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The Anthology of the Loud House

Chapter Text


She calls it a late evening matinee. Those words escape from her lips like an encaged demon. Its ruffled feathers shedding its residue onto the surface. Its voice hawking like someone is congested in its throat. That is the description I think of whenever she uses those words for preparation of our act. An act where we shed the clothing of two siblings. Red strings are born and entwined between our callous fingers. Lucy is not who she is whenever we engage in our act.

She compares herself to the omnipotent. A name above all names. When I am with her, she shall be exalted. She is considered worthy over anything else. Our parents, our sisters, our friends, and me.

Once, she had called an insolent creature. So insignificant that a cockroach has higher value than I. I took the blow. I encaged it, concealed it in a jar, and stored it in the depths of my soul. I never respond with hatred. I never provoke my anger. For her anger is greater than the Lord himself. I am just a child of a lesser God.

A contradiction, I know. A contradiction, I know. A contradiction, I know. A broken record I am becoming. Accustomed to the abuse that Lucy gives me. Have you ever read the book Chicken Noodle Soup for the Soul? It is an anthology of people who faced unforeseen circumstances. However, against all odds, they pull through.

Lucy caught me reading the book one evening when I was lying in bed. She appeared out of nowhere. Her eyes widened like a broken relic, displaying any power that was concealed. Her face reddened like the blood I tasted after she hit me with the book. She didn't stop. She beat me repeatedly until the font of the title was indented onto my forehead.

Throughout the time I was covering myself, she was laughing. She burrowed and furrowed in laughter. Each hit was a different aura, a different vibe, each had a reason. In her eyes, she was punishing me for something she hates the most. And that was when a person builds themselves.

No one is above Lucy. Her foundation is built on sand. But she will be damned if you even try to add one particle board under yours.

After she finished hitting me; and the confetti of papers scattered throughout the room; and once her panting cease, she leaned over me with her familiar smile. She swayed her hair to expose her catlike eyes. She purred. She was tickled to see my suffering. She placed a kiss on my forehead. She whispered in my ear good night before taking a tug with her teeth. She cascaded to the door before closing it.

What was left in the aftermath was my destroyed book, my bruised body, my bruised ego, and a soiled pair of boxers.

My mother asked me how I was inflicted with those bruises. Lucy smiled when I have explained that I was too caught up in listening to SMOOCH.

That alone caused me to be grounded for a month and I have to go to counseling.

So, my lie to protect her caused me disdain for some time.

You ask yourself, why didn't I go tell someone.

The door opens. I can't talk right now. The demon has entered the room.

She gently closes the door behind her. She tries her best to not disturb any of our family downstairs. Bedtime is drawing near and my family is downstairs playing a game.

Per routine, she gave them an excuse.

She is not feeling well. Being out in the cold too long gave her symptoms of the flu. She is going upstairs. She also reminds them that she does not need any help for her big brother is going to take care of it.

I swallow nothing.

No, I am lying. Longsuffering has another mean with me and her. She locks the door and turns out one of the lights.

The demon is approaching.

"Charmed, big brother for waiting for me this fine evening," she purrs.

I sit on my bed, riveting in frustration. Riveting in knowing what is about to come.

"What's the face, big brother," she asks with a gentle voice. She walks closer to me.

I lean backward toward to wall. I know that I have nowhere to go. I am cornered, but any borrowed time is time. Time is regardless. Time is time. Time is slipping and the inevitable is coming.

"I love it when you expose your fear to me," she purrs. She nudges on the bed, aiming in my direction. "It speaks wonders on how you look at me." She licks her lips.

I don't say a word.

"What's the matter," she asks me again. We are face to face with each other. Her hair smells of a bubblegum shampoo. A huge contrast to her truer self.

Her palm touches my face.

"Oh my God," she exclaims with insincerity. She strokes my cheek with a caress. "You are scared."

"No," I lie to her.

"Words are a chasm to nowhere. Just a maze after maze of pyramids and traps. But hell, what do I know? Then yet again, you are in my world." She tells me. She blows into my ear.

I am shaking.

"Continue to fear me for I am your God," she says. She begins biting on my ear. "I am the Lord of host." She tugs at my earlobe. The moistness of her tongue hits me. I began to pant a little.

"In the beginning," she tells me. "I bestow upon Lincoln the gift he is about to receive." I can smell her as she wraps herself around me. She inhales loudly, assuring me who is in charge.

"Lucy," I tell her.

She grabs my throat with a firm grip. "Keep saying my name, but with a whisper." She took another bite of my ear. Meanwhile, she grabs her hand and reaches into my shirt. She begins playing with my nipple.

I moan.

"I know you are perky here, Lincoln," she says. "I know your spots."

She rubs it and kneads it like it is bread. I am moaning but keeping my composure. My family is only feet away and don't know that trouble is upstairs clawing her other hand around my stomach.

"I use you because you are an insolent weak thing," she tells me, "Even cockroaches and mice have a better stead than you."

"Yes, ma'am," I tell her.

She moves her mouth to my chest where she licks through my shirt. Instantly, I become hard. I feel like an asshole. An incestous bastard. Just nothing.

She looks around my swollen member and smiles. She rubs it gently against my pants.

"You love when I fondle your dick, don't you," she tells me.

I say nothing until she pinches my phallus, which causes me to yelp.

"You can play quiet but I know your notes, big brother," she says.

She continues stroking my dick. My precum is leaking through my pants. She gathers any materials and puts in my mouth.

"Love your salty taste," she questions me.

When I don't answer, she tugs hard. "Answer my question," she demands.

"Yes," I say. I don't know what is true or not. She continues stroking my pants until I know I am beginning to erupt.

Here I am, lying in the bedroom and allowing my sister to do these things to me.

"Tell me that I am your God," she demands.

"You are my God," I sadly admit.

"Who is the queen of queens," she says while stroking faster.

"You are," I say.

"Let it out in your pants, you pervert," she says. And she leans closer. "You better cream your pants or I am going to cream you. Understand?"

I shake my head.

"Let out your sloppy squid," she said excitedly before she gives the final push of my orgasm.

She screams while I yell out.

"I am cumming."

I unload my clip into my pants, as directed. I come repeatedly until it subsides. I am red in the face. She smiles.

"You are pathetic," she says. "Allowing your little sister to do something like that."

I say nothing. However, there is void within me. As much I am embarrassed. This sinking feeling. This sinking feeling.

She wipes her hands on my bed. She stands before with the same look from before. She takes off part of her dress. The creamy complexion of her shoulders goes well in the moonlight.

"Is this what you want," she questions me. "Do you want to get a taste of this forbidden fruit."

I say nothing.

"Oh, c'mon, big brother," she tells me. "You are not telling me that you are not dying to pop this tight pussy. You don't want to play with this kitten. She is drooling for you." She giggles.

I still say nothing.

"Your son is being honest," she tells me.

She spreads her legs, exposing her panties. They are black. Similar to how I am feeling on the inside. Her musk is enticing. Enchanting and scream my name to attack.

She thrusts while using her hand as if she is jerking off.

"Aww, poor Lincoln. Don't you want to pop one off in your sister," she teases me.

I am frozen. She continues.

"In my goody-bag. In my cock-dock. In my yum-yum. In my coin purse. In my bun. In my taco," she continues teasing me. "Don't you see my panties covered in my fluid? I know you want this."

"No, No."

"Keep lying to yourself, Lincoln. Be in denial."

"No, no."

"Fuck me, Lincoln," she tells me while thrusting on the bed.

What are you waiting for, you idiot? She is literally giving you an open invitation. Take this kitty, bitch.

"What are waiting for, Lincoln. Isn't this what you want?"

That familiar voice. From beside the bed, I see Lori standing. She folds her arms. She has a suspicious look.

"What's the matter, Lincoln," she asks me. "Afraid to conquer your sister?"

By that time, Lucy begins rubbing herself with her soft fingers. I watch as she glides her fingers through her cavern. Her fingers are hungry for her pussy. Her eyes display an insatiable appetite.

She moans. She continues to play with herself while Lori laughs and watch. By this time, she crawls into bed.

"Poor, Lucy," she says. "Lincoln isn't doing his job. Care if I help?"

She shakes her head. She comes from behind Lucy and begins rubbing her nipples with both of her hands. Lucy clenches her teeth and tucks her lip as she caught in the pleasure of her sister's touch.

"Does it feel good when I flick your tits," questions Lori to Lucy.

"Mmm, mmm," Lucy exclaims.

Lori wraps her lips around Lucy. With her teeth, she pulls Lucy's tongue into hers. She slides her mouth up and down Lucy's tongue before biting it again to return it to her mouth.

I stand in wonder as I watch my sisters performing this sinful act. Lori puts her hands in Lucy's skirt. Lucy moans deeper as she uses her one hand to play with her pussy. Her other hand is on Lucy's breast. She continues to tug her areolas. She is wincing, only exciting Lori.

"More," Lucy yearns. "I want more of your touch, Lori. I want your tender touch. Fuck me, big sis."

"Con gusto, little sis," she says when she bites in her ear.

On contact, Lucy begins shivering through an orgasm. She tugs on to Lori until her orgasms subside. I stand in wonder. Confused, but allured.

Lori takes off Lucy's panties, exposing her flood gates. She spreads it wide enough to see her pussy throbbing in excitement.

"I have done the prep work for you," Lori tells me. "Go for it, little bro."

"Do it," Lucy tells me. "Fuck your God and tell me who is the queen of queens."

"You heard her," says Lori. "Fuck your God. She commands you."

Want do you want? An engraved invitation? Fuck her, dude. She is hot to trot.

As much I see her yearning for me, as much I see them calling me.

Quit being a fucking pussy, you fag. The hell is wrong with you.

"No, no," I say.

Fuck your little sister, Lincoln.

"Your true self is being honest, Lincoln," says Lori as she leans over to me. She grips my dick.

Do it, Lincoln.

"Do it, Lincoln," says Lori.

"Do it, big brother," says Lucy.

Do it.

Do it.

Do it.

Do it.

Do it.

Do it.

"No," I scream.

When I come to, I am not in my bedroom. Lucy and Lori are not here. I just remember. I am still in the public restroom at the park.

My shame, regret, and frustration are all over the toilet seat.

I pray to my God for forgiveness before exiting the restroom.

The urges are getting stronger. I should have been home, but instead, I have found myself in the restroom extinguishing my thoughts over Lucy while included Lori.

You are more of a basket case than I have thought. What is next? The inclusion of sex with a male?

"Fuck you," I say.

The more you play yourself, the more I like you, Lincoln. You are a card to play. If I can gamble you, I will earn millions.

"Fuck off."

Billions?

"Why don't you leave me the hell alone?"

How can I? When I am you. All of these fantasies are you. I mean you were getting off to the thought of Lucy abusing you.

"Fuck you."

Then, she belittles you. She insults you. You like the fact of being dominated. Hell, I am you and you constantly battle with your mind.

"Leave me alone."

Lesbians of your sisters. Once again, you are a card.

"I don't have to take this."

Don't have much of a choice. I mean you have to face Lori tonight. Kind yummy, if you ask me. What kind of plans has she in store for you?

Lincoln?

Lincoln?

He is not responding. Pity to be honest. He knows that I am apart of him and still wants to play that game. That is fine because of the best, or worst, has yet to come. Accept it. You can't hide what's inside.

I don't want to listen anymore. I wash my hands. Take it how you want to.

You can't hide what's inside.

You can't hide what's inside.

You can't hide what's inside.

You can't hide what's inside.

Chapter Text

Lincoln was in the basement of his home when his father asked him to find the box of his old swimming wear. Lincoln knew that his parents' anniversary was steadily approaching. It was the only time of year when his father would don his old vintage shorts of the 90's. It was much of the chagrin of his mother. In her eyes, the former days of Tommy Hilfiger, Calvin Klein, 98 Degrees, and the Backstreet Boys were passed away. "Leave those days behind like the swimwear, I thought, I have discarded." His mother would protest. "No way, Mama Bear." His father usually interjected. "These swimwear are the final proof that the 90's did exist and our budding young lives begin." Of course, it always end up in an argument for about twenty to thirty minutes before concluding in the bedroom where they "make up." Lincoln just sighed and smiled that throughout that time, their marriage was sustainable.

From time to time, he pictured himself with Ronnie Anne. Of course, the young naive Lincoln would gag at the thought of being with such a bully. He would rather lick the bathroom floor before kissing such a vile creature. However, he thought about. Was he able to find odd romances like Ronnie Anne? Could he find the odd compatability like his parents?

He shrugged it off and resumed looking for the lost box of his father's former days.

He searched through box after box, but he couldn't find anything. He came across photographs of when they were children; relicts of his Pop-Pop's military gear, and journals of his mother's work she has yet to release. Nothing but dreams and memories hidden in the dusty confinements of the basement.

Feeling a little tired, Lincoln took a break. Fortunately, he had a bottle of water to keep him hydrated. He knew that searching for his father's "treasure" was going to be hard work. Being the only son of a house for women, he had more responsibilities than his counterparts. At times, he debated on his reason of his sole responsibility of those positions. Lori would gripped, "Because you are the man of the house, Linc. Therefore, it is not a ladies' job." Even the tomboys of the family like Lana and Lynn would defend their womanhood. "Not a position for us gals."

And every time, he mumbled under his breath. "You all are fighting for the feminist cause. Aren't you all." He just concluded that it was a burden that he has to bare. Those were his sisters and he would not trade them for anything in the world.

As he wrapped his lips around the water bottle, a flash from the window hit his eye. Becoming blinded, he dropped the bottled.

"Nuts," he protested. "Now, I have to clean up this mess. Oh, man. What a day!" He was being honest. This was not how he had planned his day. Originally, he was supposed to hang out with his best friend, Clyde. However, Clyde was spending the evening with his parents. They wanted quality time with him, according to Clyde. He had getting in contact with the Spokes brothers, but they had plans as well. Leaving any last resorts for Ronnie Anne, she simply said. "No way, loser!"

Because of his canceled plans, his father used him as an advantage to take care of his duties.

Before he went to search for a mop, he went to get his now emptied water bottle. As he kneeled to get it, he noticed another box under his father's desk.

Kind of curious, he reached for it.

"This better be the box of his lame swimming wear," he said to himself.

On top of the box, Lincoln saw the word, "private" in black permanent marker. "How convenient," he laughed to himself.

He pulled the box from under his father's desk. He had hoped that it was his swimming wear. When he opened it, he did not discover any swimming shorts. However, he did discover something else.

Inside of the hidden box were a pile of old VHS tapes. "Such an astounding era," he said to himself. All of them were neatly stacked. All were labeled in numeric order.

He pulled the first tape that was labeled, 1. He studied the tape, wondering what could be in the video. Many things ran through his young mind. Wedding tapes, reruns of cartoon classics, home videos, porno…. He stopped at that. He raised his eyebrow and laughed it off.

"Like my dad would keep pornography here. I mean, he is such a pegged leg. Such straight lace," he said to himself.

"Honey, did you find my shorts," said his father from afar.

Lincoln returned to reality. "No, I haven't," he responded.

"That is fine," said his father. "It would probably be in the attic."

Lincoln became calm, relaxed that he didn't have to look any further in the basement.

"Can you, however, check in the attic for me anyway," asked his father pleadingly.

He scoffs, but low enough to not let his father know of his annoyance. "Yes, dad," he said.

After another couple of wasted hours, he was unable to find his father's swimming shorts. It was late in the evening when he had returned to his bedroom. In honesty, he was tired. Also, he wanted to know what was inside of the tape.

Before going to the attic, he placed the tape in his drawer without his parents or any of his nosy sisters finding out. Also, he remembered that he had an old VHS player under his bed.

He decided when everyone went to bed, he was going to see what was inside of the tape.

Once he installed the VHS player to his television, he was ready for the tape.

He looked once again at the label of the tape with the title of simply 1.

Just to be sure that he wouldn't be interrupted, he locked the door. To insure that the mysterious tape might contain pornography, he made sure that the volume on his television was low. His heart began to beat and his hands were shaken of the unknown. He scanned the room, once again, to insure that there won't be any disturbance.

It was just himself confinement in the darkness of his room. The bluish hue of the television set is the only evidence of a presence, or lack thereof, in the room. He took a breath before releasing it.

"Well, here goes nothing," he said to himself before inserting the tape inside of the VHS player.

He waited a few moments as the tape was getting programmed. After the play button was presented, the bluish screen changed to darkness. After a few moments, a picture appeared.

It was room, but no one is there. It appeared to be a hotel room. He assumed it was because it had the standard queen-sized bed, nightstands on both ends of the bed, and a lamp above the bed. For the first few minutes, there was not any action at all.

Lincoln continued to watch despite no action. Even if he wanted to fast forward, he did not have a remote.

Then, he saw movement coming from being the camera.

"Ok, come in my dear," said the unknown voice. The voice sound feminine. Like an older woman, he thought.

Lincoln watched as he saw a person enter the room. It looked like a young teenaged boy. He was quiet and looked very fragile. He was wearing a plain white shirt and blue jeans. He had blonde hair.

"Ok, tell me your name," said the unknown voice.

"I...I don't have a name," said the boy.

"Oh, come on," said the unknown voice. "You must have something? I mean, everybody has a name."

"You can call me whatever you want," replied the boy.

"Ok, then," said the unknown voice. "So, can you face the camera for me?"

The boy complied and faced the camera. Lincoln was taken aback on how intent the young boy was. It was like he was peering into his soul. It was such a look that something was telling him that this was something he should not have to look at.

"Are you looking at the camera," asked the unknown voice.

"Con gusto," replied the boy.

"Alright then," said the woman. "Can you tell the camera on what why you are here today?"

Showing no change of expression, he sighed. "I am here because I am being paid to have sex."

"Oh, come on," said the voice. "You can do better than that."

"Sorry," said the boy. "I am being paid to have sex with an older woman that picked me up on the street." He sounded very specific. "And not just any older woman. A married older woman."

"That's more like it," said the voice.

"Do me a favor and turn the camera towards my direction, will you," said the voice.

As directed, the boy turned the camera and soon as that happen, Lincoln bolted to the bed in shock of what happened.

"That's my boy. Turn the camera towards me," said the woman.

Lincoln stared in surprise and shock when seeing the woman. He had recognized this woman. The blonde haired woman who would wake him up in the morning; make the family breakfast; greet him with kisses; and showing love to his father.

Behind the camera was his own mother, Rita Loud.

"Hello, television land," replied his mother. His mother was in transition of shedding her clothing. In front of Lincoln was not a mother, but a woman in heat. She exchanged her maternal role into eyes of a seducer. No, he thought, a succubus.

When she came to, she was wearing nothing but her silk purple panties. Her firm breasts exposed to the world along with her throbbing nipples. Her eyes didn't look at the camera, but at the boy himself.

"Quite a surprise," she laughed. "This is the kind of video I wouldn't dare show my husband." She laughed again. She began swaying her hips seductively. When she faced the camera, she began licking her lips and bucking her hips.

By this time, Lincoln's mouth was covered. What was worst was that his eyes were still focusing on his mother. Especially where her panties were located.

"Hey, buster," she responded. "Focus the camera on my face."

"Yes, ma'am," said the boy.

"I can tell you are getting comfortable with me," she jolted while continuing to move her body. "Earlier, I could tell you were scared." She chuckled. "Let me ask you something. Has your cherry been popped?"

"No, ma'am," the boy responded.

"Mmm, mmm," she said. "Have you ever rub one off anytime?"

"No, ma'am," said the boy.

"Aren't you of age to be exploring things with your boy," asked Lincoln's mother.

"I grew up in a religious family," the boy admitted. "Where it is forbidden to talk about sex or masturbation or any of that kind of stuff."

"Oh, pity," she pouted. "So, a stud like you is a young nubile virgin. Aren't you."

"Yes," he admitted.

"Hey," she interrupted. "Keep the camera on me. I need something to keep me with my documentation."

"Documentation," asked the boy.

"Documentation," asked Lincoln.

"I am a writer who searches for boys like you to keep my work, exotic," she responded. By that time, she began shedding her final article of clothing before tossing it at the camera. Lincoln watched his mother exposing her small bushel of blonde.

Beautiful, Lincoln thought.

"If you comply with me, boy," she said. "Then I will make sure you will be paid very well." She laughed seductively. "Understood?"

From the handling of the camera, the boy shook his head in agreement.

"Good, now focus the camera back to the bed," commanded Lincoln's mother.

The boy did what he was told. Lincoln watched in shock as he was watching his mother in her attempt to engage in sex with a complete stranger.

She climbed on top of the bed. She spread her legs far enough so Lincoln could see her ass and her pussy. She thrust a couple of times. He could tell that he was trying to excite the young boy.

"Like how I am popping it," asked his mother.

The boy was quiet. The shaking of the camera was saying otherwise. Lincoln was still in shock. He should stop, but he couldn't. His eyes were focused on his mother's womanhood.

My mom was pretty, he thought. Unknown to himself, the erection in his pajamas could concur on what he was thinking.

"Before we can get physical," she moaned. "I need to get myself off first."

She turned her head and motioned the boy to reach over to something besides the nightstand. The boy gave her a red vibrator before returning to the camera.

"Try your hardest to not blow your load while I am doing this," she said. "For I want to be the one to savor your precious milk." She chuckled as she began turning the vibrator.

Lincoln was witnessing his mother entering the vibrator into her cavern.

She rubbed carefully so she can have the camera display everything. She swayed upward and backward; using her freehand to rub her ass while using the vibrator to play with her pussy.

"You are liking this. Aren't you," asked Lincoln's mother.

The boy was emitting moans. Even Lincoln couldn't keep his eyes off of his mother.

"Your eyes tell all, dear," she said. "You want a taste of this ripped pussy?"

"I don't know," said the boy.

"I don't know," said Lincoln.

She continued drilling into her pussy when fluids began leaking from her pussy. Lincoln saw the fluids dripping down her leg.

Lincoln noticed that his pajamas were tightening up as well. This, too, was a new experience for himself.

"This is something that a mother shouldn't do," she moaned. "I have seven kids to handle." She started thrusting her fingers deeper into her ass. "Oh my God, I really want your dick in my ass so fucking bad. I need something sturdy than my own husband. His is being much flaccid than the Nikkei Stock Exchange."

Lincoln was started to reach for his pants until he heard a knock at the door.

"Honey, honey," said the familiar voice. "Why is the door locked?"

Quickly, he stopped the tape and turned off the television. The door continued knocking until he could discard any evidence. Once everything was cleared, Lincoln opened the door.

"Hey, mom," said Lincoln.

"Hello, dear," said his mother. "I heard some movement from your room and I was growing concern. Is everything alright?"

Lincoln shook his head, but he couldn't look at his mother in his eye. Every chance he took a glance, he could only picture what he had witnessed through the video.

"Are you sure," questioned his mother.

"I am," said Lincoln. "I was looking for one of my mangas to read, but couldn't find it. So, I was going under my bed. And then I fell."

"That doesn't explain why your door was locked," said his mother.

"Being absent-minded," replied Lincoln. "Long day and the only one looking for dad's swimwear."

She lightly chuckled. "I am sorry, dear," she said. "We were doing that because we wanted you to know responsibility."

Lincoln's face was flushed in both embarrassment and frustration.

"I know it is not fair, but what you are doing is greatly appreciated," she said.

Lincoln still couldn't look her. The entire time, his eyes were on the floor.

"I understand," he responded faintly.

"Okay, now get some rest," she said. "You have school in the morning."

He shook his head. She planted a kiss on his forehead. When she did, he felt a bolt within him. It was quite shocking. It was a new sensation he had never felt before. He began trembling, but did his hardest not to alert his mom.

She rubbed his head and closed the door behind him. When she left, he sat on his bed. Many things were on his mind. The video, his mother, and this strange liquid coming from his pajamas. Knowing he had too much for one day, he went to his bed and tried to get some sleep.

Before closing his eyes, a final thought was on his mind. I must know what mom was doing. I will have to look more into it. For my sake and for dad's.

That was at least he trying to convince himself on what he was going to do.

Chapter Text

Seeing the rain cascade from the sky was the last thing Lincoln thought that was going to occur on his Saturday. Last time, he edged from the couch, staring at the television on the weather for the following day. According to the weatherman, the forecast for the following was going to be a zero chance of rain. Shearing with excitement, Lincoln arranged plans on how he was going to spend his Saturday.

It has been a few weeks since Lincoln had the opportunity to have a weekend off. For the last few weekends, they were being spent preparing for the upcoming standardized test. Although he had a great ability to study and to excel well in his schoolwork, the principal recommended to his parents that it was in his best interest if Lincoln were involved in the tutoring. Lincoln knew the truth. Of course, his parents wouldn't understand. He often laughed and chagrin the mindset of an adult after surpassing childhood. Lincoln knew that the only reason for the principal's recommendation so that the school scores can progress. Let's face it, he, Clyde, and Ronnie Anne are one of the few reasons why their school performance score was on the rise. Although the three of them contrasted in personality, gender, and race, they pulled through at the work ethic.

After those few exhausting weeks, the trio decided that they were going to surface their return profound freedom through relaxing at the park, go swimming, and play at the arcade. At least, that was the plan.

"Aww, crud," cried Lincoln as he sat by the window in the living room. He watched the rain brushed against the window like he was at a car wash. There was no visibility. He knew that there weren't any plans of going out anytime soon. What was worst was that the storm had disconnected the phone lines, giving him the inability to call anyone or go on the internet. He was now caught in the lackluster of a child lost in the void. He believed that was era was known as being stuck in the 90's.

"Relax, Linc," said his sister Leni. She was sitting on the couch painting her toenails. "We could be cats and dogs right now."

"Umm, I don't think that makes sense," said Lincoln in an odd tone.

Lincoln had to reminder himself that Leni was not the brightest crayon in the bunch. It was a miracle that she had made it to her sophomore year of high school. He had often asked her about what she did in school? Her response was always the same. "School? Are you mad, Linc? We are at home." He rested his case on the lovable oaf he called his sister. Where she lack in intelligent, she gained in her beauty and her subtlety.

"Oh, my God," cried Lincoln while he pressed his head against the window. "This has been one heck of a month. All of my weekends have been spent at school, where I don't want to go at the five days I am required. Now, my weekend is shot because of this darn rain." He pouted. "And this weekend was going to be sweet, too."

Leni watched how Lincoln was frustrated about the rain. She put her finger to her lip. "Well, at least you have me, little brother," she answered.

"I don't think I have much of a choice," replied Lincoln.

Lincoln and Leni were the only two at home. Rita, their mother, decided to take Lily, Lisa, Lola, Lana, and Lucy to her mother's home. Their father, Lynn, went out of town on business. Luan was taking a comedy class at the learning annex. Lori was spending the day with her boyfriend, Bobby (Lincoln wished he would have gotten a ride to go see Ronnie Anne). Luna was at rock practice for an upcoming show. Lynn was at roller derby practice.

Leni was supposed to have a date, but it did not go so well. She was scratching her head. "I still don't get what he had meant. 'If you see lost, go get him for me?' Weird."

"So, we don't have internet. We don't have phone," said Lincoln as he was standing up to face Leni. "What's a kid supposed to do on a rainy day?"

"Sorts of things," said Leni after painting her last toe. "We can play board games."

"Yawn."

"Clean up the house."

"Really? Cleaning for fun?"

"Play hide and go seek?"

"No way, Leni. Remember last time when we played that game."

"Oh, yeah. That's right. I forgot that I was 'it.'"

Lincoln sort of chuckled about that. "Any other bright ideas?"

Leni scanned around and looked to find something. "If you want, we can watch a movie."

Lincoln didn't have any other plans. Of course, he could go upstairs and read his comics, but he had read every single volume he had collected. Without internet for resource, he really did not have much choice. Plus, it was not every day that he could spend time with his sister.

"Okay, why not? I am game for it."

"Great," exclaimed Leni. "Let's go see what I have that we can watch."

Without warning, she grabbed Lincoln by the hand and took her to her bedroom. She turned on the light before descending to the closet. It was not often to be in the room of his oldest sisters. It was like a different environment, he had thought. The scent of perfume, cosmetics, and estrogens lurked and loomed in his nose. There were days he thought he was at a beauty parlor than the bedroom of his sisters.

He sat at the foot of Leni's bed while she was sorting through her closet.

"Let's see. Let's see," she said to herself. "It should be around here somewhere."

"What are you looking for," asked Lincoln.

"Something special for us to watch," said Leni.

"It doesn't have to be special," said Lincoln. "Any film is fine with me. We can watch The Notebook, The Devil Wears Prada, or heck, Barney for all that it's worth."

"No, no, Lincoln," cried Leni. "Those movies are too elementary." She continued sorting through her box. "Also, I have seen Barney too many times. Still can't get the "I Like To" song out of my head."

Lincoln giggled, but covered his hands so she wouldn't notice. It was rare when it was just the two of them. He knew her of naivete and ignorance, but he has always tolerated it. He could think of a handful of occasions in which they have many journeys, but in the end, they were worth it. One of the memorable ones was when she had almost killed his pet spider. Despite her fear of spiders, she sacrificed her inhibitions to spare her brother from facing trouble. Another example was when they both join forces to protect each other from Lisa's wrath during their snow day.

From time to time on their way to school, both Leni and Lincoln giggled about that day. So much so, they would go back to the vent where they were hiding. There was nothing special about the vents, but it was a special spot to the pair. It was the first time in which they bonded as brother and sister.

"You need a hand, sis," asked Lincoln as he was headed into her direction.

"I am okay," she said. "Almost got it." She was straining while gaining grip.

Absentmindedly, Lincoln wrapped his arms around her torso to help Leni with her grip. After a moment, she jerked the item from the chest. However, both were taken aback and fell on the floor. Leni landed on top of Lincoln.

"Holy moly," cried Leni. She turned her head to Lincoln. "Are you okay?"

"Had better days, Clyde," replied Lincoln. He was in a dazed. Then suddenly, he felt something soft and plush around his hand. "These marshmallows are very soft, Clyde. Where do you get these from?"

Leni blushed. "Lincoln, not to be mean. But you are grabbing my boobs."

Lincoln returned to reality. His eyes were widened and his mouth was agape. "Oh, God. Oh, I am sorry, Leni. I am so, so, so, so sorry"

She blushed before getting off of him. "It's fine, silly. Accidents happen." She giggled before catching her eye on the item. "Alas, the video is here."

Lincoln was lying there. He was still in a daze, especially after getting contact with Leni's breast. "What is that video?"

"The Breakfast Club," she said. "A classic."

"Never heard of it," said Lincoln.

"It's a classic," cried Leni. "It's a film based in the 1980's. A group of kids spending their Saturday in detention."

"Tell me about," replied Lincoln.

"Despite having their detention, they managed to enjoy their Saturday," said Leni. She returned her eyes to Lincoln. "Since our Saturday is a bust. At least we can spend our Saturday about a group of kids spending their Saturday in detention."

Lincoln was surprised. It was not every day for Leni to display any sense of intellect. "I'd like that, Leni."

"Great," she cried. "Take the movie downstairs and turn it on. I go get popcorn."

"Awesome," said Lincoln. Before he departed, Leni stopped him.

"What would be awesome if we were to do it like we were in the old days," said Leni while giggling.

"You don't mean," said Lincoln.

"Sitting in our t-shirts and underwear while watching this," said Leni.

Lincoln was having some reservations. It was different back when they were younger. However, the pair is teenagers. Development of their bodies was in different ways.

"C'mon, it will be fun," said Leni. She put her hands to her mouth, giving him a sly look. "What's the matter? Don't want me to see you in your tighty whiteys?"

Lincoln blushed. "No!" He protested. "It is nothing like that!"

"Are you sure," she said teasingly.

"No," he replied.

"Alright, then. Then show me that you have no fear," said Leni.

Lincoln was taken aback. He was, in a way, surprised. It was kind of exciting.

"Are you challenging me, Leni," asked Lincoln, while returning Leni a sly look.

"Do. You. Have. The. Guts," she asked Lincoln.

"Bring it," said Lincoln.

Lincoln left the room and headed into his room. He went to his dresser and pulled out an old orange t-shirt that he wore back when he was in the first grade. He was impressed that it still fitted. He gulped before he took off his pants. He placed them aside on his bed and headed downstairs.

The rain continued pouring down, getting heavier. As he went into his kitchen, he had overheard the weatherman that the forecast predicted a flash flood watch for the county. Concerned about his family, there was nothing he could do. Until the internet and phone connections returned, he was unable to contact the others. The only thing he could do was pray for the best. He let out a quiet prayer before grabbing the bowl of popcorn. He went into the living room and turned on the DVD player to put in the movie.

He went to the couch and waited for his sister to return. As the movie was on the menu, his sister descended the stairs.

When he turned, his mouth became agape. He couldn't believe what he saw. She wearing a green t-shirt, but it was not low enough to cover her thighs. Even from where he was sitting, he could see her green panties. His breath became shallow. He quickly tilted his head back to the screen.

She swayed her hips to the living room where she met Lincoln. She studied Lincoln. She, too, was surprised on his morning outfit.

"So you did have the guts," asked Leni.

Blushing, he responded. "Yeah, I told you."

"Good," she said before sitting next to Lincoln on the couch.

She pulled the remote from the table and pressed the play button. While the movie was playing, she grabbed a blanket next to the couch.

"I wanted us to get comfy while watching the movie," said Leni. "I didn't want us to get too cold."

"Sweet," responded Lincoln. Although there was doubt in his tone.

I know that this is my sister. I am fully aware of that. But, man, when did she become a woman without my paying attention?

The weather was still brewing a horrid storm while the lone siblings were watching The Breakfast Club. Lincoln, at first, was in shock of how much things changed over the past thirty years. He watched how a group of teenagers managed to enjoy and to take advantage of their Saturday.

"This movie is great," cried Lincoln.

"Told you," replied Leni while taking herself a handful of popcorn.

"Molly Ringwald is funny," said Lincoln. "I did not even know that Charlie Sheen had a brother in this movie."

"Emilio Estevez," replied Leni. "Keep it between you and me, but I had a crush on him."

"Too much information," replied Lincoln.

"Aww, come on," said Leni teasingly while nudging her feet on his leg. That alone send shock in his spine. "You can't say that you found Allison and Claire cute?"

"Claire was cute," said Lincoln admittedly. "But I had honestly found Allison to be my cup of tea."

Leni giggled. "How so, may I ask?"

"As she admittedly said. She was the basket case."

"You find basket case type girls to be cute."

"Not literally, but they are interesting."

"Explain?"

He cleared his throat. "Allison played her role very well. She was off, she was not the brightest. Then yet again, she wanted to be known. So she did crazy stuff in order to get attention."

"Is that what you see in girls?"

He blushed. "Never mind, never mind."

"What about Claire?"

"What about her?"

"What kind of quality you see in her. If you were to date her."

"I don't know. It's kind of hard."

"Tell me. I want to know."

"Never mind, Leni. This is getting kind of awkward."

She grabbed the remote and put the movie on pause. She sat up properly on the couch and faced Lincoln. "You have to choose one of the Breakfast Club girls."

Lincoln raised his eyebrows. "I have to choose one?"

"Which one I should pretend to be?"

"Are you serious?"

She frowned. "Can't we have any fun with this?"

He sighed. "Ok. I want to pick Allison."

"Ok, Allison it is," she smiled. "Of course, you would pick her."

"Ha!"

She straightened herself out. "I have a crush on you, little brother!"

"Uh?"

She removed the blanket from the couch, exposing themselves. Lincoln watched the sweat drip from her neck. He saw moisture coming from her shirt. Her legs were damp as well. Leni noticed it.

"Like what you see?"

He was backing up. "Is this a joke."

She giggled. "Nope! Not a joke, little brother." She nudged closer to him. "In fact, I have been having these feelings for you the entire time."

Lincoln's hands began to tremble. He was leaning himself back from her, trying his hardest to go away from her.

"Where are you going," she purred.

Without warning, she grabbed his leg and pulled him to her direction. In no time, he was lying under her. He stood in shock as he was inches from his sister. Her breath loomed over him as she was hovering him. She emitted a smile, better yet a smirk that he had never seen before.

"Is this a game," asked Lincoln.

She caressed his cheek. "If this was a game, why did I set up what I did to this?"

He swallowed nothing.

"Why would I pick such a sacred movie if it did not mean something."

"Leni?"

"I only show this movie to the guys I like."

"Like?"

She giggled before blowing into his ear. "Like," she whispered.

"Leni, I think you are a good sister. I think the too much popcorn has gotten into your…," Lincoln was interrupted when Leni caught his lips. Lincoln laid in shock as his tongue was entangled with her tongue. She continued kissing him until a trail of saliva bridged the pair.

"A woman's kiss," she purred. "Unlike a girl's kiss like Ronnie Anne."

Lincoln was silent. He was flushed.

Leni looked down as she noticed that Lincoln's boxers were protruding.

"Pitching a tent," she purred.

Lincoln flushed when Leni rubbed at the phallus before the shaft. "Relax, Lincoln. I know what I am doing. Just let yourself get lost. Remember, I am Allison, your dream girl."

She continued rubbing before his penis was leaking fluids. He gripped the couch as he became entrapped in this forbidden, incestuous affair.

"Leni," he cried.

"Remember, I am Allison," cried Leni.

She continued stroking through his boxers. He tried to reach her, but she kissed him again.

"Want to go to heaven with me," asked Leni.

"Leni, I am beginning to feel funny," cried Lincoln.

She continued to rub. She laughed the entire time. Lincoln was feeling sensations until he was not sure how he was feeling.

"You are almost there," she cried. "Al. Most. There."

"Leni, I don't know," cried Lincoln. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God."

Leni then stopped her hands. She quickly removed it.

"How did you like my acting," she asked.

"Uh?"

"How did you like my Allison impression?"

Lincoln was breathless and confused.

"You know, the role of being a compulsive liar?"

Lincoln sighed. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah. I am very surprised."

She smiled. "Am I a good actress of what?"

"Yeah, great!"

Leni grabbed the remote and played the pause button. She grabbed the blankets and covered them both. They returned to watching the movie. While Leni was laughing, Lincoln was still lost in limbo. He was also lost at the new sensation he was experiencing.

Lincoln got off of the couch.

"Where are you going, Linc," asked Leni.

"I don't know," replied Lincoln. "I don't know."

As he was leaving, Leni came from behind and grabbed Lincoln around his torso. She pressed her head against his back.

"Sorry, Linc," she said.

"I am confused," said Lincoln.

"I know. Sorry," replied Leni.

Lincoln was panting. He felt odd, confused, scared, and unsatisfied.

"Do you care if I show you what I did again," asked Leni. "But this time only me and not as Allison?"

He shook his head in agreement.

Leni turned off the television. She took Lincoln by the hand and they went inside of her bedroom.

Although the storm continued to ravish the city, but it was not the only thing that was brewing in the forecast.

Chapter Text

It was a calm and breezy spring evening. The evening sun bid the sky farewell of the day before disappearing below the horizon. As soon as the sun set, the moon made its' grand entrance. For its opening act, the stars. Many constellations as far as the eye can see made its display in Royal Woods. According to the meteorologist, this star-studded event was something that should not be missed.

It was not surprising to see the neighborhood made its event into a block party. Many of the residents set up camp in front of their homes to see the stars in action. There has been a rumor that there is slight chance that a comet might make an appearance. Although it was uncertain, but it could be a treat.

However, Lincoln had something else in his mind that did not include a star. In fact, this burning star was beginning to fall.

Lincoln lied in darkness as he heard the festivities going on outside. It was no surprise that the Loud family was making their entrance. He had often compared his family to a certain family from a television show. The show where a hardworking father and an overbearing mother have to go through the burden of five children. Wherever they went, hell comes along with them. Although they were more diluted than the television family, they did wreak havoc.

"Oh, my God, Lisa, what are you doing," said a voice. It has already begun.

At this point of time, that was the least of Lincoln's worries. He stretched his arms while deciding to call it a night early. Earlier today, he faced something that he had regret. Something that he does not want to discuss. Just like shooting stars and comets, he just wanted to fade away.

He heard a knock on the door.

"Lincoln," said a voice.

He ignored the knock. He kept his head buried in his pillow.

The door knocked again.

"Lincoln," said the voice, with a hint of worry.

"Go over," muffled Lincoln from his pillow.

There was a brief silence. However, his request was ignored.

"I am coming in," said the voice.

Lincoln heard his door twist and in came the person of concern.

"Lincoln, why are you doing in bed alone," asked the voice.

Lincoln turned over to see that it was one of his sisters. He fixated his eyes to see it was his tomboyish sister, Lynn.

"Why are you in bed alone," she asked again.

"Because," he answered.

"Because of what," she asked again.

"I just want to be alone," he responded before placing his head on his pillow.

She closed the door before leaning against it.

"Lincoln," she said. "Staying in here isn't going to help. Talking to a sibling or a friend can help."

"I don't think I have a friend in the world right now," replied Lincoln.

"Sure, you do," she said. "Clyde is outside hanging out with Lori; Rocky and Rusty are out there. Ronnie Anne…."

"Stop, don't bring her name up," he responded.

She stepped from the door and sat beside Lincoln's bed on the floor.

She sighed. "She didn't take up on your offer."

He rose from his pillow. Her eyes widened when seeing his black eye. "What do you think?"

"Oh, my God," she said. "She did that to you."

"Yes," he responded. "After doing what you guys told me to do. After doing what Clyde told me to do, I went and told Ronnie Anne how I felt."

"I am going to see that that shiner was your answer," said Lynn.

"Thank you very much," he responded sarcastically.

She looked at the floor. She rubbed her legs together before looking back at her brother. She went toward him and started to rub her hand on his black eye.

"Lynn, don't," he said.

"Pain, pain, fly away," she responded.

"Please don't," he said.

"Pain, pain, fly away," she responded again.

"You are sounding like a kid right now," he said.

"Pain, pain, fly away," she said again in a sing-song.

He sort of became tickled by her response.

"Pain, pain, fly away," she sang again.

"Ok, ok," he said. "Pain, pain, fly away. I got you, sis."

"Good," she answered. "You shouldn't let a shiner make you upset about being turned down."

"You don't have to worry about getting shiners," he retorted. "I mean you get plenty of attention."

She was taken aback. "Not necessarily for those reasons."

He sat up a little, leaning with his elbow. "Really? Lynn, you are the player of all players. And I don't mean that in sports. You have boys and girls left and right wanting to be your friend, teammate, or potential girlfriend."

She put her hands on her hips. "Where are you getting this information from, bro," she protested. "I don't either receive neither of those things."

"I hear it so much at school that it is crazy," he said.

"Rumors and hearsay," replied Lynn. "Must we forget that I am in high school and you are a few grades below. Of course, I am going to be talked about through you kids."

Lincoln decided to ignore the latter part of her statement. "Anyway," he said with a hint of changing the subject. "What do you need?"

"I was worried about you," she said. "Everybody is outside having a great time." She looked away for a little bit. "It didn't feel right for you not being out there."

"C'mon," he retorted. "There are plenty of things to keep you hype out there."

She took a pause. "True," she answered. "But, I wanted everybody out there. Including you." Her face flushed. "Needed some dweeb to give me star facts."

He smiled. "You are just making fun."

"No, it is true," she said. "You are my little bro. It wouldn't be the same without you."

He placed his hand on her shoulder. "Thanks, sis," he said. "However, I don't want to be out there if you-know-who is out there."

She put her finger to her lip. "I got an idea," she said. "Come with me."

"Where are we going," asked Lincoln.

"Don't worry about it," said Lynn. "Just trust me. It will be fun."

Lincoln stepped out of bed and went out of the bedroom with Lynn. He had followed her downstairs until they were headed for the backyard. Lincoln stepped outside to hear the party going from the outside. The sound of neighbors having a good time was obvious. It was too bad that he felt embarrassed to be in front of them.

However, when he looked at the stars, they looked very beautiful, he thought.

"Lincoln, come here," said Lynn.

When he came to, he saw the Lynn had a small blanket for them on the ground.

She patted the blanket so he could come and sit with her. He took a seat next to his sister.

"Look at those stars," she said. "It is like God just made a beautiful painting. It is like a constellation of a soccer game at its final minute. It is like a Super Bowl. It is like the final round of March Madness. It is just beautiful."

Lincoln laughed. "Your sports romanticisms are great."

She shrugged her shoulders. "What can I say. Poetry was never my thing."

"Makes a lot of sense," he giggled.

"Hey, bro," said Lynn.

"What's up, Lynn," replied Lincoln.

"Can I tell you something," she said. "But between us."

Lincoln raised his eyebrow. This was not the Lynn he knew, he thought. "Sure, between us."

She sighed. "I had often wished I could be cute or more girly like Lori or Leni."

"Really," he said while looking at the stars. "How come?"

She was rubbing the grass with her finger. "I like sports. I enjoy playing it. But, I get frown upon by other girls because it is not girly. Also, people talk."

"People talk," he said. "What do you mean."

"Thinking that my tomboyishness means that I am a lesbian."

He turned his head towards her. "Really?"

"Don't tell no one I have told you that," she said. "That hurts me." She looked at the stars. "I knew I was different from other girls. I don't enjoy the same things like Leni or Lori or Lola. I love getting dirty and hanging out with the girls with roller derby or skateboarding with the boys. It is what I like."

She took another breath. "Yesterday when I was at school, a girl asked me out. I turned her down. She told other people. It spread like wildfire."

"I am sorry to hear that. How come you didn't tell no one."

"I was scared. I mean, it is not every day to be questioned in that form."

He sat back and exhaled his breath. "What is a category?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, who are we to place ourselves in a form based on interest." He wrapped his arms around his sister's neck. "You are a tomboy because you like things that typical girls don't like. I guarantee that there are masculine guys or feminine girls that are gay or lesbian; or feminine boys and masculine girls that are straight. So, who gives a damn about a label."

"Lincoln," said Lynn.

"Look at me. I prefer girls that are more tomboyish and more dominant than me. Why did you think I was chasing after Ronnie Anne? Does that make me gay for liking a girl that has masculine qualities? Don't ever place yourself like that."

"Lincoln," said Lynn.

"Love yourself for who you are, Lynn. If you prefer to play sports and get dirty, then get dirty. I for one enjoys pedicures and manicures when I get opportunities. It isn't what you do, but how you feel. For the record, even if you were a lesbian, I wouldn't judge you any different. Your choice is your choice. I support your decisions no matter what you do."

"Are you serious," asked Lynn.

"Yes," responded Lincoln. "Being a girly girl is your choice for your volition; not for the volition of others. If you allow others to dictate your life, then how are you going to live? Once again, I took a black eye for a girl that is twice the man I will ever be. And you know what, I would do it again."

"Lincoln," she said.

"People are insecure, Lynn. They say what they want to say in order to make themselves feel better. People are going to hate. Pardon my French, but to hell with them. I mean, my best friend has two fathers. Do I care? Of course, not. He is my bro. Not only that, he is black. And I am cool with that. Live your life and don't worry about others."

She wrapped her arms around Lincoln. "Thanks, little bro for making me comfortable with myself."

"Anytime, sis," replied Lincoln. "That is what siblings do. To be there for each other." He kind of chuckled. "And thank you for making me feel better."

"Don't mention it, champ," she responded by hitting him on the shoulder.

The duo giggled before deciding to rest on the blanket. They were lying down watching the stars.

"Tonight is really beautiful," said Lynn.

"It is like a widescreen view," said Lincoln. "Who needs television?"

She laughed. "Lincoln."

"Yeah?"

"How did you get that black eye from Ronnie Anne?"

He blushed. "I have tried to kiss her."

"Didn't go too well," she said while giggling.

"At least there was physical contact?" He shrugged his shoulders while rubbing his shiner. "It should go away in a month or so."

"It is her loss," she said. "You would've made an awesome boyfriend."

'What will be, will be," responded Lincoln.

"Que sera, sera," she retorted. "Know that feeling too well."

He stretched his arms before laying them on his head. "Yep!" He had closed his eyes, massaging his fingers to calm the tension with his eyelids. When he had opened them, he saw his sister standing over him.

"What's up," questioned Lincoln.

She kneeled down and pressed her lips to his. It caught him by surprise. He sat there motionless as his sister was stealing his lips. She broke the kiss.

"Yep," she said. "Didn't know what she was missing."

She returned back to the blanket and rested her head on his shoulder. He could have questioned it but decided against it. That would be for another day.

Chapter Text

Lincoln walked inside of a place that was called Magnolia's Coffee and Books. It was a cross between an art studio, a restaurant, and a dive bar, completed with the decorations of books, magazine, and the like. The place even sold coffee. The establishment was not there long. The manager who had owned the place was a transplant from New Orleans. A drifter, Lincoln thought, Hurricane Katrina was the motive that made owner go from place to place until she was able to find a place of her own. And she ended up in the quaint Detroit suburb of Royal Woods.

The manager once told Lincoln that it was not the murky, swampy humid environment she left, but hopefully, through the food and atmosphere she provided, it could be home.

Anyway, the manager was not the reason for his visiting the establishment. It was through a stretch of the manager that Lori was able to find a job. It was Lori's first job and her parents were thrilled with the timing. Lori had recently gotten her driver's license and was interested in buying a new car. Through the advice of her parents, if she wanted to get a car, then she had to get a job.

Of course, being Lori, she managed to find a loophole. She made a consensus with her parents. If she can manage to stay at her job for a year, then she could just pay her car note. A worthy deal, she thought. She agreed to the deal.

One week down, fifty-one to go.

"Lori," said the manager with her deep southern dialect. "Make sure ya clean 'da dishes properly befo' ya leave for ya break. Ya hear?"

Straining as she was finishing giving money to a customer. "Yes," she sighed. She rubbed her hand through her fingers before closing the register. Lincoln chuckled as he went to the counter. The manager met him there.

"Oi, the Loud boy is here," said the manager. Lincoln admired her voice. Very authentic, he thought. It reminded him of a combination of Kathy Bates and Ellen DeGeneres. Her eyes and painted fingernails matched the shade of a clear blue sky. Her hair was more of a river of black silk and the ponytail served as its reservoir. "Hiya, manager," said Lincoln. "Wanted to get what's best of the bayou delicacy on this side of the midwest." Both of them smile while Lori contrasted the feeling.

The manager turned to Lori. "Yo' brotha' a keepa," she smiled. "Chocolate milk on 'da house."

"Fine," responded Lori. Lincoln knew that Lori was frustrated since she began her job. However, in a way, he felt appreciated. Lori had always used her looks and her charms to escape responsibility. Either that or allow her boyfriend, Bobby, to do the work for her.

Speaking of which, they were no longer together. Bobby and Lori broke up a few weeks ago over a small incident. She didn't go into specifics, but whatever it was, they haven't spoken in quite awhile. Lincoln didn't go unscathed either. Their dissolving of their relationship increased the frequent bullying from Ronnie Anne. Birds of a feather, he concluded. On both ends of the spectrum, he also concluded.

So, seeing his sister in a bind was sort of bringing him a tinge of happiness. He wouldn't call it revenge, but it was a bittersweet result.

Lori can with his chocolate milk and put right in front of him. "So, are you here to give me a hard time or what?" Lincoln knew that Lori has been frustrated with her job and the breaking up of her boyfriend. In the eyes of a teenager, that is compared to being on a road to death row.

He shook his head in disagreement. "Just wanted to see you." He took a sip of his chocolate milk. "Yummy." He wiped his milk mustache with his sleeve.

"C'mon," she protested while putting her hands on your hip. "You are making fun."

He shook his head again. "No. I just wanted to spend time with you."

"You are not mad for what happened between Bobby and me?"

"No."

"For what Ronnie Anne is doing to you?"

He rubbed his now fading bruise on his arm. "No."

"Then what?"

"How do you mean?"

"Lincoln, this is not you." She leaned toward him. "I know when you face issues with a trouble, there is an ace up your sleeve."

He took another sip of his milk. "Yes, an ace. By walking the twenty-minute route from our house to over here."

She was taken aback before leaning on the table. "So, you really wanted to see me?"

"Umm, umm," he replied while finishing the rest of his milk. He placed the cup down. "This is a great cup of milk." He faced the manager. "You could tell this was homemade. My compliments to you."

The manager nodded her head with a smile before walking into the kitchen.

"My break is in a few minutes," said Lori. "We can talk outside. Okay?"

Lincoln shook his head. "Okay."

Lincoln waited outside on the wooden bench outside of the bookstore. The bookstore was situated where he could see the park, the mayor's office, and the gas station within view. He took a breath as he waited for his sister.

Honestly, he did not hold any grudges on his sister. He couldn't hold a grudge even if it was precious gold. That wasn't how he operated. However, she did have a right to be concerned. He did have an ace up his sleeve. He chuckled to himself. They don't call me Ace Savvy for nothing.

The bell rang on the door as he saw Lori stepped out of the bookstore. She smelled of coffee beans. He sniffed her apron when she sat next to him.

"Look out," she said while taking a step back.

"I like your coffee scent," he replied.

"If you say so," she said before shrugging her shoulders.

She rested her arms on the bench. Lori did display a hint of exhaustion. "I swear to God if I have to serve one more cup today, I am going to lose my freaking mind."

"It's a worthy cause," he interjected. "You are at a place where they have music, fun, food, and excitement."

"Yeah, right," she said. "At the expense of serving you guys left and right."

"Look at it this way," he said. "Hard work does not come cheap." He shifted his head toward her car.

She pushed his head with her hand. "This better be damn worth it." She scoffed before looking at the street. "Does mom and dad know you are here."

"I told them that I was going out, but I didn't say where."

"You are my brother," she said. "I am rubbing too much of my rebellion on you."

"I am learning from the best," he responded in a form of a question.

"Oh, you are such a bad boy," she said with a playful tone. "Careful if you show up five minutes after curfew."

"Aren't you a good time," questioned Lincoln.

Lori didn't respond. She pulled a pack of Hi-Lites from her apron pocket.

"Got a match?"

Lincoln pulled a book of matches from his pocket and gave it to Lori. Lori wasn't really a smoker. She smoked whenever she felt stressed. Or anything that changes her everyday routine. So, breaking up with Bobby and getting a new job was one of them.

She inhaled a few puffs before discarding the match on the ground. "Anyway, twerp. Out with it."

"Out with what?"

She exhaled a cloud of smoke in Lincoln's direction. "You have that sly look. I saw it before I went outside. I even saw you rub your hands together."

Lincoln looked puzzled.

She raised her eyebrow before narrowing it in his eyes. "Ace Savvy, if you may?"

Lincoln blushed.

"God, you are predictable, squirt." She took another puff. "Now tell me what you want."

Lincoln looked at his sister before sighing. "Can you take me to Johnson's Creek tonight."

"What for?"

"Because."

"Because is too short of an answer," she replied with a hint of annoyance. "Out with it."

He sighed. "A dare."

"A dare?"

"Yes."

Lori knew that Lincoln don't succumb to peer pressure easily. She took another breath. "Ronnie Anne?"

He didn't respond.

She flicked her cigarette. "What's over there at Johnson's Creek that requires me to take the thirty-minute drive out there?"

"Umi no Misaki," he responded.

She widened her eyes before giving him a glare. She stubbed her cigarette before throwing it at another car. "Umi no Misaki. Ocean's Cape. The cliff. Really, Lincoln?"

He nodded his head, but not facing Lori.

"You know that Umi no Misaki or Ocean's Cape is not a game to play with Linc," she said. "For your age, that is a suicide mission."

"She told me that the creek is supposed to be over thirty feet deep."

"It hasn't rained in awhile."

"Yeah, but the ice should have compensated. I mean, it has been over a month since spring."

Lincoln and Lori paused when seeing a couple leave the bookstore before walking in the direction of the park across the street.

"What's your deal with this," asked Lori.

"To prove myself."

"On what?"

"That I am not a coward."

"Look, Linc. Ronnie Anne is messing with you because of her brother. You know how family can be when things go awry."

"She said bad things about you. Things that I don't want to repeat, sis."

She scoffed. "So, earlier your sly look says that it is a dare. But at the same time, it is to defend my honor. God, you are my brother."

Lincoln went quiet for a moment. "So, what do you say?"

Lori pulled another cigarette from her pocket. "I need time to think." She stood up from the bench. "When I get off, we will talk about it."

She pulled her keys from her pocket. "Come on. While I still have time left, I will take you home."

"Okay," he responded.

Lori and Lincoln stepped inside of her car before departing the bookstore. Lori pulled out a CD where she was playing soft rock. The first track of her CD was a song performed by Gilbert O'Sullivan, "Alone Again (Naturally)." Hearing the song made both of their stomachs churned.

They both silently prayed to themselves that this wasn't an omen.

Chapter Text

That girl. The one from the diner. You know. The one that I watched after I have done Rocky? I have thought about her again. That is rare. I only think that way when there is something powerful. A force. Something that compels me to see her that outdoes anybody else. There isn't a display of weakness. The type that has it all together. The type that allures me to know more.

The type that makes me want to…. The type that makes me want to…. I can't come up with the words. A tinge within makes me a bit envious because she has emotions that I think, rather yet, know that I am incapable of.

She reminds me on one of my victims. Her name is not important. Her history is not important. The only reason I have chosen her was because she was wearing a pretty necklace. Unlike that child from the theater, this necklace appeared real. It shined and encaptured anybody who saw. And I wasn't talking about the necklace.

She called to me in such a gentle voice. She waved her hands to come to her. Playing the role of curious, unfaltered child, I went to see what she wanted. She was in front of a church. A catholic church, if I remembered. She was helping with other parishioners with the elderly, the poor, the homeless. Or in my terms, the formidable cesspit that deserved to be discarded and incinerated like the trash they were.

Her skin was soft and pale like a snow that was gently gathering on even ground. Her hair was red, like the fire in my heart that wanted to extinguish her fire. Her eyes were green like an emerald necklace. She looked young, not too far from my older sisters.

With curiosity around her gentle lips, she asked me if I believed that is there is peace in the world. Dumbfounded with the obviosity of her questioned, I responded with a crackled "yes." She asked me rather or not do I have a relationship with the Lord. Seriously, I have thought. With her beauty and the robustness of her necklace, I have thought she had better sense. Darwin is my savior. Your Christian God does not challenge me. To serve such a subservient role of being my master. Yeah, right. Of course, I crackled. "Yes."

I stayed with her for the rest of day. I have watched minister to those cockroaches. I have watched her feed and served food with these animals that needed to be put down. Excuse me, they are not animals. That would be an insult to the animal kingdom. At least with them, they are capable of having a battle. At least with them, they know their place. There is a caste system, a hierarchy. They know their place of prey and predator.

Yet again, if humans didn't contest themselves, then would I have been in this business? A warm calming voice always reminded me, "Continue to follow my works. Faith without works is dead. Lucy, I have chosen you to create a dominion in which the alphas reign supreme." I don't want to disappoint him. Many are chosen, but only a few follow through.

What was interesting, since I am on the topic of serving, she told me after finishing her duties about how we must sacrifice our time for the greater good. She followed her inside of the church where she discussed how we must find our Isaiah. "Isaiah," I questioned her with pleading eyes. She told me that a man named Abraham was challenged by God to kill his son, Isaiah. He had to be sacrificed. "Did he do it," I asked her. She told me that Abraham went through, but Isaiah didn't die. It was a test of loyalty.

Loyalty, I retorted her. Loyalty and trust do go together like my trust of my oneself and my loyalty to Darwin. Better yet, my style on how I wanted to kill people. That doesn't make sense, but hell this is my story.

With her gentle eyes, she replied that we all have an Isaiah in our life. Something we must sacrifice in order to give God his time.

"Time," I responded. I have made up in my mind that she was going to be my next victim.

It was nightfall when I asked her to take me home. She did. However, we were not going to the direction of what she thought was my home. However, it did serve as a site of many of my "masterpieces."

When we parked in front of my "house," I gave her one final question. "If we find our Isaiah. And I can make a guess that these Isaiah are things that indulge our fantasies, then what will happen?"

She told me that all we need is a moment to show kindness, then everything will fall into place. If we are open to compassion, then everything falls in line.

I can't quite remember what she has told me. Her words became fragile as her neck did when I used my shoelace to strangle her. She struggled as I had her in my grip from the backseat. She was a fool for thinking that a child needed to be there. That there sealed her fate as I conspired on how I wanted to end it. She tried to struggle, but I placed my foot on the seat until I have finally snapped it apart from its trachea.

Her voice, although lovely and pleasant, started to irritate me. Excuse my vernacular, but it was pissing me off. Compassion, she told. Unbelievable! To think that a beta like her thought that was what the world needs? Unacceptable, I said when I strangled her. My anger exceeds what she offered her compassion. Can she forgive now? I have asked her as she rolled into a fetal position. Could she forgive me? She had never answered. Oh yeah, that is right. When your neck is snapped, it is quite hurt to talk.

As she gurgled in an attempt to draw her final breaths, I have asked one simple question. "Where is your compassion for me?" I drew her such a pleasant smile. I stroked her warm cheek before watching the color fade away. Those beautiful emerald eyes faded away. Then, nothing. It went cold. The car, her, me. Cold, cold, cold.

I kissed her lips, took the necklace, and made my exit. I have returned to the darkness where I belonged. Where I deserved. Where I claimed. For it was the darkness that was and is to come after I am no longer of this world.

I swear, why do people think that a gentle, frail voice is an attractive quality on seeking their own personal penance? Do you think that you are better than me because you are free? It irks me to the furthest of all things. That is why betas like you deserve your fate. Maybe if you weren't so compassionate, then you would never offer me a ride home.

I sorry, you have caught me in a tangent. I tend to have those moments when I catch a sting. This sting has and always will have me in its grasp. It is something that I have contested as well. That feeling, I think, is called remorse? A conscience? Guilt? Now I digress.

The night air whispered around me, dead black.

Was it a rush?

Like nothing else, I respond.

Does the blood boil with excitement?

More than excitement. More than breathing. More than cradling a child when hearing it take its first breath. More than a feeling than I have ever known.

There is something about having this kind of thrill.

It is the sweetest thing I have ever known.

Do you know what impact you are doing?

Are you aware that I am serving under Darwin's will?

Even wills don't last. They fade away like a memory.

A memory that will make an impression. Hitler, Hussein, Mussolini couldn't paint a picture of impact. Watch me work. I am still a novice compared to these other alphas. Before I leave this earth, the names of Gacy, Bundy, and Rader would be just promising rookies.

Do thy will, my Lucy.

Do what thou wilt.

I have placed my key inside of the slot. I am very quiet when entering inside of my domicile. I keep looking forward. The television blaring in the living room is evidence that many of them are still awake.

Mom and dad are looking at television. They have their arms wrapped around each other. They are the only ones down here. The others have to be in their rooms. Either way, I don't care.

"Lucy," says the voice of my mother. "Glad that you are home. How was your outing?"

"Got plenty of fresh air," I tell her. "Able to breath and to think."

"That is nice, dear," responds my mother. "Care to watch television with us?"

I shake my head. "No, thank you. I rather go to bed and call it the night."

"That is fine, dear," says my mother. "Good night."

"Good night," I respond.

Not even one time does my father make an attempt on talking to me. His eyes stare straight to the television as if my mother is talking to a mirage or talking to the television. I have picked up since a few months ago. Whenever I am around him, his ears twitch. It bobs a couple of times before turning red. I guess that is because he knows that I am not the same Lucy. He has been despondent with me since that day when I gave that girl her own crucifixion.

I am not stupid. He knows. He knows. He. Knows.

This is not the same Lucy, he must be telling himself.

He has every right to be concerned.

I am wondering if the police have found Rocky yet. I am now wondering if his parents are noticing is absence. I look at my phone. It is a few minutes after nine.

Only a matter of time.

I take my leave from the "birth givers" and make my way upstairs. As I make my way to the hallway, it was complete silence. I don't care. They should not be surprised by my eeriness. I release a breath before entering Lincoln's room.

I close the door before locking it. No one is going to see what I am going to do with him. He waits patiently like a good boy should on his bed. He stares at me with fear. It is cute in a way. By now, he should be adjusted to it. However, I don't care how he feels. That is because whenever I am here, he belongs to me.

I walk very gently to his direction. He is trembling, how cute.

"Lincoln," I purr to him.

He is shaking like a leaf. I use my hand to stroke his white hair. His hair does not compare to how he is looking in the face.

"Look at you," I tell him. I put my face on his cheek. "You are scared. Aren't you?"

In time, I plant my lips around him. I grab him by his shoulder and suck him any of his fears. I want it all. His body, his mind, his spirit, and over his soul. I tell him to lay all of his burdens to me, for he is mine.

A trail of saliva bridges us.

He edges back to the bed. He resides to the covers where he awaits my orders.

As I have my way with my brother, the thought of that woman returned to me. She reminded me that we must sacrifice Isaiah in order to give God his time.

She can have Isaiah for that is not Lincoln's name.

Before I go all the way with him, I have told him that I am going to need his help on the next mission.

"Yes, mistress," he replies.

I smile and give him another kiss before turning out the light.

Chapter Text

She sat at the bus stop waiting for the rain to settle. She wasn't surprised that rain was approaching; she saw it on her cellphone app before leaving the house. She shrugged it off like anything else that aids to her teenage rebellion. Her scoffing over the weather gave her a tinge of an ego, or at least she concluded in her mind. The rain pelted the ceiling, giving the sleeveless Luna a chill. In retrospect, she thought, even wasn't cool enough to defy the elements of nature.

Her rock session with her upcoming group was canceled due to having no electricity. Instead of a jamming session, she decided to participate in a smoking session. Not a fan of smoking marijuana directly, she opted to consume it through second-hand smoke. In her conscience, she wasn't smoking the drug, but getting a contact high. Desiring a reckless, yet ruthless lifestyles of Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Ozzy Osbourne, and the like, this would be a star to her upcoming fandom.

She kicked back on the chairs while fading in the afterglow of her second-hand contact high and jamming to the demo of her upcoming mixtape with her band.

"Oh, hell yeah," she said to herself. "This mixtape is gonna kick so much ass." She patted her hands on her lap to rock with the beat. At this point time, the band only had four members. Each interchangeably acting in particular roles. She was voted to be the vocal and guitar player. She didn't have much of a voice, but her pseudo-British-Swedish accent gave her an edge. One of the band players guaranteed that her voice was their ticket into fame. But honestly, playing the guitar was her forte than anything else. Nevertheless, if signing gave her a foot in the door, then she was going to go for it.

As she continuing listening to her own voice, she decided to see if Lincoln was home. She knew that the others had their own plans. Earlier before leaving for her rock session, she watched staring at the window looking like a lone puppy or someone waiting for their mother. She wanted to speak to him, but she did not have much time. Her philosophy in music: time doesn't wait for no one. However, as she was jamming during its briefness or nestled in the confines of the marijuana smog, Lincoln never left her mind. The look on his face screamed disappointment and the failed ill-attempt of consoling her brother made her churned. No longer wanting to chill, she decided to head home.

She reached for her cellphone. On the wallpaper was an image of the sibling duo at their first rock concert. Or at least together. She remembered when she tried her hardest not to ruin his first concert. She knew that she can be awfully annoying, even to the point where others darted at the first string of her guitar. It hurt, but it was the way of her showing her affections for her family.

That was why she tried so hard to impress Lincoln because she wanted to show how she cared for him. Of course, it almost went south when Lincoln was facing jail time for illegally purchasing concert tickets, but it was her who saved the day for disguising herself as their mother to take her to the concert. They both had a blast and that alone built a foundation in their relationship.

They promised that once a month, they would get together for a jamming session. And at each jamming session, they promised to bring a new song or a new artist to the fray. She couldn't forget when Lincoln brought Chicago to their private show and tell. In return, she brought the Rolling Stone. Although she was a fan of British Rock, it didn't hurt to help a novice Lincoln to get him into her kind of music.

Each session was a calming type of vibe. Lying in the basement, sitting in bean bag chairs. Darkness with the exception of the lava lamp that served as the centerpiece. It was their small ounce of heaven as the duo rocked on to their music.

As time went on, they even introduced Japanese and Korean rock. They even laughed during their trip hop sessions.

Luna exhaled with pride as she wrapped her hands around her phone. She kissed the picture of her dear brother. She felt that she have found one key to enter his heart. Or better yet, he found the key to her heart.

She picked up the phone to call him, but it didn't receive an answer. She waited a few seconds. She decided to calm him again, but no answer. She was a bit worried. Very aberrant, she thought. She had thought about calling the others but changed her mind. She decided that she was going to weather out the storm until it subsided.

When she felt that the weather was enough for her to handle, she carefully stepped out of the bus stop and made her way home. Her guitar was wrapped in a garbage bag that she attained from a friend. Another plastic bag was there to accompany her head as she made the six-block walk home.

As she walked, she continued to call Lincoln, but no answer. What is going on with the boy, she thought. This isn't like him. I hope that he is okay. I hope that….

She stopped as she felt the chill in her spine. She didn't want to focus more on that thought. As the wind began picking up the pace, she decided to make it faster on her venture home.

By the time Luna approached the front yard of her home, she looked half drown from the rain. Her hair was swooping over her eyes like a tail of a wet dog. Suddenly, a flash of lightning, followed by the sound of thunder scared her. She fell onto the sidewalk. She was fortunate that she missed the mud by a couple of inches. With her clothes soaked, there was nothing better than to come home. She smiled at the thought that at least she can take a warm bath and spend the rest of her Saturday with Lincoln.

Black coffee, teacakes, and show Swedish rock with my little bro would be soothing for the soul, she thought to herself. She reached for the front door but realized it was locked. She slapped her forehead with her head; frustrated that she forgot her key. Ever since that incident with their father on keeping doors unlocked, he had made sure that he was going to have them followed by their word. Every Loud, including Lily, had a spare key for the house. Absentmindedly, she left her key in her bedroom. She was so much in a hurry that she forget it.

She peeked into the living room window, but the curtains were too dense for her to see. Even at this point, she was unsure if Lincoln was home. Maybe Lincoln went with Mom, or with one of the girls, or with that Ronnie Anne, the latter of her thought she scoffed with disgust.

Knowing that Lincoln might have a crush on Ronnie Anne or generally any other girl made her frustrated, or lack of a better word. She wanted to be the one to vie for his affection. That was the main reason why she came up with him coming to the concert. It was a way of breaking the ice. It was a way to show her feelings for him.

Later that night, both were sitting on his bedroom floor, talking about the things that happened. SMOOCH was playing in the background. There were tears of laughter, evident on Lincoln's face as it was smudging. Both had their hands wrapped around each other recalling the events of that night.

While Lincoln was basking in the afterglow, Luna was in another frame of mind. She couldn't help but stare at the lone brother of the Loud family. Her heart began beating beyond the tempo of rock beats. It was there where she wanted to make a move. She didn't get that chance. Her mother walked in and told them to go to bed. She went to bed and rested her final thought on Lincoln. Along with the vibrator, she kept hidden under her bed. It had belonged to Leni, but she knew Leni wouldn't miss it.

Having that thought delayed her breath. The thought of getting her fill of Lincoln that she started feeling tense. She knew that if no one was home, she was going to have a private session of her own. She went from the front porch to the backyard. She remembered her father telling them that there was a spare from under the rug.

She entered the home where she was met with silence. She closed the door before putting the spare key on the counter. She put her guitar on the kitchen table. Then, she noticed a faint smell of popcorn. She put her hands on the microwave.

It's warm, she thought to herself. One thing was for certain, someone was here. She made her way to the living room. It was there where she saw a DVD of The Breakfast Club on the living room table. Along with that was a unfolded blanket and half eaten popcorn in a bowl.

When investigating the DVD, on the cover was the signature of its owner, Leni.

"Lincoln, Leni," she called aloud.

There was no answer.

"Lincoln, Leni," she called again.

Suddenly, she began to hear a faint sound. At first, she thought it was the sound of the raindrops. However, there was something distinct about the sound. The sound was very riveting. Although it was faint, but it was melodic. She scanned the living room, looking for the source. Knowing that she has a musician's ear, it shouldn't have been hard. She wrapped her hands around her ear, carefully listening.

I keep hearin' you're concerned about my happiness

But all that thought you're givin' me is conscience I guess

If I was walkin' in your shoes, I wouldn't worry none

While you 'n' your friends are worried about me I'm havin' lots of fun

"The Statler Brothers," she said aloud.

She assumed that it was coming from the stairs. She walked toward to the source of the song. She made her up the stairs, the song getting more recognizable and louder by each step.

Countin' flowers on the wall

That don't bother me at all

Playin' solitaire till dawn with a deck of fifty-one

Smokin' cigarettes and watchin' Captain Kangaroo

Now don't tell me I've nothin' to do

As she made her way to the hallway, she saw something that was very distinguishable. The door to Leni and Lori's room was closed. Quite usual, she thought, because the doors were always opened in the day. There were the occasional moments when they have their time of the month and did not want to be disturbed, but most of the time, the family was aware.

The chorus continued to ring as she was steadily approaching the room. As she aimed for the door, she heard something that was in addition to the song. The sound of coils and spring bouncing rapidly from the bed. It was a distinct tempo, off-beat from the music, but in tempo with the groove of itself.

Then, she heard the sound of a moan.

Luna covered her mouth. She shouldn't be surprised that her older sister was of age. Her parents have talked with her, Luan, Lynn, Lori, and Leni about abstinence. However, if either of them "fell into weakness," they have given them a box of condoms for protection. She kept hers in her drawer, next to her vibrator. She had hoped to use them eventually.

Luna listened as the moans were frighteningly alluring. Each was deeper than the last. It was the sound of a woman who was at the moment. Caught in the rapture of lovemaking. Luna imagined that those moans were soul-sucking, drawing much breath as she could before making the big one.

"Whoever Leni is with is really giving her a good time," she said before sighing. "God, do I envy her."

Instead of leaving, she pressed her ear to the door. She wanted to observe, to study the interaction of her sister. No, the interaction of a woman in the sequence of love-making. No, an animal in the sea of lust.

"Harder, harder," moaned Leni. Luna listened how the song continued ringing, but the sounds of Leni was overtaking the song. She can hear Leni seeping her saliva from her tongue. "Harder, harder, I beg of you," Leni screamed again.

Luna closed her eyes, trying to imagine if she were in that predicament. She kneeled as she drew her in her skirt. Barely touching her cavern, the slightest touch of her hand emitted a moan from the curious Luna. Her breath became shallow, wanting a taste of what her sister was getting. She looked around hoping no one was coming. She dived deeper with her hands into her pussy as she musters the sensation to the thought of having a dick inside of her.

"Lincoln," Luna moaned as she continued to stroke her cavern. The fluids were leaking quickly as she knew she was in heat. She tried to mask her mouth with her hands, in case if she were to get caught.

"Fuck me, fuck me," screamed Leni while moaning. "You don't have no idea how much I wanted this. Yes! Yes! YES!"

Luna tucked in her lip. She continued to dig deeper into her honey pot, she was looking for the sweet spot. The sounds of her juices being released from her cavern. She knew at any moment, her dam was going to burst.

"Lincoln," she moaned quietly. "God, take me away." Luna kept one hand on her pussy and the other hand to keep her balance. Now the serenade of her moans, Leni's moans, and The Statler Brothers were becoming such a lustrous trinity.

"I am coming. I am coming," cried Leni.

"I am coming, too," Luna purred.

"Pump your hot seed in me," cried Leni. "Make me pregnant, Lincoln."

Luna's fantasy faded away along with the ending of the song. Her eyes became widened as if her ears did not deceive on what she had just heard. Suddenly, her hands wrapped around the knob, the door opened, and Luna fell forward inside of the forbidden temple.

And sure enough, everything went to silence. Except for the sound of the rain and the crackling of the record player fading from the distance.

Chapter Text

Clyde was sitting beside Lincoln on the bench. In his hand was the copy of Rolling Stone magazine with Axl Rose on the cover. He flipped through the pages scanning without any discretion. Lincoln on the other hand sat with his head on his hands. His eyes were filled with worry. His clothes had the slept-on look. The best friends were at the arcade. It was the only arcade in town. A room where memories of the 80's and 90's lived on through the former predecessors of Super Nintendo, Sega, and first-generation Playstation. There weren't many people there. Of course, there were a handful of devoted patrons. They were people who grew up before the overthrow of the millennial era of cell phones, internet, and the like. The pair enjoyed spending time there. The owner of the joint appeared to have the cash to keep a place like this open. A dedication to yesteryear, the pair concluded.

Lincoln and Clyde were there to kill time. They needed somewhere to crash before they wait on Lori to pick them up to Johnson's Creek. If his parents knew where he was headed, they wouldn't have let him go. Knowing that Clyde was going to have his back, he created his alibi.

To his parent's knowledge, Lincoln was going to spend the night over at Clyde's. Being his best friend, his parents were too trusting to allow permission of his going over there. However, both of Clyde's parents have reserved an overnight stay at a hotel for their anniversary. His parents told Clyde to not to have any visitors. They knew they were facing a risk for their lies, but hopefully, they were planning to straighten it before Clyde's parents return in the morning. As for Lori, she was going to pick them up from the arcade. When the deed at the creek was done, Lori was going to take the duo back at Clyde's. Lincoln could manage to return back home before Clyde's parents come home. The friends only live a few blocks from each other.

That was their plan and they were sticking to it.

"So, you are really going to go with this," asked Clyde while continuing to read the magazine without looking at Lincoln.

"Yep," sighed Lincoln while sighing with a hint of frustration and fear.

"I don't get you," replied Clyde. "Why go to great lengths to protect Lori's honor? I thought you hated her guts."

"Clyde," he retorted. "You of all people would do the same if you were in my shoes." He scoffed. "You have a major crush on my sister."

He smiled. "Yeah, I do like me some Lori." He adjusted himself while coughing. "However I do have my limits. Umi no Misaki? That is a suicide mission."

"You don't think I know that," questioned Lincoln. "What am I supposed to do? Ronnie Anne was harassing me. She called out my sister. I don't like when people put my family's name in their mouth."

Clyde put down the magazine. "Look, Linc. Ronnie Anne is upset because of Lori and her brother's breaking up. It has nothing to do with you."

"Then why does it hurt if it is just the two of them," he questioned. He rolled his sleeve to show where Ronnie Anne injured him a few days back. "What does this bruise show, Clyde."

"Tough love," questioned Clyde.

"Very funny, Clyde," replied Lincoln as he took the magazine from Clyde. "You should start booking your own shows. Maybe, I can be your manager."

Clyde was taken aback. "If it wasn't for the fact of your sister, then I would be kind of insulted."

Lincoln darted his eyes in Clyde's direction. "Sorry, man. Don't take it personal. I just have a lot on my mind."

"I know, bro. I know."

The clock was approaching a few minutes to nine in the evening when Lincoln and Clyde left the arcade and headed for the burger joint across the street. Both ordered the same thing: double cheeseburgers with extra onions and large fries. According to Lincoln's sister, Lynn, onions were to promote courage when facing pressure. Lincoln ate plenty of it to ensure on that. He was nervous, but he had a settle to score. One thing was for certain, no one was going to talk about a Loud.

Lincoln heard his cell phone ring. He had already known it was his sister, Lori. He picked it up on the first ring.

"Hey, sis," said Lincoln.

"I am town. Are you close," questioned Lori.

"Yeah. I am at the burger joint near the arcade."

"Ok. Be there in a few seconds."

"I am here."

"Hey, twerp."

"Yeah."

"You know that you don't have to do this. You can back out. I am not judging you."

There was a moment of silence. "No."

"Okay," she sighed. "Be ready for me when I pull up."

"Gotcha."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Lincoln and Clyde stood in the parking lot when Lori approached them. Just for extra precaution, she wasn't alone. In the front seat was his other older sister, Leni.

"Hey Linc, Clyde," said Leni as she was waving her hand out of the window.

Lincoln's eyes widened. "Why did you bring her?"

Lori narrowed her eyes at Lincoln. "Get in the car."

Clyde and Lincoln got into the backseat. The quad left the parking lot and was on their way to Johnson's Creek.

Lori had the window door as she pulled out another cigarette that she could smoke. Leni asked if she can have one. Lori gave her one and both sisters were smoking. Lori pulled out the auxiliary cord and plugged her cell phone. Then, the sound of trap music filled the car as they entered the highway.

"I brought Leni with me because she had overheard us when we came home," replied Lori.

"I just think that is sweet of wanting to defend our sister, Linc," Leni said with a gentle smile. "I have always known you were a sweet brother. I wish I could hug you, but I am in the front seat right now. Perhaps later?"

"Sure, Leni," replied Lincoln. "Whenever you want to."

Lori turned the volume up on the radio as they continued to make their way to Johnson's Creek.

"Twerp, I know that Ronnie Anne is going to be there," she said. "Anyone else?"

"Didn't give it much thought," replied Lincoln.

"Thinking of her age," interjected Clyde. "She won't be alone. Best bet that Bobby is going to be there."

Lori hit the steering wheel. "Fuck," she said loudly. "Why didn't I think about that. Shit!" She took another drag of the cigarette. The puff sounded more forceful. She appeared really frustrated. She looked at Lincoln from the mirror.

"Relax, Lori," said Leni. "Everything is going to be okay. We are here and that is all that matters."

"Yeah," retorted Clyde. "I am here to protect you at all cost."

"Great," she said with much exaggeration from my tone. "How in the hell did I drag myself in this." She looked at Lincoln once again. "This better be worth it, twerp."

Johnson's Creek was located on the county line outside of Royal Woods. It was an arbitrary, situated along a major river that ran to Detroit. The creek was a popular destination for teenagers because of its sandbars. However, what is treacherous was that the sandbars were uneven and could collapse without any warning. Nevertheless, many of the Royal Woods teenagers frequented the place. Rather to have fun or to engage in their makeout sessions, Johnson's Creek was something to offer; especially the well-known Umi no Misaki, or Ocean's Cape.

According to the information given to Lincoln from Clyde, Umi no Misaki was named after a girl who drowned in the river because the love she had for a boy was forbidden. There was a particular spot at the cliff where if chosen right and jumped into its murky waters, the image of the dead girl would be there. If she comes for you, then you are the missing love she was looking for.

Lincoln did not believe in such urban legends. He concluded that the reason why it was called Umi no Misaki was because of Japanese romanticism. Be as it may, he was going to go and face his challenge.

When seeing the Royal Woods county line, Lori knew she was close. At the next exit, she drove to a side road that would lead them to Johnson's Creek. She looked at the clock on her console. It was a few minutes after ten in the evening. The evening chill was picking up and she decided to roll up the window. No longer the trap music was playing. Nothing was going on in the car. It was pure silence, with the exception of the tires rolling on gravel.

As she was driving on the road, the two-lane road turned into dirt word. From the side, she was seeing the uneven ground turning into a dip. She knew she was approaching the creek. When seeing the wooden sign saying Johnson's Creek, they had made to their destination.

When approaching the entrance of the creek, she saw another car in the lot. She already knew that it was Bobby. She put the car in park and turned off the engine. The car went into total darkness.

She turned to Lincoln. "Let's get this out of the way, okay?"

He shook his head.

"Go on out, go to the cliff, jump off, and then we can go home," she told him.

He shook his head in agreement.

After a few moments, the quad left the car and walked to the small pathway. The sounds of crickets and owl filled the atmosphere. The further they walked, the more they began hearing the rushing water.

"The creek is very active tonight isn't it," asked Leni.

"It really is," replied Clyde. "A little rougher than usual. Then yet again, spring is here."

"Both of you guys just shut up," retorted Lori. "Don't have time for these observations."

The quad continued to walk where they would meet the river. Then, they saw flashlights glowing from the distance.

"Who goes there," questioned the voice.

"You already know who it is, Ronnie Anne," said Lincoln.

From the distance, Ronnie Anne appeared and from behind was her older brother, Bobby. Bobby appeared flustered. He had a look of why was he doing here? This was not a place for a kid or him included.

"Lincoln," she said.

"Ronnie Anne," he replied.

"So, you actually had balls for you to show up," she said with a smirk on her face. She flashed her flashlight at the others. "So, you needed witnesses for your demise?"

"Save that when Lincoln shows your ass up," said Clyde.

She scoffed. "Whatever." She turned to Bobby. "Anything you want to say?"

Bobby stammered but was calm. "I have nothing. Let's just get this over with." He walked past the quad without given Lori a second look. Lori grabbed her chest where her heart was located.

They all went up a few yards before approaching the steep cliff. Ronnie Anne ventured further, investigating the place. She turned around before approaching them.

"Okay, you ass," she told Lincoln. "Here is the score. Jump the cliff."

Clyde was growing concern, especially hearing the sound of the rushing water. "Ronnie Anne, I am unsure if this is not a good…."

"No one asked you," she retorted. "Now, Lincoln. Go and jump."

Lincoln sighed as he walked past them to approach the edge. Before he attempted to jump, he went and took off his clothes. He neatly placed them next to his shoes. The only thing he had on was only his boxers. Lincoln felt the evening chill enveloping him, making him shiver.

"It is like you are asking the county coroner to make it a mystery for them to identify you," she smirked.

Lori intervened. "Lincoln, you don't have to do this. What do you have to prove?"

"Yeah," respond Leni. "We couldn't care about your cowardice."

"Think about your humility," respond Clyde. "This isn't worth it. You have nothing to do with this."

"Shut up," screamed Ronnie Anne. Her screeching voice echoed into the night. "Shut up. Just shut up." She faced Lori. "It is your fault that you ended it with him. So, I am going to make sure that your brother feels this."

Lori faced Ronnie Anne. "Look you, little girl, if you have a problem, then it is with me, not him."

Bobby came and got into the feuding girls. "Lori, Ronnie Anne, stop this. She is right, sis. This isn't right."

She looked at her brother with a serious look. "Are you are going to let her run with this? Are you going to let her embarrass you like that? Did you forget on why y'all broke up?"

"Ronnie."

She faced Lori. "You may have some ill thoughts about others, but I would like to live in the real world." She returned to Lincoln. "Now, jump. Prove yourself, Linc. Do it!"

"No, Linc," replied Lori. "Don't listen to her. Don't forget about our parents, our sisters, Clyde."

"Jump," demanded Ronnie Anne.

"No," said Lori.

"Yes," said Ronnie Anne.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

Both of them were continuing to argue with each other until they heard a sound of a splash. Both of them turned and saw that Lincoln was not there.

"Lincoln," questioned Lori.

All of them walked where Lincoln stood. As they were looking over the dark waters, Lincoln was nowhere to be seen.

"Lincoln," screamed Lori. "Lincoln."

The water from the creek began rushing faster. They waited for a few moments, but there was still no sign of Lincoln.

"Lincoln," Lori screamed. "Lincoln."

At that point in time, the things that were filling the night was the rushing current of the creek and the wails of a worried sister.

Chapter Text

Lincoln started to rethink his decision to jump. Not before taking the twenty-minute walk to his sister's place of work. Not before sitting in the arcade and eating at the burger joint with his best friend. Not before traveling the lone stretch of highway to the creek. Not even before walking down the path to the creek. It was when he watched his sister and Ronnie Anne argued over him. In front of his sight, he watched how two individuals, stretching out their hands, pointing fingers, and shouting into the night over his decision to jump or not to jump.

Their arguing could have served as a perfect opportunity to stall. However, his mind was not changing. As much he wanted to back down from this, as much he knew of the risk he was taking, he couldn't back down. He looked below the dark murky waters. He hears the rushing currents. It told him that anyone that enters would be claimed into the creek. The creek would have property to those who had entered. He swallowed nothing but the darkness of the cold night air.

He wrapped tightly around his shoulders until he winced from the slight pain on one of his shoulders. He felt the bruise that Ronnie Anne gave him a few days before. Among with other things.


It was in the school's cafeteria. In the corner of the cafeteria, there was a hallway that led to the playground. Before heading for the playground, the hallway had a row of trashcans to discard any unneeded items. It was that very blind spot where Ronnie Anne snaked up next to him. It was the very blind spot that Ronnie Anne gave Lincoln an example on how trash was going to be handled.

Ronnie Anne struck Lincoln in the arm with her right hook. Focused on registering what had happened, he did not expect her to return with another blow to his stomach with her right hook. He began choking, trying to grasp his stomach while seeking for oxygen. She concluded by slapping him in the face and pushing him in front of the trash can.

Before he could speak, Ronnie Anne covered his mouth. The more he muffled, the harder her grip.

'Listen to me Loud as much as you can,' she demanded to him.

Concentrating on the pain, but did not want to receive another blow, he complied to her demands by shaking his head.

'Your sister put a lot of heartache on my brother,' she said. 'And I don't like that.' She gripped tighter around his mouth. So much so that the nails were indenting next to his mouth.

Suddenly, Ronnie Anne peered over the trash can. She started to see another group of students heading into their direction. She removed her hand. 'Let's be lucky that I didn't embarrass you, Loud.' She stood up before wiping her hands on her jacket. 'We are not finished. Girls' restroom, second floor, after school. Be there or else I will embarrass you. Understood?'

He shook his head.

'Come alone,' she concluded.

She wrapped her fist and lightly tapped his chin. She pushed through the metal doors into the playground. Lincoln walked away to the playground a few moments after with a bruised shoulder, bruised stomach, stained clothes, and a bruised ego.

Later that day, when the final bell ring, he made his way to the second floor. Despite the instructions Ronnie Anne gave him, he did not come alone. Clyde was posted in the stairwell as the backup. With each having a walkie talkie in place, Clyde was there for insurance.

The second-floor girls' restroom was a hardly used restroom. The second floor of the school was reserved for the sixth graders. Many of the female sixth graders have hardly used the restroom unless they wanted to apply their makeup or cut class. It was there where Ronnie Anne was awaiting Lincoln's arrival.

He took a few breaths before entering the forbidden zone. He came in and there was Ronnie Anne. She positioned her arm on the edge of the window sill. She was staring at her nails. She was her usual demeanor. When closing the doors, her eyes looked into his direction.

'Hey, Ronnie Anne,' said Lincoln. Ronnie Anne walked passed Lincoln. He turned around as Ronnie Anne walked to the front of the restroom door. When she clicked the door to lock, Lincoln felt his stomach churning. She withdrew a smile.

He had walked into a trap.

Panicking, he ran into one of the stalls. Ronnie Anne had the upper hand, reaching for his hair as he entered. Both struggle as she was gaining control, but Lincoln remained unrelenting.

The sounds of moaning and groaning bridged the pair as Lincoln was backing up to get Ronnie Anne away from him. It wasn't until she used her foot to trip him to the toilet. His head went inside face first. She used all of her strength to jam his head into the toilet.

Lincoln braced himself as the toilet water entered his mouth and his nose. He was gasping while Ronnie Anne refused to let go. She thrusted head while he was flailing his arms. She grabbed his head while he was coughing. The toilet water absorbing his clothes.

'You look like something I'd shitted earlier after lunch,' she said before returning his head in the toilet. The sounds of gurgling were filling the stall. After a moment, she withdrew his head from the toilet.

'If you were that easier to toil with,' she said. 'I had wished your fucking cunt of a sister ended it with my brother sooner.' She returned his head to the toilet.

She continued doing this for a while. Each time, she had further insult to him and his sister.

Your sister is a fucking whore. She does not deserve my brother.

You and all of your family are such motherfuckers. Do you fuck your mother, Linc? Like how my brother got fucked by your puttanesca sister?

Can you understand me, pandejo? No, 'cause your mouth is full of shit water. It adds to you better, doesn't it?

You are just fair game.

Lincoln was crying. Torn between the insults of his sister and the constant swirly he was getting. Each time, Ronnie Anne was getting worse.

'Get this through your head, Loud,' she said. 'Your sister is a freak of nature. A harlot. A whore. She doesn't deserve nothing more than to be scum of the earth. Even roaches like you are higher than her.'

Ronnie Anne heard mumbling from Lincoln. Unable to understand, she picked his head up from the toilet. 'What did you say,' she giggled. 'I couldn't hear you over the sound of shit in the water.'

'Is that the best you can do,' he responded. 'Picking on me and talking shit about my sister?'

'Yep,' she simply said.

'If you were big and tough, then come get my sister,' he said.

'Don't use that type of defense against me,' she protested. 'I am not the one of who likes fucking their own family members.'

'You are such a liar. My sister wouldn't do anything like that.'

'Are you sure?'

'Don't give me that type of nonsense. You are just upset that your brother got dumped. What's the matter? He couldn't perform?'

Angered by his comment, she bashed his forehead against the edge of the toilet before jamming it further inside.

'Take that back, you bitch,' she screamed.

Throughout the time as she continued with her control of Lincoln, she still insulted Lori about breaking up with Bobby because she was having feelings for her brother.

Brother fucker.

Brother fucker.

Brother fucker.

Your sister is a brother fucker.

I hope your sister burns in hell along with you.

Ronnie Anne continued until she heard the sound of the restroom door unlocking. Suddenly, Clyde came in and entered the stall. With all of his might, he pulled Ronnie Anne off of Lincoln. Clyde tightened his grip around Ronnie Anne's waist. She began kicking and screaming while Lincoln was trying to get up from the toilet.

'Let me go, you bastard,' she screamed.

'Not until you calm down,' Clyde responded.

'This has nothing to do with you,' she protested.

'If it is with Lincoln, then it does have something to do with me,' he responded.

Ronnie Anne started to calm down, but Clyde refused to let her go. Lincoln walked out of the stall. He appeared dazed, but he knew he was going to be okay, physically.

'When I let you go, you are going to get the hell out of here,' Clyde told Ronnie Anne.

'And if I say no,' questioned Ronnie Anne.

Clyde pulled out a tape recorder. 'I knew if Linc was going to have trouble,' he said. 'There was always room for backup.'

She wiped her saliva with her sleeve before calming down. Feeling defeated, she complied with his demand. Clyde released her, but not before shrugging off and elbowing him on his chest. She walked to one of the stalls and hit it with her fist.

'Fuck,' she screamed.

She began making her way toward the door. As she put her hand on the door, Lincoln called to her.

'Before you leave,' he said. 'I need you to take back what you had said about my sister.'

She narrowed her eyes at him. 'No.'

'Take it back!'

'I won't.'

'Take it back,' he screamed.

'I am not taking back what I said,' she said. 'Your sister is a brother fucker.'

'Bullshit,' he screamed.

'What's the matter, Linc,' questioned Ronnie Anne with a taunting tone. 'Scared that your sister has the hots for you.' She began smirking. 'As much you are protesting, you have a taste for Lori as well.'

Lincoln began walking toward her direction before Clyde stopped him. 'Don't listen to her. Remember, this is Ronnie Anne we are dealing with.'

'Bullshit,' screamed Lincoln.

'Brother fucker, brother sucker. Lori is a brother fucker,' replied Ronnie Anne melodically.

'That is not true and you know it,' he protested.

'Prove it,' she said. 'Prove me wrong, Lincoln Loud. Prove me wrong that your sister is not a brother fucker.'

Hearing the term brother fucker coming from her slothful lips was creating more tension for him. As much he wanted to return the favor on what she had did earlier, he knew that his sisters wouldn't have approved.

Fighting girls is not the answer. Show me a man that resorts to violence. And I will show you man that runs out of good ideas.

Those words came from Lori herself.

'A challenge,' said Lincoln.

'A challenge,' questioned Ronnie Anne.

'Yeah,' he said. 'To prove that Lori is not you think she is.'

Ronnie Anne put her finger to her lips. She hummed a little before returning his thought. 'I need to think about. I will call you later.'

She left the restroom, leaving the duo to themselves. 'Let's get out of here before we get in trouble,' said Clyde.

Afterward, Clyde was in the boys' restroom with Lincoln treating him to his wounds. 'Are you okay,' questioned Clyde. Clyde was applying medicine to his forehead where a cut was present. 'Ouch,' winced Lincoln.

'My fault,' answered Clyde.

He had looked down to the floor, rubbing his stomach and using his other hand to his shoulder. 'Better you than me, Clyde. Better you than me.'

'What made Ronnie Anne act like this,' questioned Clyde.

'Fucking Lori and Bobby,' responded Lincoln. 'They are having some problems.'

'Shit,' responded Clyde. 'No wonder she has been this harsh.' Clyde put the first aid up before inspecting Lincoln. 'You seem decent for now. I doubt your parents would recognize it.'

'Good, thanks,' replied Lincoln. 'I don't need them to further know about my problems. Especially them.'

'Understandable,' concurred Clyde. 'Some things parents are incapable of solving.'

'If they did, it would make matters worse,' responded Lincoln with a slight chuckle.

'About Ronnie,' asked Clyde.

'What about her,' answered Lincoln.

'What she said about Lori was true,' questioned Clyde.

'Are you really going to take up with someone who thinks punching pandejos like me as an answer to her problems,' questioned Lincoln with signs of frustration from his voice.

'Sorry,' replied Clyde.

Lincoln walked to the mirror to inspect his injuries. 'She didn't do too bad. Normally, the gashes would spread further into the skin.'

Clyde sort of laughed at Lincoln's backhanded comment.

'Let's play it cool for a bit as I get time to think,' said Lincoln. 'Right now, Ace Savvy wants to call it the day.'

'One-Eyed Jack couldn't agree more,' replied Clyde.

As they were leaving the school, Lincoln received a text. He reached into his pocket and saw it was a message from Ronnie Anne. He had read the message.

'Clyde, what is Umi no Misaki?'


The night air whispered around Lincoln, dead black. He swallowed nothing more than the chilly air. He noticed that the sound of the water was picking up speed. He should have panicked, but he couldn't. Better yet, he wouldn't. And watching how Ronnie Anne and Lori were arguing over him, it was very surprising.

"You can't even see the water from here," he said to himself.

The wind began picking up, but the chill became warm. He started to feel calm. It was very pleasant. The scented magnolia from behind him entered his nostrils. It gave him a feeling of nostalgia. It reminded him of the time when he was four years old.

Lincoln was playing soccer with his older sisters in the park. When the girls were getting ice cream from a vendor, Lincoln was left alone. Suddenly, a dog came and took his soccer ball. As he was running to get the ball, he tripped and fell into a brush. The fall made him cry. He cried and that caught the attention of Lori. Lori came to his rescue while the other sisters were looking for the soccer ball. Lincoln continued crying until Lori gave him her ice cream and he stopped crying. Lori stayed with him while treating his wounds. He remembered her holding his hand very tightly. It reminded him of a parent protecting their child.

Although it was a few years ago and Lori was 10, but he had never forgotten that moment.

Lori is okay, he thought to himself.

He wasn't scared anymore. He walked toward the edge. He looked over it. If I do see the girl. If I do, what would she do to me?

His heart was beating loudly as he whispered a prayer to the heavens. Instead of looking down, he looked up to the sky.

The stars are really pretty tonight. If I don't make it, will I dream?

"One, two...three," he said. Keeping his focus on the sky, he jumped off the edge and into the night.

Chapter Text

He had a missed call.

He looked at his cell phone like a deer seeing headlights. His hands were trembling to the touch. It wasn't the phone itself, but the person on the other end he was more afraid. He knew if he were to call back, then it meant that he had displayed something there.

It was something that he was not ready to receive. Actually, it was something that he did not want to accept.

He stepped out of the bathroom where he was sitting idly on the toilet. It had been over a moment ago when he was tending to his business. It was there where he had received the phone call. He was frozen in time. The ringtone contained a distinctive sound for his familiar. What should have been a casual ringer turned into a ringer of caution. Hearing the tone was frightening, leaving him stiff. He remained there until the phone went off.

A voicemail was left in its wake.

"Linc," cried out one of his sisters. When he approached the hallway, the voice came from his older sister, Luna. "Hey, Linc, did you hear me calling you?"

He shifted his eyes in her direction. "Oh, oh yeah," he stammered. "What's up, sis?"

"I wanted to know if you wanted to come with me to my friend's house and watch me jam," said Luna.

"That's not like you to ask me something like that," replied Lincoln. "What reason for today?"

"Well," she said while rubbing the back of her head. "I have told my lead player that you were great with lyrics. So, I thought you don't mind lending your services."

He was taken aback but remained calm. "What did he offered?"

"He had offered me some extra studio time for your services."

"And what can you offer," he said with a tone of demand.

"Well," she said with a slight smile. "For compensation, I can help you with your homework."

He shook his head in disagreement. "With your sloppy handwriting and subpar grades, no thanks." He added, "No offense."

She put her hands on her brother. "None was taken," she said. "How about tickets to the next SMOOCH concert."

"Throw me that and along with two complimentary meals at Burpin' Burger, then we have a deal."

She furrowed her eyes. "What? Dinner and a concert? Really?"

Keeping his composure, he responded. "Well, I guess that you don't need that lyricist. Tell your lead on good luck on his upcoming mixtape."

He was walking away until she grabbed his arm. "Okay, okay, you win. Two free dinners and concert tickets."

"Three."

"It was two."

"Demands and negotiations fluctuate like the stock market. Take it or leave it."

She grunted, "Fine, I'll take it."

He shook his head. "Nicely done." He scratched his head before adding to the conversation. "When do you need me to come with you."

"Actually, right now will be nice."

"Last minutes as always," sighed Lincoln. "You know what, you do meet the requirements of being a musician, especially when making last minute plans."

"I will make it up to you when I become successful," replied Luna while laughing.

"If you knew what kinda problems I am having, I wish you make it rich today," said Lincoln.

Fortunately, Luna was halfway down the stairs to not hear his comment. While they were engaged in conversation, Lincoln had another missed call.

About thirty minutes later, Lincoln waited for Luna on the front porch. He was sitting on the swing while resting his legs. He was focusing on the scenery of his neighborhood. Quiet and quaint at the moment. For at least that was right in front of him. Within, a thunderstorm was brewing and it was consuming him with grief.

He gnashed his teeth any time the thought of the phone call came up. He gripped harder on the pine swing, so much so he feared that he would splinter himself. He took a few breaths, trying something to calm him down. However, the person who was calling him was not going to allow that to happen.

I should have been more careful.

I should have played it safe.

It was one time. One time, for God's sake. Didn't know it would lead to this.

I am sorry that it happened. Trust me, I really am.

I can't tell them, my parents. They would kill me. What would they think of me? Oh, my God, I am a dunce.

Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot.

He was hitting his head in frustration. His ears were ringing, giving him a slight headache. He tilted his head to ease his headache, but he felt something else in his pocket. It was a phone call, but it was a message. He didn't want to look. He refused to look.

I should've been careful. I should have played it safe.

"Lincoln," cried Luna as she stepped out to the front porch. Behind her, she was holding her guitar. She then displayed a worried look on her face. "Are you okay, bro?"

"Yeah, I am fine," he explained. "What's to worry?"

"I would say the same, but your hands. They are red," she said.

Lincoln then noticed that his hands were really red. He saw that one of his hands were deeply indented from his nails. One of the nails actually broke the skin. "Are you sure you are okay," questioned Luna.

He shook in his agreement.

"Okay, then let's go," said Luna as she had the car keys in her hand.

"We are not taking our bikes," questioned Lincoln as he walked to the driveway with her.

"Mom and Dad aren't going anywhere today," replied Luna. "So, we can use the car. As long we fill it up before we come back."

Luna got into the car and opened the door for Lincoln. They stepped inside while they were putting on their seat belt. "Oh yeah," she added. "You are filling up the tank when we come back."

"Why do I have to," questioned Lincoln while raising his eyebrows. "I am writing for the man."

"Demands and negotiations fluctuate like the stock market," said Luna in a teasing voice.

He hit his head back. "Fine, let's just go."

Luna put the car in reverse. She backed the car into the street before shifting the gears into drive. A very cautious driver, she took the necessary procedures before heading out to the road. Once she got comfortable, she turned on the radio to her favorite rock station.

Lincoln and Luna listened as the DJ was preparing for the next song. Here is number four of our countdown. This song was a well-known song that went to the top of the charts. Featured in shows such as Family Guy and Orange is the New Black, this is the hit song from the Plain White T's. Here is "Hey There Delilah."

"This isn't my favorite cup of tea, but very mellow," said Luna as she tapping the steering wheel. Meanwhile, Lincoln began panting. His breath was becoming labored. Each string, each chord, each breath the musician gave reminded Lincoln the reason why he was avoiding a certain someone.

He began nervously tapping the window. He was tapping his foot very loudly. He was trying to think of something of not having to deal with his song. He tried to reach for his headphones but groaned that he had left them at home. He continued gnashing his teeth as the song filled the car.

I don't think I am ready.

Neither do I. But, why wait. You do love me.

I do, I do. But, this is too soon.

Nothing is greater than the moment to share this. This is between us and us alone.

I am scared. What if, what if pregnancy occurs.

We can play it safe. Trust me. Pull out before climaxing, okay.

I don't know how it works.

Trust me, okay. We will be alright.

When the musician sang, Oh, it's what you do to me, that Lincoln could no longer handle it. He grabbed the knob and changed it to another station.

"Hey, I was listening to it," cried Luna.

"This song is too old and too mellow for me," replied Lincoln. "How did this song get popular anyway?"

Luna scoffed but didn't further the conversation. She continued focusing on her driving.

Throughout that time, Lincoln had another missed call.

Luna continued driving until she turned into a neighborhood street. She began slowing down as if she was looking for the right place. Lincoln raised his eyes when seeing the familiarity of this particular neighborhood.

"I didn't know he lived on this side of town," said Lincoln.

"Yeah," she said. "He does."

Lincoln noticed how her tone of her response was different from before. It sounded very suspicious. Lincoln tried to not worry himself, but his instinct was putting him on high alert.

Something is not right, he thought to himself.

Luna began slowing down until she pulled along the curve. In front of Lincoln was a home that had a single car driveway. The home was surrounded by bushes. The home was small and tranquil. He began panicking when realizing how familiar was the house.

"Luna, what's going on," he asked her with a worrisome voice.

He noticed that she was taking a breath. "Sorry, Linc," she responded. "I really am."

"What do you mean 'sorry,'" he asked as he was stammering.

"She knew if you wouldn't come willingly, she might need someone else," she said.

"You set me up," questioned Lincoln.

Suddenly, he saw the person he tried to avoid. The person who he ignored her phone calls and text messages. That person was Ronnie Anne.

Ronnie Anne didn't appear upset. In fact, she displayed a sense of calmness. She walked from the stoop and headed into his direction. Lincoln was stammering, becoming flustered.

"Lincoln, we need to talk," said Ronnie Anne.

Lincoln saw how serious she looked from the car. In her hand was the cell phone. Shivers ran down his spine. He turned to Luna. "How could you," questioned Lincoln.

"Sorry, Linc," she responded. "She told me that she had something important to tell you. The way she was crying to me on the phone, it had to be important. Whatever it is, you need to talk to her."

"The hell I can," he screamed.

Lincoln unlocked the door from the car and ran out into the street. He started picking up the pace to get away from them as far as he could. Suddenly, he heard his name screaming from behind him.

"Lincoln," screamed Ronnie Anne. "Lincoln, Lincoln, Lincoln."

Hearing the frantic sounds of his name gave him shivers down his spine. Despite her cries, he did not want to hear them. He didn't want to hear anything at all.

He made his way to another block, but she was gaining ground. "Lincoln, Lincoln, come back here," cried Ronnie Anne.

Lincoln jumped a fence before going through a neighbor's backyard. He jumped a few more fences before leaving the neighborhood. He was back on the main street. He continued running, knowing that he was hearing the now fainted sounds of his name in the wind.

He had managed to gain the upper hand. He was safe for now.

Lincoln looked over his shoulder to make sure that no one was following him. He was out of breath and was in dire need of thirst. He was fortunate that there was a gas station a few yards from where he was standing.

As he was approaching the gas station, from his peripheral he saw Luna in the car aiming toward his direction. However, she wasn't alone. Ronnie Anne was with her. Preparing for another chase, he was leaving the parking lot until the car cut him off.

He tried turning around, but Ronnie Anne grabbed him. He was tangling with her, trying to get off of her, but she wrapped him around his waist.

"Let go of me," screamed Lincoln.

"No," cried Ronnie Anne.

"Let go of me," screamed Lincoln.

"I won't," screamed Ronnie Anne.

"Let go."

"No."

"Let go."

"No."

The pair tangled until Luna came between the pair and stopped. "Whoa, calm down. Calm down, you two."

"Not until he accepts the fact that what's done is done," cried Ronnie Anne.

"No," screamed Lincoln. "I won't. I won't."

"What are you talking about," questioned Luna as she stared at the teenaged pair.

"You have to accept it, Linc," Ronnie Anne screamed at Lincoln. "We are deep into this. You can't avoid my calls. You can't avoid my messages. No matter what, it won't make it better."

Lincoln tried to walk, but Ronnie Anne grabbed his hand. By that time, tears began falling.

"Let me go," cried Lincoln.

"No," said Ronnie Anne. "Accept it."

"Accept what," questioned Luna.

Lincoln began kneeling to the ground. He was covering his ears. He watched as Ronnie Anne was talking to Luna. What she said to Luna made her eyes widened and began staring at him.

"No, no, no," cried Lincoln.

He watched how Ronnie Anne mouthed the words that would forever change the paradigm of their relationship.

I'm pregnant.

Chapter Text

It was in art class where Lincoln can be found. Sitting at the far back corner, next to the door, he sat there quietly on the backless stool staring at his canvas. There was nothing on it, but he was observing. It was as if he was waiting for a response, for any change, something. His eyes gleamed as the canvas remained in its flatness. He used his hands to touch it. It felt smooth in some areas, rough in some. In return, he placed his hand on his lips. Smooth in some areas, rough in some. However, he concluded that the roughness came from not taking care of his lips. He had made a mental note to apply ChapStick on it later. His lips were lined like a map. However, it did not offer direction. He continued trailing it, seeing if there was any difference.

Any difference, anything he thought. Anything that displayed change from him. Anything, a hint, something to notice a change. At least a hint of hair, a growth spurt, or a change in his voice, he thought to himself. He softly brushed his cheek. He thought that maybe it was a change for that. He touched his cheeks but did not feel any difference. Nothing was the same. Not his lips. Not his face. They didn't compare to the softness of a woman's palm or the softness of a woman's lips. Of course, it wasn't, he concluded. Nothing could compare to what Lynn did to him on that night as they lied on the blanket. The stars, the fireworks, even God were there to witness Lynn stealing his lips.

He didn't sleep that night. The entire night was focused on the scene alone, replaying the exact moments of their kiss. The smell of fresh-cut grass, the sound of crickets, the softness of her lips touching his, everything. It got to the point where he didn't know which part was accurate or exaggerated. Be as it may, the kiss happened.

His lips were tender, still yearning for the softness of another. He shook his head to realize that this wasn't any girl who gave him this. This was his sister. The roughneck, tomboyish sister who perform playing in the mud over playing with dolls. Playing football with the boys instead of being on the sidelines. A girl who has borrow underwear from Lincoln when they were off.

Before heading off to their rooms, Lynn asked her brother a question.

Have you ever thought of me as a boy?

Still dazed from the kiss, Lincoln shook his head in disagreement.

I think it is easier sometimes. But, it gets scary. It gets scary becomes I often wish to be a boy. It would make life easier. But, those feelings I have for boys. Isn't that odd?

Lincoln shook his head in disagreement once again.

Lynn silently said goodnight before going into her room. Those statements gave Lincoln some thought, but was too tired to ready elaborate on them.

The next day as he got ready for school, it was business as usual at the Loud House. Everybody was gathering downstairs for breakfast. Eggs and bacon were on the menu for the day. Lincoln skipped breakfast. He did not alert anyone that he was headed for school. His body was tensed, his mind was wrapped. He just did not have the guile to sit across the table with the same person who was supposed to be his sister.

That was not an ordinary kiss between siblings. That was a kiss of a lover.

Later, Clyde and Lincoln were sitting in the cafeteria. They were situated along the far corner near the doors. Their reason was that whenever they were excused for recess, then they were the first to leave.

Normally, he enjoyed the crust from his sandwich. However, the crust was too hard. He thought that maybe his mother had left it too long. He took a huge bite of his favorite grilled cheese with jelly on top. An odd combination he admitted to himself, but it was a ploy from childhood for him to eat his meals. Alongside with his peculiar taste for peanut butter and sauerkraut sandwiches, he was an atypical kid.

"You have been picking off the crust a little too much," said Clyde while taking a sip of his milk.

"Just something about it that is not appealing today," said Lincoln. "Maybe the crust is too hard or something."

"Let me see," replied Clyde. He took his crust from him and observed it. "It looks the same to me. Even as I am touching it, it feels like its normal self."

Lincoln slightly chuckled. "Funny how you gave bread emotions."

"Bread has feelings too," replied Clyde. "Even the way they are treated in the field can tell the taste."

"Then this wheat must have been abused," concluded Lincoln. Feeling lightheaded, he no longer desire to have his sandwich. He had pushed it aside to drink a bottle of water.

"Whoa," replied Clyde. "You have never turned down your mom's world famous lunch before." He inspected Lincoln. "Is something the matter."

Lincoln looked around before returning back to Clyde. "Nothing out of the ordinary."

The pair fell silent. Clyde told Lincoln that he was going to discard their lunches for them. He nodded his head in agreement. He sat quietly at the table while Clyde was throwing away his food. When Clyde returned, the pair decided to leave for the playground.

They hit the metal doors and were approaching the track to the playground.

"Do you feel like walking the track," asked Lincoln.

"Sure, why not," responded Clyde.

As the pair were approaching the track, they were interrupted by the sound of a person calling them.

"Clyde, Lincoln," responded the woman in a Latin accent.

When both turned around, they saw that it was their substitute teacher, Ms. DiMartino. Ms. DiMartino was substituting for their P.E. class. She was wearing the traditional gym uniform. Gym wasn't for a few hours, but many boys were anticipating their time in P.E.

"Hello, boys," said Ms. DiMartino excitedly as she approached the pair.

"Hi, Ms. DiMartino," said Clyde was blushing.

Lincoln was preparing to respond until he saw something that caught his eye. He saw the high school girls' gym class passing through the street. In the crowd, he saw Lynn running. It was like he was frozen in time. She was sweating. Her hair was in a mess. She was running with all of her might. From time to time, her shirt would shift, which show her stomach. With each breath, she took, he was being taken away.

"Lincoln, Lincoln," replied Ms. DiMartino, getting his attention. He stared at her before for a moment.

"Hey," murmured Lincoln before looking down.

"What are you boys up to on this fine day," questioned Ms. DiMartino with her hands wrapped around her waist.

"You know, just working out our lunch with a light jog," said Clyde with a hint of pride in his voice.

Lincoln remained quiet, just continuing to stare at the ground.

"Look at you guys defeating the chance of obesity," said Ms. DiMartino. "Right, Lincoln?"

He looked at her slightly while rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, you are right about that."

Ms. DiMartino displayed a perky smile. "Alright, boys. I am planning activities for P.E. today. So, I see you then."

She gave them a farewell wave before walking back towards the group of fourth-graders who were having their class.

"Ms. DiMartino is the senorita I would like to marry," said Clyde while blushing.

Lincoln remained silent.

"Dude, is everything okay," asked Clyde.

He looked at Clyde. "Yeah, I am good."

"Are you sure? Before you were…"

"Let's just go," said Lincoln while kicking his feet.

No longer wanting to go further, Clyde walked with Lincoln along the track until they were called in to return to class.

Lincoln was lying his head on his desk. He still couldn't get the image of his sister from his head. He was still picturing her in her sweaty form. She looked tough. She looked manly. It sort of put his mind in confusion.

Have you ever thought of me as a boy?

I think it is easier sometimes. But, it gets scary. It gets scary becomes I often wish to be a boy. It would make life easier. But, those feelings I have for boys. Isn't that odd?

For a moment, an image flickered in his mind. Lynn wearing a suit, appearing masculine and dominant. Lincoln wearing a dress, appearing feminine and submissive. Lynn having her body, surrounding herself around Lincoln. Lincoln escaping in the pleasure of being pleasure by Lynn. Lynn holding on to Lincoln tightly, enveloping and intertwining their hands together.

Lincoln had a lump when thinking of himself as a female and his sister as a male. Suddenly, an erection came from nowhere. Lincoln started panting loudly, alerting his teacher. He told her that he was wasn't feeling well. She allowed him to go to the nurse's office.

Throughout the time as he was lying on the bed, the thought of Lynn being a male dominating his female form. He closed his eyes, but the more he thought about it, the more it was scaring him and alluring him.

At the end of the day, Lincoln returned back to his classroom to gather his things. He was thankful that he waited until the day's end when all of the students were gone. He grabbed his things along with the assignments that he missed. Clyde came by earlier at the nurse's office. He just told him that he was going to go home alone and to not wait up. Clyde didn't further ask any questions. Lincoln was glad to have an understanding friend.

He stood at his locker, wiping the sweat from his forehead before feeling another presence behind him. He winced at his shiner, knowing that too was sensing another force. When he closed the locker, he flinched when seeing sights of Ronnie Anne.

He was startled, looking at another chance to escape.

"Wait," she said.

Fearing of receiving another shiner, Lincoln ran away from her. He ran with all of his might through the hallway before leaving the school. He continued running until he felt he had another distance from her. He bent over as he was panting loudly.

I have already too much on my mind. I have to deal with that another day.

He arrived home. Fortunately, no one was home. He made his way upstairs to the bathroom. He turned on the sink and wash his face. The cold water was soothing him. He continued washing his face until he was tired of it. He turned off the faucet and looked at himself in the mirror.

Atypical, he thought to himself.

Atypical was his choice for word. It had meant the opposite of being typical.

In his mind, being typical meant being part of a crowd. Being conformed to something that everybody is doing. He didn't want to eat the same food, listen to same music. He liked wearing his Chuck Taylors instead of riding the wave of a finite fad. He enjoyed listening to SMOOCH than to any top 40 one-hit wonder song. So his style of clothing reminded others of the simpler times of the fifties and the sixties. His philosophy was whatever it is in the shop, he is game for it. Clyde called him a trendsetter once. He told that it was not his absence of taste, but instead the opposite of taste.

Have you ever thought of me as a boy?

I think it is easier sometimes. But, it gets scary. It gets scary becomes I often wish to be a boy. It would make life easier. But, those feelings I have for boys. Isn't that odd?

Lincoln started to feel his erection protruding from his pants. His penis brushing against it was making his breath shallow. Her words were the trigger to the lustrous thoughts.

"What if I am attractive to Lynn if she was like a boy," he questioned. Lincoln knew he wasn't gay, but the idea of gender roles didn't vacate his mind. He wasn't into the girly girl types. He has always been attractive to masculine women. Something about a dominant woman was appealing to him. The idea of being a submissive boy was a better role suited for him.

"What if being a female is a better position for me," he said.

Still lingering on those thoughts, he pressed his body against the sink, imagining the thoughts of Lynn or any dominant girl taking advantage of him.

He continued humping the sink, moaning as he grabbed his butt as if Lynn was doing it.

"No," he said aloud. "I am not ready yet."

He imagined Lynn rubbing herself against him, thrusting and grabbing his dick.

"You are going to make me cum," he moaned loudly.

He closed his eyes as he continued to think that Lynn was dominating him.

"Make me your bitch," he said. "Make me your bitch. I want you to be my daddy."

Where is this coming from, he thought to himself. However, his body was clouding his judgement as he continued thrusting against the skin faster.

"I am coming, Lynn," he moaned. "I am coming."

He continued until he came. He moaned quietly as he climaxed in his pants."

"Make me dirty, Lynn," he moaned quietly. "Make me your girl."

Suddenly, reality returned to him. "What in the hell am I doing," he said. He quickly left the bathroom and returned to him room. It wasn't long when his mother came home with the younger siblings.

"Lincoln, I am home," said his mother.

"Hey, mom," responded Lincoln aloud from upstairs.

"We ordered take out tonight. Wash up, okay," said his mother.

"Gotcha," responded Lincoln.

Lincoln closed the door to his bedroom where he changed out of his boxers and got himself a change of pants. It felt strange of what he did in the bathroom. It was wrong, it wasn't right. But, but, I am still not satisfied.

Chapter Text

My fellow readers, do you think you still have the chance to turn away from this? It isn't too late to walk away with what is left of your dignity. I wouldn't judge you. I wouldn't criticize you in any way. For we all shared the commonality of the pain, the sorrow, the deceit, the anguish, the shame, and the detritus of this hated wretch I refer to myself. You have been witnesses so far to what is to come. I have pleaded to the almighty God for the salvation of your souls to turn away. If you dare cross this trek, I am afraid that you will not return.

Last chance.

Unless you want to see what happens next. Maybe the curiosity is beyond your reasoning. Maybe we shared the same cloth that bathes in our woes and our agony. Maybe you were just like me. Maybe we have shared the same qualities. Or, or, maybe you are just a misfit youth with no place to go. And the forbidden, darkening forces called you to this sanctuary of torment.

Time is up!

If so, then I guess you should continue with me. For we are walking the path in which Judas, Cain, and many others have walked through the turmoil of our inevitable demise.

Walk the line in the sinking sand. Abandoned what salvation you have and lie in blood with us. We ask you to lie your life with us. Taste the blood and see what it is to be a formidable wretch. After a while, your pain will wither. For there will be nothing of you to grimace or to feel.

Stress keeps building.

My shoes were heavy with each step as I waved my hand to Lindsey and Rocky to follow me to their fate. Excuse me, our fate. I may not be the victim, but I am serving as the active judge in their execution. Their executioner lie waiting in darkness, camouflaged demons who were taking the appearance of humans.

The Clyde McBride, the Rusty Spokes, and the Ronnie Anne Santiago I knew and loved died the very day when the "plan of action" took effect. What made us made a decision to take a life? Who were we as ones to decide whether a person lives or die? Have we relinquished our faith? Have we denounced the sacred commandment that was created by Moses?

We did not give them life, but we are surely responsible for taking it away. Their footsteps were reminding me every time that they only follow suit. Why were they together? What plans did they have after this? Were they in a relationship? Were they friends? Why was I asking myself these questions?

Are you probably thinking why waste your time on reasonings that don't relate to the current situation? They were kids. Just like myself. What battles did they have to fight? What reasons should be chosen for hatred?

I sucked as much as air as possible to calm down my frozen, darkened heart. I continued making my pace to the rec center. We have barely spoken. It was very quiet. There was some murmuring between the two. They giggled every now and again.

They were kids. Just kids.

The lone streetlamp was barely lit as we made the corner to the derelict building. It flickered furiously. At each flicker, I saw the swimming pool. At another flicker, I saw the bushes surrounding the swimming pool. At another flicker, I saw the hidden figures waiting on my cue to execute their plan of action.

Suddenly, my mind flickered on Rocky. Maybe it was not too late. I hope to God that through the bushes Rocky could see his younger brother. I hope he was thinking the same thing I was thinking. My brother is with her. Oh shit, we have to stop this. We have to call it quits. You said that it was going to be one of them, not two of them. That is my brother, my blood. I can't let you hurt him.

None of that happened. Not a sound, not a movement of a twig. They all lie in wait for my cue.

Stress keeps building.

"This place is giving me the creeps, Loud," said Lindsey. When I turned to face her, she had her hands wrapped around Rocky. On the contrary, Rocky was very calm and very collective. I remembered that Rusty was unfazed with moments of despair, or something like that.

"It's okay, Lind," replied Rocky. "I got you. So there is nothing to worry about."

"Thanks, Rocky," said Lindsey with a sigh of relief. "I knew it was the right choice to bring you over."

I could see why Lucy liked him so much. It was a shame that Lucy would never share another opportunity to engage their talks of darkness with each other.

"So how do you two know each other," I asked as a way to borrow time.

"Not important right now," replied Lindsey. "Just show me the merchandise so I can get out of here."

Rocky nudged her. "Relax," he said. "My cousin is a beauty queen as well. She goes to the shows like your sister and Lindsey." He scratched the back of his head. "It was there where I met Lindsey."

"Interesting," I said to them.

"Lindsey saw how much interest I had in those kinds of shows. We struck up a conversation and we have been cool since," responded Rusty.

Even in the poor shade of light, you could see how much Lindsey was blushing toward Rocky. At that moment in time, she looked to him as a knight in shining armor.

And I looked to myself a poor fool. My insides burned with the urge to scream. "It's a trap! It's a trap! We are setting you up! Run for your lives while you still can."

However, none of that occurred. No at nudged to press them away. Not a sound or a hint of a warning. Nothing, but a coward.

A coward, a coward, a coward, a coward, a coward, a coward.

"Lindsey told me that she needed help with some stuff, I came over," replied Rocky. "Plus, I thought it was awkward for her to come alone. So, I was like, no problem, I can help."

"Aren't you a prince," I responded.

I walked a few yards until I almost tripped on the item that was going to cause their demise. The green SMOOCH backpack sat in the center of the path. It was as if Ronnie Anne was making sure that I was going to get it. If they were smart, they would have put it somewhere….

"Is that where Lola has her plans," asked Lindsey with a flat tone. She walked toward the backpack and observed it. "Kind of tacky if you asked me."

I was trembling with fear. My heart was fluttering. My demons were beginning their slow-claps. The moment was nigh. It was stirring. It was stirring. It. Was. Stirring.

"So everything I need is in this backpack," questioned Lindsey. She kneeled around it. She pressed on both sides of the backpack. "Doesn't feel that heavy to me."

I became flustered. "Only in certain angles that it can feel that way."

Lindsey sighed. "Kind of weak, Loud, if you ask me." Then she saw something that caught her attention. On the zipper of the backpack was a green ribbon. It was wrapped delicately around it. "Pretty," she said in awe. "That could go well with my new outfit that my mother got me from Milan."

I chuckled. "Yeah, you know what's best."

"Like you know she retorted," she said. "So, that package is inside?"

One.

"Yes, it is."

Two.

"What is it?"

Three.

"You won't know until you find out."

Four

"Are you playing with me, Loud?"

Five.

"No, what makes you say that?"

Six.

"Normally, you are off-centered. But, now you are way off. Your demeanor, how you are speaking. Everything."

Seven

"No, no. Just not feeling good is all. You have nothing to worry about, Lindsey."

Eight

"Alright, let's find out what good old Lola has in store for our competition."

Nine

"Forgive me, father God. Forgive me, father God."

Ten.

I shield myself and covered my eyes. I didn't want to hear or see the anguish cries of a child being electrocuted. However, nothing happened. I closed my eyes and saw Lindsey giving me an odd look.

"Are you okay, Loud," she questioned me while raising her eyebrows.

The backpack, she should have been shocked. She didn't get shocked. She didn't get shocked! Oh my Lord, thank you. I was relieved to know that that the backpack didn't go...

"Augh," cried a voice.

Rocky had his hands on the backpack while trembling. He saw him shaking in agony as he was being electrocuted. It wasn't long until he dropped to the ground.

"Oh my God," cried Lindsey. She watched as Rocky lied on the ground. He was lying on his back, but he wasn't moving.

"Rocky," she screamed. "Rocky! Rocky!"

She turned to me as she was wailing in tears. "Help me, Lincoln! Help me! Help him!"

I sat there as I watched Rocky making shallow breaths. His breathing was slowing down. It kept getting slower and slower and slower and slower.

Then, he wasn't breathing at all.

Lindsey continued pushing Rocky. "Get up, Rocky! What's the matter?"

Rocky wasn't moving. The more she pushed, the stiffer he was becoming.

"Rocky, Rocky," she screamed.

She then turned to me. "Do something, Lincoln."

I stared. I didn't know what to do. I am staring in shock as I watched a person's life getting taken away over what we have set up. Instead of being Lindsey, it had ended up being Rocky.

"Lincoln, do something," she continued screaming at me. "Do something. Do something."

Do something.

Do something.

Do something.

I did, Lindsey. I did do something. I have made the phone call to you. I invited you to come here. I was the one to set you up. You were supposed to be the one that is shocked. You were the one that was supposed to be the victim. Rocky wasn't in the plans. You were. You were. You were.

"Do something," she screamed as her voice was becoming more hoarse.

"I am sorry," I said. "I am sorry."

I was backing away. I was trying to leave. My first instinct was to head for the exit. But, it wasn't until I saw three figures exiting the bushes and coming into our sight.

Stress keeps building.

Chapter Text

The first time Lynn ever kissed someone was in an arcade when she was in junior high school. She was playing Super Mario Smash Bros. when someone approached her. He was very timid. Very shy, if you will. He was hiding his eyes behind his bangs. From her position, it may her think that she was unapproachable. Nevertheless, she presented herself as friendly and invited the boy to join her. She couldn't remember how many rounds she and the boy played together, but it was one of the best games she had ever played. Not that she enjoyed playing with her family. Not that she enjoyed playing with her friends. It was because she was playing a boy. It was around that time where she started developing feelings for the opposite sex.

The boy was a year younger than her. He was homeschooled, but allowed to go out on the conditions that his grades were decent. Enjoying the boy's company, she proposed to him that they should hang out. The boy agreed, but only at the arcade.

Most Saturdays during that spring, Lynn was at the arcade. The boy was always standing outside waiting for her arrival. His glowing smile warmed her heart. Despite his timidity, he reminded her of her puppy who desires the love of his mother. Lynn envied the puppy's mother. They played almost every game at the arcade. They competed in various games. Even placed bets on each other. Even though she cared about the boy, she was competitive. No one was going to beat Lynn Loud, Jr.

It was the first day of summer when Lynn was given movie tickets from her parents. She decided to invite the boy. Instead of meeting the boy at their usual spot, she called him to see if he wanted to go to the movies. The boy displayed reluctance, but in the end, with much persuasion from Lynn, he accepted. That afternoon, he and Lynn went to the movies. As a joke, they wanted to watch a vintage movie. The Notebook was playing that day. Lynn remembered only being a handful of people there in that theater. She looked at the movie as a joke like she intended, but the boy displayed difference. She saw in his eyes a glow that she was never given. He was captivated by the film. He teared up at the end when the main characters were found dead together. He was deeply moved. Something that Lynn didn't understand. Lynn preferred the route of watching action and adventure and the occasional comedy. It made her pique further interest in the boy.

After the movie, they returned to the arcade. The boy insisted that they go so that they can play another round of Super Smash Bros. Lynn agreed. As they were playing, the boy quickly pecked Lynn on the cheek. He was blushing. He was beet red as he returned playing. In response, Lynn returned his kiss, but she did it on the lips. Lynn relished as she felt his soft lips touching her rough lips. She kept her eyes close. Although the kiss lasted a few seconds, but it was a millennium to her. Both were flustered when having their first kiss.

That kiss led to more kisses. At the arcade. In the photo booth of the arcade. In the movie theater. Even behind a church. The boy lived a few blocks from the church where his father served as a deacon. His mother was part of the leadership board in the church.

As they entered high school, they continued the ritual of meeting every Saturday at the arcade. The boy slowly began coming out of his shell. He touched her shoulders or rubbed her arms when they were together. They flirted with each other from time to time. They talked and texted on the phone whenever they had the chance. The boy had even eaten dinner with her family.

Lynn was enjoying his company, but something was becoming peculiar as their blossoming relationship grew. It started when she wanted to visit his parents. He stammered, explaining that his parents were too busy and were hardly at home. When he started going to the local high school, she wanted to hang out with his friends. He stated that he did not have any friends. That became concerning, but she caught him one afternoon at the mall with a group of girls as they shopped. Her stomach churned in jealousy because there were girls who were talking to her boy. She became worried that she may not be good enough for him. The final straw was when she wanted to define the relationship, he explained that he loved the slow, but steady relationship.

She didn't display it, but it made her depressed. She cared about him, but she felt that he was ashamed of showing her to his family and friends. She decided that she had enough to hear his excuses. She made an unexpected visit to his church the following Sunday.

She arrived at the church before they began services. She sat at the back of the pew so that he wouldn't be able to see her. At the front, she saw him along with his parents. From her position, they appeared like they were very decent people. The choir came and began singing their hymns. As they were singing, the preacher appeared. After singing a few hymns, the preacher began his sermon. The topic was on hidden sin.

She listened as the preacher was discussing sins that many people practiced today. Topics like perversion, violence, homosexuality, and the like. The preacher condemned those acts and labeled as a detriment from God. And if anyone were to participate in those acts were going to hell. It made Lynn's stomach churned. The color was draining from her face. She, too, was a believer in God. But, she felt that he was more merciful than that. The no-sin-is-greater-in-the-eyes-of-him type. She watched as the parishioners were given him an astounding roar, agreeing with him.

At the conclusion of the sermon, he made an altar call for those were entrapped in that kind of sin to come forward. Lynn watched the handful of people going to the altar. Her eyes became watery when she saw the boy approaching the altar as well. There were tears in his eyes. It showed frustration and shame. Why would he go up there? He is not that kind of person. He is too sweet to perform stuff like that. We have not even made it to second base.

She saw how the boy was crying on his knees, asking God for his forgiveness. The preacher took notice and asked the boy what was the matter. What he said next would change the direction of their relationship. He faced his parents teary-eyed. He was choking up but was managing to say what was on his mind. "I have been seeing a boy behind your back. I have engaged in sin with this boy. We have kissed and everything. I don't want to go to hell. I don't want to be perverted. Forgive me, God. Forgive me, Mom and Dad. I won't do it again. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

He thought I was a boy?

Lynn grasped her heart. She tucked in her lip because she did not want to display any tears.

That was why he was afraid? That was why he did not show me to others? Because he thought he was sharing his love with a boy?

Lynn didn't want to hear anymore. She silently walked away from the pew and left the church and left the boy's life. She had never heard from him again. She had never visited the arcade ever since.

The incident left a mark on Lynn as she went further into high school. It made her question her gender and her orientation, especially with the latter. Every other day, she received love notes from girls. She was well-known with the girls in her class. Many girls gave her passing glance. She had assumed that she was a friendly person to be around. She did not get the same attention from the boys. As must as she tried to garner the affection of her boy, she couldn't. As much she wanted a man's touch, it still didn't compare to the soft hands of her first crush. Thinking of that boy gave her slight warmth, but a chilling blow. Not too long ago, she wanted to know of his whereabouts. Last time he was heard from, he was sent to a camp in the Dominican Republic. He was very happy living a corrective lifestyle.

One afternoon after school, she was approached by a girl who was a senior. She was very attractive and well-known at school. She was also a closeted lesbian. It was outside of the library when the girl asked her out. She was very assertive, being affectionate around Lynn. Lynn politely turned her down. She explained to her that she wasn't into girls. The girl smiled as she continued to make a move on Lynn. The girl told Lynn that she knew Lynn was lying. She stated that "no masculine boy or butch is going to sit here and tell me that you like boys." Lynn tried to walk away but was grabbed by the girl. The girl became aggressive and tried to kiss her. In defense, Lynn slapped her in the face. Afterward, she ran away from the girl.

It wasn't until the next day when the girl spread rumors of Lynn coming on to her. She became a target of bullying. People wrote expletives on her desk. Her locker was vandalized. Girls in PE treated her like the flu. Get away from Lynn or you might catch her gay.

Lynn was heartbroken, but she did not have the courage to tell anyone. She didn't tell her family in fear that they might assume that she was a lesbian. The more it got to her, the more she was becoming convinced.

It wasn't until sometime later when her British Literature class was watching a film about a girl who was a king and a boy who served as the queen. Lynn watched in awe as the masculine girl was showing her dutiful love to the feminine boy. Lynn became aroused at the thought of the boy because he looked like the queen in the movie. Then for a moment, a flash of Lincoln hit her brain. She shivered at the thought. However, like a seed, the movie served as the water and the sun for her thoughts began to grow.

She and Lincoln's relationship was very complex. She was always rough with him on many, many occasions. In her eyes, that was the only way she could ever display her affections to him. She didn't know how to be soft. She didn't know how to be like her other sisters. Then, she realized that she did not know how to be feminine. She always played the role of big sister to Lincoln, protecting him at all costs. She always looked out for his safety. They didn't have much in common, but she loved her brother dearly.

And because she had that love, she was beginning to think how good would Lincoln look in a dress.

She knew that it wasn't going to easy. She even felt guilty on using Lincoln for her selfish reasons. But, the more she thought of Lincoln and the boy queen, it also reminded her of the boy who was her first love. She couldn't ever forget his face, his smile, and overall, his soft hands.

She whispered a prayer for forgiveness.

In private, she perused websites, looking at images and blogs about gender swapping. At the beginning, she was taken aback, but the more she looked, the more comfortable she became. Starting small, she started wearing boyshorts instead of panties. On occasion and in secret, she went to second-hand shops to buy boys clothing. She started watching femdom and cross-dressing pornography. She was doing many things to identify her acceptance.

The only thing was to plant the seed into Lincoln.

Before the encounter she had with Lincoln, Lynn was conducting research on Pavlov. She was looking for his theory of classical conditioning. She used a tape recorder with her thoughts on Lincoln's questioning with his identity. On the first night, she sneaked into his room and placed the headphones on him. She did it for a few hours until she came in the morning to retrieve it before he woke up. She continued to do it for several nights up until their kiss.

Have you ever thought of me as a boy? It served as the trigger on Lincoln's questioning with his identity.

That day, she was aware that Lincoln was having problems with Ronnie Anne. She was grateful. Because she did not want any tomboy having their hands on her Lincoln. In her eyes, Lincoln was hers and hers alone. She waited for the right opportunity to talk about her crisis with Lincoln. It became a domino effect after that. She knew that Lincoln would do anything for his sisters. That was why she had the courage to share a kiss with her brother.

It was the second time she had ever shared a kiss with someone.

However, her seed planting with Lincoln was far from over.

That day when she was in PE, she asked the coach could they run through the neighborhood. She watched as Lincoln began blushing and becoming flustered. It was part of her plan. The more Lynn started showing her face, the more her seed was producing.

It was confirmed when she watched her brother moaned her name in the bathroom. She watched him grab himself and thinking of himself as a girl. Lynn licked her lips as she imagined taking Lincoln's anal virginity.

Make me dirty, Lynn. Make me your girl.

She smiled as she backed away from the bathroom and returned to her room.

That night while she was lying in her bed, she began thinking about her actions with Lincoln. Is this what I really want to do with him? Do I really consider him as a girl? Or, is this a form of revenge for that boy who mistaken me as a boy?

Her thoughts went away when she got a knock on the door. When she went and answered it, it was Lincoln.

"Lynn," he said with a hint of timidity in his voice.

"Hey, bro. What's up," she said.

"Can we talk," he said.

"Sure," she said.

He lowered his eyes. He looked at Lynn with the same look as the boy did when they met at the arcade. "Can we talk alone, like in my room," he asked.

She smiled. "Sure, bro. Anything for you."

Lincoln left the room and Lynn followed into his room while keeping a hidden smile within.

Chapter Text

Leni stretched her arms as she closed her notebook. Her face displayed relief after spending hours on complete her assignment. She rubbed her wrist and cracked her knuckles before looking at the wall in front of her. It was important to her to pass her Algebra final. This was her second time taking Algebra I and she was the only sophomore in her class of freshman. The students did not pay it any mind, but she did. She knew she was not the brightest crayon in the box, but she did have feelings. She yearned for the gift of being an intellect like her sister, Lisa or have the dedication of studying like her brother, Lincoln. She preferred more of the latter for her assistance.

Lincoln, although still in elementary school, was blessed with the gift of gab. He could look at a page and after a few minutes of tinkering, he was able to get it. At the beginning, Lincoln would do her homework. He told her that he couldn't give her a perfect score without raising suspicion to her teacher or their parents. He managed to get her through the first semester of school with a C average. However, she was still managing with a low GPA. Her counselor told her that if she did not want to go to summer school, then she needed to make a B in Algebra I. Around the latter half of the school year, she asked for Lincoln's help. Only this time, she wanted to be there to know how to handle the workload and solve the problems.

Through long, tedious hours, many energy drinks and coffee shots, the duo were together ensuring the Leni passed this class. What made Leni yearned more of her brother was because of the dutiful sacrifice that he had taken. She knew that Lincoln had a life of his own. And that made her feel guilty.

She put her notebook in her backpack. Then she reached into her drawer and pulled out a pair of tickets. As a reward for his hard work, Leni had tickets for them to go to the comic book convention in downtown Royal Woods. She even had V.I.P. passes to go to the Ace Savvy panel. Since Lincoln published a comic and included her as the sidekick, the 11 of Hearts, it made her want him to create more comics of them together. Nothing brought Leni excitement of fighting crime and saving lives. For as long her brother was by her side.

The clock on the wall displayed the time of being a few minutes after nine in the evening. It was normally Lincoln's bedtime, but he was known for reading comics around that time. Hopefully, he didn't mind if she came into his room for a surprise, she thought to himself.

Leni stepped out of her room and into the hallway. With the exception of her parents, Lori, Luan, Luna, and Lynn, the younger Loud sisters were in bed. She carefully walked the hallway heading toward Lincoln's room. However, something caught her attention when she saw the bathroom door ajar. Becoming curious, she went toward the bathroom.

As she was looking into the bathroom, she saw Lincoln kneeling on the ground beside the bathtub. The sound of a brush was filling the bathroom. From her angle, it seemed that Lincoln was cleaning something. A dirty thought of Lincoln having a wet dream made her smile. Well, I mean, Lincoln is at that age in which when he thinks of a girl in his sleep, he will let one out whether he wants to or not. Wondering what he is thinking about? Ronnie Anne? His substitute teacher? Any of his other classmates? She snickered on how she planned to catch him in the act.

She peered around the door and made her move as she jumped into the bathroom.

"Hold it right there, you lecher you," she said while pointing his finger at Lincoln.

Lincoln looked surprised. He hid the article of clothing behind him. His face was blushed. It looked like he did not expect anyone to come into the bathroom. Especially at this hour.

"Surrender the pants, or else I am going to report you to the fashion police," she said while continuing to have a smile on her face.

"What are you talking about," questioned Lincoln.

'What I am talking about is the fact that you are cleaning something with a brush," she said. "Having any wet dreams lately?"

"Wet dreams," he retorted. "No. Just doing a little cleaning is all."

"C'mon, Linky," she said teasingly. "It is okay. I am your big sister." She closed the bathroom door behind her. "You can tell her all about what has been on your mind."

Where is this coming from? Why am I sort of excited about Linc having a wet dream. Calling him a lecher. It is more of the other way around.

"There is nothing to talk about," said Lincoln. "I was just taking care of some things. No wet dream at all."

"Really," she said. "Then you won't have any objection to show me what have you been hiding behind you. Hmm?"

He shook his head in disagreement. "No, you don't want to look. It is something that is not a big deal."

She put her hands on her hip. She leaned forward to her brother. "Trust me, Linc. I am not going to judge you. We all have urges and can feel embarrassed about it." She sat beside him. "Granted that I can't have semen, but girls get wet dreams, too."

Lincoln looked puzzled as if she was speaking in a different language.

"It is quite natural to have those feelings," she said while wrapping her arms around his shoulder. "It just tells you that you are becoming an adult."

"Leni, it isn't like that," he said before she put her finger to his lip.

"Let me finish," she said.

Lincoln went silent.

"We get those feelings built up inside of us. Sometimes, if we got to rub one off, mother nature would do that for us in our dreams," she said. "I can have wild dreams. In fact, I had a dream last night about you. Well, it wasn't you, but he looked like you and his name was Lincoln also. But, he wasn't you. Just a coincidence."

Lincoln looked very puzzled. "Yeah, but you see Leni. It is nothing of that." He became stammered. "I think I should head out."

As he tried to leave, she reached for the item behind him. Her eyes widened like saucers when grabbing the article of clothing. "Awe, I knew it." She was holding a pair of his underwear.

"Tighty whities," she said teasingly.

"Give them back," protested Lincoln as he was jumping to get them. Leni was dangling them in one hand and holding Lincoln back with the other.

"Give them back," screamed Lincoln.

"No," said Leni while sticking her tongue out.

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No, no, and no. And did I mention the word, "no?"

Leni continued to hold back Lincoln while inspecting his underwear. "I knew to see if you left any seminal residue of your budding manhood." She scanned the underwear. She was laughing until something caught her attention.

"What a minute," she said. She saw that the boxers were stained. However, there was nothing that displayed anything of him having a wet dream. Around the wet area were blotches. She continued examining until she saw that the blotches were red.

"Lincoln," she said. "Did you spill ketchup on yourself at school or something?"

Lincoln was flustered. He snatched the boxers away and left the bathroom.

"Lincoln, wait," she said before Lincoln closed the door in front of her. She put her hands on the door. No longer was she thinking of perverted thoughts. Now her thoughts were filled with worry. As soon as he goes to bed, I need to see what was on those boxers.

Leni waited until she thought it was late enough for everyone to be asleep. She got out of bed and quietly made her way to the hallway before entering Lincoln's room. She delicately grabbed the knob to his door. She had to be very delicate so there won't be any sound to disturb the sleeping Lincoln. She came inside without any disturbance. Relieved, she closed the door. She looked over and saw that Lincoln was sleeping. She tried matching his breaths so there wouldn't be a disturbance in his rhythm.

Carefully, she walked to his closet. She was fortunate that Lincoln kept his closet door open. She went into his laundry bin to look for the boxers. It wasn't easy. It wasn't on top. Knowing for Lincoln, he put deep into the bin without thinking that their mother was going to pay attention. Typical teenaged boy, she thought to herself before going into the dirty clothes. After a few minutes, she managed to find the boxers. Trying to not further alert any noise, she made her way out of his bedroom and she was back in the hallway. With the boxers in her hand, she wanted to make sure that it was not she hoped it was.

The next day, Leni went into the basement where she knew Lisa was conducting her experiments. It wasn't often that Lisa used the basement, but she was conducting experiments to see if their home contained any evidence of asbestos.

"Greetings, Leni," said Lisa with a sigh.

"Gee, Lisa," Leni said. "How did you know it was me?"

"Duh, a mirror," she replied.

"Oh, yeah," answered Leni.

"What do you want," she asked with a hint that she did not want to be bothered.

"Your help."

"My help?" Lisa sighed. "I have told you plenty of times. You don't have to become Vanna White to learn your alphabets."

"No, not that," cried Leni. "Not this time. It is very important." She put Lincoln's boxers on the table beside Lisa.

"Do you have a boyfriend you are suspecting that is cheating on you?"

"No. I want to see what is on the boxers."

Leni pointed to the blotches on the boxers. Lisa raised her eyebrows, more surprised on how serious Leni was this time.

"Ok, let me check," said Lisa. She pulled out her magnifying glass to inspect the boxers. "Checking, checking, checking." She put the glasses down. "Done."

"What is the verdict," questioned Leni.

"The blotches on the boxers is blood," concluded Lisa before giving her the soiled boxers.

"What do you think the reason could be," she questioned Lisa.

"Plenty of hypothesis to the matter," she said. "The person could have been in an accident; he could bruise easily, or maybe he is being attacked or abused." She put her finger to her lip. "Hand me back those boxers."

Leni returned the boxers to Lisa. Lisa told Leni to turn off the lights. Lisa retrieved an ultraviolet flashlight. She spread the boxers so that she could further investigate. She used the flashlight to see the blotches. "Interesting. Very interesting."

"What are you seeing," questioned Leni.

"See the blood pattern here," said Lisa. "The blood trajectory is at an angle. Also, I have noticed that there are patterns along with the blood. It looks like it is something of a belt."

"A belt," retorted Leni.

"I am afraid so," said Lisa. "This person is getting severely spanked to the point where it is leaving a trace of blood."

Leni's mouth went agape when hearing that.

"You should very concerned about this," she said while looking at Leni. "How did you get this?"

Leni stammered. "Nothing. I have found it outside of the garbage can in front of our house."

Lisa shook her head. "Regardless, I am showing much concerned for this person. I think it is very important to take a DNA sample."

"No," protested Leni as she reached for the boxers. "I mean, I may know who the person is."

"But, you said…," said Lisa.

"I know what I said," said Leni. "The thing is...the thing is...the thing is that the person is scared of getting in trouble if someone finds out."

"Nobody in this world deserves abuse, Leni," said Lisa. "He needs to inform the authorities."

"He should?"

"Yes. Or else, he will continue to suffer this abuse."

Leni bowed quietly before Leni. "Thank you."

Leni took the soiled boxers and headed upstairs. When she made her way to the bathroom, her eyes were filled with tears. She grabbed the boxers and held it tight like it was a newborn child. The tears were flowing from her eyes to Lincoln's soiled boxers. She held it tightly knowing that someone might be abusing Lincoln.

Chapter Text

One...two, three.

Lincoln stepped off of the edge of the world and plunged into the night. The wind rushed by him. He was hearing screaming but realized that the sound was coming from his own voice.

The water was pitch black, black like tar, black like a blackboard, black as the night. He closed his eyes when his feet got in contact with the surface of the water. When making contact with the water, it was silent. There was no snapping of any bones, no loud splash, just pure silence. When submerged in the water, Lincoln became scared as the rushing water overlapped him like he was in a washer. He tumbled and tumbled through the rushing water. Anytime he opened his eyes, he became scared. That was because it was pure blackness.

Where am I? Am I a part of this world? Is the world only God knows? Am I dead? Alive?

Although he was scared, he didn't panic. Instead, he remembered what Lori told him whenever he was in conditions like this, relax his body. Following his sister's instruction, he told himself to relax.

Ok, Lincoln. Remember this is only water. You have more power than it has over you. Just relax. Just relax.

One, two, three.

He released the tension from his body, allowing the current to take him. By that time, his heart stopped pounding furiously. He was no longer struggling, with the exception that he had to come up and breathe.

He felt his chest burning, his lung protested him to go to the surface. By that time, his body was taking control over his thoughts as his legs were kicking and his arms were swinging. He kept pushing and pushing until he made it to the surface.

When approaching the surface, he breached for air like it was his first time into the world. Nothing is sweeter in the world than oxygen, he said to himself. Now, he had to ride the current until he was able to stop.

"Keep your head above water," he said aloud. "Keep your head above water." He wallowed with the current. The waves tumbling him. The smell and taste of water surrounded his nostrils and his mouth. At times, he had consumed the water. He was riding the current for about ten minutes until the current begin slowing down. When finding the opportunity, Lincoln was thinking of getting out of the current.

Fortunately, he saw a lingering branch approaching him. Looking at that as a sign, he extended his arms and caught the branch. Catching it was easy, but holding on to it was harder than he thought. Despite the pressure, he held onto the branch. Little by little, he shimmied with the branch until he was able to make it to the surface.

He succeeded.

He stepped on the moist ground. He then landed on his knees, panting loudly. He was cold as it reminded him that he was swimming in his underpants. Once he was able to breathe properly, he sat against the branch. He looked around and he saw nothing but darkness. Thank God for the moon, he thought, or he would have never seen that branch coming into his direction.

Then, the next thing on his mind, Lori and the others. He scanned to the direction where he jumped. However, he couldn't see anything.

"Lori," he screamed.

There was no response.

"Lori," he screamed again.

There was no response.

"Leni," he screamed.

"Clyde?"

"Ronnie Anne?"

"Anybody?"

There was no response. There wasn't anything but the rushing water filling the vacuum-like atmosphere.

Nothing but the slight echo coming from his voice.

His heart began racing, but he was telling himself to calm down. Panicking in the wilderness was the last thing he wanted to do. For a moment, he blamed Ronnie Anne. He wished that she never pushed him to do this kind of act. And for what, to protect his sister?

"Why did I do that," he said to himself while kicking the ground. "Sometimes, Lori couldn't give a damn if I was around or not. It is like I am a pest to her. Then yet again, I am a twerp to her."

A little frustrated, he kicked the ground again.

Feeling defeated, he sat on the ground. He knew that they have to be looking for him. If so, it may take awhile. And with the morning not for a few hours, it was going to be awhile. He sighed.

As he was looking at the river, something from the other side caught his attention. At first glance, no one would have noticed it, but something was waving from the trees on the other side. At first, it looked like a white flag. The moon was shining brightly toward the tree. Then, suddenly, his eyes widened when noticing that the flag was moving.

It turned out that it was not a flag at all, but a person.

Judging from the appearance, it was a girl. She was wearing a white dress that was drenched in water. Her long blonde hair went with the wind. She had her hand next to the tree. Lincoln was unsure of what she was doing. When he tried to back away, he stepped on a twig. He let out a yelp, which gave the girl her attention.

She stopped and locked eyes with Lincoln. Lincoln was confused but was certain that she was staring at him. She left the tree and was heading for his direction. What made it more raveling was when as she approached the river, she began walking on it. That was enough for him to entice fear. As he was trying to leave, the girl extended her arm out to him. That made him froze. He became stiff when becoming alerted by this mysterious girl. She continued walking across the river until she made it to the other side.

There was no sound coming from her. She was staring at him. She took a couple of steps before facing him. She took a couple of breaths as if she was surprised to see him. Suddenly, she extended her arms out to him.

"My love," she said with a whisper. "My love."

"My love," he questioned.

She continued walking toward his direction. "Where have you been? It's been so long."

Lincoln cautiously was taken aback from the mysterious woman. She had her hands extended and was lingering forward and forward.

"My love," she cried. "You have returned. Where have you been, my love."

"I don't know who you are referring to," he said hesitantly.

Her glowing smile spread further as she was becoming closer. "I don't think...I don't think…" Lincoln was shaking in fear. Also, he was feeling the night chill. Panicking, he decided to run.

"No, don't go," cried the girl. "Don't go."

He was running. He didn't know where as the darkness became more engulfing. He could still hear the woman with her cries, saying that he was a missing love.

"Please," she screamed. "Don't leave me again. Don't leave me."

He continued running until he trip and hit the ground face first. The pressure of being half-naked didn't make it easier as he felt the rough burns of the grass. He turned over as he could see a small shimmering light. He saw the moon, but it shined perfectly upon the mysterious girl.

"Come back to me," she said while wavering her arms. "Come back to me."

With enough strength, he managed to stand. There was a small twitch of pain on his ankle, but he tried to hardest to withstand the pain. He continued running until he saw a dry ravine. He went into the ravine. He muffled his voice.

Stay silent. Just stay silent. He kept telling himself. His hands were trembling from fear. He felt the pressure coming to him from the cold. Many things were running through his mind. He questioned on rather or not he was alive. He thought he could be in a purgatory-like state. He also thought about his parents, his siblings, Clyde. His final thought was on Lori.

"Lori," he sniffed. "Lori."

He wiped the tears with his hand. He hovered over his knees and stood still. He lied back as he hoped that the mysterious girl didn't find him.

Suddenly, he heard something crept over him. He felt the dirt landing on his head. He muffled his mouth. Lori, Lori. Help me, Lori. Please find me, Lori. He thought to himself. I don't want to be here. I am sorry that I put myself through this. Sorry for being a selfish little brother. I shouldn't allow my feelings take the best of me.

The presence was creeping forward. It was getting closer.

I should've never taken you for granted. I might be a twerp to you. You may not look at me as the best brother. But I love you, sis. I do what I do to you because it is only to show my affection to you. I love being around you and do these kinds of things with you. Just be here, Lori. Please, be with me. Lori, Lori, Lori.

"Lincoln," said a voice.

He opened his eyes and saw a flashing light a few feet away into the ravine.

"Lincoln," said another voice.

"Lincoln," said another voice, only this time he knew that one.

Lincoln stood up. His knees became wobbly as he stood up. He was moving up the ravine as he saw a group of people holding flashlights.

"Lincoln, where are you," cried Lori. Lincoln saw her having a flashlight in her hand.

"Where are you, bro," asked Leni.

Lincoln gathered the little energy he had left and climbed to the surface where they could see him.

"I am here," he said with a faint voice. "I am here."

Clyde took notice and flashed his light to Lincoln's direction. "Guys, there he is." He pointed to the others and they ran to his direction.

"Lincoln," cried Lori as she ran to her brother's aid. She kneeled on the ground. She was becoming tense after seeing her brother in his condition. "Here, let me help you." She removed her cardigan and wrapped it around Lincoln. She rubbed his arms to warm him up. She wrapped her arms around her brother as she was feeling on his forehead.

"Don't ever do that me again," she cried to Lincoln.

"I am sorry," cried Lincoln while his voice was crackling. "I am sorry."

Lincoln felt her hot tears landing on his face. "Don't ever do that again," she said again. "You had me worried. You had me scared."

"I am sorry," cried Lincoln as he was beginning to close his eyes. "I love you, sis."

Lori picked up Lincoln and put him on her back. "Let's get home," she told the others. Leni and Clyde began heading for the car while Lori was helping Lincoln. She held on tightly so that he wouldn't fall.

As Lincoln was being carried by his sister, he felt another eerie, but pleasant feeling. He felt the warmth. He opened his eyes and saw the mysterious woman beside him. She put her fingers to her lips, enticing silence to him.

Don't be afraid. For I am a friendly. Just listen to me and I won't hurt you. I don't have any reason to harm you. Understand?

Lincoln shook his head in agreement.

You look like the love I have lost. A love that I couldn't have because of how forbidden it was. He was very dear to me. A sweet, lovely boy he was.

She rubbed his forehead, which made Lincoln shiver.

He was just like you. Always supportive, always protective. Do whatever he could to protect the honor of his family. He was a wonderful boy that I eventually fell in love. But, what could I do knowing that I had a crush on my brother? It burned my heart knowing of these ill feelings. It burned my heart to know that he had felt the same way. He knew of it and didn't dare once judge me. Such a kindred spirit that he allowed me to do my selfish acts on him.

Alas, he was a kind boy. And I loved that about him. Upon my family learning of our love, I was casted away. Forbidden and abandoned by the family who brought me up. It tore me inside on knowing I couldn't see my love. I didn't want any other. So, I decided to end my life. A life without my brother is like a day without blue skies. A day without hearing the tranquil sounds of birds. Just hopeless.

This very ravine was the path I took on my way to my fate. I cried the entire way there. Grief-stricken and melancholic. I continued the path while crossing the river and making my way to the cliff. I stood there and watching the water rushing away. The entire time, I didn't think about anything but my love and my love alone.

Then, from the distance, I saw him. I saw my brother running towards me. He was crying, pleading and telling me to not do it. I was smiling because I knew that our love couldn't be torn. However, I knew that it wasn't going to last. But seeing him in my final moments were breathtaking. I looked up to the heavens and took the jump.

Was I selfish? Do you think I was selfish? It matters not. But, young lad, I want you to know that you should be grateful for having a sister that cares about you. She is not perfect. Neither was I. When seeing your sister look for you brought me joy because it made me think how my brother was looking for me.

You should be grateful. You should indeed.

'I am,' Lincoln told the mysterious girl. 'I am.'

I do have one request. One final selfish request I ask of you.

'What is it.' asked Lincoln.

The mysterious girl whispered into his ear. After she finished, Lincoln shook his head.

Thank you, Lincoln.

'Thank you, Umi,' said Lincoln.

Chapter Text

Lincoln couldn't grasp around the idea of the changes that were coming to him. It was quick and abrupt. There was no giving warning. Anything. Of course, he would've loved to have the time to have it quickly processed into his mind, but there wasn't any time to give to him. Honestly, he knew he was on borrowed time. No matter how much he could've, would've, should've prayed for the moment, there was no more avoiding the inevitable. He gripped the suitcase tightly, holding onto to what was left of his possession. He had held it tight to the point where his fingers were becoming red. He kept a plastic smile, but it was to hide his true emotions. Hidden tears that no one was going to see, but the Lord himself.

The skies were gray like the vision in his mind. There was nothing more he could think of but to how things were once before. That was being at home with his loving parents. Spending time with his loving sisters. Being with his dear friends, Clyde and Ronnie Anne. But those moments were no longer existent.

Everything was becoming foreign. His world, his livelihood, even the vehicle was sitting in that was taking him to a place he did not want to go. He wanted to be back home with his family. He wanted to be back with his friends. He wanted his life how he liked it. He was acutely aware of changes, but he didn't know the magnitude of how change can affect people.

Lincoln, himself, was not exempt to it as well.

A few months ago, Lincoln returned home from school to a room full of strangers that he had never seen before. All of them were clothed in uniform. It was like he was frozen in time because how detail the scene was when arriving home. There were a group of gentlemen surrounding the living room with his sisters, Leni and Lori. Their eyes were reddened with grief. Hearing Lori's wails were piercing to his ears. Leni had a stare, a thousand yard stare. People were talking to her, rubbing her back, but nothing was registering but a faucet of tears.

Lincoln remembered the uniformed men being with Royal Woods Police Department. Then, another uniformed person, a woman, entered from the kitchen. In her hands were a notebook. He remembered it as clear as day. On the front of the notebook was a logo titled, Child Protective Services. When Lori saw Lincoln standing at the center, she ran and greeted her little brother. She wrapped her arms tightly as if he was a possession that she did not want to let go.

She kissed him on his cheek, gripping him tightly. She was telling him that everything was going to be alright. There was nothing to be panicking about. But, Lincoln knew she was lying. Her eyes and her swollen cheeks told a different tale. With much memory he could process, he asked Lori of the whereabouts of their parents.

Suddenly, he felt a firm grip of a police officer. He saw how discerning he was. The police gave him a smile, but it was unassuring. It had a euphemistic feeling around it. His heart stopped when he heard the words no child should hear.

There has been an accident.

Lincoln didn't hear the words, but he read his lips. He began to stumble, bouncing from place to place when hearing those haunting words. The last thing he could remember was hitting the floor face first.

As he collapsed, he saw the family portrait of his loving family. The one of few portrait they have taken as a family. It was in front of the Royal Woods Hotel. Of course, it was a crazy experience, but it was something he had cherished to the end. No family was perfect, but if you are a Loud, you are accepted no matter what.

He had hoped that his parents were thinking the same thing about their family; in their final moments before they were greeted with the 18-wheeler that careened into their vehicle.

Lincoln liked how supportive the woman from social services was throughout this ordeal. She was of Asian descent. She was short and thin. She had long brown hair. She had crystal clear green eyes. She was not quite a beautiful woman, but she wasn't average either. She had a face of a nurturing mother. She presented herself with a warm, welcoming smile. Something that all of the Loud would like to see in their time of need.

That night, she gathered all of the Loud siblings into the kitchen to share them the unfortunate news.

There was not a dry eye in the kitchen as the siblings made a choral moan of their mourning. They held onto each tightly, screaming the name of their mother and father. Lincoln continued staring at the woman as she remained calm. She slowly approached him and wrapped around him as well. She cooed and silenced him, telling him to calm down. Seeking the love of a parent, he released all of his tears into her bosom.

That night, their fates were being questioned on where they were going. Their Aunt Ruth was incapable of taking care of them. She was confined to a retirement home. Their Pop-Pop passed away about a year ago from natural causes. Lori wanted responsibility, but she was too young and still in high school. With the lack of options, the woman who was responsible for social services explained that they were going to a group home.

The loud wailing returned.

They have to gather as much as they could as they prepare to go to the group home. They were going to Detroit. Because of the difference in age, many were divided. Lori, Leni, Luan, Lynn, and Luna were going to a group home for teenagers. Lily was being prepared to go to foster care. Lincoln, Lucy, Lana, Lisa, and Lola were going to another group home.

They walked to the front porch were different cars were taking the siblings to their locations. All were holding hands as they knew that they were going to be separated. Lincoln remembered one distinctive thing about the situation. Lori had a pleasant smile. She gathered them around to assure them that everything was going to be alright.

Calm down, our parents wouldn't like seeing us like this. But, we are going to be okay. This is temporary. This won't be long until everything gets straightened out. I know we now have to get ready for funeral arrangements, but this is only temporary. Okay?

Now, my eighteenth birthday is approaching. I am going to do my hardest to try getting you guys out of here. As soon as I can, I am going to grant custody for all of you. Until then, stay strong.

She faced Lincoln.

You are in charge of the little ones, Linc. I know this is going to be hard but watch over them. We are a family and we have to stick together. That is my word. I promise you, I will get you out.

Lincoln felt her hot lips touching his forehead along with doing the same for the others. They maintained their pride as they entered the vehicles that were taking them to their respective group homes.

"We will be there in a couple of minutes. Just hang out tight until then." Lincoln looked up as he saw the same woman he had met in the living room giving him instructions.

"Yes ma'am," he said with a slight smile.

The woman was named Yukiko, but she preferred to be called Aunt Yuki. Since being admitted to the group home, Aunt Yuki had taken a liking to Lincoln. Everyday, she greeted Lincoln with a warm smile before giving him and his younger sisters treats. At every effort, she took responsibility and effort with the siblings, especially Lincoln.

When Lincoln asked of her family, she explained that she lived with her husband, Hirofumi. And they had a daughter named Takako. According to Aunt Yuki, Takako died of a sudden illness a few years ago. She said that she and Lincoln were the same age. She told Lincoln that he reminded her of her daughter: strong-willed, creative, positive, motivated, and very intelligent.

As the months went by, Lincoln began to spend more time with Aunt Yuki. It was getting to the point when he was looking at her as a mother figure. She picked him up from school. She attended any parent-teacher conference with him. She had taken him and his younger siblings out to the park, the amusement park, swimming, and the like. Lincoln loved how Aunt Yuki made the best of the situation they were facing currently.

Then one day, an opportunity came to him. Aunt Yuki asked Lincoln would he cared if he comes and live with her until he faced adoption. Lincoln told Aunt Yuki that he clung to the hope until Lori claimed custody of them. Although Lori turned eighteen, she was still in high school. She tried on many occasions to gain custody of her siblings, but the court told her that she must finish high school and have a stable income. It was a blow to the family, but Lori told them to pray until she can finish high school. Nevertheless, Aunt Yuki assured him that it was temporary until Lori finished school. She wanted Lori to get a quality education and be able to find a stable job. He had also asked if his sisters can come with him, but she said that she only had funding to accommodate him.

As much he loved his sisters, but he yearned for a mother figure as well, he accepted Aunt Yuki's offer.

The night before his departure, he told his siblings that he had to go away for awhile. When asked about his reason to leave, he regrettably lied and told them that he was put into foster care. He remembered how tearful his sisters were for losing their only brother.

'You promised Lori that you would protect us,' cried Lana.

'You did, you did,' cried Lola.

Lincoln embraced his sisters, explaining that he didn't want to do it, but it was forced. He didn't have the heart to tell the truth. He wanted to protect his sisters, but he also wanted the love of a mother and a father.

'I know, but I promise to check on you guys. I promise,' said Lincoln. 'You know I will never abandon you. I will not leave you hanging out to dry. I will always be there for you. In due time, Lori will come and take all of us back. We will be a family again.'

'You promise,' asked Lucy.

'Promise,' confirmed Lincoln.

Lincoln did a pinky swear to his sisters. The next day, they watch Lincoln entered Aunt Yuki's car and to his new home.

"What's wrong, Lincoln," asked Aunt Yuki as she looked at him from the mirror.

Lincoln sighed. "I feel bad for leaving my sisters like that. I am feeling guilty."

"Poor child," said Aunt Yuki. "It's not your fault and neither your sisters. If I can take them all, I could, but I only had enough for you." She had a tone of concern, which was assuring for Lincoln. "Remember, you are still a kid yourself."

"I know, but I miss them," replied Lincoln.

She raised her eyebrow. "Tell you what, you are more than welcomed to visit them everyday after school." She gave him a warm smile. "Is that fine with you?"

Lincoln shook his head in approval.

Aunt Yuki reached her hand to the backseat. She motioned him to come to her direction. He followed suit and she rubbed his forehead. "Trust me, Lincoln, you will be fine. Do you enjoy spending time with your Aunt Yuki?"

"I do," replied Lincoln. "Very much, you are the closest thing to a mother I have at this point."

"Thanks, sweetheart," replied Aunt Yuki. "And I am sure that Uncle Hiro would love having you too."

Lincoln had only met her husband on a few occasions. Most of the time, it was a "hi-and-bye." From those times, he was very friendly. He worked as a manager for an automotive company in Detroit. According to Aunt Yuki, he was a loving and devoted husband and father. He took it the hardest with Takako passed away. She told Lincoln that he cried himself to sleep in their daughter's bed. She explained that his living arrangement doesn't serve as a replacement for their daughter, but she hoped that he is able to fill the void in their home.

Aunt Yuki drove to the parking garage where they were greeted by a valet. The man opened the door for Aunt Yuki before opening the door for Lincoln. Aunt Yuki carried his suitcase in one hand and held his hand with the other as they entered the elevator.

"Would you press the button for the top floor please, Lincoln," asked Aunt Yuki.

"Sure," replied Lincoln as he was pushing the button.

Lincoln felt weird as the elevator quickly glided the fifteen stories to the top floor. When they came to a stop, Aunt Yuki pulled out a card and scanned at a device below the buttons. When Lincoln heard access cleared from the speaker, the elevator opened. Lincoln became in awe as he saw how luxurious the hallway looked. It was embroiled in gold and the floor was checkered gold and white. Each door was customized with bronze heavy metal door knockers. He couldn't imagine how expensive the door itself could have been.

Aunt Yuki continued to walk the hallway until they stopped at their door. Next to the door was a nameplate with their names and their family name.

"The Matsumotos." Lincoln read it aloud as he put his finger on the nameplate.

"I am impressed," said Aunt Yuki with her hand to her lips.

"Why," questioned Lincoln.

"Because the nameplate is in Japanese," replied Aunt Yuki.

He became flushed. "I dibble-dabble in the Japanese language."

Aunt Yuki pulled out the keys to the apartment. When he entered, his mouth became agape at the sight of her apartment. He stood in the living room where it had custom made furniture. The couch appeared antique but could tell it was hardly used. The television was wide as one of his walls in his former bedroom. In the center of the living room was a kotatsu. Looking at its design, he knew that it too was imported. He ventured further when he saw that the couple had a huge entertainment center surrounding the television. He thought that they must have the latest in stereo equipment. He saw on the shelves the abundance of DVDs. His mouth wanted to water on that sight.

"Your eyes tell all," she said with an amusing tone. "But, I want to show you where you are staying."

Lincoln followed Aunt Yuki to where he was staying. When he entered, he saw that his bedroom was wider than his parents' bedroom. It had a huge queen-sized bed. There was a widescreen television with an entertainment center with similar features in the living room. His eyes looked like stars when he saw the latest video games that were featured in front of him.

"Oh, my God," said Lincoln as he was still in a state of shock. "For me?"

"All yours, Lincoln," replied Aunt Yuki. "I had it set up so that you can feel comfortable with us for awhile."

"Thanks," said Lincoln as he went and hugged her. She patted his forehead before rubbing through his hair. "I am more than happy to do for you, sweetheart." She broke the embrace before looking at her watch.

"Uncle Hiro should be home at any moment," said Aunt Yuki. "I will order dinner for us." She observed Lincoln before slightly frowning. "I think you should wash up as well. You smell kind of mature."

"Sorry about that," replied Lincoln.

"No worries, sweetheart," said Aunt Yuki with a reassuring tone. "From this point, me and your uncle are going to take care of you." She put her hand on his shoulder. "Go and wash up. By the time you are finished, everything should be straighten out."

"Yes ma'am," replied Lincoln.

Lincoln went into the bathroom. Once again, he was amazed on how wide it was. It had a jacuzzi-sized bathtub. It had a stand-in shower. It even had a built-in sauna. He decided to go inside of the stand-in shower. He loved that the shower had nozzles in all directions. It was even temperature-controlled. He baptized himself into the shower and got lost in the luxury of being with his temporary family.

He meant it on it being temporary. He still missed his sisters and had prayed to God for Lori's graduation from high school. This is a temporary thing. Lori is going to make sure that we are back together as a family. Until then, this will do. This will do.

When Lincoln stepped out of the shower, he returned to his bedroom where he dried off. He put on his clothes from the suitcase and then walked to the kitchen.

When he arrived at the kitchen, he saw that kitchen was very spacious. It reminded him of a chef's kitchen. He tilted his head where he saw Aunt Yuki and the friendly face of Uncle Hiro.

"Well, don't you smell fresh," asked Aunt Yuki as she pulled out a seat for him. "I hope you are in a mood for steak. If not, I wouldn't mind making you a grilled cheese sandwich with jelly."

Lincoln shook his head. "No, it is alright. Whatever you guys eat, I am fine as well."

"Good," replied Uncle Hiro with a smile.

The trio said grace before partaking of their meal. Lincoln was surprised on how rich the steak tasted when eating it. "This is really good," said Lincoln with his mouth full.

"I am glad," replied Aunt Yuki. "There is plenty to go around."

"Con gusto," answered Lincoln as he reached for another steak.

"So, my dear wife tells me that you are going to stay with us for awhile," asked Uncle Hiro.

"Yes, sir," confirmed Lincoln.

"I bet this can keep your mind from the group home for quite a bit," said Uncle Hiro.

"Yes, sir," answered Hiro.

"Easy with that, dear," retorted Aunt Yuki while rubbing her husband's hand. "This is still fresh for him. Also, his family is still there."

"I am sorry," replied Uncle Hiro. "Forgive me."

"It's okay," answered Lincoln. "Honestly, this is a change of pace from what I have experienced over the last few months."

"I understand," said Aunt Yuki. "I know that your family estate is still being handled. Once Lori gets out of school, then your family becomes united again."

"Yes, ma'am," said Lincoln.

Aunt Yuki rested her hands on her chin. Lincoln put his fork down when seeing her change in expression. "What's the matter. Aunt Yuki."

She looked at Lincoln. "It's nothing. It's nothing." She paused before doing a quick sigh. "I just want your time with us be as loving as possible."

"I agree with her," concurred Uncle Hiro. "This big house has been quiet since our daughter passed away."

Lincoln was quiet. He reached for his fork to eat some of the mashed potatoes.

"I know how important it is to be with your family," said Aunt Yuki. "Your sisters mean everything to you."

He shook his head. "We have always been this tight. My mother and father instilled that in us. If anything happened to them, then we have to fend for each other. That is why I love them. That is why I miss them."

Aunt Yuki reached for a napkin to give to Lincoln. "Don't worry yourself, child. Believe me, they feel the same way about you, too. Do you believe that."

He was still sniffling, but he nodded his head.

"Hiro and I may not be your parents," said Aunt Yuki. "Believe me that we are not trying to replace them. But for the time being while you are, you can look at us as your mother and your father. A surrogate, I mean. Or you can call us your dear Aunt Yuki and Uncle Hiro."

He gave a slight smile. "Thank you for what you are doing for me. I am in your care for the meantime."

"One more thing, Lincoln," said Uncle Hiro. "You may not be our dear Takako, but at least you give us something to do in a sense of having a child in the home."

Aunt Yuki shook her head in agreement. "We promise to be here with you. Whatever you need, just let us know. We may not be your parents, but at least we can be somewhat of a family."

"I would love that," said Lincoln. "Understand that I can't look at you all as Mom and Dad. So, can I keep calling you guys Aunt Yuki and Uncle Hiro?"

Uncle Hiro reached over and patted Lincoln on the back. "That is fine, champ. Whatever we can do to make this house loving and warming again."

Uncle Hiro raised a glass in the air. "I want to make a toast to our family. To my loving wife, Yukiko." He gave a smile to Lincoln. "And to our loving son, Lincoln."

They all raised their glass and toasted each other. Lincoln grew a hint of concern. He thought he had made it clear to the family that he wanted to be known as their nephew instead of their son. He decided to look over it as he continued to finish the rest of his meal.

Later that evening, after watching television with Uncle Hiro, Aunt Yuki called him into the bedroom.

"It is time for bed, sweetheart," said Aunt Yuki as she was preparing his bed. "I have also arranged your nightwear."

He was surprised when he saw his attire. It was a pink nightgown with a rainbow unicorn on it. Next to it were a pair of panties. He gave Aunt Yuki a strange look.

"Aunt Yuki, I am not trying to be rude, but aren't these girls' clothes." He questioned her.

She flushed. "I am sorry for the arrangement. We had clothes ordered and delivered, but they were back ordered." She coughed. "I didn't care for the clothes that were left for you and I didn't want you to catch a cold, so I hope you didn't mind." She let out a little pout. "I hope that you are not offended."

He was taken aback. "I am not offended, but it is strange."

"I don't look at you as strange," she retorted. She reached for his face and rubbed his cheeks. "I see a sweet boy who is loving and accepting of anything, right?"

Lincoln sighed through his nose. "Yes, ma'am."

"Good," she said while smiling. "This is only for tonight. I promise that they will be here tomorrow. If not, then we will go shopping. It can be a girls' day out."

Lincoln raised his eyebrow when hearing the latter half of the sentence. Aunt Yuki took noticed and she bowed. "I am sorry, Lincoln." She closed the door and motioned Lincoln to sit next to the bed. "Can I tell you something"

"Yes, ma'am."

"We are so used to having a daughter that is a bit difficult to know how to raise a son."

"Yes, ma'am."

"We had always wanted a daughter. Your uncle used to pray day in and day out for one."

She closed her eyes before continuing the story. "Takako was the best thing that happened for the two of us. She is naturally perfect. She was perfect. She was savvy, intelligent, bright, and very creative. She was like an adult. She always did the right things and she always, always did what she could to make us proud."

Lincoln looked into her beady eyes. "How did your daughter died?"

She tucked her lip in. He knew that it was going to be difficult. He would be lucky if she gave him a response. "Cancer. Simple as that. It happened so fast. One day, she was dancing at a recital and suddenly, she collapsed. She was rushed to the hospital and the doctor diagnosed us with the news of it."

Lincoln watched as her hands were shaking along with her legs. "There was no time to prepare. She died quickly as soon as we could find proper treatment. It became a pain to my eyes. Not only mine but her dear father."

She began rubbing Lincoln's hair. "Hiro took it the hardest. I mentioned to you earlier about that, but it left a void in all of us; but with him, it was the deepest. Night after night, he cried our daughter's name into night. We screamed and lied in her bed. He wanted to gather any scent, any fragment of hair was left of her."

She looked at his pajamas. "We had such a hard time with her loss, that we were unable to let go. Then, suddenly, you came into our lives."

Lincoln gave her a blink stare.

"I don't like how the misfortune came from this, but at least there was a silver lining to it." She got up from the bed. "You remind us of our daughter. Obviously, you are not a girl. However, your aura gives us the feeling and the warmth of our dear Takako."

He continued staring at her as he was holding the clothing of their deceased daughter.

"Look at me becoming emotional," she said. "Just wear these tonight and tomorrow your proper clothes should be ready."

"Yes ma'am," said Lincoln.

She assisted Lincoln as he took off his clothes. He gave every article of clothing including his boxers. "Do I have to give you this as well?"

"Your boxers are tattered. I want you wearing clothes that are clean," she responded with absoluteness.

"Yes ma'am," he replied. She watched him put on their daughter's nightgown and their panties. She blushed at the sight.

"You know, you don't look half bad," she answered while giving a slight smirk. He blushed from the response.

"Let's get you ready for bed," she said as she put Lincoln into bed and then tucking him in.

"Tomorrow will be a great day," said Aunt Yuki as she pecked him on the forehead. "Good night."

"Good night," replied Lincoln.

She turned out the light switch before closing the door. Lincoln watched how the walls of the room transformed into glowy stars. There were glow-in-the-dark stars all over the bedroom. It gave him a pleasant feeling. At the same time, he was feeling unpleasant at the feeling of wearing panties. Its' softness made him feel funny around his penis. Also, the feeling of wearing a nightgown as well.

This has been the oddest thing I have experienced with this couple. I just hope that it is for tonight. Why am I too afraid to say 'no' when the timing is right?

He turned over and faced away from the door. He looked at the window. Another starry night sky in the city of Detroit. His final thoughts were on his sisters. He still pictured the day when Lori was talking with them on the front porch.

Calm down, our parents wouldn't like seeing us like this. But, we are going to be okay. This is temporary. This won't be long until everything gets straightened out. I know we now have to get ready for funeral arrangements, but this is only temporary. Okay?

Now, my eighteenth birthday is approaching. I am going to do my hardest to try getting you guys out of here. As soon as I can, I am going to grant custody for all of you. Until then, stay strong.

Stay strong.

Stay strong.

Stay strong.

"I promise to stay strong, Lori," he said to himself while trying his hardest to combat the tears. "Come get us soon."

Suddenly, the door opened. He saw a shadow, but he froze. He did not want to alert either of them of his crying. He heard heavy breathing, but couldn't distinguish whether it was Aunt Yuki or Uncle Hiro.

The door closed, but the presence remained in the room. It tiptoed a couple of steps before leaning over Lincoln.

He remained still, absolutely still. He felt the presence rubbing his hair. Then, he felt it rubbing his cheeks. Then, he flinched when feeling it rubbing his lips. And with each time he was touched, the breathing became heavier.

Then, he felt something on his head. He could tell that whatever it was, it was taking the presence some time to straighten it out.

My beautiful princess has returned to me.

Lincoln opened his eyes and was met with a hand covering his mouth.

"We need to be careful Takako, or else your mother finds out."

Lincoln's eyes widened when hearing the voice of Uncle Hiro.

"Shh! It's okay," said Uncle Hiro. "It's okay to do these kinds of things between father and daughter."

Chapter Text

There was a time when the only one that Clyde could describe his best friend under the definition of troubled. His time at Royal Woods High was uneasy for Lincoln Loud. Becoming rebellious, he refused to comply with any of the teachers, the counselors, or the administrators. He skipped class, smoked cigarettes, and had a small habit of stealing from stores. Lincoln spent more time under suspension and detention than being in class. Truancy officers were constantly looking for Lincoln. There was a time when Lincoln was seeing a counselor, but it came to end after he assaulted him.

Clyde began questioning Lincoln's parents on his behavior. It was met with the same answer. Lincoln was acting out and that was typical of a rebellious teenager.

He quickly developed a reputation of being an "asshole by nature." A moniker that Lincoln delightfully accepted and ran with it. Teachers looked at themselves as unfortunate when Lincoln Loud was on their roster. Despite the nicknames and feelings that many have for Lincoln, Clyde looked at him as one thing, a friend.

There wasn't a time when Clyde and Lincoln were apart. They went hand-in-hand like two dwarfs sitting in a hammock. They were the Butch and Sundance Kid of the block. They were ride-or-die brothers. Both relied on each other for support. They had each other's back. He couldn't imagine what life would have been without Lincoln being at his side. Through their turmoil, Lincoln appreciated Clyde's loyalty. At the same time, he knew that Lincoln's behavior was based on him acting out. As much as he knew of his best friend, he knew something went wrong with him. In the back of his mind, he had a gut feeling that the origin may be located on 1216 Franklin Avenue, Lincoln's home.

He snuck out of his bedroom after his parents went to bed. To induce their sleep, he sedated them with sleeping pills. Around that time, his parents became unsure about he and Lincoln's friendship. It got to a point where he wasn't allowed to go to Lincoln's house anymore. According to his father, there was something not right going on in the Loud household.

Clyde admitted that his father had every right to be filled with caution. Lately, a week didn't go by without the police being called to the Loud household. The stage was set when there were complications between mother and father. An endless shouting match between the pairs. Both parties continued arguing to the point when the Loud siblings no longer reacted. Once, when Clyde went to the house to hang out with Lincoln, he was met with Royal Woods Police Department. Even the cops weren't fazed by the endless calls being reported to the Loud House. He watched from the front yard where the siblings looked at the window. They were used being put on display for the neighborhood to see. The neighbors shook their heads or tended to their everyday duties. However that day, he saw another side of Lincoln.

Clyde was approaching the driveway before he saw Lincoln slapped his mother. The sisters watched in a state of shock when watching their brother laying his hands on his mother. His face, contorted in anger and frustration and red like a tomato. His eyes were reddened by the frustration of the argument. It was returned as the mother placed her hands around his neck. The cops diffused the situation by separating the pair. He had to walk away. He couldn't handle seeing his friend and the mother going into the police car.

That was the start of the last time going back to the Loud House.

He tried communicating with his friend, but his answer remained the same. "Clyde, there are some things that you don't need to get involved. You can't save everybody. Me, included." It hurt to see his friend spiraling downward. It was never like that. He always questioned what happened at the Loud House for Lincoln began thinking like that. What happened to the upbeat Lincoln? The jack-of-all-trades Lincoln? The reliable, always can count on Lincoln? It always concluded what Lincoln told him. It hurt to know that he couldn't help his friend.

He sat at the corner of Franklin and Garnet when he saw Old Girl flashing its lights at him. It was his signal to him without alerting the other residents or his father. Lincoln opened the door for Clyde as he got inside. He became astounded in disbelief when he saw Lincoln wearing hospital attire. When attempting to ask, he gave him the look that he wanted no explanation. Conforming to his terms, he put on his seatbelt and drove with his friend.

There was no conversation in the car. The sound of ConFunkShun's "Love's Train" was making the background noise. Lincoln drove through the neighborhood with much caution. He was always a careful driver. Never once getting a speeding ticket. But, it didn't mean that he had brushes with the law.

Clyde remained still, waiting for his friend handling the car with grace. Lincoln often compared taking care of his vehicle to a woman, thus nicknaming Old Girl. The pair continued on the road for about an hour before pulling over near the M-1 overpass.

He turned off the ignition and rested his head against the window. For a few minutes, there was a pregnant silence. It was sort of a pregnant silence for every now-and-again, the sound of sniffles filled the car. Clyde wanted to console him, to remind him that he has a friend remaining in his corner. However, he still couldn't escape what Lincoln had told him.

Lincoln told him in a raspy voice that he was planning to leave Royal Woods. He pulled down his robe and exposed the wound on his shoulder blade. Clyde quivered his lips. He knew there wasn't any one else by Lincoln's mother who accepted responsibility. Lincoln explained to Clyde that the town they were living in was a chasm of lies. A shell of its former shelf being replaced by a corrupted individual. As much Clyde wanted to talk, to convince his friend not to leave, his throat was too dry to answer. He nodded his head when necessary.

Lincoln put his hand on Clyde's shoulder, telling him that he was thankful to have one remaining friend in his corner. He reached into the backseat and gave him his walkie talkie. Clyde's cheeks became flushed and were trying his hardest to combat the tears. Finally, Clyde asked him on where he was going. Lincoln told him that he was going to "parts unknown." He watched Lincoln rested his head on the steering wheel. He gripped it tightly as he, too, was trying his hardest to fight his tears. Clyde knew that there was plenty of things hitting Lincoln at once. He just lost his father. There was an incident between his mother.

He was recently released from probation. Clyde promised Lincoln to not explain the incident that led him to his probation. It involved him and Ronnie Anne. Lincoln's reason of his action, revenge.

Lincoln told Clyde that there were things in Royal Woods that were going to bring it to its downfall. When Clyde asked about those "things," Lincoln never answered. He didn't want to answer. Clyde knew whatever it was, it was killing him inside and may have been the reason for his wound. Through the teary eyes, he told Clyde that he need to leave Royal Woods. Through the muffled sounds, he was begging him to convince his parents to leave. He said that a floodgate of woe was going to infest the town.

Never once did Clyde questioned him. Even in his heart, he knew there was a change in the town. And being a sleepy town, many of the residents was going to keep things to themselves. He told Lincoln that he would do what he can, but no promises. Lincoln smiled before taking Clyde back to his house. He hugged Clyde and thanked him for being his friend. Clyde watched Lincoln drive away.

That was the last time he had seen Lincoln. It wasn't until years later when they reunited at the airport bar in Chicago.

Even as they talked, he couldn't help but think about those dire words that Lincoln spoke to him in the car. There were things that was going to bring Royal Woods to his downfall. Prophetically spoken, Lincoln, thought Clyde to himself.

Chapter Text

I think too much. I quell myself with so many thoughts that I am incapable of producing anymore. Does it make sense? Of course not. It is like a factory plant continuing to reproduce, but it is becoming jammed because there is no one there to take it away and distribute them. I am at a point on when should I give a damn about the raucous that occurs. Why do you care? Why should you care? All you care about is to watch and see what happens to me. It kills me inside knowing that I am only valuable when put on display. I am not an animal. I am not someone that should be observed at your leisure. Holding your cell phones, taking pictures for keepsakes that are buried among other keepsakes from previous endeavors. Are you even sure you even look at those images after watching me? I look like a fool and it is forever saved in your gallery. A gallery that has other things that you keep until you have a new phone and that too, becomes abandoned like me.

Yeah, I am calling you guys out. The nerve of you to watch me suffer for the sake of your own pleasure. Insidious, sickening to the heart, to the soul, and to what is ever left of my dim-lit spirit. It hurts me, it kills me. But, you guys don't care. All you care is to fulfill whatever gains you can get from me. To have a false illusion that you feel sorry for me. You look at me with pity, then walk away and talk to your spouse about the weather and whatever small talk to not give a single thought of me.

Then, yet again, I think too much.

I sit here in the bedroom watching television. Matter of fact, the television watches me. I sit there staring at the ceiling as I ask myself if there will be a tomorrow. I was told in church that tomorrow is never promised. Then why in the hell to wait on Sunday if my inevitable is before me? Will I make it to a Sunday? Will something happen before then? Can a semi-truck hit my car I am siting in? Can I get shot? Kidnapped? Heart attack? I doubt that latter, I am still in school. Very age to have any fragile health. Then yet again, I think too much. I was told by my father that stress is a killer. Could my stress induce a heart attack?

I often hope so.

I think too much. Maybe because I can't convey my feelings very well. Maybe because society doesn't really give a damn about it. Many people are becoming lovers of themselves. So, I am not that surprised that people are only focusing on themselves. The days of peace, joy, love, and community is dead. More of the technologically calluses of our fingers digging deep into our cellular devices, tablets, and the like fill the void of our pitiful despair.

It's your fault that I feel this way. Society created this. You created this. Sometimes, does it hurt to just put the fucking devices down and talk for a change? Does it kill you to just shut the fuck down and pick up a book? Does it hurt to read a book or go outside and fill the kindred nature? Nothing wrong of soaking up the sun and get what mother nature wants to give you.

No, you don't. Too lazy. I don't care. I am entitled. What does nature do for me? These self-entitled comments really piss me off. Just caught in the world of yourself. Well, fuck you. Fuck what you think. Fuck every single idea that came out of your pompous mind.

You seek recognition, but aren't willing to cross the street for it? This society that I am living in disgust me? So many why me's, not enough why you's. Trust me, if there were a country full of myself. People who want to make a change. People who is sick and tired of the detritus that world is given us. Where are our standards? Our expectations? Have we gone that fucking lazy that we settle for less? Well, if I were involved in this debacle, shit will get done.

It will be Darwinian.

That is it. That is the shot. The spark in my brain that is manifesting within. The healing of my sickening mind. Why not be like Darwin? The survival of the fittest. Why not? Why not? Why not? Why not carve what he crave? Why not eat and ingest what he desired.

It is a lot better of where I am living in. Then yet again, I think to my readers who are will look at this and think, is this woman crazy? Does she need to seek professional help? Does she need to talk to someone? She needs a friend.

Then why in the hell am I writing this manifesto then, bitch? That cynical bullshit is the reason how I am getting in this fucking predicament, you asshole. Counseling, am I insane, friends? If these were offered to me, then do you think I wouldn't be here.

How about helping me. Lead me the way. Tell me what I need to do so I can move forward. But no, you won't. "I am too caught up." "I am too busy." "How about another time." Excuses after excuses after excuses to think you were being a hero to me.

I love with a person gives out suggestions. Better yet, I love when a person gives me orders without taking responsibility.

I am sick of talking. What does talking do for me? Replications of words to fill sentences and thoughts. Well, I am the girl who is planning for action.

Actions speak better anyway. Why? Because they know you are nothing to fuck with. That is when one folds and submits. I am laughing as I am writing this in my diary of sparkles and glitter. A fair contrast on how I am feeling, rage.

Next to me is my main supply. Because if the law read this, I won't release the name of this instrument. However, I can attest after practicing is that if will be interesting to watch it enter your carbon composition.

Like God told Jesus, the day nor the time nor the hour won't be released. It will come to a spark like the day it entered my brain.

I lied in bed after another day of brand new fresh hell. It hit me. It did. I laughed. That was the only reaction I can get. It is a better substitute for anger.

I have a plan. I can't quite it is foolproof, but it is going to get messy. Really, really messy. Plenty of people's lives are going to change from this.

Can't quite say it is going to be for the better or for the worse.

Yet again, just like your pompous, self-entitled lifestyle, gain some perspective on it. It may change your life. Or not, couldn't give a damn anymore. I really don't.

There is a checklist I have to do before my plan of natural selection comes to order. I have my instruments ready. They are hidden in plain sight. I am okay. My mother is such a ditz that she doesn't check my mind.

My room, I meant. But, both can apply, tee hee.

Anyway, my checklist. The first is to solve my 11 problems. I will leave it at that. 11 problems that are going to be cleansed. I can't say they are the source of my behavior, but they need to be made examples out of. The research I predict that will be studied for many generations to come.

I do have one accomplice to the matter. Rather he wanted it or not, he is in it. I like him. He is such a saint. Not too bad of a person. Why corrupt this saint, you ask? He too needs to be cleansed on how gullible he hides himself from the real world. As I once put my blunt instrument to his temple, he sweared as he urinated on himself that he wouldn't tell of my, our intentions.

I believed him. We played a private game afterward. The first time we both experienced our womanhood and manhood.

Also, it served as blackmail. I am sorry, but hell, why do you care. You readers are still wanting to know about my agenda. No one wants to confine themselves into prying deeper. Everybody wants something right now. Immediately, today, or else they are not reading.

Well, fuck you with your impatient ass. You know what, I am sorry of that rant. That wasn't called for. It doesn't matter because you are going to be witnesses on what I am planning to do.

But, first I have to solve my 11 problems.

Before I sign off on this, I will briefly explain on what I will do following my absolving of my cleanse. Me and my accomplice are taking our father's car to an institution for higher knowledge.

It is there where psychology, sociology, science, physics, math, and abundance of subjects are going to be put to the test.

Quite an assessment to see if they have learned something from their place of higher learning.

Higher learning.

Yeah, I like that.

That is what I am going to call this manifest of mine. Higher Learning.

The higher learning of Lucy Loud.

Lucy Loud and the subject of higher learning of natural selection in America.

Lucy Loud: the martyr for Darwin and the teacher of natural selection.

I am just going to call it Higher Learning for now.

I will leave that for the media and the police to decide. I am now going to negate these thoughts. Don't when we I plan to strike, but it is going to happen. Like days follows night and night follows day. When I say something, I will do it. May not be today, tomorrow, but it is happening.

However, I have some stress to alleviate. I am turning from my desk and see my accomplice tied to the bed. He looks at me with anguish cries. I come to the bed where he is clothed in nakedness. I lightly stroke his cheek, tasting his tears. He has eyes of a puppy, begging me to stop my acts.

I shake my head. He should be begging for me to not stop taking advantage of his manhood again. Where he is going when we are finished, there won't be much of that. My parents aren't home. No one is.

Seeing his panicked stricken face gives me the pleasure. Why not? I must have some kind of feeling of life before completing my manifesto.

Since you all are witnesses and he is with me, it is our manifesto.

Come now, Lincoln. Let's not be this way. I promise I won't hurt you much. If you obey me, then I promise I won't be as rough on you.

No, no, no, don't look at me like that. Stop that now, big brother.

Do I really need to tie that gag tighter around your mouth?

That is what I thought. Quiet and docile, very good.

If you can withstand my love, then I will reduce our time tonight, okay?

Then yet again, I have a lot of tension to release. So forget what I have said.

Here I come.

Chapter Text

The sun was bearing heavily on Lincoln as he wiped the sweat from his forehead with his arm. He looked in agony when making the regrettable decision of helping Mrs. DiMartino with her swimming pool.

He dropped the brush as he looked at the scum, algae, and dirt littering the pool. The pool was wide as an olympic-sized pool, Lincoln thought to himself. In his mind, it would take hours, if not the whole weekend to clean the pool. He sighed as he knew it was a challenge he asked of her. Also, he was doing the task alone.

"Everything okay, Linc," asked Ms. DiMartino as she looked from her patio balcony.

Lincoln looked to his wonder as she was wearing a red two piece bikini that hugged her in all of the right places. Judging of the swimwear, he knew it had to be imported. What was amazing was to see his teacher's bronze side. Her hair was flowing in the air. Amazing look for her, especially if there wasn't any wind.

"I'm okay," replied Lincoln. He was lying, but couldn't admit to telling the truth. He wanted to go home. He was tired of being in the heat. But, her beauty was hindering his better judgement. In the end, his hormones was the champion. "Just taking a break."

"That is fine, my dear," she said. "When you are finished with the three-foot part, come inside and wash up for lunch. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am," he answered while giving a thumbs up. She turned away from the balcony and Lincoln returned back to the task at hand. He cursed himself and his classmates for not making their end of the bargain.

I thought all of you were coming. You said it wasn't every day for a hot teacher wanting our assistance. There was a chance we were going to see boob. Maybe she offer us some extra credit. What a bunch of cowards and wimps.

He grabbed the brush and resumed his work.

Earlier in the week, the very attractive popular substitute teacher asked for assistance of helping her with her swimming pool. She offered those that help some money and an opportunity to swim in her pool. Of course, the boys drooled of the thought of seeing her in a bikini. Why not? She was one of the most, if not the only, attractive teacher in their school. Lincoln knew of the incentives and excitedly raised his hand in anticipation.

After school, the invitation to Ms. DiMartino was the talk of the school. Whispers and murmurs of the intended weekend was looming through the ears of the boys and the girls. It was passed through notes in class. It was talked about through email and social networks.

It was definitely a topic during gym class. Coincidentally, it was sexual education week and the boys were drooling with intent of the hint of seeing a woman's private part. Lincoln and his male classmates sat with excitement in the crowded classroom as the teacher showed images of a woman's private part. Because of the conditions of the state's progression on sexual awareness, schools were given permission to show the anatomy of humans in graphic detail. Lincoln didn't want to think about the multitudes of hard-on's coming from the boys in the room. It was already looming in testosterone. He was also cringing because he, too, was thinking of sex.

Talking about sex wasn't quite as taboo in the Loud House. He had overheard his parents discussing with his older sisters. He was well-acknowledged that all of them were given condoms and other contraceptives. He had heard many stories of Lori's sexual conquest with Bobby. And he didn't have to be present to know about it. He heard it from Ronnie Anne whenever her parents worked the late shift and her brother and Lori took advantage. He knew about Leni having sex, but she wasn't as discreet as Lori. He chuckled when Leni was caught having sex with her classmate while her bedroom door was still opened. She was grounded for quite some time.

As he sat there watching the anatomy of a vagina, he heard the rumor mill discussing the idea of it belonging to Ms. DiMartino. Like a bolt of electricity, the idea struck him. The vagina was brown and bronze, the same color of Ms. DiMartino, maybe. His eyes glazed as he look with awestruck. He wondered on what wonders could it do and what he could do with it.

Then, that embarrassing moment happened. One of his classmates pointed at Lincoln's erection. The class cornered him. He was centered as they stared in undying amusement. It didn't helped that his teacher turned on the lights. He became a laughing stock that day.

That night, he still couldn't get the idea of Ms. DiMartino out of his head. What did she look like outside of her clothes? In her bra? In her panties? Naked? Then, the tingling feeling of an erection came. Not being familiar with masturbation, he became scared of his new discovery. Instead of talking with his parents, he tried going to bed; trying his hardest not to think about.

The day before their visit, the boys were gathering under the bleachers outside. Many of them, including Lincoln, were talking about the ideas on what they would do with Ms. DiMartino.

I hope she is wearing a bikini.

Let's drop something so we can give her an excuse to bend over.

Let's get her into an "accident" where she loses her top.

Just being there is enough to pop my top with her.

I think Lincoln already had the privilege of that.

Lincoln turned red from the sudden outcome, but it quickly went away when one of the boys decided that they were going to take pictures of their beautiful brown substitute teacher.

Take a picture in her bikini? That is a great idea!

I saw it in a manga that I read. Imagine what kind of killing we can make?

Dude, we can make some funds. Serious coins.

Yeah, many boys throughout Royal Woods wouldn't mind popping their tops from Ms. DiMartino.

We should sell them for $15 a pop.

$15? Aren't you crazy. She is a goddess. I am selling these babies for $29.95.

As many bickered back and forth between pictures and prizes, Lincoln was still thinking on what would Ms. DiMartino would be wearing. More importantly, the image of a vagina still loomed in his brain. Once again, it gave him an itching feeling in his pants. He excused himself from the group and spent the rest of the afternoon in the nurse's office.

The day of the invitation, Lincoln was ready. Just in case he doesn't face embarrassment from his peers, he wore loose clothing. His shirt was loose and his swimming trunks were very baggy. He was going to make sure that he wasn't going to embarrass himself with any surprising boners.

As he stepped out the front door, he received a text from one of his peers.

Dude, we have a problem. There are a lot of us that can't make it there. Either our parents can't take us or we are not allowed to go.

He texted back.

That sucks. That is too bad. It sucks that I am doing this by myself. But, I will let you know what happened after I am finished.

He got a response back.

Actually, we have a favor of you to ask. We know this isn't your nature, but please, Lincoln. For the great good of men and men everywhere.

He texted back.

What is it?

He got a response.

Take some pictures for us of Ms. DiMartino. Please, dude, we are begging you. If you take some pictures, we will leave you alone of your boners and we will get you a parts of the proceed of our pictures.

He frowned at the response.

I am not going to do that. Then, she will think I am the pervert.

He got another text.

Please, dude, we are begging you. If you do this, then we promised not to bother you again. We will do whatever you want. Hell, we even take credit. Just please, please, PLEASE do this.

Lincoln did a loud audible sigh.

If I do this, then you won't bother me?

He got a response.

Scout's honor. I promise. On my mother. Please, we will leave you alone.

Lincoln sighed. He began texting.

Okay, I will do this. After that, I am done. Then, you must promise not to pick on me again.

He got another text.

I promise.

Lincoln swallowed nothing but fear as he knew that he was not only going to represent the class for cleaning her swimming pool. He was also going to serve as the photographer for the class's gravure. Or their personal spank bank, he thought to himself. He frowned knowing he was now part of the guilty party.

Once clearing the algae of the three foot part of the pool with bleach and pool solution, he rested on the steps. Judging from the shadow of the chair, he had to be working for a least a couple of hours. Seeing the depth and the width of the pool, this was only the beginning of the hard work.

I am starting to think why she asked us, boys, to do. Cheap labor? Then yet again, does she know?

He suspected from time to time if she knew if she was the object of the boys' affection, Lincoln included.

No, she wouldn't. As beautiful as she is, she must have a husband. Or at least a boyfriend.

"Lincoln."

His thoughts were interrupted when hearing Ms. DiMartino calling his name from the patio.

"Come inside and cool off," said Ms. DiMartino with a smile. "I also made lunch for us as well."

"Yes, ma'am," answered Lincoln.

He got from the top and walked into her house.

Her house wasn't a big house. It was rather a small cottage. It gave him quite a garden-like feeling. Rose bushes and magnolia trees filled the cottage with an alluring smell. With the treatment of the foliage, he knew that Ms. DiMartino took care of her garden. He entered the kitchen and sat at the kitchen table. At that time, Ms. DiMartino was covered in a beach towel. However, her top remained exposed. She came from the microwave and passed him their lunch.

"It isn't much, but something as a token of my appreciation," she said with a warm smile.

It was spaghetti with Mexican cornbread. Not a particular favorite of Lincoln's, but he appreciated the effort that Ms. DiMartino made for such a hard, tedious request. He smiled as he took a bite of her food. It wasn't bad, he thought. It could have used a little seasoning, he added. He ate the meal while she was taking a bite.

Lincoln noticed how delicate she was eating. It appeared that she took pride on her appearance.

"You did a great job on lunch, Ms. D," he said in between bites.

She wiped her face with her napkin. "Thanks, Lincoln," she said. "It is the least I can do to show you how much I appreciate this."

"Anytime," mentioned Lincoln.

"I don't get much help from others," she said. "I tend to keep to myself. It is not easy living by yourself in Royal Woods."

He was now aware of her having no relatives in Royal Woods. He decided to ask her a personal question.

"Where are you from," asked Lincoln.

"I am from Spain," she replied. "But, I grew up in the Dominican Republic and then moved back to Spain in high school."

"So, you are Spanish," asked Lincoln.

"Partially correct," she said. "I am from Spain, but my family comes from Peru and Italy."

"That explains your surname," said Lincoln.

She giggled. "Yes, sir. But, I mostly identify with my Peruvian heritage."

"That is awesome," he said. "I have another question. Pardon me, if it sounds rude."

"Ask away, Lincoln," she said with another smile. "You have always been a modest child."

"Okay," he said while swallowing. "Are you...are you...are you in a relationship?"

Lincoln was frozen in fear of his question. Ms. DiMartino gave him a blank stare, but returned to a warm smile. "Surprised a young boy your age is even thinking of relationships."

He shook his head. "It wasn't that. It was...it was just curious is all."

She flicked his nose. "Oh, poor, poor Pinocchio." She rubbed her face. "You aren't the first boy that asked." She put her napkin down. "Yeah, I am single."

Lincoln relaxed his shoulders. "Okay, just wondering is all." He stepped from the table. "I think I am going to get back to work." He bowed. "Thank you for lunch, Ms. D."

"No problem," she replied with a warm, gentle smile. "Glad to be of service."

He returned back to the pool where he continued working on parts of the swimming pool. He continued working until he began noticing the sun began disappearing from the horizon. As he was stepping out of the pool, he caught sight of Ms. DiMartino. No longer was she wearing her two-piece. She replaced with a plain white T-shirt and short jeans. Seeing her hair in a ponytail was beautiful, he thought. Not only that, seeing her wearing revealing clothing as it hugged her was becoming too much. He was fortunate that his clothes were covering his boner.

"Lincoln," she said as she walking to his direction. "I just got a call from your mother. She wants you home right now."

"What about the pool," questioned Lincoln.

She put her hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. Come back tomorrow and you can continue."

He shook his head as he was going to his bike.

"Lincoln?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Can you come a little bit earlier tomorrow. There is something I need help with in the house and it is going to require some assistance. Is that okay?"

He nodded his head in agreement. "No problem, Ms. D. I am happy to be of service."

"Thank you, Lincoln," she said. "Good night."

"Good night, Ms. D."

She continued waving to him until he saw her away from his sight. As he walked with his bike back to his house, he realized he forgot to do his photography task. He put his head down.

"Tomorrow is Sunday. I have no choice but to do it then."

Chapter Text

Lincoln was the first to wake up on this particular Sunday morning. At the Loud House, Sunday was more of a reserved day when the family spends the day together. Fortunately, he told his parents in advance of the upcoming day. Although they were not happy about him missing out on their weekly ritual, they understood that it was for a good cause. Lincoln blushed how his mother finds him very responsible of doing a good deed. His father as well was approving of his responsibility. Although proud of the compliments, his feelings remained contrasted. Mostly because the undercurrent of his return to Ms. DiMartino.

As he got his bike from his garage to make the thirty minutes trek to 's house, he tried his best to keep his intentions pure. He was going to help Ms. DiMartino with the swimming pool and some additional help. There was no intention of catching her in compromising positions without her permission. There were no intentions of taking risque photos of his substitute teacher in lieu of peer pressure and avoidance of future teasing. There was zero chance. He could fill a book of excuses and still wouldn't fill the volume of his ill intent.

Go to her house. Take care of her responsibilities. If the opportunity arises, take a picture of her. Just one, then I can give it to those boys and I can move on with my life. Yeah, one thing. Even Saints have committed sins at some point in their life.

As much he wanted to convince himself or find excuses of any wrongdoing, it was too late to further think as his bike made it to the driveway of her cottage. He decided upon himself to come over around eight in the morning. Although a bit early for some, he hoped that it was suitable enough to take care of his business. Also, with summer looming, temperatures began rising. He looked to the sky as if he waiting for a sign of divine intervention.

He didn't get that chance. He heard the front door opened.

"Lincoln, I didn't expect you to come this early," answered Ms. DiMartino.

His eyes widened when he saw his substitute teacher wearing nothing but a bathrobe. It wasn't just the bathrobe that got his attention. It was how it hugged around her. It wrapped, rather enveloped tightly around areas where it counted the most. Once again, he was very fortunate of wearing the same clothes from yesterday; or else Ms. DiMartino would have seen something else stirring in the early morning.

"I am sorry," replied Lincoln. "If you want me to, I can wait out here until you are ready."

She put her hand to her lip. "What do you think I am, a master mistreating her servant?" She extended her hand. "Come on in. I am in the middle of breakfast."

He nodded his head. He went to the side of the house where he dropped off his bike. As he was returning to the front door, he received a text.

Good morning, bro. Just checking up on any updates of our debut gravure.

Lincoln hit his head in frustration. He texted back.

Give me a few hours. I will let you know then.

He turned off his phone, ensuring that he wouldn't get any disturbance until the deed was done. In his back pocket, he had a camera that he borrowed from his younger sister, Lola. The night before, she asked on why he wanted to borrow her camera. His response was for research. She shrugged as she gave it to him, promising that he returned it when he came home.

He entered the cottage as he caught scent of breakfast coming from the kitchen. A familiar scent of home as he entered the kitchen he had lunch the previous day. He saw her cooking on the stove.

"Have a seat," she told Lincoln before turning around to the stove. Lincoln sat where he saw that she already had plates set. It was surprising because she said that she wasn't expecting him. Yet, she already had things ready for two people. He tried not to let it discern him.

"Were you expecting company," asked Lincoln.

She turned. "What was that, dear?"

"I saw that you already had dishes set out. Just wondering is all."

She chuckled. "I always do that. It is just a habit of mine is all."

"Any particular reason?"

She put her finger to a lip with curiosity. "Nope, just because." She changed the subject. "Now, do you want your bacon with toast or English muffin?"

Knowing that she wasn't going any further with it, he shook it off. "English muffin."

After breakfast, Lincoln went to the bathroom where he washed his hands. He found it convenient that it was directly across from the kitchen. As he was washing his hands, he heard Ms. DiMartino calling his name.

"When you are finished, can you help me in the other room," she asked. "It is about that favor I told you about yesterday, remember?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Lincoln as he was finishing washing his hands. He reached for the towel to dry off. He was going to leave until something caught his eye. On the shower rod, he saw a pair of pantyhose hanging. It wasn't his first seeing pantyhose; living in a house of women accustomed him to it, but it was because it belonged to Ms. DiMartino.

He gulped as he tiptoed to the hanging garment on the shower rod. Lincoln felt how soft it was. It reminded him of silk or petting a very soft animal. He held it for a moment, cradling it like it was a small child. The more he held, the more of the temptation that was occurring downstairs in his loins.

That itching feeling is returning, he thought with hesitation. He let out a small gasp, especially when smelling a faint scent coming from the undergarment. Without giving it a second thought, he inhaled the faint smell. He shuddered when smelling the faint scent that he believed had to be lilac or lavender. The itch in his loins continued, which left him with a confused feeling.

"Lincoln, what is taking so long," questioned Ms. DiMartino.

"Sorry," replied Lincoln as he returned back to reality. "Had to take a number one."

"Okay, be quick, will you," replied Ms. DiMartino.

He quickly returned the pantyhose on the shower rod. He turned out the lights to the bathroom and headed for Ms. DiMartino.

He went through the hallway where he was hearing Ms. DiMartino.

"I am in here, Lincoln," said Ms. DiMartino. Lincoln went to the source where he found her. It didn't take much of a genius to realize that he was in her bedroom. It was very lavish, he thought. Everything appeared antique, leaving him with a 19th century feeling. He walked through the bedroom until he saw her in the closet.

"I am here," said Lincoln.

"Good," replied Ms. DiMartino. "I am going to need your help with this box in the closet." Lincoln stared as he saw her straining herself on what it looked to him like a soapbox. "This box is very heavy. Normally, I ask my neighbor to do it, but he is out of town."

"Yes, ma'am," he said. "What do I need to do?"

"I want you to stand behind me. I am going to reach for the box. When I grab the first side, grab the other," said Ms. DiMartino. "It is not that bad. It will be a piece of kelp."

He shook his head as he went to assist her. He watched as she went and grab the box. However, his mouth became agape when seeing her bathrobe rising above her thighs. Her thighs looked smooth and creamy. It reminded him of caramel. He saw the robe continued rising until got a small slight of her panties. His hands were trembling. His mouth was quivering. His breath was labored. Most of all, his pants began itching again.

"I am also ready for you, Lincoln," said Ms. DiMartino while straining. "Be in contact when I give you the signal."

"Yes, ma'am," replied Lincoln. As his eyes focused on her panties, it had hit him that this could be the opportunity to take a picture of Ms. DiMartino. With his hands trembling, he fumbled for his camera. Hands, sweating and still shaking, was aiming for the perfect position.

"Lincoln, I am about ready."

Here is the snapshot.

"On the count of three, get it."

"One"

One

"Two"

Two

"Three"

Three

Lincoln flashed the camera, which made Ms. DiMartino lose her vision. She lunged the box on his chest, which made Lincoln lose his balance and land on the ground. The impact made him lose his breath. At the same time, Ms. DiMartino fell from her soapbox and landed on top of Lincoln.

Upon her landing, Lincoln tried to sit up, but his face landed in front of her panties. They were red and soft. He caught a whiff of her womanly aroma and a bolt of electricity occurred in his pants. He trembled throughout his body as the wave of this newfound feeling was occurring. Eventually, it stopped.

"Oh, my God," cried Ms. DiMartino as she got off of Lincoln. "Are you okay?"

Lincoln stared as he saw Ms. DiMartino looking at him. He watched as her face turned from concerned to frustration when she walked beside him. She kneeled over and took the camera from his hand. He flushed as she looked at the camera, scanning the images of what he took.

She put the camera down and faced Lincoln. Many things were going through his mind. But, he was focused on what he done that tears were forming in his eyes.

"Lincoln," she said with a hint of anger in her voice. "What is this?"

He remained quiet.

"If you were smart right now, then I suggest you start answering."

He kept silent.

She placed her hands on her hips. "Are you really going to test my patience?"

He shook his head in disagreement.

"Then answer my question."

Lincoln wanted to explain, but he was very embarrassed on what he did.

"Ok, have it your way," she said as she got up and was leaving her bedroom. "I think I can get a better answer from your parents."

Lincoln got up and ran to her direction. "Please, please, not my parents."

She continued walking to the living room where she had left her cell phone. "It is too late to talk. You had your chance. Now, it is time to tell your parents."

Lincoln extended his hands, grabbing her bathrobe. "Please, please I will talk. I will talk."

She pushed him off of her and proceeded to her cell phone.

Lincoln began wailing as he begged to her on his knees. "I will talk," he said in between sobs. "I will talk. It is a camera. I took a picture because of the other students. They told me if I took a picture, then they will leave alone. Please, don't call my mom. Please, don't. I don't want to get in trouble. I don't want you to hurt me." He continued as tears and snot were coming in all directions of his face.

Ms. DiMartino stared at her cell phone before realizing a strong, audible sigh. She dropped her cell phone and kneeled toward Lincoln.

She sighed away. "Go to the bathroom and wash up. When you are finished, meet me in the living room. We are going to have a talk."

He shook his head as he went to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he returned to the bathroom where she was waiting in the living room. However, she was wearing her bathrobe. She was wearing a plain white t-shirt and blue capris. Her legs were crossed and she appeared disappointed.

"Sit," she said as she pointed her finger on the couch next to her.

He nodded his head as he sat next to Ms. DiMartino. Many things were going on in his mind.

Is she going to tell my parents?

Will she bring this to the school?

What would my parents think of me being a pervert?

Will it spread to the others?

I will look like the bad guy.

She hates me. Ms. D hates me. I don't want her to hate me. I am sorry. I am sorry.

Ms. DiMartino continued to stare at the wall in front of her. It was silence for a few minutes. After a moment, she broke the silence.

"I can't quite say I am surprised that these things were going to happen to me," she said. "I just didn't expect it to come from you."

"Ms. D, I can…," said Lincoln before she gave him a look of silence. He followed suit.

"I know that school life is hard. Trust me, I see it myself being a sub to you guys," she said before turning to him. "I am very disappointed to know that you of all people who sink this low."

Hearing that was making him swell in tears. "I am sorry," he mouthed.

"I know you are," she replied while looking away. "But, still you did what you did."

"Please, Ms. D," he said. "I am sorry. Please don't feel that way. I don't want you to hate me."

She turned to Lincoln. "I never said that I hate you. I will never hate you, Lincoln." She turned away. "However, I am unhappy with you and very disappointed."

He tilted his head down, trying his best to fight the tears. "I understand, Ms. D. I am sorry. Look, I understand that you don't want to be around me. I think I should go."

"Where do you think you are going," asked Ms. DiMartino with a serious tone. "You are not going anywhere."

Lincoln gave her a confused look. She placed her hands on her hips.

"Just because I decided not to inform your parents or the school doesn't mean you leave scot-free," she said. "You are still going to be punished."

Ms. DiMartino stood up and faced Lincoln. No longer did she had the appearance of a teacher or a family friend, but the appearance of her angry parent.

"Pull down your pants," she commanded Lincoln.

"What," he asked with bewilderment. Not only it was because of her strange request, but knowing the risk he had urinated on himself in his pants.

"Are you testing me, again," said Ms. DiMartino angrily.

"No, ma'am," replied Lincoln.

"Okay," said Ms. DiMartino. "Now pull them down."

Lincoln strained as he reached for his pants. He unzipped his pants. He turned away from her as he put down his pants.

"Everything," she said.

He swallowed nothing as he continued to pull down his boxers. Feeling the breeze of his penis, he struggled to cover himself with his shirt.

"Alright, now put your hands to the back of the couch," she told him.

He shook his hand and put it to the back of the couch.

"Good," she said. "Now, stand still. Don't you dare move. Understand?"

"Yes ma'am," he said.

"I don't like doing this, Lincoln," she said with sincerity. "But, you did this charade and I can't let you run away with that. Despite that you were under peer pressure, it doesn't make it right. Hopefully, what I am about to give you will help you not to do it again."

Lincoln heard the sound of a buckle touching the floor. He slightly turned around and saw that she had a belt.

"Because I am a lenient person, I am going to give your five lashing," she said. "This hurts me more than anything. I hope you will learn from this Lincoln Loud."

She made the first lash.

Lincoln wailed when hearing the sound of the belt hitting his butt.

"That's one," she said. "That's it, let it out. Trust me that it hurts doing this as well."

She made the second lash.

Lincoln screamed so loudly that his voice began crackling. "I am sorry," he cried. "I am sorry."

"I am sorry, too, my dear," she said. "That makes two. You are doing an excellent job of your punishment. It is almost over. Just remain still."

She made the third lash.

"It's okay, Lincoln," she said. "Let it out. It is okay to cry. You are on number three. We are over halfway. Just stay strong for me."

She made the fourth lash.

Lincoln was feeling heavy. He was lying on the couch. Tears continued dripping from his eyes.

"That makes four," she said. "Just one more and your punishment will be over." She got closer to him. "Understand that you will have to learn your lesson. I don't like it when boys like you get influenced."

Lincoln closed his eyes as she made the fifth and final lash at him.

He clenched his teeth in agony as the final lashing was stronger than the last one. He fell head first to the couch. The wave of pain coming from his butt was looming. No longer did he wanted to be there. He wanted to go home. Away from Ms. D, away from the classmates, anywhere other than being with her.

She came and sat next to Lincoln. While his face was lying on the cushion, she rubbed through his hair. "I am sorry," she said. "I did not want this to happen, but you understand, don't you?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied weakly.

She sighed. "I have some medicine with me. Allow me to rub it on your wounds."

Lincoln felt her soft hands applying the medicine on his wounds. He felt her rubbing thoroughly. Throughout that time, feeling her hands on his butt was returning the feeling he was having in his loins.

"That is enough," she said. She kissed his cheek while helping him put on his clothes. "Pain, pain, fly away," she said. Lincoln sniffled as she was putting on his pants.

"I am sorry," he replied quietly.

"I know you are," she said.

A few minutes later, Lincoln left her cottage through the patio and was going for his bike. As he was going to her driveway, Ms. DiMartino called out to him.

"Lincoln?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Come back next week," she said. "The pool still needs assistance. I don't mind paying you for some assistance around the house." She had the camera in her hand. "Also, you owe me."

Lincoln shook his head in agreement, but at the same time out of nothing more to say.

"Tell your buddies that if they want to face suspension, not to pull that stunt again," she said. "And the same goes for you."

She returned his camera. She left him without saying another word. Lincoln put the camera back into his pocket and headed back home.

That night, Lincoln was lying in his bed reading a manga. He lied on his back without having to feel any pain from what happened earlier in the day. He was getting ready for bed until he received a text from his phone.

I hope it is not those fools again. I thought I told them that it failed.

He got out of his bed and reached for his cell phone. It came from Ms. DiMartino.

Checking to make sure that your butt is feeling better. Since we did things we weren't supposed to do, let's call it even. I will see you around in school. Also, be sure to come see me next weekend.

-Ms. D

He put the phone down and returned to his bed. Then, he had heard another text.

It was a picture of Ms. DiMartino in her bathrobe, but she was exposing her red panties.

For your eyes only, said the text.

As he was looking, he received another text. It was an image of him getting spanked by Ms. DiMartino.

For my eyes only, said the text. Now we are even. I think we should be smart on our next move, don't you ;)

Lincoln was feeling the itch in his pants again. Deciding to overlook it, he got ready for bed. As he lied in bed, he kind of smiled. Although the day he had wasn't the best. In a way, it gave him perspective on his substitute teacher, Ms. DiMartino.

"Amelia," he said to himself as he called out the first name of Ms. DiMartino.

He closed his eyes and prepared for the upcoming day at school. Of course, he knew to expect from his peers. Of course, he was going to feel strange when seeing his teacher. Regardless, he was excited more for the upcoming weekend. Too bad it won't be for another six days.

Chapter Text

It wasn't every day that Lincoln was able to visit his grandparents. His paternal grandparents lived in rural Idaho where there were more animals than humans. It was the place where his father called home. It is also the place where Lincoln plans to spend his summer. His decision was because he wanted to know more about his family. He knew enough of his sisters and his maternal side, but never enough about his paternal side. To his father's conclusion, it was because they were very simple minded people. It wasn't an insult, but they kept to themselves. Be as it may, it was his decision to leave Royal Woods to explore the quaint, rural Idaho wilderness.

He quietly prayed and was relieved that his grandparents did not live near Ruby Ridge.

Lincoln sat in the backseat of the van while his grandparents were taking him on the only road that led to their home. He was in awe of the view, stating that it was very picturesque, worthy of being in a magazine, a movie, or a painting. His grandmother tapped her leg explaining that their town was very secluded and was appreciative of not having visitors. He was the exception because he was the son of a Loud.

The road merged from a two-lane to a one-lane, even exchanging concrete for uneven gravel. They crossed the bridge where it was leading Lincoln to his father's birthplace. An old corrugated sign stood proud with the title, welcome to Quiet Hills, Idaho.

His grandparents lived in a farming village within the Rocky Mountains. The village, with only having a population of forty to fifty people was situated by a lake. Although the lake did not have a name for it was privately owned by the village, it was nicknamed Crystal Lake. Lincoln laughed how cliche of that given name.

They arrived into the village at the peak of the afternoon. The first thing he thought of the village that it reminded him of old western movies. They had a general store, a bar, a small police station and jail, and a restaurant. According to his grandfather, many of the villagers worked together and commune with each other. Quiet Hills was incorporated over a hundred years ago. So, many of the residents are related in some form. He laughed to Lincoln on don't be surprised if he run in with some cousins.

They arrived at a cabin at the edge of the lake. Their house was at the furthest of the town. In fact, it was surrounded by farmland that the nearest neighbor wasn't for a half mile. His grandfather helped Lincoln with his bags. His grandmother came and help Lincoln go into the cabin. When entering the cabin, it was very cozy. It was contrasting, to say the least. His grandparents kept up with the times as their house had anything he would find in a normal house of today.

"Just because we are old doesn't mean we can be hip," replied his grandfather with his crooked smile.

Lincoln's room was situated on the second floor of the cabin. He had the perfect view of seeing Crystal Lake. Crystal Lake was very clear that the reflection of the mountains was in perfect view. He did not know when heaven ended and the earth began. He liked it that way. He was glad to make his decision of spending the summer with his grandparents than spending it in Royal Woods.

He enjoyed his family and his friends, Clyde and Ronnie Anne, but he wanted something different. Sometimes, he got tired of the usual routine of summer. When his grandfather came to visit for Lori's high school graduation, he discussed so much about Idaho and how peaceful it was. Hearing how tranquil and relaxing it could be, Lincoln took the risk on the day of his grandfather's departure if he could go with him.

He approved and so did his parents. The latter encouraged it, explaining that it wouldn't hurt for Lincoln to spend time with family he rarely saw. Lincoln feverishly thought that they could save money on one less child. He shrugged it off as he left for Idaho a couple of weeks later.

It didn't take long until he learned that Quiet Hills did not have any other children. According to his grandfather, the last child left for the city over a few years ago. The town itself was more home to the older generation. The youngest person there was thirty-three years old. Without finding any children to play, he decided to make his own adventure.

A few days after making himself at home in Quiet Hills, he took advantage of Idaho rural life. With a jar he borrowed from his grandmother, Lincoln went to Crystal Lake to look for some bugs to collect. He took the ten minutes walk to the lake where he continued looking at the pristine beauty of the mountains and overall, Crystal Lake.

The village itself was quiet, but it did not give him an eerie feeling. He was relaxed, as if God gave him this town for him. He made it to the shore where he took off his shoes. The cool, soothing water gave him a chill down his spine. He squatted where he splash some more water so he could get comfortable.

He made a mental note to ask his grandmother if she could take him swimming.

He began searching through the woods, next to the lake, in search of some insects. If luck were on his side, he saw a grasshopper in his crosshairs. He quietly tiptoed to the small music machine, but unfortunately he missed.

"Dang, that sucks," he said to himself. "Got to find another bug to get."

As he peaked further into the woods, he heard something rattling from behind him. He ducked into a tree. He told himself that he shouldn't be shook. This town had a few people, but the thought still scared him. Still hiding behind a tree, he continued looking for the source. Then, suddenly, the sounds of the grasshoppers fade away. The sounds of the chirping birds fade away. Everything went silent.

However, there was a slight exception.

Po, po, po, po

Po, po, po, po

Po, po, po, po

Lincoln began questioning where it was coming from. I have never heard that noise before. Doesn't sound like any bug or bird I had heard before.

Po, po, po, po

Po, po, po, po

Po, po, po, po

Po, po, po, po

As he turned his head to his right, he saw something in the distance. It stood like a pole at full mast. It remained still, but even Lincoln knew that that wasn't there because he was in that direction before coming to the lake.

It began moving. Very slow steps. Lincoln was taken aback when realizing that the thing was coming to his direction.

Po, po, po, po

Po, po, po, po

Po, po, po, po

Po, po, po, po

The closer it moved, the more it was producing the sounds. Lincoln maintained his post at the tree as the person was getting closer. What became fearful to Lincoln was the closer it got, the bigger it was. A shadow was casting where Lincoln was hiding. He began trembling.

Lincoln saw that the "creature," whom he nicknamed, was wearing a long white blouse. Assuming that the creature was a woman, she had very large breasts. She was also wearing a straw hat. What was captivating that the woman had to be at least seven or eight feet tall.

Po, po, po, po

Po, po, po, po

Po, po, po, po

Po, po, po, po

Seeing the height and the girth of the creature, Lincoln decided that it was best to leave. Slowly, he backed away from the tree. He tried his hardest to leave the scene until he froze. He began panting and his hands were trembling. He felt that he was being watched. Slowly, he pulled out his cell phone to use it as a mirror. With his trembling hands, he waved it to his face where the creature was standing in his direction.

She stared, but how sure was she even looking at Lincoln. It wasn't until she spread a smile and whispered one word.

Po!

Lincoln quickly ran away from the sight. He knew that it meant running into the direction of the creature, but he was already fearful to even care. He managed to make it out of the woods and ran into the path of the village. He continued running until he made it to the cabin of his grandparents.

He sat on the stairs while catching his breath. He had never had seen something like that before. He wasn't sure a person was capable of being that tall. Trying to maintain his composure, he convinced himself that she wasn't real. To be sure, he went upstairs to his bedroom where he had clear view of Crystal Lake.

As he made it upstairs, he slowly walked to the window. Of course there was apprehension, but he wanted confirmation. As he slowly peeked to the window, he whisper a prayer. When he looked, there was nothing there. Nothing, but the pristine beauty of the lake and the mountains. He sat down, letting out a huge sigh of relief.

I think I am reading too much of these science fiction books, he thought to himself. Maybe the isolation is making me think that the creature was real.

He decided not to further think about. He spent the rest of the day playing video games and reading comics, the usual habits he would have done if he was at home.

Later, he assisted his grandmother with dinner. His grandfather was at work getting the squash ready for harvest.

It was near sunset when his grandfather came home. Lincoln and his grandmother were waiting at the kitchen of his arrival. They all say their prayers before eating the meal. Lincoln was in the middle of eating before the thought of the creature came to his mind.

"How was your day, Linc," asked his grandfather.

"It was...it was okay," answered Lincoln while finishing his food.

"Did anything interesting today," asked his grandfather.

"Yeah, I went to the lake where I try to catch some bugs," said Lincoln.

"Bugs," said his grandmother. "I am so happy for kids to participate old things that doesn't require a device."

"I couldn't agree anymore," confirmed his grandfather.

Lincoln put down his fork. He was going to explain what happened with him today. "Hey, grandpa. Today, while I was at the lake, I saw something very strange."

"Strange," questioned his grandfather. "How do you mean?"

"Well, I was at the lake where I saw this very tall woman walking around there," said Lincoln.

His grandfather wiped his face with a napkin. However, he kept focus on Lincoln. "I am listening. Tell me more on that woman."

"She was very tall. Tall like a basketball player, but a little taller," said Lincoln. "Also, for some kind of reason, she kept saying 'po, po, po, po.'" He looked down. "Kinda weird, if you ask me."

Lincoln's grandmother dropped her fork and her face began to lose color. His grandfather began shaking.

"Lincoln," said his grandfather with a serious tone. "Can you tell me what she was wearing?"

"Yeah," answered Lincoln. "She was wearing a white dress and a straw hat."

"Did you look at her?"

"No, sir. But, I saw her through the reflection of my cell phone."

His grandfather stood up and quickly ran out of the kitchen. His grandmother came and hugged Lincoln. He watched as tears were falling from her eyes.

"What's the matter, grandma," asked Lincoln. "What's going on?"

She hugged him tightly, rubbing his head and kissing his forehead. "I am afraid...I am afraid," she was saying before going into tears. "Lincoln is in danger." She began sobbing, holding on to her grandson. "No, no. Not him. Not my Lincoln. Not him. No, God, why?"

"Grandma," asked Lincoln. "What is going on?"

His grandfather returned to the kitchen. "I have made a phone call. They are on their way."

"Grandpa," asked Lincoln. "What is going on?"

His grandfather couldn't face him in the eye. From Lincoln's position, he was trying to combat tears.

"There is nothing to worry about, Lincoln," said his grandfather. "We are on it."

"Cursed," said the grandmother while sobbing behind Lincoln. "Not him, Lord. Why him?"

Just as he was registering on what was going on. He began hearing the same sounds he heard at the lake.

Po, po, po, po

Po, po, po, po

Po, po, po, po

Po, po, po, po

He felt that feeling when he saw her at the lake. It didn't take a genius to know that he was facing danger at Crystal Lake, staring right into his direction from the cell phone.

Chapter Text

It is one thing about being grounded. It is another thing about losing your privilege. But, it is something else where your punishment has to be confined in a room without the necessities of typical teenaged living. It is like reliving the colonial age where the only source of entertainment was making shadow puppets; telling stories; and watch the events unfold outside; no matter how lackluster it is. Lincoln chose the latter, he watched as ants were crawling on his window. They were moving upward, all in a snake-like path to parts unknown. For a moment, he envied those ants. He, too, wished that he can go somewhere far away.

The room reminds him of an interrogation room. Four walls, one table, cold. The latter was the best adjective he could configure because of his current living condition. The day of his grounding. His mother came inside with unremorseful eyes. It would have been fortunate if Lincoln could have seen those eyes. But her direction focused on the removal of items. His father came with one focus in mind, to remove the items of choice. Both gave him the silent treatment as they took away his television, his laptop, his cell phone, and worst of all, his walkie talkie. The refusal of denying him such a precious resource to the outside world became unbearable to him that he wanted to respond. Before parting his mouth, both turned to him and gave him a sickening glance. His pleading eyes gave them disgust. Their expression read if they stay any longer, they too will pick up his ignorance. Both exited the room quickly as they entered.

Before closing the door, Lincoln saw the person who had caused him to be in this predicament. She blended very well in the background for her parents didn't even gave her any attention. The interaction between her and the door was only a couple of seconds, but those seconds were limitless, capturing a picture of that particular moments. Her cheeks were red and puffy as if she had been crying. Her eyes were dull. Lincoln couldn't garner the words of his sunken grief. Before he could open his lips, giving a reaction, something to show solace and atonement for what he had done, the door closed.

He was split from the world outside of his own. Confined with nothing but his thoughts. Plenty of time to think of what he has done to get himself in this position.

Plenty of time to think about his sister, Luna.

Lincoln returned to the window where the ants continued making their venture. Back to your regularly scheduled program, he thought as he let out a self-deprecating smirk. He slightly turned where the shadow of his entertainment used to be. He reminded himself that he needed to clean the dust.

Dust, dust. Is that we all end up eventually, dust? Dust gathers around us. It clings to us, reminds that we too will eventually age. Dust is stuff we gathered throughout time. Dust is...dust is...well, it is dust.

With the free time on his hands, he can come up with better topics for his thoughts. The sound of a car door closing alerted him. He went to the window and saw Luna entering the silver Porsche that belonged to her girlfriend, Sam. He watched as the car sped away into oblivion. The silver Porsche has become to norm to him whenever she comes and picks up Luna.

Seeing Sam smile whenever seeing the brunette made Luna's eyes lit. They greeted each other with a kiss on the cheek, holding hands and sitting on the front porch. Every time, they relaxed and played guitar. They kicked back and listened to music. They played in each other's hair. The love birds giggled with one another until the sun fade away.

The more the two became intimate, the more it became worrisome to Lincoln.

And his relationship with his sister.

Why didn't you take me to the concert?

Didn't you promise me you will take me?

You said that last time.

Yes, you did. You say that you will take me but instead you go with her.

What is the matter with you?

Since you have been dating, you have forgotten about me. Haven't you?

Was I taking too much space for you? Not enough room for you and her together?

Was I a filler until she came into your life?

So, she comes first and your little brother, your blood, has to wait in line for a spot available to see you?

Am I wrong? It is always "me and Sam have to go shopping for new guitars." "Me and Sam have to go to the movies." "Sorry, but I can't make to your comic book contest this afternoon. I promised Sam that we were going to…"

Me and Sam. Me and Sam. Me and Sam. It is always you two. Where do I fit in the picture? Does any of your sisters fit in the picture?

I am tired of the sorries. I am tired of the excuses. I am tired of you. If you don't want to spend time with me, then say it.

Say it, Luna. Say that "you don't want to spend time with me because my girlfriend is more important than you."

What, can't talk? Just because she is right beside you that you feel that I am unworthy of a response.

Well, fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. I hope that you enjoy your life with that dyke girlfriend of yours. Enjoy your life with her and without me. Fuck you, Luna and fuck you, Sam.

I wished I never helped you with that letter. Just fucking die, you lesbian bitch.

He was too caught up in the moment where he didn't know that his parents entered the living room. They didn't hear the majority of the conversation. Just the latter part of when he cursed out his sister and her girlfriend. Luna returned him a slap to his face. She reached for it again before pushing him to the ground. She got on top of him and continued slapping him. Through her hot tears, through she anger, she lashed out on Lincoln.

I hate you.

I hate you.

I hate you.

Fuck you, too.

Fuck you, too.

Their parents came and separated the dueling siblings. Lincoln lunged forward to get Luna, but was caught in the grips of his father. Their mother took Sam and Luna out of the room. Lincoln continued shouting to Luna from the living room.

Fuck you.

Fuck you.

Die, you dyke bitch.

I wish you were never my sister, you fucking cunt.

A few moments later, their mother returned. Before Lincoln could produce a response, she slapped him on his already tender face. His father didn't even flinched. He, himself, was flustered and upset of the harsh words he told his sister.

Never in my years as a mother have I ever felt a strong disappointing disgrace to you, Linc. You should ashamed of yourself.

Your mother and I did not raise any ignorant children. Who are you to judge on who can bring one happiness?

I am very upset with you. Look what you did to your sister. I don't blame her for putting those marks on you. I wish she would have done more. We don't take care of children who make fun of being gay.

I don't want to look at you no more, son. Go upstairs and we will discuss what we will do with you.

Hearing those words from you, I am petrified. You make me sick!

Hearing those final words left him breathless. From that moment, if lightning struck him, he wouldn't mind it. If the Lord brought the rapture, he wouldn't mind that. As he walked the stairs, his eyes were met with many disappointing ones. Many were shaking their head in disappointment, disapproval, ashamed to know that ignorance lied in the household. He didn't turn to look at Luna. He walked the path of embarrassment and shame before closing his door that is now his solitary confinement.

He was to be grounded for four weeks. No phone, no computer, no comic books, and no television. His food was going to be brought to him. He can leave the room for the bathroom only. Finally, he has to write an apology letter to Luna and to Sam for his "ignorance of lifestyle choices." They told him if he took a tolerance class at the community center, then they would reduce his sentence.

The worse part of it was all of it was sent in writing. The final blow was the decision of the family to give him the silent treatment.

He pressed his hands to the window, staring at the ants that were making a path. He watched as each ant helped each other to go to their destination. They had a purpose, an intent; to go to their next venture. At least, they were doing it together.

He lied on the bed and he stared at the ceiling. He felt compressed as if the ceiling was going to cave in at any moment, crushing him and juicing him until he was nothing but pulp.

For a moment, he didn't mind that.

A knock interrupted his thoughts. He didn't realize that he drifted into sleep. When scanning the window, it was night. A second look showed the ants were gone.

"Come in," he answered flatly, but faintly.

The door opened and his mother made her appearance. She displayed the same dull, pale eyes she gave him earlier that day. She had a tray in her hand. She put the tray down on his desk. Without saying a word or giving him a glance, she closed the door.

"Soup and crackers," responded Lincoln to himself. "I swore I have smelled chicken masala. Then yet again, it may have been my imagination."

He stepped out of bed to get his dinner. The soup lacked character. That was the thought he had produced about his dinner. He saw his reflection as he looked over the soup. He saw his face, red like a tomato from the slap he received from his mother and his sister. His eyes were sunken. He had a smug expression. He tightened his lip to combat the tears. The entire time he had focus on his sister and his sister alone.

Why did you abandon me? Why did you abandon me? Am I not enough for you? I wanted to be the one to dry your eyes, make you smile, make you laugh, make you move. I thought it would forever be you and me. Even that appears to be wrong.

He picked up the spoon to eat his soup. A lump produced in his throat as he took his first taste.

"Luna made this." He said to himself.

She wasn't much of a cook. Anything she made, it turned to a disaster. Once when Lincoln was sick, Luna was the only one home to take care of him. With her studio session cancelled, she stayed home and took care of him. She stayed in his room at his bedside. She played guitar for him. She read to him. She did everything an older sister should. When he was hungry, she made him chicken noodle soup.

I know it is canned soup, Linc. But I sprinkled some spices and added some shredded cheese to give it some flavor.

He adjusted himself to have her feed him the soup.

"It was delicious, just like it was the day when I was sick," he said to himself.

Luna only made her chicken noodle soup for Lincoln whenever he had bad days, when he was sick, or whenever he wasn't feeling himself. Under those circumstances, she always did it to brighten his day.

He let out a sigh. "She does care," he said before taking another bite of the soup.

After he finished the soup, he went to his desk. He reached for a notepad in the drawer and got a pen from his backpack. He was preparing to write a letter for Luna.

The sound of a car horn interrupted his writing.

The familiar sound of grunge was blaring from the car. He frowned upon knowing that it was Sam outside. He got from his seat and face the window. He watched Luna leaving the house in a hurry. She wasn't wearing her usual attire. She was wearing a long pretty dress. That was very atypical of her compared to her typical rock attire. Sam stepped from the car wearing a casual tuxedo with tennis shoes. She came and ran to his sister. They were in each other's arms, exchanging kisses and flirting glances. They were in each other's embrace for a few moments before she opened the door for Luna to get in. He watched as the silver Porsche disappeared into the night.

Lincoln lowered his head. He wrapped his fist and hit the wall. The impact of force didn't make him respond. He was in pain, but it didn't compare to the hatred that he had for Sam.

It is your fault, Sam.

It is your fucking fault.

Lincoln returned to his desk where he saw the apology letter. He tore it into pieces before discarding it in the trash. He tossed the lamp to the wall, breaking it and leaving him into the dark. He returned to his bed where he lied at the ceiling. He refused to cry. He refused to do anything to display satisfaction to Sam, Luna, or his family.

Screw them. Screw them all. Why would they give a care about me anyway? I am just in the way. It wasn't just her, it is everybody. I make you sick, mom. I am ignorant, dad. Why give me those faces, sisters. You would love if I disappear.

In that moment, he had a plan.

The next day, his father woke him up for school. It is a cold greeting. He showered and went downstairs where the family was eating breakfast. The smell of french toast loomed throughout the house. His breakfast, whatever the school was offering. His father left him some money.

Until you learn how to become part of this family, you are not part of this family.

Lincoln left the money on the living room table and say aloud that he was leaving for school. It was on deaf ears, but he needed something to alert them.

Because school is not where he is going. He made his plan. In his backpack, he had enough supplies to carry him for whatever he needed to go. Also, last night, he sneaked into his parent's bedroom where he went to their safe and retrieved his cell phone. Also about $400 in cash. He laughed to himself on why parents keep their password as 0000?

He didn't know where he was going, but he knew he wanted to be far away from his family. It doesn't matter. One less thing to worry about, if you ask me. Since I am not part of this family, I am no longer part of this family.

He was a few blocks away from his neighborhood as he ventured to the town square. He was approaching a diner where he saw the silver Porsche parked at a house across the street. He recognized as clear as day. It belonged to Sam.

Emotions returned as he looked at the car as a symbol of his split from his sister. He gnashed his teeth in despisement of Sam.

You took her away, you fucking cunt. You are the reason why my sister won't be with me. You, you, you.

His initial thought was to scratch the car with one of his drawing pens as a parting gift. However, he put his hand to the opening of the driver's door. The car was open. For some reason, he needed to get inside of that car. He wanted to know something, a side of Luna he didn't see.

He stepped inside of the silver Porsche. The car smelled of fresh vanilla. He adjusted the seat. On the console, he saw a picture of her and Luna. They were at the SMOOCH concert he was supposed to attend with Luna. She had a spare ticket and decided to use it for Sam instead. He snatched the picture and toss it out of the window. More things filled his mind.

Have they made out in this car?

What expression does that bitch give to my sister?

Have they had sex?

Seeing her stroking her dirty hands on my damn sister. Kissing her neck and making her wet. Putting her putrid hands on her tits. That sickening, disgusting whore. I can't stand that fucking piece of shit. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you very much.

He hit the steering wheel with his fist. He was shouting in agony.

"Luna," he screamed. "Luna!"

Once he calmed down, he saw something that got his attention. Above the sun visor was a key. He stared at the key like it was a talisman. A sinister thought entered his mind.

Yeah, that is it. You can't take Luna out on a date without your silver Porsche. You can't bring your dyke, slutty ass around to my house anymore with this, Sam. Well, Sam, you took my Luna away. Now, I am going to take something of yours away.

Although he has yet to receive a learner's permit, he was a good driver. He, at some point, even taught Leni how to drive.

Without giving a second thought, he put the key into the ignition. The sound of electronica music filled the car. Disgruntled, he ejected the CD and tossed it out of the window. He took the AUX cord and plugged it into his cell phone. He scanned a song and began playing it. Papa Roach's "Last Resort" filled the car as he put it into drive.

He drove away and he disappeared into oblivion.

Chapter Text

The Smashing Pumpkins were coming to Detroit for their upcoming tour. What excited Luna was that former member, James Iha, was going to be their opening act. A student of what she had dubbed, Ihaism, she attributed to his craft by studying his style of performing on the guitar. She also bought all of his albums, including the B-sides and his features with other artists. It brought more excitement to the budding rock star that her band was focusing on transitioning to alternative rock. Although a true fan of grunge and the golden era of British rock, she would anything to become versatile in gaining a record deal.

She didn't look to it as selling out, but an opportunity to have her foot in the door.

She took the bus to Detroit to purchase tickets for the upcoming show. What her allowance could give her, she purchased two tickets. The entire time, that extra ticket was reserved for her brother. She admitted that her attention wasn't on him at the time. Just entering a relationship with her girlfriend, the excitement and the passion of sharing the love of music with her significant other brought more attention to her brother.

It was fresh, something that she has never done before. Of course, she has been on dates with many of the boys in her school. However, this is her first serious relationship, and with a girl of all people.

She knew she was bisexual since entering high school, or at least, she admitted to herself on those feelings. She and Sam shared passion and moments with each other that no one would understand. She loved her brother and desired a deeper relationship with him. But, she decided to put it on the back burner until she became comfortable with her newfound relationship.

A few days prior to the concert, she rushed into Lincoln's room with the exciting news of their attending the Smashing Pumpkins concert. His face was beet red from the tickets that were wrapped around his sister's hands. He jumped for joy to know he was attending another concert with his sister. She said with pleading eyes that it will time just for them.

She considered as an atonement to make up for lost time. She had the whole day planned. They would use their parents' van and go to the concert. They would wear glam makeup as their ownership and homage to rock. They knew that makeup doesn't apply to alternative rock, but it was a symbol of their relationship, their siblinghood. Afterward, they would listen to folk songs until they returned back to town. They would stop at Gus' Games and Grub for burgers. Then, the siblings would conclude the night by spending the night in the van by Johnson's Creek. She promised her parents that they would return before daybreak. Everything was planned.

However, the day before presenting her tickets to Lincoln, she had band practice with her group. Her girlfriend was on drums. She opted not to play, but to work on song lyrics for their upcoming gig. That was at least she was supposed to do. She was writing ideas on how to spend the day with Lincoln.

"Babe, babe," asked Sam in a flirtatious tone. She came behind her with her soft hands, kissing on the back of her neck. Luna let out a small moan from the touch.

"Easy, babe," replied Luna as she pulled Sam around her before giving her a slight peck on the lips. "Take it easy or else I have to attack you on the spot."

"What makes you think I wouldn't stop provoking you," said Sam with narrowing her eyes, glaring at Luna's already flushed cheeks.

She leaned forward and looked at Luna's notepad. "Didn't know that Lincoln was even part of your lyrics."

Luna blushed, scrambled and covering her notepad. "It is nothing is all, just thinking about some material." She flustered. "I wasn't thinking about my little brother or anything."

Sam put her finger to her lip, followed by a slight pout. "Aww, my little girl is thinking of her little brother." She pulled Luna's cheek. "I am getting kind of jealous."

"Knock it off," replied Luna. "You know you are mine and mine alone."

Sam pulled a seat and sat in front of Luna. "It's okay, dear. I am not worried. There is nothing wrong spending time with your brother." She flushed. "I always sort of knew you had a brother complex."

Luna was taken aback by her comment. Sam chuckled when her expression was displayed on her face.

"Looks like I caught someone in the truth," replied Sam in a sing-song.

"Really, my brother," she questioned Sam while looking away from her. "No way in hell do I have a brother complex."

Sam peered forward, rubbing her soft hands on her girlfriend's thigh. "Chill, relax. There is nothing wrong sharing affection for your brother." She giggled. "I actually find that attractive. One of the many things I like about you." She looked at the other band members. She knew they were listening in on their conversation. "Let's talk in my car. Don't need any prying eyes."

Sam took Luna by the hand and stepped outside. They entered her silver Porsche. A prized possession of Sam because she brought the car with her own money. Sam turned on the radio where it was left on a rock station. The sounds of Dead Kennedys played inside of the car.

"As I was saying," said Sam. "I find it sexy that you have affections for your brother. I never had any siblings that I can say I am close to. Most of my family don't even live in this town. It is just me, my dad, and his girlfriend." She pulled out a pen in the console. Luna extended her arms while Sam began doodling.

"Lincoln is an intricate character. There is so much more of him I would like to explore," she said to Luna.

"I mean he is in a league of his own," said Luna while blushing. "I just...I just."

"I just, what, babe?"

"It is confusing to know I have these strong feelings for you. But at the same time, combating the feelings of my brother."

Sam looked into her eyes, seeing how much it was affecting her. She took her hand and cupped the back of Luna's hand. "Babe, I am not jealous. I am glad that you find Lincoln in your way to be more of a brother." She gave Luna a kiss on her lips. "And to be honest, I do find your brother to be beautiful as well."

Luna flushed when hearing the revelation of her girlfriend. "You, too. Lincoln?"

She smiled. "Hmm, hmm."

"I don't know what to say."

"Don't," replied Sam with a whisper as she crossed to the other side of the seat. "Just kiss me."

Luna closed her eyes as she took in the kiss of her girlfriend. Both wrapped their lips around each other while exchanging their tongues. Luna wanted to melt, to blend in with the car, to blend in with Sam.

And at the same time, to blend in with Lincoln.

After their kissing session, Luna told Sam that she planned to spend the day with Lincoln by going to the upcoming The Smashing Pumpkins concert. Sam thought it was cute of hearing her girlfriend's plans. Sam, however, gave Luna a suggestion.

"James Iha is actually doing a private concert at the Fox Theater," said Sam. "I know a girl that can give us tickets at a discounted price."

"Really," said Luna. "Actually, I find that more exciting than to attending the concert. I only wanted to go because of James himself. I really don't care for the others too much. Honestly, they are just…"

"Noise," interjected Sam. "James was the heart and soul of the group. That guitar can flutter my heart for days. If I weren't in a committed relationship, I would marry him."

"I didn't think you were really much into men," said Luna while raising her eyebrow.

"I never said I was fully a lesbian" answered Sam with a laughing tone. "And doubling back to you, I should say the same about your brother complex."

Luna looked down to the ground. "Point taken."

Sam kissed her forehead. "God, you are a sweetheart." She pulled out her arm while Luna began drawing on it. "I was thinking you should cancel those tickets, get your money back, and we all can go to the James Iha show instead."

"I don't think that is a bad idea," replied Luna while gathering it some thought.

"Think about it," said Sam. "A private viewing with your James, a moment to share with me and your brother. We can still do your other plans."

"What about the van at the creek," said Luna with concern in her voice. "What if we want to get in the mood and Lincoln is around."

Sam smirked. "Well, you have a brother complex and I am very curious with your brother. So, I wouldn't mind." She finished the sentence by connecting her thumb and index finger with one hand and using her other hand to put a finger through that hole.

Luna threw the pen at her head. "God, you are a sick pervert. I can't do that to him."

Sam smirked while narrowing her eyes to Luna. "Can't we? I don't think he would mind. It is not every day for a brother to share an intimate moment between women."

"But we are a couple," said Luna. "I love you."

"I love you, too," answered Sam. "But, do you think you are holding yourself from your desires of your brother? My dad's girlfriend told me if you have something to get off of your chest, why not do it?"

Luna was bewildered of the conversation she was hearing. It was one thing to make it a threesome at the concert, but hearing that she was interested in making a three-way affair. She always knew that Sam was a free spirit. She was afraid of taking the risk. It excited her that Sam displayed no limits on achieving any goal she wanted to do. That was what made Luna pursue her. Then, having the conflicted feelings of her brother. It was one thing of having a lesbian relationship, but having an incestuous relationship as well.

"I am not forcing you," said Sam. "I don't want you to be in something that makes you uncomfortable."

Luna put her hands to Sam's lip. "No, you are right. There are both sides to the coin. I see you, Sam, the love of my life. The strings of my guitar that guide my spirit. Then, there is my brother. A boy I can confide myself too. A boy I can share many things with. A boy I can say that I love more than a brother."

"If you are willing to explore these feelings, then let's do it together," confirmed Sam.

"I love him, don't I," said Luna. "I love you." She kissed her girlfriend. "I love Lincoln."

"Let's not tell him of our plans," said Sam. "We are going to tell him that you are not going to the concert with him. Instead, you are going to give me his ticket. Then, later on, that night, we are going to surprise him with the private viewing of James Iha instead."

Luna smiled. "That is great. We will have a full event. Just the three of us."

"That is right, my love."

"God, I am dating such a genius," she responded. "Do you think Lincoln is up to this?"

"Trust me," said Sam. "Sing the right note and boys fall into your hands like putty. Also, he is still a teenager. Boys get horny over lesbian sex anyway."

Both of them laughed before kissing each other again. Luna was excited about the upcoming plans of her night with Lincoln. She looked forward to it with anticipation.

Or so she thought.

Chapter Text

Luna came to pick up Lincoln from school. She opened the door for him to enter her girlfriend's care before heading home. He sat quietly while Luna gave him an odd look. Did he blame her, he thought to himself. It was not in his blueprint to get detention after school.

"How in the hell do you get detention," she questioned him like a mother would. "Can't believe I have to cut band practice short so I can take you home."

Sam intervened. "Relax, babe," she said. "Let's get him the benefit of the doubt. It was his first time." She turned him, displaying a motherly look. "Right?"

He shook his head. "Yeah, this is my first time getting this."

"Fighting," said Luna. "I never thought to see the day that my brother gets detention for fighting."

Lincoln was silent. He put his head down to look at his hand in between his lap.

"Don't act like that, Luna," said Sam. He could tell that Sam was doing her hardest to calm the situation. "Mistakes happen and give the kid a break."

"Yeah," retorted Lincoln. "I didn't think."

"Exactly," snapped Luna. "As smart as you are, you have to know better. What kind of example are you setting for our younger sisters."

Lincoln scoffed before looking away from his sister. "With the attitude you are giving me, a pretty bad one."

Luna turned red from his response. "Be grateful that we are in the car. Or else, we could have gotten really acquainted with each other. If you know what I mean."

"I am sorry, okay," protested Lincoln. "I am sorry that you have to miss band practice. I am sorry that I got detention. I am sorry in advance that the family van was broke down and that Sam had to go over and beyond to pick me up. Anything else?"

Luna sighed loudly before returning to her seat, folding her arms. The trio remained silent until they made it to the Loud residence.

Sam parked her car in the driveway. She turned it off, leaving nothing but silence in return. Lincoln got out of the car and walked into the house. He knew his weekend was already going to be shot because he knows that Luna is on the phone calling their parents about his detention.

His parents went out of town for a personal getaway for the weekend. Lori and Leni decided to spend the weekend with Bobby in his new town. Luan, Lynn, and the younger Loud sisters were sent to Aunt Ruth's. Luna had an upcoming gig the following weekend, so she was able to stay at home. After plenty of convincing to his parents, he was allowed to stay with Luna for the weekend.

He went upstairs and threw his backpack to the floor. He slammed the door and sat in front of his bed. He wrapped his arms around his knees, trying his hardest to calm down. He was already afraid that Luna was calling their parents for his detention. Even though he had it, but he did not explain the circumstances of it. He rather have kept it to himself and had to take one for the team.

Preparing for his grounding, he went to unplug his laptop and his television. He put his cell phone on the desk, preparing to give it to Luna.

He heard a knock at the door.

He opened and saw it was Luna. Luna's demeanor was different from when they were in the car. She was flustered, her head was down. She appeared embarrassed.

"Can I come in," asked Luna faintly.

"Yeah, sure," answered Lincoln. "I am getting ready to unplug my stuff for my grounding." He extended his hand to give her his cell phone. She stopped him in the process.

"Look, Linc," she said. "I am sorry. Sorry for being harsh with you in the car."

He shook his head. "Don't be. You had every right. You were being a big sister. I didn't take any of that personally."

She kept her head down. "Why didn't you tell me that you were fighting over me?"

Lincoln shrugged his shoulders. "You are my sister. Of course, I am going to defend your honor."

Luna walked across his room and sat on his bed. She pulled out his stuff bunny and held it tightly.

"People think we are strange, aren't we," questioned Luna. "I feel it is never easy when getting something out of your chest. Something that it crept inside of me for these many years. When it is finally released, it feels good. But, it is just worse as it was before coming to terms with yourself."

Lincoln sat beside his sister. She wrapped her arms around him.

"No, I don't think you are strange," responded Lincoln. "I think you are simply Luna. Everybody is quirky in their own way. But, heck, who isn't?"

"It is easy that people around you support you, but why can't everybody else," questioned Luna faintly.

"Well, I can't speak for others, but trust that I support you," answered Lincoln. "Mom, Dad, our sisters, Sam. With us, who gives a care about everybody else."

She pecked him on the cheek. "Thanks, you are sweet."

He blushed. "I am the jack of all trades, remember?" He boasted and stuck his chest out. "Superman or Ace Savvy have nothing on me when it comes to defending those I love."

"I couldn't agree more, Superman," said the voice.

Both turned when seeing Sam standing at the door. She walked to the bed and sat beside Lincoln. She wrapped her arms around him as well.

"Thanks for having our backs, Linc," said Sam. "If there is any consolation, at least you have two lovelies to support you at all times."

He blushed. "Now you are being too modest. You would have done the same for me."

Sam laughed at his response before setting her eyes on Luna. Luna returned her eyes to her before both looking at Lincoln.

"What are you guys looking at me strangely," he questioned.

Sam walked to the door, closing it and locking it. Meanwhile, Luna edged closer to Lincoln.

"In the car, we were honored about defending us," said Sam. "However, punishment still needs to be served."

Lincoln watched as both girls slowly disrobing the clothes. He flinched when Luna started taking off his clothes.

"Luna, Sam," said Lincoln pleadingly. "This isn't really necessary. Have I suffered enough with the yelling and the guilt?"

Luna giggled sensually before pushing Lincoln to the bed. "Depends on how you define guilt and suffering."

Sam appeared from behind. "I hope you have your weekend cleared. Because you are going to be indisposed for the moment."

Both giggled as the girls shared a kiss before setting their eyes on Lincoln. Lincoln looked to the ceiling as the girls relished on him.

I think being grounded is becoming more of a better solution. But, hell, I give. Do what you want.

Chapter Text

The bell rings. It is finally the weekend. No longer do I have to subject myself to higher learning any longer for the week. I can exchange my mask of a scholar to put on the look of a baller. I kid, of course. It is funny to bring humor sometimes, especially within myself.

I step into the chaos of the crowd as they, too, are excited for the upcoming three day weekend. Three days to relax. Three days to do what you want for the time being. That sweet feeling to fall asleep on a Sunday without your parents having to wake you up on a Monday. It feels good to not wake up with an agenda.

I beeline my way to my locker where I can get my backpack and head home. I go into my locker and see the picture of me, Clyde, and Ronnie Anne. It is a bittersweet feeling of this picture. This picture was taken of us at this locker for it was her last day at school. It has been a few months since she moved to Chicago. I miss her. I really do. Words can't describe the feelings I have for her. For my actions speak louder than my words.

I close my eyes to see her face, her smile, her laugh, heck, her fist. The smell of sloppy joes in my boxer shorts. The sweet smell of lavender invading my nostrils. The kiss we shared with our cracked and chapped lips. She tasted of strawberries. Not all of the time, but it leaves me with bittersweet memories.

On the surface, we are still boyfriend and girlfriend. We still chat. We still text. Nothing has changed, but I miss the physical connection I share with her.

I close my locker and make my way to the front of the school. By this time, I am usually the last to leave. Walking the trail of scattered papers, jackets with no owner, and the occasional teacher who gives the look of "why are you still here? Go home!" I exit the school as I make my way back to my domicile. Normally, my wingman, Clyde walks with me, but he is sick. He tells me that it is nothing. Probably a hairball from his cat, he tells me. For some reason, those cats give my boy a hard time. I make a mental note on strategies to deflect those "meowaters."

It is a beautiful day. And I mean it. Not a cloud in the sky. It is warm, no hint of humidity. It is a pretty day. I really want to do something tonight. I am normally not a night person, but I want to go somewhere tonight. Anywhere? The only thing is to find somebody to go with.

I am a block from the school when I see the silver Porsche slowly pulling up to me. It honks, letting me know of its presence.

"Hey, what's going on, kid," responds the feminine voice.

I turn and see the familiar face. I smile because I have garnered her acquaintance for quite some time. I mean, I am partially responsible for putting her and my sister together.

"Hey, Sam," I tell her. "What are you doing on this side of town?"

"I was dropping off my dad's girlfriend at her job and was making my rounds through the neighborhood," she tells me. I have always loved her style. She is very kicked back, always has an agenda. When she wants to do something, she waits for nobody. She does it.

"Where are you heading off to," she asks me with curiosity in her voice.

"Home," I tell her.

She lets out a small smile and opens the passenger door. "Get in," she tells me. "I drop you off. Make it easier for you, Linc."

"Aren't you a prin-cess," I tell her as I close the door.

Without a second to spare, she puts her foot on the gas and we are on the road. I lean my seat back so I can relax. I put the window down so I can feel the warm Royal Woods air. She keeps her eyes on the road. She smells good. Her fragrance, more of male scent. Smells like Yves Saint Laurent or some cologne my dad or Clyde's dad wears. Smells very good. I think I want to try some of that cologne.

"Happy about the three-day weekend," she asks me.

"Yeah, excited. Wanted it and needed it," I explain to her with excitement.

"Trust me, kid," she says as she pulls out her AUX cord to pull her cell phone. "When you get to high school, you are gonna wish for more of it."

"I don't want to even think about high school," I say with sheer honesty. "I still have issues with fractions."

She snorts loudly while trying to keep her focus on the road. "I like you, Linc. You know how to keep me laughing."

Once she has her cord on her phone, she scrolls through her phone and put on some music. Surprisingly, she doesn't listen to her rock music. She is listening to R&B.

The groove is nice, very sweet tempo, in my opinion. I start bobbing my head to the beat.

"You like it, doncha," she says with a grin while turning up the volume.

"Who is this," I ask her.

"This is Chance the Rapper," she tells me. "This jam is called "Juke Jam.""

"Has a nice beat. More mellow and dance like."

"It does. That is why I like this song."

"Makes me want to go somewhere and go dancing. Too bad I am not old enough to go dancing."

She turns her head to my direction. "What makes you think you are too young to go dancing?"

"I am still a pre-teen," I tell her. "I am not even in middle school, yet."

She shrugs. "True, but you act well beyond your years, Linc. I can see why Luna looks up." She stops before grinning. "Looks down to you."

"You would pull a short joke, wouldn't you," I tell her. "You must have forgotten that I will turn sixteen at some point and I will be taller than you."

She sticks her tongue out. "Yeah, but I will still be older than you," she responds in a sing-song voice. "Can never catch up, little squirt." She flicks my nose. "Seriously, I know you may not be enough old to go dancing in clubs, but there are places where you can dance."

"Like where," I ask her.

She rubs her hair, exposing the dyes in her roots. "Don't tell Luna this because I don't want her to find out."

"Why don't you want her to find out?"

"You may not believe it, but she does get jealous whenever we go dancing." She looks to the ceiling of the car before laughing self-deprecatingly. "I can be quite a dancer on the floor. A tease, if you will. I enjoy mellowing with the beat, grabbing the attention of guys and girls. It doesn't matter with who I dance with, so long as the beat gravitates and takes me away. Understand?"

"I don't," I say faintly. "But, I am curious."

We stop in front of my house. She pulls in the driveway and turns the car off. "Tomorrow, meet me in front of the arcade around 8 PM. Tell your parents that you are going to play with one of your friends."

"Does the arcade close at 9," I ask her.

"Not on the weekends," she tells me. "Their hours extend to midnight on weekends. So, it will give us some time until then."

She tells me that there is a dance joint across the lake in Windsor that she likes going to. It is more of her private joint, a place she has yet to tell Luna.

"So, meet me at 8. Okay," she tells me while rubbing my hair. "And remember."

"Don't tell Luna. I got it," I tell her.

We make pinky swears of my promise. I step out of the car. She waves goodbye while pulling out of the driveway. I watch her and the silver Porsche make her way into the distance. I walk to the front door.

I see my sisters watching television. I don't know the title of the programming because I don't like the Oxygen channel. As I make my way upstairs, Luna comes behind me.

"Hey, bro," she says.

"Hey, Luna, what's up," I respond.

"I saw that Sam dropped you off," she says. "That is sweet of her."

I shake my head. I try to make my way upstairs, but something is telling me that this is not the end of the conversation. She that "anything else" tone in her voice.

"What did you guys talk about," she asks me.

I shrug in her response. "Nothing. She was in the area and took me home." Now, it is my turn to ask questions. "Is everything cool with each other?"

She smiles. "Of course, silly. It is just I am surprised she didn't call me that she was heading our way."

I can see now what Sam is talking about. Interesting on how you don't see that perspective about your sister until you hear it from somebody else.

I am going upstairs before turning to Luna. "Don't overthink things." That is my final word before going to my room.

I closed the door behind me and open my laptop. I quickly go to my iTunes account where I can look for Chance the Rapper's "Juke Jam."

Chapter Text

Feels weird to lie to your best friend. Kind of leaves me with a sore feeling. It wasn't that I did not want to hang out with him. I just had other stuff on my mind. I even lied to my parents about contracting sickness from the hairball in my soup. Now, they are spending the day at the vet with all of the cats to get their vaccinations. Poor them, I didn't want to put any harm into it. I just wanted some time to myself.

It is not often where I can be home alone without parental supervision. I called my parents helicopters because they hover over me without a moment's rest. To be honest, let me live. I am at the prime of my life. I am eleven years old and I am taking advantage of my adult, duty-free activities; while I am still compelled enough to believe it.

Also, I have an agenda.

I go to the bathroom where I can shower. I plug my cell phone to the speakers where I can listen to music. I put on shuffle. Whatever it plays, I am game for it. I tell myself that it is okay to not follow routines. Kick back and enjoy life. Being a wingman and the Intel is all good, but I often want moments where I can Clyde McBride. Not just Lincoln's best friend or the other guy as I was nicknamed by my loving peers. Even the straight man wants a moment in the sun.

Even if that moment is minuscule.

The iTunes shuffle to a song I have been liking lately. I never thought to see the day that my otaku cousin put me on rap music. Her obsession with anything kawaii and the trance induced music of electronica, Japanese and Korean pop, and grunge must have filled her head to capacity. She sent me an email telling me about this musician I should give a try. Never really was a fan of rap, but curious of what my cousin offered me, I gave it.

Chance the Rapper is now my drug of choice, musically that is.

I am deadpan with my voice as I am singing the track, "Mixtape," from his Coloring Book album. The song has been on repeat over the last couple of days. I don't even mind accepting the flawed songs of Lil Yachty and Young Thug to appreciate the sounds coming from Chance.

I listen to his whole album from start to finish. Amazing how his voice compels others to take chances, make mistakes, and take risk in order to follow your dreams.

Makes me wonder if Chance was smoking and watching Magic School Bus at the same time.

I get out of the shower, still listening to Chance. Another track I like hits the bathroom. Better yet, my heart.

"Juke Jam" fills the soul as I dance while brushing my teeth. I hum the tempo, especially when it gets to the chorus. That is my favorite part. I have never been to Chicago. I have never been to a juke joint. But, I imagine what would it be like to go there.

I look on YouTube to see juke joints of Chicago. From there, I came across the dance called footwork. A style worthy of appreciation. Also, a peace of mind compared to the detriments of drill and trap music that is destroying the windy city.

Yet again, that is my opinion.

The song gets interrupted when I get a phone call.

It is Lincoln. I answer the phone, careful to put on my facade of being sick.

"Hello," I crack my voice.

"Hey, bro," says Lincoln. "Just checking up on you."

"You are a good friend."

He laughs. "Thanks. Listen, I don't want to hold you too long, but I need a favor."

"Sure, what do you need?"

He pauses. I know he producing something of a lie. He only does that when he is about to lie. Apprehension, I laugh to myself, apprehension.

"Tomorrow, me and Sam are going out to go dancing," he says. I can still hear some apprehension in his voice, but I overlook it.

"That sounds fun," I cut my voice. "Sam?" I raise my voice. "You are going out dancing with Sam? You do know that is…"

"Luna's girl," says Lincoln. "But it isn't like that. I need you to cover for me."

"Sure, what do you need?"

"I am meeting her at the arcade tomorrow. She is going to take me across the border at a teen club."

"So, you need an alibi so that you won't get in trouble."

"Exactly."

I sigh knowing that I am putting myself in a position of being a true friend. "Okay, Linc. We are going to chill at the arcade. I have movie tickets ready to show proof that we went to a movie. Afterwards, we are going to get some grub at Grubs. We will chill at my house. You will spend the night and you will be back home on Sunday. Anything extra or less do you want or need?"

"I love you, man," answered Lincoln. "Thanks for covering."

"Anytime, bro," I tell him. "Now, I need a favor for you."

He pauses. I bet he is surprised that I am exchanging solids earlier than usual. I don't know if it is Chance in my head or what, but I do have an agenda and it is going to be followed.

"What is it?" He finally answers.

"I am too going out tomorrow with my cousin. She wants to spend the day with me. However, my dad doesn't care for her very much. She says she is too mature for me." I laugh. "I asked them once I feel better can I come and spend the night with you."

I know he is shaking his head and thinking of something witty that he is not going to reproduce verbally. "Birds of a damn feather."

"So, it seems to me that we both have agendas for this particular Saturday."

"Guess so," I say to him.

"Alright, so I follow my plan and I got your alibi. You follow your plan and you got my alibi."

"Rightfully so, amigo," I say with sheer confidence. "We gotta talk about this on Sunday when we come back."

"Con gusto," answers Lincoln. "Out of curiosity, where are you going?"

"She didn't tell me, but I will fill you in."

"Well, we are some desperados, aren't we?"

"Taking chances."

"Must be. Later on, man."

"Later."

I hang up the phone, resuming back to Chance the Rapper. A few seconds later, I get another phone call. It is my cousin, Juri.

"Clyde, darling," she shouts in excitement. "Genki desu ka?"

"Genki desu," I answer in my broken Japanese.

"I am so happy that we are going to spend the weekend together," she tells me. "You didn't tell Uncle, did you."

"Lips sealed like a baggie," I tell her. Damn, that analogy sucks.

She giggles. "I am glad. I didn't want to worry them. They can be so damn too smothering. I mean, I love my uncles, but I need a break sometimes. Why is it so hard to say I want to spend time with you?"

"I don't know," I say. "I wish I can express the same thing myself."

"True. So, where do you want to go today?"

"It doesn't matter as long as I am with you."

"Aren't you a sweet cousin?" She sighs. "I will pick you up in an hour."

"Looking forward to it."

"Love you."

"Love you more."

I hang up the phone. By this time, I am already in my underwear. I leave the bathroom while I continue playing music on my phone.

This is definitely a Juke Jam kind of weekend.

Chapter Text

The sounds of shoes hitting gravel broke the night's silence. The group remained quiet until they made it to their destination. Leni and Clyde walked further ahead than Lori. Lori struggled to keep her grip on LIncoln. He was drenched, cold, and heavy. She felt his hot breath hitting the back of her neck. She was exhausted, but wouldn't have any other way. She was grateful, whispering thanks to God for knowing that her brother was still with them. The quad made it to their destination. By that time, the only vehicle there was Lori's.

Ronnie Anne and Bobby were nowhere to be seen.

Clyde kicked the ground in frustration. "Well, it is just like her to not stick around when danger happens." He scoffed before spitting on the ground. "The nerve of that girl."

Lori turned to Clyde. She gave him a glare, displaying and enticing his silence. He immediately closed his mouth before looking down to the ground.

"Let's get home," she told the others. "We need to get him somewhere warm and dry," she answered while looking at Lincoln.

Lori threw Leni the keys to the car. Clyde assisted Lori by opening the door. He helped Lori carry Lincoln into the car. He was instructed by Lori to go the back compartment of the trunk. She had a blanket. For a moment, she frowned upon the sight of the blanket. The same blanket that was going to keep Lincoln warm was the same blanket she was going to use for Bobby.

The same day she got her vehicle was the same day they broke up. The blanket was going to be a surprise for him.

"Thanks," said Lori. Carefully, she placed Lincoln lying upwards on the backseat. She was going to take off his dampened boxers. She instructed the others to look away while doing this delicate task. She reached for his boxers. With each shrug, with each strain, her breath labored. Not only was this task was tedious, she was also curious. She had never seen another guy's penis other than Bobby. Even then, he was shaking like a leaf. An erection became flaccid anytime it was exposed to Lori. She giggled a little, but remembered that she had a task at hand.

Once she pulled down his boxers, she saw that her brother was completely exposed. Her mouth became agaped when seeing the girth of her brother. "Blessed" was the word she whispered into the night. She stared for a moment. Then, she stopped. This is my brother. There is no way I would do something like that. Especially when he is not conscious.

She began to think other thoughts aside from her brother's girth. She sat up her brother to the seat, wrapped him tightly in the blanket, and fastened his seat belt.

"Okay, he is ready," called Lori to the others.

Lori got into the backseat and leaned next to Lincoln to keep watch. Leni and Clyde got into the front seat. Leni turned on the car. Music was blaring from the stereo, but was immediately cut off. The group was ready and were leaving Johnson's Creek.

While driving, the car was in silence. Nothing but the sound of the wind was acknowledging that silence.

"We can't send him home," said Lori breaking the silence. Her voice displayed urgency. "Mom and Dad would kill us if we brought him home like this."

Clyde turned and face Lori. "You all can stay with me tonight. I got some spare clothes from the time you stayed with us." He looked down. "I can take the blame for my parents when they come home tomorrow." Clyde turned away and say nothing more.

Lori wrapped her arms tightly around her sleeping brother. A surge of emotions swelled within her. Lincoln, you tremendous idiot. You damned oaf. Why would listen to that girl? You know what she is capable of? Why are such a twerp? How dare you do this. How dare you make me look stupid in front of that girl. Why, LIncoln, why? Why? Why? Why? The more she thought, the more she bathe herself into him. She rubbed her nose against his neck. She let out small moan, displaying frustration.

Why did you risk your life, she whispered. Why would you protect my honor? There is nothing to protect of me. I should be protecting you. You are more of a man than anybody I more. I should have been the one to jump off the cliff. Not you. I love you, Lincoln. She kissed him on his neck. More than you ever know. More than boy bands. More than my make up. Even more than Bobby.

She tucked her lips, continue to lean on her brother's neck. She looked forward to see if no one was looking at her. Clyde was leaning to the window, appeared to be asleep. Leni kept her eyes on the road. She turned her eyes on Lincoln.

Remember the time when you and I went to the lake with our family? It was during spring break and you just overcame the chicken pox. Sorry by the way for giving it to you. It was a beautiful day. Not a speck of a cloud in the sky. We were all relaxing at the beach. Luan was telling jokes with her puppet. Luna was practicing on the guitar. Lucy, for once, was relaxing by the beach. Yeah, she was dressed in black and spat out poems of darkness and drowning, but it was interesting to see her in a bathing suit. Then, it was you. You ran into the water like a bat out of hell. You stayed in that water as long as you could. You looked like a raisin by the time you got out of there.

Me, I was too cool for the water. Me and Leni just made chair and relaxed in the sun. Then all of a sudden, a splash of water hit me on my face. I was so mad because I had my iPod and the water destroyed it. I look to see who was the bastard who destroyed my iPod. I saw your smile and I watched it fade away when you became part of my wrath. I chase you and chase you until I cornered you in the woods. You had your hands up, telling me "I am sorry," "Please don't hurt me," "I'd pay you back."

I didn't want to hear any words, I wanted you dead. As I was about to approach you, I saw you run and push me out of the way. I fell down a small ditch and I scrapped my ankle. I became totally mad because you destroyed my iPod and now you push me. When I came back up, I saw you on the ground covered by wasp. I screamed as I grab my towel and started hitting the wasp. In time, the wasp left, but you stayed there.

I began crying, I panicked; calling for mom and dad to get here. Everybody heard me and gathered around. Mom came to you and turned you over. Dad performed CPR. We were crying, panicking. We are all praying that you make it through. Then, you started breathing. You were coughing loudly. I just dropped on my knees and cried "I am sorry."

I was sorry. I blamed myself for it. If I didn't yell and scream and chase you, then it would have never happened.

But you knew. You knew I was allergic to wasp stings. You were protecting me. So young, so young. So young and fragile, yet heroic for an eight year old. You spent those couple of nights in the hospital to protect me from my own demise.

You did so much for a person that deserved so little.

She started sobbing. She bit her hand to not let anyone noticed. It resulted in silent sniffles.

You went out of your way to protect me. A person who doesn't deserve it. You did whatever you could for me? Why Lincoln? Why do I deserve such treatment. I have called you a twerp, a simpleton, a loser, and amongst many other names. You need a big sister who deserves a better type of love than I. I am not worthy of your love.

"Who says you are not worthy?"

Lori turned to see the origin of the voice. She turned to Lincoln, but he was still sleeping. It sounded like Lincoln. She peered over his lips. He was not moving for he was sound asleep.

"Who says you are not worthy?"

The voice again. She looked at the front sleep, but it was still silent. Leni was focused on the road and Clyde was sleeping.

"I am behind you."

Lori shivered at the thought or what or who was behind her. What kind of person invaded her car while they were out. Her breathing was getting louder as she slowly tilted to the source of the voice. Her heart was beating faster as she saw the person in front of her.

It was a boy who appeared to be a young teenager. His blonde hair was long and slick like a river of wheat. His skin was paler than a sun-bleached pillar. His eyes were dark, but something about it sparked Lori. The presence, the person. She felt that they have met before.

Before she could talk, he put his finger to her lip, enticing silence.

"I don't need the others to know of me," said the boy. "Not everyone is worthy of seeing me."

Lori gulped, surprised to see a spirit standing in front of her. He remained calm, as if this was not his first time giving an encounter. As much she wanted to be scared, she didn't want to alert the others, especially.

"You can relax. I am a friendly," said the spirit. "I have no reason to harm you." He crest his eyes over Lincoln. "So, this is the boy she was looking for." He let out a small chuckle. "He is really a splitting image of me, spiritually that is."

She choked, but maintain her composure. She wanted answers. How does he know Lincoln? Who is that girl the spirit was speaking of? She was scared, but wanted to know. However, the spirit gave her a look, still promoting silence.

"I know what are you thinking," said the spirit. "I just want you to listen. In time, I explain about me." He leaned forward to her. "For now, I want to talk about you."

Lori shook her head, agreeing to listen to the story.

"You look a lot like my sister who I love dearly. A sister who I coveted. A sister who I have lost. Lost to me by the hands of time because the love we have for each other was forbidden. A love that I, too, cherished and desired."

He lifted his bangs, exposing his eyes. Lori looked at how attractive he was. He appeared to be more of a god than a spirit. Her heart was becoming warm by his sight.

"My sister reminds me a lot of you. She was always hard to deal with. She was high-maintenanced, pampering, agile, and just very difficult. Nevertheless, she was a girl that had dreams, adventures, always wanted more in life. Despite how she was around me, there was love between us. She took care of me. When I was sick, when I was hungry, when I wanted her attention. Nothing else can compare to how much I love my sister.

As time went on, our sibling love turned into something more than that. I was unaware, but she was certainly aware of the change. I can never forget the day when she stole my lips. I stood before her, tasting the watermelon she just ate before sharing our kiss. I remain stiff, frozen in the whirlwind of uncertainty. She didn't stop, I am afraid to say. She took advantage of me that day on the porch. That night, she came into my room, begging for forgiveness. She promised to me that it wouldn't happen again. I return her response with my hand cupping her cheek. Don't make a promise you are not going to keep, I told her. She moaned and kissed my hand. That night, our siblinghood turned into a covenant of lovers.

In secrecy, we shared our passionate love affair. Allowing her to take the lead, she taught me the ways of love, a language that was spoken in the words of her touch. She continued taking care of me. We kept the appearance of brother and sister, but even I knew we were becoming something more. I was still too young to understand. No matter how many times she apologized, I always held her hand. "I love you, too," was always my final response.

Our secrecy became exposed that fateful day when we were caught by the eyes of our mother. Ashamed, embarrassed, my mother casted her away. Tore the clothes of her, exposing her womanhood, banishing her from our home. She was called a harlot, a whore, an unworthy dame. I, too, was severely punished. I received lashings for my act, the priest had to perform spells for me to forget what happened, and what was worst, I could never lay eyes on my sister again.

My losing my sister became a withdrawal for me. Her love was a thirst that can never be quench, a hive that needed honey, a hummingbird who needed nutrients from a flower. I wanted her, I missed her. I didn't care if we didn't share our love again. I just wanted her presence, just my Umi."

The spirit returned his looks on Lincoln. He let out a smile while rubbing Lincoln's hair. "I envy your brother. He has a kindred spirit, something I wish I can have again."

"Wish," retorted Lori.

"Call me Nagi, by the way," answered the spirit. "I humbly apologize for not making my acquaintance any sooner. Maybe because I am compel by your beauty on see how much you remind me of my sister."

He took a breath before alerting Lori that he wanted to finish his story. "I was at the very cliff where I saw my sister again. She didn't display tears in her eyes. She appeared that she was in a daze. I saw her and my instinct told me to run. Run for your sister. Go get her while you still can. I kept running and running and running. But it was too late. She cried out my name and jumped. I screamed her name to the heavens as loud as I could. I ran to the river where I could get her. I jumped in. I swam and swam and swam. I was gathering much water. I wanted something. I wanted my sister. But, in the end, nothing. She was lost and once again, couldn't have her in my grasp."

He shook his head, more to himself on the acceptance.

"I returned home empty-handed. Alone, cold, wet, sad, angry. My parents ran to me, asking what happened. Why was I wet? I kept walking like they were part of the decor. They were nothing to me. No longer could I live in a world without my Umi, my rock. I left a trail of tears as I walked into the woods. I have nothing left to give. My mind was on her as I wrapped the rope around my neck. I knew as I suffered under my fainting breath that I wanted my final thoughts to be of her. I looked to heaven and cried her name and I took the plunge."

He began laughing. It was not mischievous or suspecting but in a form of humor.

"The gods were watching over me because the rope snapped and the ground broke my fall. I screamed in anger, frustration, telling the gods under my sinning breath that I wanted to die. Then, I felt a spirit. A spirit of a familiar being. She swayed underneath, swept me off my feet. I watched the leaves dance and the trees swifting. She was watching me." He whispered, "She was watching me."

"I lived a life of a loner. No matter how much my parents implore me to marry, I didn't. Marriages were arranged, it never last long. I didn't produce any children. No commoner or girl of royalty was going to receive my seed. Not unless it was my Umi. I carried my family's name in vain until their deaths. I lived alone and I died alone. Even as I took my last breath, shutting my eyes for the last time, my thoughts were always and forever on Umi."

Lori was awestruck. An odd feeling of confusion and compassion ebb within her. She wanted to hug him, displaying sympathy. Letting him know that she was sorrowful for him.

"Doubling back to me and where we stand, you recognize my aura," responded Nagi waving glaring softly at Lori. "I was there that day when Lincoln was attacked." He sighed lightly. He furrowed his eyes, showing hints of frustration, but it looked that it wasn't to Lori, but to himself.

"My soul is not at peace. My soul is struck in paradigm between heaven and hell. My spirit is still stuck in the appearance of my former self. I was such a young child when she died, so my body returned to the age where I had regrets. Like Umi, I was searching for her.

I'm sorry, my apologies for getting off subject. Where does you, Lincoln, and the lake fit in? Lincoln was not the one who threw the water. It was me. Call me childish, but I wanted your attention. Seeing your beauty reminded me so much of Umi. I knew you weren't her, but feeling your touch gave me a small bit of hope. I am sorry for the trouble I have caused. I am sorry that Lincoln was hurt because of me.

You and Lincoln share a bond that is similar to me and my sister. And when I saw how much you care about him made me realize that her presence is still around. Now, seeing you and the aura within Lincoln lets me know that she is close."

"Hold on a second," said Lori. She was puzzled. She had every right to be. Here she was sitting in the car having a conversation with a spirit, or Nagi, telling her that the story of Umi no Misaki was true. Or that was what she gathered from the story. "You are telling me that you are the lost love?"

He shook his head in agreement.

"And I remind you of your sister."

He shook his head again.

"I may not be the smartest girl in the world. But let me see if I can gather what I can." She took a breath, knowing what she was going to say was impossible and unexplainable. "According to the story, if a person jumps from the creek, an image of the lost lover returns. So, Lincoln is the host of the lost lover, which is you. So, the girl who killed herself is the lover of you. However, I am the host."

Nagi smiled. "Confusing, yes, but hey, this is not my story."

"I can't agree anymore. The author needs to take some classes or read a book on spirits and the rules of them."

Both laughed for a moment before returning back to the point.

"So," said Lori carefully. "What do we need to do to make you guys rest in peace."

Nagi blushed knowing the answer was going to be awkward. "I know one way. And excuse me for having this selfish request."

Nagi whispered into her ear. Her eyes widened when hearing the request. After he finished, her eyes turned to Lincoln.

"I will do it," answered Lori.

"You will," questioned Nagi while his face began glowing and his cheeks were flushed.

"If it means that you guys can reunite and rest in peace, then certainly I will do it," replied Lori with a hint of pride in her voice.

"I don't know what to say," said Nagi. "I am so happy. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" He hugged Lori tightly before returning to his composure.

She turned and faced Nagi, seeing how much it meant to him. She looked at Lincoln and let out a small smile. "I really mean a lot to you, twerp?" She returned her sights on Nagi. "I am ready."

Nagi closed his eyes and put his hands on her face. They were cold, soft, but she felt warm. She closed her eyes as she felt his cold lips hitting hers. They were soft, stiff. The kiss lasted a few moments, when she opened her eyes, he was gone.

She scanned the car, but Nagi was nowhere to be seen. She looked forward and backward, he was gone. It was not until he felt the moist hands of Lincoln.

"Lincoln," cried Lori. "Are you okay?"

"Nagi," said Lincoln. "Nagi, is that you?"

Lori questioned Lincoln until she felt something moving within her. She lost her breath when she felt something was taking over her. She wanted scream, but couldn't. Her mind began to disappear and no longer was she able to have control. It was there when she saw Nagi taking her place.

"Sorry, Lori," cried Nagi. "It will only be for awhile."

Lori couldn't help but nod. "I understand, Nagi."

Chapter Text

Lincoln was frozen in fear, lying in disbelief that his supposed guardian and surrogate father was lying beside him in bed. Despite his protest through muffling, his uncle peered over him with a stern look on his face. A look he had never seen before.

"Shh!" Uncle Yuki whispered in his ear. His grip was becoming stronger each time Lincoln was getting louder. "You will only make this worse on yourself if you don't comply with me."

Despite his protest, Lincoln was reluctant, trying whatever he could to relinquish himself from this predicament. It wasn't until Uncle Yuki retrieve a knife and displayed it in front of him.

Uncle Yuki placed the knife over Lincoln's neck, sliding it from one side of his neck to the next. He trembled, but the muffling stopped. However, it didn't stop his uncle from relieving it.

"There, there," he answered. "Quiet and docile, very good." He removes the knife and placed it in his pocket. "That is my girl. You are a good girl. And good girls don't make a fuss."

"A good girl." "Good girls don't make a fuss?" What in the hell is talking about? Those were the thoughts of Lincoln as he was still in shock of his predicament. He watched as his uncle leaned closer to him. He slipped his hand into the blanket. Lincoln flinched when he felt his uncle rubbing his leg, right above the knee.

"You have some smooth legs," Uncle Yuki responded sensually. "I forgot how often you have taken care of yourself, Takako." He continued rubbing his leg with his rough palms. He had strong grips on it while forwarding himself to Lincoln. He rubbed his nose against Lincoln's ear. His hot breath hovering over him. He pecked him on the cheek, while Lincoln cringed at the sight. He continued giving him pecks before putting his hand toward Lincoln's thighs.

Lincoln grabbed his uncle's hands before was taken aback by his other hand and was returned with a slap. "That is not how you treat your father like that, Takako," he answered with sternness. "It seems like you still don't understand how quality father-daughter time works."

"Listen, Uncle Yuki," said Lincoln with fear from his voice. "This is getting worse. Also, I am not Takako. I am not even a girl. This is not right."

Uncle Yuki let out a small smile. It appeared friendly, but within lied a more sinister purpose. "I knew you were such a character," he said with a serious tone. "You always knew how to play these games. But you should know, Takako, we always do these things to one another. That is how you show your love to me."

Uncle Yuki kissed him on his neck. He continued rubbing his hair and licking around his earlobe, making Lincoln become flushed.

"Stop," protested Lincoln. "This isn't right. I am not even like that. Please stop."

Uncle Yuki laughed while continuing to rub his thigh and biting on his ear. "You were always resistant at the beginning." Lincoln's eyes widened when Uncle Yuki put his hand around his groin area. He was very delicate, rubbing his fingers around Lincoln's dick. He edged his finger up and down while Lincoln's breath became labored by it.

"Why are you rubbing me down there," questioned Lincoln while feeling tears were forming from his eyes.

"Why not," retorted Uncle Yuki. "It is only natural for a father to embrace his daughter." He pulled the blanket from Lincoln, exposing him in his nighttime attire. Uncle Yuki reached around and got on top of Lincoln, leaving him with no position of escape. "Relax, Takako, you will feel good, trust me." He continued rubbing Lincoln's dick, grabbing it and rubbing the tip. It wasn't long until he noticed Lincoln's began leaking from his dick.

"Seems like you are getting wet," said Uncle Yuki with excitement. "It is only natural to be like this. Families should be comfortable of displaying our love. Why not?" He pulled Lincoln's panties, exposing his dick in front of him. He removed them and those them aside. Lincoln covered his dick from his uncle. Uncle Yuki let out a small smirk before forcibly removing Lincoln's hand from his dick. Lincoln flushed as his uncle began touching it.

"What the hell," cried Lincoln. "What in the hell are you doing?"

Uncle Hiro gripped him by his throat. He croaked out a cry. He wanted to alert someone. Aunt Yuki? Lori? His parents? Someone.

"What did I tell you about shutting the hell up," he responded with anger, tightly wrapping his digits around Lincoln's neck. "Did you really want to disturb your aunt. She worked too hard for an unworthy harlot like you. If anything, you should thanking her for giving you quite a feast." While keeping a hold to his neck, he unzipped his pants, exposing his throbbing member.

It looked angry, staring at Lincoln in the face. It smelled weird. For a moment, Lincoln questioned on the time frame of Uncle Hiro's last bath. It was pulsating, leaking precum every few seconds. Through the stare, Lincoln saw the hidden stare in the dark. However, the hard breath was also turning in a form of laughter.

"It seems to me that my dick has pacify your worries," said Uncle Hiro. "That is why a good daughter needs a pacifier to calm down when they are get upset." He nudged his dick closer to Lincoln, rubbing its juices on Lincoln's cheek. "God, your cheeks are soft. I didn't remember having such a soft daughter." He shrugged. "No matter, for it is time to have some father-daughter bonding." He pressed his dick toward Lincoln's lips, smearing any precum on his lips. "Look at my daughter applying lip gloss. Are you that happy for your little pacifier."

Lincoln kept his mouth close. There was no way he was going to allow another man to pick his dick in his mouth. It didn't go without noticed from the irritated Hiro.

"Playing disobedient again, aren't we," he questioned Lincoln. "Well, we just can't have that now. Can we?"

He forcefully grabbed his fingers at Lincoln's nose, causing him no other choice but to open his mouth,. Upon opening, Hiro entered his dick inside Lincoln's warm compartment. Lincoln gagged at the response. As much he tried resisting, Hiro kept a stronghold to him.

"Shut up, calm down, and take this dick," said Hiro while pressing his dick forward into Lincoln's mouth. "Damn your mouth pussy is warm. Very soft, yes. Take this dick like a lullaby, princess."

Lincoln cried as he tasted the saltiness of his surrogate uncle's dick. It tasted of sardines and it was tightly gagging his throat. He wanted to vomit, the intense smell was getting to him. He began ki ing, but was quickly stopped by Hiro as he pressed his legs, stopping the failing Hiro.

"Oh, God," cried Hiro. "Moan to daddy, Takako. Make daddy feel good. Take this cock as a symbol of our love. Yes, oh God, yes."

Lincoln began crying as he knew there was no stopping his mouth being raped from his uncle's dick.

"You are getting quiet. That is fine, but put that mouth to work. Swing your tongue around. I want to quick coat your mouth with my love," he said as he leaned forward to Lincoln's mouth.

Meanwhile, Lincoln tried to focus on something to distract him away from the pain of his current predicament. He tried to picture his family. Being in their embrace, tightly holding them, telling how much he loved them. He prayed that Lori was to get everything straighten out.

He was met with a fierce slap, returning him to reality.

"You are lacking on the job," said Uncle Hiro angrily. "If you perform poorly, I am going to make damage on your clitty." He added. "And how in the hell am I going to get grandchildren."

"Hell yeah, bitch," said Hiro. "Use that tongue. That is right. Do it for me. Do it for the others. If you want them to suffer, then take this dick, Takako."

As much he didn't want to, he had to comply. He closed his eyes and proceeded to sick Hiro's dick. Against his protest, he did not want to be harmed. He did not want to alert his Aunt Yuki. Most of all, he did not want to trouble his sister, Lori.

It went in and out of his throat. Lincoln tightly wrapped his lips around the swollen member. He hoped if he made it tight enough, then he would cum.

"Trying to make your mouth pussy like a hot pocket," questioned Uncle Hiro while laughing. "I like that." The thrusting was getting faster and faster. Lincoln was facing Hiro's pubic hair and the constant pounding until felt the warm liquid invade his throat. The saltiness and bitterness of his milk gagged Lincoln's throat. Hiro thrusted and thrusted until there was nothing left.

Without protest, Lincoln swallowed his cum, leaving a small trail dripping from his chin.

"Catching on, Takako," said Uncle Hiro. "You used to swallow my cum without leaving a drop." He took the leftover cum from Lincoln's chin. He rubbed it on Lincoln's lips. "Suck on my finger." Without a second thought, Lincoln followed his orders. "Excellent, my dearest daughter. Oh God, I am looking forward to fucking you now."

Suddenly, the door opened. The light exposed the compromising position of Uncle Hiro and Lincoln. Standing in the doorway was Aunt Yuki. She stood motionless. She was wearing a see-through nightgown. Her purple silk panties stood out from her nightgown. Her average breast exposed in the light.

"Hiro," said Aunt Yuki with a disturbed look on her face. "What in the hell are you doing with Lincoln."

Uncle Hiro moved from the bed. He adjusted his pants and walked forward to his surprised wife. He went forward and kneeled in front of her.

"I am sorry," he cried. "I didn't mean to. I didn't want to do it."

He began kissing her bare feet. She remained still with her arms folded.

"It is just I miss Takako so much," said Uncle Hiro. "Just her being here was too much to bare."

"Too much to bare," questioned Aunt Yuki. "You go and take advantage of Lincoln. You know that he isn't Takako."

He looked up to his angry wife. He continued kissing her legs, doing something to earn her forgiveness.

"This is not Takako, Hiro," said Yuki. "This is Lincoln. A boy who deserves better. You have no right of treating him in such a way."

She moved away from her husband and walked toward the distressed Lincoln. Upon seeing his aunt, he extended his arms and wailed in front of her. She rested his head on her bosom, enticing silence to him.

"Calm down, sweetheart," she told him. "I am here. Your mommy is here. Your mommy is here."

"Mommy," questioned Lincoln.

Aunt Yuki furrowed her before looking at her husband. "You should be ashamed of yourself. How dare you do such a thing. Get your things and get the hell out."

"Honey," questioned Hiro. "I can explain."

She screamed while pointing her fingers to the door. "Get out!"

Like a puppy, he whimpered and head to the door. "And closed the damned door," was the final request of Aunt Yuki before he closed the door.

Lincoln continued shivering and continued to nestle on to his aunt. "There, there," she said. "Quiet down. Silent with the tears. He is gone." Aunt Yuki examined Lincoln, seeing that there was presence of sperm and his nightgown was slightly damaged. "I am here. No one is going to hurt you. No one is going to you."

"Please stay with me," cried Lincoln. "I don't want to be alone."

She continued rubbing his hair, cooing the scared, but yet scarred Lincoln. "Mommy is going to take care. That mean 'ol man is not going to hurt you. I am staying here."

She kissed Lincoln on his forehead. Lincoln closed his eyes when feeling the warmness of her lips pressed his forehead. However, she didn't stop. She continued going. She started kissing his nose, then both side of his cheeks, and finally his lips. Lincoln muffled as her tongue invaded his mouth, tasting whatever juices his surrogate uncle left.

She broke the kiss, leaving a trail of saliva in the process. "No one is going to hurt my daughter."

"Aunt Yuki?"

Lincoln watched as her eyes became paler. She slowly disrobed, showing her nakedness. Her perky breast came and forced itself onto his nose. "No father is going to force his way to a daughter. It takes a mother to display that kind of affection."

She forced his head to her nipple. Lincoln tried to move until he felt a grip on his ass. His eyes widened from the response.

"I am glad he didn't touch you there," she said. "A maiden needs to stay intact for her husband to be." She giggled. "However, maidens don't mind practice with other roses before submitting to their husbands."

She removed her tits from Lincoln's mouth. She suddenly turned Lincoln onto his stomach. She quickly lifted his skirt and removing his panties, leaving his ass exposed.

She went on top of Lincoln, keeping him pressed below her. She took his panties and jammed them into his mouth. "This should keep you quiet." She drew spit from her mouth. "I must question your womanhood. With her fingers, she delicately inserted it into his ass. Through the muffling, he screamed as the new sensations were coming to him.

"You are still a virgin," she said. "Good, but I need to make sure that this maiden is good before training."

She kneeled down, spreading his ass cheeks as she spat on his anus. She massaged it with her fingers before placing her tongue in there. He screamed as she planted her wet tongue into his cavern.

Through that time, his thoughts return to his family. Most of all to Lori.

Help me, Lori. Save me, Lori.

Chapter Text

Coffee was a must. He must have it with two scoops of cream and two scoops of sugar. Its' brand didn't matter and what kind didn't matter, coffee was a vital drink that must be consumed. And it had to be ingested at lunch. This newfound routine became a symbol of a promise he had made with Ronnie Anne. They were sitting curbside in front of Lincoln's house. A very pleasantly warm Saturday afternoon. The weather was perfect. Not in a cloud in the sky. Peculiar for February, but both looked as a symbol from God as if this was planned. Ronnie Anne was an avid coffee drinker. She drank over two cups a day. It would have been four, but her mother forbade her to drink any further. Mom thinks princesses don't need to drink coffee. It makes us age. Ronnie Anne responded mockingly of her mother. Lincoln giggled and continued drinking his hot chocolate, a favorite drink of his for the winter. It was a must to drink hot chocolate at least once a day. What originally started as a dare from one of his sisters turned into a treat of his fancy.

Ronnie Anne boasted about her love for coffee. Lincoln in return did the same for his drink. With that teasing expression she gave to the young teen, she snatched away his drink and made it her own. In return, she gave him her drink.

"Drink,' she told him as she held the cup and consumed what was left of his hot chocolate. She was quiet, digesting the moment as she ingested his drink. However, Lincoln stared into her cup. He didn't like the taste of coffee. It tasted like chalk to him. He looked into the reflection of the murky looking coffee. His stomach churned. This was the same cup that Ronnie Anne consumed.

'What's holding you, Loud,' she turned to him, raising her eyebrow. 'Drink up.' He flushed. He knew if he drank this coffee, it is like sharing a kiss with Ronnie Anne. An indirect kiss, he concluded. Not liking the result of his punctuality, she leaned closer, closing the space between them. 'Let me do it since you are acting like a child.' She put her around Lincoln, creating support. She put her hand on his hand, putting the cup between his lips. Not wanting to further disappoint her, he opened his mouth and consumed it. He drank a few gulps before returning the cup, creating a trail of saliva between his lips and the cup.

She grinned. She was well aware of his distaste for coffee but knowing it wasn't long before her departure, she wanted one more reminder of seeing his disgusted face. She tucked in her stomach, laughing at the flustered Lincoln.

'That isn't funny,' he said while his facing was beet red. 'You know how much I hated that…' It gets interrupted when she envelopes her lips to Lincoln. He muffled for a few moments until he gave in to her kisses. The taste of hot chocolate and coffee served as fuel for the lovers as they shared their kiss; for it was going to be the last of kisses for quite a while. How long, they both thought, that was something neither wanted to think.

Lincoln got his thermos and took a seat by the window. Seeing the outside gave him reminders that freedom was outside of those doors. He inhaled sharply, but quiet enough to not alert the others. Most of the students were outside eating their lunch. The temperature hasn't drop, so many took advantage before the Midwest weather makes its frozen greetings. Seeing isolated pockets of empty seat gave Lincoln a few moments of happiness. He can be alone.

Aside from Life Science and Art, lunch was a very important part of the day. A thirty-minute adult-free, subject-free moment where he can be a kid. He can eat lunch without having to worry about romanticism or the evolution of man or drawing a pythagorean theorem. He can have his grilled cheese with jelly sandwich and his coffee; and also a must, a comic book. So, two things to enjoy before returning to the painstaking world of academics.

Even I am going to treat these thirty minutes like a mini-vacation.

Before he could touch the cover of his Sakura Diaries manga, a lunch tray loudly hit the table. Lincoln didn't look up. For it was only one person who wanted to get his attention. The same person he has spoken to at his locker and after English class. He closed his book because he knew nothing more was going to progress from it. Thinking to himself, he should have known better/

"Hello, Rusty," said Lincoln, staring at his acne-faced acquaintance.

"Hey, Lincoln," replied Rusty as he sat across from Lincoln. Lincoln saw that he had hit the salad bar.

"Going on a diet," asked Lincoln. He couldn't resist.

Rusty raised his eyebrow. "Diet? Hell, no." He scanned again, seeing if anyone was listening to their conversation. He pressed forward to Lincoln. "I have been checking on the new girl," he whispered. Lincoln frowned from the feeling of his hot breath. As a precaution, he covered his mouth. He suggested to Rusty to do the same as a measure to block their conversation and also doing it without hurting his feelings.

"Ok, I am hearing that Summer is a vegetarian," said Rusty. "It will be vital if she sees some people of her own kind." He took a bite of his carrot salad. Upon his first taste, Lincoln knew it had to be disgusting. However, Rusty continued smiling, eating the dish he knew he didn't like.

"So, this is your approach to getting Summer to like you," questioned Lincoln while displaying a sly look. "Listen, Rusty. I am not a Casanova like you, but would it be easier to just talk to her?"

Rusty dropped his fork. The expression he gave Lincoln was if Lincoln just insulted him. "Are you crazy?" He yelled at Lincoln, resulting in some chewed carrots hitting Lincoln's face. And got some attention from the other students. Rusty lowered his voice. "You don't talk to the silent beauty! The silent beauty talks to you!"

Lincoln wiped his face. "Wait a minute. Silent Beauty?"

Rusty nodded his head. "That is her nickname that many are giving her. Silent Beauty."

"She just been here one day. My God does reputation flies quickly."

"C'mon dude! It is not everyday to have a cutie like that entering our school."

"She is cute just like the other girls. The only difference is that she is a foreigner."

"A foreigner," questioned Rusty with an expression that he wanted to slap Lincoln on the spot. "She is not a foreigner, she is a beauty beyond beauty. From what many are telling me, she used to be a model back in Japan."

Lincoln chuckled. "Ok, man. You have been reading too much, I mean, too much manga."

Rusty edged away from Lincoln. He knew there was no way of convincing him to follow the Summer wave. He folded his arms. "I forget that this doesn't matter to you because you still have it for Ronnie Anne." He sighed. "It must feel good to have a girlfriend."

Lincoln slid his food from front of him. He needed to time to clear his thoughts before producing something to Rusty. He rubbed his forehead, still finding the right words to say to him.

He took a breath, finding some words to give to him.

"I do enjoy my relationship with Ronnie Anne. I care about her. I love her. I will do anything for her. But, understand that relationships aren't as cracked up to be."

"Easy for you to say," said Rusty. "At least you have a girl."

"I do. I do. I am just saying that you should not worry about these kinds of things. Your time will come."

"I want it to come now," he urged Lincoln as he returned to his salad. "I must learn to love salad if I want Summer to like me." He dropped his fork, returning his eyes back to Lincoln. "Dude, I forgot! You have been interacting with Summer, haven't you?"

Lincoln raised his eyebrow and furrowed his face. "What?"

Rusty hit the table. "I remembered that you did. You did! You have classes with the Silent Beauty. The deets! You must give me the deets! What was I thinking to forget such an important topic such as this. The Summer wave is getting to me."

"The Summer Wave," questioned Lincoln. "You know what, I am not going further than that." He laughed before returning to his first thought. "Ok, Summer seems like a decent girl. I barely had any interactions with her."

"So, she has spoken to you?"

"Small talk like "hello" and "thanks." He shrugged. "Other than that, nothing!"

"More than us," retorted Rusty.

Lincoln continued listening to Rusty's rants about Summer. He continued asking him questions about her likes, her dislikes, her hobbies, her interests, and the like. He drifted away as he began drinking his coffee. His thoughts on Ronnie Anne returned to his mind. He began thinking on what she could be doing in her new town. Have her likes changed? Her dislikes? Her hobbies? Her interest? They continued to talk on the phone weekly. They do the occasional text. Ronnie Anne was accepted at a performing arts school in Chicago. Her mother discovered her secret talent for singing. Lincoln smiled at the four hour conversation they had about her going to that school. He pictured that evening lying in bed while she ranted about that school. All the while, he pictured her signing to him. And not just to him, lying next to him as well.

Feeling that crinkled envelope only provoked the lovestruck Lincoln to turn in that letter.

"Mind if I sit?"

Lincoln returned to reality. His face drifted to the source of the voice. Rusty's mouth was agape. In front of them was the Silent Beauty herself, Summer Makoto. She held her lunch bag gracefully as if it needed to be handled with care. Her warm smile can lighten anyone's day. Her green almond eyes shined in the light; jewelry couldn't compare to her worth. Her bangs covered her hair, but it was very attractive. Her rosy lips quivered, but it was intimidating.

To not further awkward the moment, Lincoln broke the silence. "Sure, you can sit us. Pick any spot you like."

"Thanks," she answered quietly. Rusty eyed as well as other students from the cafeteria saw Summer making her graceful steps to sit next to Lincoln.

Upon her having a seat, all eyes in the room were on Lincoln. Murmurs and whispers of the student body stared at the two. Summer paid it no mind as she opened her lunch bag to get her food.

Lincoln remained calm. He was not going to have the attention on him. He resumed back to eating his lunch. He peeked at Summer's lunch. It was a very simple lunch. She had an omelette and a side of rice. Her drink was a diet soda. Nothing more, nothing less. She pulled out a handkerchief to cover her lap. Lincoln caught its scent. It smelled of a moist flower.

Even for a moment, Lincoln was caught staring at her.

She turned to Lincoln, returning a warm smile before resuming her meal.

Lincoln was caught between a rock and a hard place. He was in a position he did not want to be. He was being stared by his peers for sitting next to the new girl. He feared that if it continued, then the quiet middle school life he wanted would disappear.

I didn't ask for this. It is not my fault I am in this position. I just want to go to school and be done with it. Also, I have a girlfriend.

She nudged him with her elbow. "You have a cool lunch," she said. "What kind of sandwich is that?"

Lincoln turned to Rusty, as if he needed assistance with the next move. Rusty jolted his head at the sandwich, insisting him to follow her question.

"Um, it's a grilled cheese and jelly sandwich," he said.

She giggled while covering her mouth. "That sounds...that sounds...how I can say this...delectable." Lincoln felt the wave of energy from the other students hitting him. Many of the males were covering their mouths. The girls were blushing.

"May I have a bite," she asked Lincoln. She pointed to the sandwich.

He turned his eyes back to Rusty. Rusty jolted his head again.

"Sure," replied Lincoln.

With her manicured hands, she took the sandwich and placed it into her mouth. She began eating the sandwich, however, it was very sensual feeling. From their angles, it looked as if she was making out. She continued for a few moments until she put the sandwich down.

Lincoln's breath became heavier. Summer smiled. "That was delicious. Thanks, Lincoln."

Suddenly, she came to his face. She rubbed it bringing back a crumb from his sandwich and putting it in her mouth.

In result, Lincoln got an erection. Lincoln stood up from his seat.

"What is the matter, Linc," questioned Rusty.

He stammered. "I just remembered that I have to get some things for my next class. I got to go. See you."

He grabbed his book and headed for the exit. He was grateful to have his book. A good cover for his erection.

I caught a boner and to a girl that wasn't Ronnie Anne. Oh, my God. Who is this girl?

Chapter Text

I need to clear my head so I have decided to spend my weekend out of the house, alone. Why may you ask? You spend an hour, no, a day living in a five bedroom house with ten sisters. A place where space is an anomaly and time to yourself is an aberration. I was in a sea of estrogen. A mayhem where one sister fights over who gets to wear the same exact dress. A mayhem where one sister keeps pranking on you and delivers bad, I mean bad puns. A sister who randomly appears out of nowhere to deliver her qualms of the day. Another sister who wants you to keep writing her song lyrics for a band who I honestly think is terrible. The nails of mice, scratching for dear life, on mouse traps can make better rhythm than that. Alas, I escape the sea of foolishness and decided to spend my weekend alone.

I mean alone. It is not every day where I can have that kind of thing. That is the best thing to call it, a thing. Even during the weekend, my IQ dies a little. Why not, I spend over 40 hours being institutionalized to become something I bound to hate. So, why not kill a brain cell or two with my Nintendo 3DS? I already decided to go back to the classics of playing Super Smash Bros. Melee. I even have Bayonetta and Final Fantasy X-V on backup in my back pocket.

So, you can say that this is going to be a game-filled day. Alone, by myself. No siblings, no friends, no one. Just me, myself, and I. Finding the Lincoln within myself. Nothing wrong with spending quality time by yourself. You get to better yourself on things you couldn't do with others. Like playing video games for instance. With my Nintendo 3DS with me, I can have a great day.

Excuse my repetition, it is not everyday I can say that. This newfound freedom is really tasty. The air tastes different. My head feels clear. Cloud 9 from this point on, my absent friends. I am even thinking of going to grab some lunch by myself and go to the comic book store by myself. Maybe, just maybe, I am going to catch a movie, by myself.

Aren't I a lone wolf? No, that is not right. A black sheep running with a pack of wolves who decided to go solo. I am a free man. The world is my oyster. Nothing can stop me. Lincoln Loud is free to come and go as he pleases. I am making these steps of being my own man, man. Don't you understand? Of course. There isn't anybody to validate me. Now, it is time.

That is because I am still standing in front of my doorstep.

The park is my first destination. I pick this place because I needed something that doesn't say confined, finite space. Being out in the open, inhaling the spring air. Getting warmth on my pale, winter skin. Hearing sounds of nature instead of hearing screams of an imminent war.

Once, I tried defusing a tirade between my elder sisters and a dress. I am not doing that shit again. Oops, did I say shit? Oh wait, no one can hear me. No one can get me trouble for my vulgarity. My sisters are not here. I am all alone.

Shit, shit, shit, fuck, cunt, bitch, ass, twat, stupid, bitch, penis.

That is enough. Even I don't curse as much. Once again, newfound freedom.

Vagina.

Now, I am finished.

Vagina and penis.

Ok, now I am finished, seriously.

I scrape the moss from the bench so I can have a seat. The wooden bench tells a tale greater than my own pubescent life. Scrawled graffiti tells me what has occurred before me. Ink pens and markers depict a story of what happened at this very bench. I was once told that this is the very bench that the original member from No Doubt shot himself. If I look closely, I can see the faded stains of the deceased member. I felt bad for the man. Only moments away from success. Maybe he had the same notions like myself. Wanted alone time, wanted space. So went further than the edge. I thank the Lord that I am nowhere near that mark.

I do question the credibility of this story. We live in Michigan. The incident occurred in California. Was the bench brought here? Was there a celebration to commemorate this former No Doubt artist?

I need to stop. These thoughts are taking up space and filling whatever time I have available. I remove more moss from the bench and take a seat.

It is empty. Not surprised for a Saturday morning. Even before the crows caw, my sisters are ready to engage. Do they have a meeting or something? A mini-conference in one of their rooms? Are they are serving coffee, hot chocolate, makeup samples or something? I can imagine Lori or Luna or Lynn being the presenters of the mini-conference. All sitting with their hands on their knees. I can imagine a whiteboard in front of them with agendas for the day.

How to ruin Lincoln's Day?

I can hear them taking place of positions of responsibilities of filling that role. They practice, prepare, and engage in attacking. When the day is done and my day is ruined, they celebrate with hot chocolate and mini-pedicure at my expense.

Ok, I need to stop thinking again. I have already wasted…. Let me see my phone, 12 minutes of time I can be using in playing video games. I take out my Nintendo and I commence the Super Smash Bros. Melee.

I pick Link as my character as I proceed to fight Yoshi, Mario, and Samus in combat. My goal was to complete much of the campaign mode as possible before coming home this evening. Tomorrow, I have to go clothes shopping with my mother and my sisters. So, my schedule is already filled. Therefore, I have about 8 hours to get this right before one of them notices my absence.

I have made the right decision, I think. I feel at peace. I don't have nothing to worry about. Just quietness of the park, the sounds of birds tweeting, and my playing video games.

My super ultra fun alone Saturday in the park.

"Hey there, young boy, what are you doing here?"

I become stunned. Who is behind me? That voice. It is a strong husky tone. Although feminine, it sounds very masculine at the same time. I feel her presence standing behind me. I am about to turn around until she peeks around the corner, leaving hardly any space.

She is very tall for a woman. She appeared to be in her late teens to early twenties. Five foot eight inches, maybe five foot ten inches. She is a brunette, with hint of red at the roots. She is of Asian descent. Judging by her brown skin tone, she could be from Southeast Asia, maybe. She wears a smile. I say "wear" because I feel a bit unwelcomed by her presence. She stands behind me like I appear to be prey. I am on my guard. I have to be because you never know when strangers lurk.

Strangers nowadays can be women as well.

"Are you talking to me," I ask her cautiously. My eyes are on her. She is observing me. I know that she is watching my move. Waiting for some kind of reaction to occur. I am uncertain, but I am wearing a mask myself. I have a poker face. I have to remain calm.

"Of course, silly," she says with a smile. "Who else could I be talking to?" She slides her hair, showing me her eyes. "What is a cute boy like yourself sitting out here alone?"

I wanted alone time. What else? I wanted to get away from the cesspit I called my sisters. I wanted to play video games, alone.

"I am just playing video games," I tell her. "I didn't think there was a problem being alone."

She is taken aback. She gives me a little space. Her expression changes. "I am sorry, boy. I hope you aren't offended by what I have said. I was wondering why you are playing by yourself?"

I respond, calmly and collectively. "My mom tells me to never talk to strangers. If I don't know who you are, then I have no reason to talk to you." I turn my head back to the game. "Sorry, but I can't talk to you."

I return to my game, but I am noticing that she is not leaving my sight. She stays in the same position, barely giving me any space now. I remain calm. I have my left hand on my pocket. If I feel threatened, my phone is at reach.

"I am sorry," she tells me. "I don't want you to think that I am weird. I am not a weirdo or anything. I thought you look lonely and decided to pay you a visit." She comes around the bench and she takes a seat. My eyes widened when she pulls out a Nintendo 3DS.

"You see, I am a gamer as well, boy," she says calmly. "I, too, can feel lonely sometimes. So, I come out here and play games. I like playing games with other people." She shows me her console. "I am playing the same game as you. I was sitting by that tree when I heard that same music playing in the background. And I thought to myself, "It will be awesome to link up with somebody." So, here I am." She extends her hand. "My name is Luka."

I see her redden hand come in contact with me. Though, apprehensive, I don't want to be rude. I return her handshake. "I am Lincoln. Lincoln Loud."

She smiles heavily. "Nice to make your acquaintance, Lincoln." She returns to her console. "You wouldn't mind if we link up and fight with each other, can we?"

Linking up with each other doesn't sound bad. It is the middle of the day and I am starting to see people entering the park. Maybe a game or two wouldn't hurt. When the time is right, politely make my leave.

"Sure," I tell her. "We can link up."

We are heavily engaged in this melee. She picks Zelda as her choice. She must have read the official manual or studied cheat codes because she was awesome in the game. We play many rounds with the score of her outdoing me.

"Sorry, I am kicking your butt, Lincoln," she says. "But I am a master of Melee."

I am straining my fingers to keep up. No matter how much I am using my best character, she has the best of me. After playing a few rounds, I accepted my defeat.

"Oh, man," she tells me. "I am so sorry. But I must say that you were really close in beating me." She pats my back. "An honorable defeat and I must say again I am proud for your effect."

Flushed, a bit embarrassed. I return her with a smile. "Thanks."

Luka tells me about some of the games that she has in Nintendo Expansion Pack. She is a huge fan of all of the Super Smash Bros. series. She says she has gone to conventions to attain the product. She also tells me that she is a proud otaku.

"So, you have Bayonetta, Final Fantasy? Cool games. A great start for an amateur," she says proudly, pressing to her flat chest.

"Excuse me," I tell her, taken aback from her comment. "These games, ma'am, is a great start. Plus, I must say I am a better gamer on Final Fantasy than anything else."

She slides her hair again. "Really," she says, showing all of her teeth. "You are telling me that you are betting, Lincoln."

I smile. "Sounds about right, Luka."

She shakes her head. "Ok, I got you, Lincoln." She stands up and faces me. "I have a better game that we can play that I must say I am quite a master."

"You don't say?"

"I do," she giggles. "I left my stuff behind the trees over there. I keep them there so that no one can steal my stuff."

"So, you are a frequent visitor to this park?"

She licks her lips. "In a way, yes." She starts to walk to the direction of her stuff. "Follow me, I may have some games I can let you borrow."

I walk with her to the area where she left her stuff. She held some bushes so that I can have room to go through. She is right. There are rows of trees that surround such a tiny area. Bushes are even covering this area. Very peculiar, but I know she picked a right location to protect her stuff.

In front of me, I see her backpack. She tells me that the materials are in there. Being casual, I go and reach for the backpack. I get on my knees as I open the backpack. Inside, I was astounded by what I have saw. She has plenty of the latest games for the Nintendo. She even has the console for the Nintendo GameCube and the Nintendo Switch.

"Whoa," I say surprisingly. "You have a treasure trove in here."

She giggles. "I do, sweetie. Just something that let the boys know I like to play."

As I dig further into the backpack, I felt a hand reaching around my hips. I blush. No, I flinch upon contact. I automatically know that it is Luka.

"Luka," I say. "What are you doing?"

"Didn't I tell you, Lincoln," she tells me with a smirk. "I want to play a game." She grips tighter around a waist. "A more adult appropriate game."

My breath becomes labored. I am honestly scared. I should have known better. I should have damn known better to not go anywhere with a stranger. I am not in a trap. I have to sit still. Who knows what weapons she may have if I cry out.

She smirks. "Don't be scared. I don't have any weapons." She shows me her hands. "Nothing. I won't hurt you, I swear." She returns her hands on my hips.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I like playing with young boys. I like spending time with them. It helps take the pain away," she tells me. "Tell you what? Let's make a deal. Go into my backpack and get my purse." She adds. "It is not a trick, I promise."

Cautiously as I can be, I go into her backpack and get her purse.

"Open it up," she tells me.

As instructed, I do. I see that she has a multitude of one-hundred dollar bills in her purse.

"Now, do you believe me?"

I nod my head.

"Excellent," she purrs. "I make a deal with you. If you allow me to play a game with you, then I will give you $200 for your time."

I am taken aback by her comment. $200? I can buy as many games as I want. I can go purchase tickets to go to the next SMOOCH concert in Detroit. I turn around to her. Her chin already taking its place on my shoulder. "What are you offering," I ask her.

"Simple," she says. "Play with me for awhile. When I am done, you get the money. Simple as that."

"Play," I say. "That's all."

She puts her hands up. "On my honor as a gamer that I will make this deal."

I sigh. "Ok, I will do this."

"Great," she says while hugging me. "Thank you. I wouldn't know what to do if you have said "no."" She slides her hands down to my pants, where she presses firmly. She rubs her chin against my neck. "First thing about the game is that you need to remove your pants. Once you do that, then we can get started."

She kisses me on my neck. Wet, firm kisses impact me, leaving me with sensations I have never felt before. Especially when it goes beyond a kiss of your mother.

She rubs my chest, tugging at my shirt. She whispers in my ear. "Take off your shirt also."

In the back of my mind, something tells me that this is wrong. But, I keep thinking about the $200. Going against my better judgement, I decide to follow her orders. It is just taking off clothes.

What more can it be?

Chapter Text

The sporting goods store was where Lincoln can be found. He was in the fitting room trying out swimming wear for his next visit with Ms. DiMartino. He wasn't alone. Clyde, Luna, and Sam were the group to join Lincoln on his venture. On the surface, he told the girls, as they were going to the mall, that he needed to go so he can try out some gear. They didn't mind. They enjoyed the company. Along with Clyde and a $10 finder's fee, the crew made their adventure to the mall.

Lincoln has been trying different outfits for about an hour. Normally, he would never fathom trying out clothes, let alone stepping foot into a clothing store, but he wanted a swimsuit that labeled him as "mature."

He stepped out of the fitting room. Clyde was on his cell phone reading a magazine before seeing the next swimsuit Lincoln was going to display.

Clyde waved his hands with a tilt. "It's so-so, but it doesn't say, I am a grown man. It says I am a target for pedophiles."

"Damn it," replied Lincoln, displaying his frustration. "This is the thirteenth gear I've tried." He hit himself in the face. "Where is my direction?"

Clyde intervened, which was typical for a wingman and best friend of many years. "If you want my advice, you are trying too hard." He looked around the other swimsuits Lincoln tried out. "You want something that shows I can do my job. Not like you are starring in a bad, poor-quality porno."

"That was the point," interjected Lincoln with strong certainty in his voice. "I wanted something that showed my goods. Giving her a view of my assets."

Clyde grinned, showing his humor. "For cleaning a pool? Lincoln, this is DiMartino! I honestly don't think she gives a damn about how you look. We are kids!"

Lincoln looked away. He still hasn't had the heart to tell him of his previous encounters with Ms. DiMartino. Since his last visit, she has keep their usual relationship with each other. She remained friendly, spoke casually with Lincoln, and always present to bid him farewell when he left. Occasionally, she displayed her flirtations through winking, blowing kisses, and mouthing words like, I miss you or Can't wait to see you again.

Lincoln saved her image of her bathrobe and put it in his computer. He kept it as fuel whenever he had the urge to release some tension. He did not tell Clyde because he feared of the repercussions of his seeing an older woman. Normally, he didn't keep secrets from Clyde. But this time, he had to keep this in secrecy.

"I know I am a child, but a child can dream, can I," said Lincoln with a fake pout.

"A dreamer you are, my friend," concluded Clyde as he tried another outfit for Lincoln to wear. "Give this one a go." He gave the swimsuit to Lincoln. "It is orange and fits you."

"Alright, I will give it a go," said Lincoln as he returned back to the fitting room.

As he trying out his outfit, Clyde came to the front of his stall. "Hey, Lincoln, can I ask you something?"

"I may have your answer."

"Lately, my cousin and I have been spending some time together."

"You mean, Juri?"

"My only cousin that I know of."

"Yeah, what's wrong? Not liking your cousin."

"It is not that. Lately, I have been feeling funny around her."

"Funny? Funny how?"

Clyde sighed loudly, even to the point that it concerned Lincoln. "Don't tell no one, but I have been an extension to an assignment if you know what I mean."

He was taken aback. They are best friends. He, too, had felt the same thing whenever he was with Ms. DiMartino. However, he had been relieving his tensions thanks to advice that he researched on the internet.

"I don't think I am the right candidate for this, man," said Lincoln. "This is something I think you need to have a talk with your dads."

"I can't go to them," interjected Clyde. "They don't need to know. Having those feelings for my cousin is kind of a sin."

"Dude, what you are parents are you doing is considered kind of a sin," he said. "No offense!"

"None taken," answered Clyde. "Still surprised about your sister Luna and her dating a girl."

Lincoln shrugged. "Not surprised. There is eleven of us. One of us was bound to be gay." He was putting on his swimsuit. "Or in her case, bi!" He was checking himself in the mirror. "Like I was saying dude, I think." He paused, trying to better the situation, or at least cushion the blow. "I think it is smart that you go to your parents. At least, you can explain about your feelings for girls. It doesn't have to be about your cousin." He added. "Is it your cousin or her goods?"

Clyde went silent for a few moments. Lincoln knew that he was giving his question some thought.

"Probably a little of both," concluded Clyde.

"I like this outfit," said Lincoln as he opened the door to show it to Clyde.

"Looks nice," answered Clyde as he gave Lincoln a thumbs up.

"But, back to my question, dude," said Lincoln. "Just talk to your dads about you feeling some kind of way for girls. No pressure, dude." I am not going to be responsible if his parents catches him jerking off based on what I told him to do. Zero chance, dude!

"It won't be weird," asked Clyde.

Lincoln raised his eyebrows while putting his hands to his hip. "You must have forgotten about the embarrassing week I had at school? The bribe, the pictures, sex ed. Shall I continue?"

Clyde laughed. "Oh, man. I am so sorry, dude. I forgot about that week for you."

"Yeah," said Lincoln while giving himself a self-deprecating laugh. "As I represented myself alone for Ms. DiMartino, your ass was spending time at the beach. Lucky you!"

Sam and Luna arrived to the fitting room where they saw Clyde and Lincoln. Luna came and saw the gear that Lincoln was wearing.

"I like it, Linc," answered Luna with strong affirmation. "Just the right shade of orange."

"Well, it seems I got approval of it," said Lincoln. "I will take it."

Lincoln purchased the swimsuit for his upcoming visit with Ms. DiMartino. It wasn't going to be for another three days, but he was already looking forward to what things he was going to experience next. He was already feeling the itch.

The group were at the food court. Luna purchased ice cream for all of them. The group partook on their dairy treat as they were crowd watching. Normally this favorite pastime between siblings was a joy, but Lincoln was too consumed with his upcoming Saturday.

What is she going to show me next?

Will she wear a bikini for next time?

Will she go naked?

Is she good at teaching me new tricks?

Is she a good kisser?

Will she spank me again?

His thoughts were interrupted when he got a text on the phone. He saw it was from his Latin beauty. He told the others he was headed to the restroom and left with haste. He found a stall to open the message.

Hey, beautiful, I am looking forward to this weekend. These last few days have been aching me. I am excited to spend the day with you. I hope you had learned your lesson from last time. Or unless, you want a repeat ;)

Ms. D.

P.S.: remember to delete this message after you read this. The same for the next message as well.

He received another text. He opened the image and saw it was a one-piece blue swimsuit. The material look slicked. He imagined that tightening around the right areas for Ms. DiMartino. He was feeling the itch again.

See your Saturday, Lincoln.

Ms. D.

He burned that image of the swimsuit into his memory. He kissed the phone before deleting the images. He hummed as he exited the restroom and returned to the food court.

Three more days to go, Lincoln. Three more days!

Chapter Text

Tonight is going to be a cold one. I can feel it in the air.

He zipped his windbreaker to the collar as he crossed the street to get to his destination. A line of cars watched as the young gentleman extended his hand to drivers that he was crossing the street. The cold hit his fingertips, acting like a thermometer to alert of the obvious chill. He wished he would have gotten those gloves before he left the house. His mother worried that if he continued to forget those things, he would catch a cold. That never really worried Lincoln. He always have a strong constitution when fighting the elements. Sickness was a rarity like his fondness of being outdoors. Two things that can never keep Lincoln down: being sick and heading outdoors.

At seventeen years old, Lincoln kept a steady head when it came to his direction. He claimed to get it from his father. His mother debated that theory. Regardless of whose genes he inherited, he knew that Art was the direction he was going for. His plans of being a comic book artist was going to be in fruition. That was all he wanted to do. He never wanted much. Lincoln was a simple child. His demands were bare. He listened to his parents. He took care of his younger siblings. He kept decent grades in school; enough to get him qualified for college. He was never troublesome. He had his best friend, Clyde and a small handful of friends. He didn't have a girlfriend, but it didn't matter. What he had was enough to keep him satisfied.

Once in his British Literature class, Lincoln had to write his own definition of average. In his words it was define, doing the minimum without exceeding or descending. Being in the middle; not doing too much or doing too little. His response was somewhat received by his teacher. He made a B on that assignment. It didn't faze him at all.

He made it across the street where his destination was adjacent from the shopping center. The shopping center was recently erected nearly a year ago. What used to be a vacant lot was converted into a multipurpose shopping venue. What he heard on the news that the point of the shopping center was to bring culture into his vanilla town. Vanilla, he thought as he chewed on a piece of gum. He knew that the mayor wanted to bring something to the bland city. He couldn't blame him. A sleepy town nestled in the Casablanca-like city of Detroit was going to bring people from any walks of life. So standing beside him was a two-story gray marbled building. An array of restaurants, variety stores, beauty supplies, a bakery, and a dental office was his proof of showing the alleged culture of the town.

He walked by the billboards displaying their shops in different languages. He smelled the incense coming from the African beauty supply shop. The smell of tamagoyaki from the upstairs Japanese restaurant was appealing. The variety store was holding a sale on winter gear for the approaching spring. All of which didn't mattered to Lincoln because his destination was the arcade.

The arcade was built a few months after the shopping center. The owner, which owned Grubbs, and a connoisseur of Sega, Atari, and Nintendo attempted to bring the '90s into its former glory. Word around school was that the owner went overseas and bought the machines secondhand. Abandoned merchandise that was collected dust in some warehouse in Thailand or Malaysia or someplace. Regardless, he was itching for some retro playing and he had enough coins to last him through the day.

The area itself was empty on Fridays. The Garden District was not that top choice for the residence. Many of its residence were either heading to Windsor in Canada or either to the new multiplex in town. Lincoln hasn't got a chance to check it out. According to Clyde, the theatre has reclining cushioned seats, 3-D in every room, and every five movies you attend, free popcorn on the sixth purchase. That was where Clyde and including his family was going tonight. Not Lincoln, he chose the other route. He intend all day to empty his pockets on Monster Hunter, Mortal Kombat, and Fatal Instinct. Therefore, that was he was planning to do. He didn't mind. It wasn't wrong being by himself, he concluded.

The watch on the front door displayed it to be a quarter after seven. About four hours to get his video game grind on and munch on some chilli cheese nachos. The bell ringed as he opened the door, alerting anybody that somebody was here. Where was everybody? He scanned and saw just humming monitors of machines that needed to be played. The neon lights and glitter of this arcade wonderland was making the young Lincoln water.

This beats the multiplex any day, he thought. He chagrined at the approach of the coin machine. He had to exchanged in tokens with dollars. He went to the counter so he can get his tokens and play. He pressed the bell for a worker. He waited a few seconds before someone exited from the door that said Management.

A young woman walked out of the door with a lovely look of pure beauty. She was wearing gothic lolita clothing. Her legs were clad in black lace high heel boots. Her dress was long and frilly, something that reminded Lincoln of Harujuku-Japanese fashion or Misa Amane's character in Death Note. Her long black hair flowed like a river of silk. Her face was a ghastly white, but reminded him of a china doll. She wore black gloves on each hand that extended to her elbows. What completed the set was donning the black umbrella beside her as she walked to the register. She didn't look like an employee, but a girl preparing for a cosplay convention.

She gently made her way to him. She pursed her lips, as if she was preparing for the next move. She drew her eyes at Lincoln. Those green eyes were very alluring, to the point why he was there in the first place.

"Welcome to Valkyrie's." There was a strong musk of perfume that impacted his nostrils. It smelled of strawberries and bubblegum. Her breath smelled of cherries. Her voice was deep, but such maturation. Just those three words made assurance to Lincoln that she was the woman in charge. "How can I help you this evening, child?"

He shook his head to return to the matter at hand. "Yes, ma'am," he mustered to say. "I wanted to exchange these coins to get some tokens."

She waved her hands, suggesting to Lincoln to give her the coins. He reached into his pocket, jumbling to get the coins to the woman. It hit the table with a sharp impact. Lincoln whispered and bow as apology as if he broke a rule. The woman laughed as she covered her mouth. He saw her well-manicured nails and they were sharp to the tip.

She counted the coins before opening up the register to give Lincoln some bills. "You're my first customer I had today," she managed to say as she handed the bills to Lincoln. "Was the multiplex full this evening?"

"No, ma'am. That was not it. I like playing video games. I prefer that than sit."

"That makes one of you. A pity, I thought that this arcade would pull customers."

"How long have you been here?"

"A few weeks. I am the general manager here. Grubbs hired me to help him out. I go way back with the old man," she winked.

Lincoln laughed to not bring any awkwardness. He thanked her as he put the bills into his pocket.

"Listen, what is your name by the way?"

Lincoln turned the mysterious beauty. "Lincoln."

"Lincoln," she retorted. "A great name for this white-haired chair. Listen, are you honest like Abe?"

"What?"

She chuckled. "Just a little presidential humor. Your name is Lincoln and the president's last name...well you know."

He rubbed the back of his head. "I get that alot sometimes. Well, honestly, not really."

"See, you can be honest." She got comfortable, leaning her chin on her hand while her elbow rested on the counter. "I am sorry. I didn't give you my name. The name is Willow."

"That is a pretty name. Any reason for it? Is it like a flower or something."

"Something like that," she chuckled while covering her mouth. "It is a nickname. My name is sort of complicated. I am unsure if there is a direct translation for it."

Lincoln laughed. "That is funny. If I can take a guest. Maybe something of Nordic or Scandinavian or Icelandic?"

"Close, but still a bit from the European wave. It is a big place, Lincoln."

"Judging by your accent, I am a bit close."

"You are smart, Lincoln. Are you in school?"

"Senior Year."

She hissed loudly. "I remember those days. Feels like centuries since then."

"Like what, four, five years ago?"

She purred. He felt the chuckle vibrating coming from her as well. "Quite some time ago. You wouldn't believe you if I tell you." She looked at the arcade games before returning her sights on Lincoln. "Tell you what? I am in a good mood this evening." She pulled some token from the register. Must been for reservation, he thought. "Since you are the only one here and since you are being friendly, why not play some games together. On me."

"Sure, I don't mind. In fact, that would be great!"

Lincoln honestly wanted a partner. There was a Mario Kart 64 and Cruisin' World game nearby. He caught it as he entered the place. With nothing but time on his hands, he commenced to gaming.

Willow and Lincoln played Mario Kart 64. Both combated in skills as both desired to win first place. Lincoln chose Luigi and Willow chose Peach. They used every trick of the trade for victory. It was at the final lap where Lincoln was in the lead. It disappeared when Willow shot a turtle shell, defeating Lincoln. Willow tossed peace signs to Lincoln for her winning.

"Boo-yah! Gotcha, sucka!" She stuck her tongue out and put her thumbs in her ears. "I told you I am the boss of this game." She smiled widely, which made Lincoln noticed her teeth.

"Some sharp canines," he said. "Wouldn't come close to any meal you like."

She giggled. "You're funny, Lincoln. I, too, would be careful as well. They can definitely shred some things, especially meals."

He rubbed the back of his head. "It was a good game. Honestly, it was. It feels good to lose sometimes."

"You sound like it is a bad thing by your tone of voice. Is everything okay?"

"It's fine. I don't want it to concern you."

"Hey," she interjected while placing her hands on her hips. "We played games. We made a bond. We are basically siblings. I don't mind being a big sister to you. You can share your deets with me, girlfriend." The latter half she chuckled.

"Just changes is all. Everything feels so out of touch these days. Nothing is really the same."

"I am more than welcomed to talk about it."

"Nah, just a feeling. Want to play some more?"

"Sure. Let me get so more tokens."

Lincoln and Willow played games from Mortal Kombat to Starfox to Street Fighter to Pac-Man. He was easily wrapped up in his game until he realized that it was close to closing time. He looked at his cell phone. "Man, that was fun, Willow. You were awesome to play with. A worthy opponent!"

"Thanks, Lincoln. I will show you some ropes on how you can beat me next time."

"Really?"

"Sure, kid. It sucks to win all of the time. Like you said, 'it feels good to lose sometime.'"

Lincoln didn't respond, but he was thankful to meet a new companion. "It is getting late. I don't want my parents to worry. I will get going." He turned and shook Willow's hand. "Thank you for playing with me. It was also nice to make your acquaintance."

"I can't agree more, Lincoln. I look forward to next time."

Lincoln waved goodbye to Willow before walking out of the arcade. Upon exiting, the entire shopping complex went to an entire halt. The area was consumed by darkness, with the exception of streetlights. Even as he turned around at the arcade, the glimmering neon lights were gone. He was all alone. Just a kid surrounded by dark structures.

"Tonight is going to be a cold one. I can feel it in the air," he said to himself.

No longer entertained by this, he ventured for home. As he walked the one-mile trek home, he saw the occasional car pass. The wind chill hit areas that were exposed to Lincoln. He wished he did bring those gloves as he felt a snowflake hit his nose. Snow was in the forecast.

He walked two blocks from the Garden District when he began hearing a noise. It was shaking against the branch of the trees. At first, he thought it was an owl or an insect. He doubted because it was still winter. He continued until he heard hissing. He kept walking with a faster stride. But the hissing noise continued. What captivated Lincoln on how close the sound was getting. Every time he walked, it was getting closer and closer and closer.

Becoming fearful, he ran. The sound of his shoes hitting the sidewalk and the hissing sounds filled the night. He tried to keep calm, but when he heard the sounds of a faint laughter, it made him shiver. The hissing continued, followed by a voice of a woman.

I can find you in the darkness. Can you find me?

I am closer than you think. The night is my strength, can't you see?

I am quite strong, boy. You are what I call weak.

You can try to beat me. That is if you can find me.

Lincoln got out of the main street and went into a gangway. It was familiar territory as he and Clyde walked it as a shortcut to school. He took a greater risk for the gangway doesn't have much light, but the path would cut a quarter of a mile and it would also take him to his backyard. As he continued running, laughter was in the distance.

Where you can not hide, I can seek

I am closer than you think. The night is my strength, don't you see?

You humans are vulnerable when you senses betray you

You can run. Please do. But I am still coming for you.

The latter part of what the person said made him flinch. In fact, it halted him in his tracks.

You can run, but trust me, you won't make it. Just surrender to me and submit to your fate,  Lincoln !

He remain still. Even if he wanted to move, he couldn't. A strong grip had him at his hips, tighten it. He closed his eyes, shutting it tight. He felt the force of the other hand, tilting his neck. He felt the hot breath hitting his neck. The woman chuckled.

It seems like time is up, you have accept your defeat.

You chose your fate and your fate is to submit to me.

"What do you want from me," questioned Lincoln. He felt the sharp fingertip caressing his neck. He felt her lips touching his neck. He can feel her smile.

"So, you can rhyme," she questioned. "Aren't you smart, Lincoln."

'How do you know my name," he asked pleadingly.

She chuckled. She pressed her mouth to his ears. She began whispering.

You must not ask questions. But submitting, you made your deal. Now close your eyes and let me have my  meal.

Lincoln felt the teeth puncturing his neck. It was without warning. He struggled but she had control. He was panting. Tears were escaping his eyes. He felt her hand rubbing his hair. After a few moments, it was over. She finished the job by licking his wounds. She released him, dropping it to the ground.

"Your blood," she paused. "Your blood is...your blood is...I don't know what to call it." She sounded astonished, like she discovered something new.

Lincoln had his hand wrapped around his wound. He was quietly whispering for his mother. Staggering, he tried to escape, but she put her foot to his back.

"Going somewhere, my delicious gourmet meal?"

She landed on top of him, pinning him to the ground. "I am not finished. I must have more." Lincoln put another puncture entering his neck. He screamed into the night until he felt a hand covering him. He continued muffling until the stress of the bite caused him to pass out. As he fading out of consciousness, he tried to picture his capture. The only thing he saw was her eyes. After that, he went into darkness.

That was delicious, Lincoln. Thanks for the meal. I haven't tasted blood this good in ages. See you around. Oh yeah, thanks for hanging out with me earlier. I must say, you know how to keep a girl entertained.

Chapter Text

Tension was in the air at the kitchen table. The sounds of forks and spoons scraping the plates compensating the usual morning family antics and conundrums. The latter of which was very important to Luna. It was around the time where she and Lincoln would play 21 Questions on what meal their mother would prepare for the day. They divided it into three meals with seven questions each. They would sit beside each other, snickering with each other and if they were right or wrong. The results were mostly in her favor, the latter of which give pocket money for concessions after school. Most days, she waited for Lincoln by the school and share concessions with each other. As they walked side by side, they used their remaining seven questions on tonight's dinner.

She played with her food. She wasn't hungry. She poked at her now lukewarm grits. The color matched her feelings as it wasn't the same when Lincoln was sitting beside her. There was no guessing. There was no hints. Just an empty space at the dinner where Lucy was using to prop her legs. She slid the plate to the side. She wasn't hungry.

"Not hungry," questioned her mother as she stared at her daughter's plate.

"Not really," she said faintly. She did not want to look at them in the eye. At moments when she glanced at the missing seat, she felt a lump in her throat.

I am tired of the sorries. I am tired of the excuses. I am tired of you. If you don't want to spend time with me, then just say it.

Was I a filler until she came into your life?

Say it Luna. Say that, "you don't want to spend time with me because my girlfriend is more important than you."

I hate you.

Fuck you, too.

I hate you.

Fuck you, too.

She never meant to say those harsh words. She was consumed with grief, frustration. She didn't have time to register in her head of the situation. She wanted everything to slow down. She wanted time to process the words. Earlier that day in the kitchen, she told Lincoln about cancelling the affair at the concert. Her intent was to surprise him with a better concert. But before she had a chance to explain, he lost it.

Even if Lincoln was in the wrong on how he responded, she was still consumed with guilt. While the entire family made their pact of the silent treatment, she was lost in confusion. She thought of this punishment was too harsh for Lincoln. However, she wasn't doing anything in aiding in his defense. Was she upset with him on his harsh words? Was she upset on his attacking her girlfriend?

Was she upset on his telling the truth?

Be as it may, she didn't tell her parents. In her mind, Lincoln was tough. He can handle it. He has been through tougher roads and he can survive this one. That was the excuse she gave herself. That was the excuse she accepted. She just hope it was a valid one.

For compensation of her route, she made Lincoln his favorite soup.

That evening, Luna went to a show with Sam. Sam got tickets from an ex-boyfriend and wanted to take Luna on a date. Plus, she thought it would relieve some tension away from her. The venue was at a college in Detroit. It was a private affair. She didn't have a clue that SMOOCH was performing. Despite the excitement, she still couldn't get her brother out of her mind. She couldn't tell Sam. She went out of her way to cheer her girlfriend up, she thought. She put on a plastic smile to enjoy the concert. It wasn't bad. She enjoyed it. However, it would have been better if she didn't have to go home to Lincoln. When she got into the Porsche, she saw Lincoln staring at them. She tucked her lip, masking the pain.

I wish you were never my sister, you fucking cunt.

She covered her mouth. A vile taste entered her throat. She wanted to vomit. She wanted to cry. The entire time her thoughts remained on Lincoln. Seeing Lincoln leaving earlier was the straw that broke the camel's back. He looked like a sick puppy. No one welcomed him. He was alone.

I wish you were never my sister, you fucking cunt.

It was noticed from the family as they stared at her. She peered at them before looking back at the missing chair. Her father put down his newspaper. His face displayed sternness. The atmosphere was already tense and he already knew the reason. Now it was time to vocalize it.

"Look, I get the hint." He spoke in either direction. It was not directed at Luna. She knew that even he can't look at anybody in the eye. It was safe to say that it was very harsh of what they did. "Do you think I enjoy sending Lincoln like this? Do you think I enjoy seeing my son think he has no allies in the world? Of course, I don't. He needs to learn when you make discouraging remarks, it is going to have consequences."

Her mother looked, but put her head down. She tried to eat her food, but her hands were too shaky to consume. She put it down in defeat.

"Lincoln needs to learn his lesson. In the long run, he is going to come back to his senses. He is going to apologize on what he has done. The sooner he does this, we will take him in open arms." He hit his head on the table. His voice alerted the girls that he was absolute with his decision. "Until then, we have to remain harsh. Even if it hurts us. I will not raise my family in an intolerant household."

Weakly, Luna spoke. "Aren't we too harsh? Lincoln hasn't done any of this before. Can we go easy on him."

"No," said her mother. She didn't look up. It looked she spoke more to the grits and eggs than to them. "Listen to what your father says. I don't like it, but Lincoln needs to be taught a lesson. A message for the rest of you guys on what happens when you disrespect somebody."

"Mom, Dad," said Luna, her voice crackled. "He is eleven. Don't you think he is at that stage he needs to understand these kinds of things?"

"Luna, what I said is final," said his father. He returned to his newspaper. "And I don't want to hear another word of it. He must learn a lesson. He must learn a lesson." He took a breath. "Now finish up and get ready for school."

Luna wanted to scream from the top of her lungs. She wanted to explain the truth. Mom! Dad! Lincoln yelled those words at me because he was upset of not spending time with me! He is tolerant! He is aware of my lifestyle. He supports it. He was upset that I have not done my job of being a big sister. It is not his fault. It is not his fault. I am sorry that I caused this. Please Mom! Please Dad! Cut him a break.

Those words would never reach to them. When she finished her thought process, her parents left the kitchen table. She watched her mother cleaning the dishes and her father going to work. The siblings headed to the living room where they retrieved their backpacks. Leni urged Luna to get going on. She sighed as she prepared to head to school.

Luna walked with her sisters as they made their usual route to school. She kept her pace, but she thought of Lincoln the entire time. I tried to speak for you, bro. I tried, but nothing came out. I don't blame you at all for it. You wanted my precious time. If you could have waited a few more seconds, then maybe…

"Luna, snapped out of it," said Lori. "We are at our sister's school. Now say goodbye to them." She waved goodbye to Lisa, Lola, Lana, and Lucy before going with the others to school. It was convenient that the junior high and the high school was close by the corner store. She wanted to get a piece of candy to give to Lincoln during lunch. She knew she wasn't supposed to skip school. But, she needed solace of making peace with her brother.

He may have been in the wrong of those harsh words, but my brother is my everything. I love him and I am going to make sure that I will show him my love.

She told the girls to keep going as she went to the corner store. She pushed the door and nodded at the clerk. She left her backpack by the door to not let the clerk think she was stealing. She scanned the candy aisle to find a treat to give to him during lunch. She found his favorite candy and took it to the register. She paid in cash and thanked the clerk. She put it in her backpack and left the store. She was a few steps from the store when she got a phone call from Sam.

"Hey, babe," said Luna. "I was wondering when you might…"

"The call has been stolen."

Luna paused. "Your car was stolen?"

"Yes! I came outside and saw all of my stuff out of the car."

"Oh, shit! That is terrible! You called the police?"

"I did. They are on the scene. I am not coming to school today. Can you do me favor and cover for me?"

"You know I will, sweetheart. Is there anything I need to do?"

"Nah, it's cool. Just stay beautiful."

"Okay. I love you."

"I love you."

"Oh, one more thing, Luna."

"What is it?"

"Tell Lincoln that I really want some one-on-one time with him. I really think we should talk, between us."

"I agree."

Luna hung up and walked to school. The thought of her girlfriend's car stolen was strange. Then yet, her neighborhood was not the safest. Also, it was a rarity of a sixteen year old girl driving a Porsche. She kept her calm as she hurried to get to class.

Later on that afternoon, she was getting ready to ditch class to go to Lincoln's school to give him his candy. She didn't mind for it was gym class. It was acceptable at the school for the girls to go to the bleachers and smoke cigarettes while the coach was looking on her cell phone. So, ditching school for twenty minutes wasn't going to hurt. She used the excuse of going to the restroom to her gym teacher. She wrote her a pass and she made her way to the restroom. She passed the restroom and made her way to the hallways which led her to the back. She only had a few minutes, so running to the school required much haste.

About five minutes into the run, she got a notification app from a news channel. She wasn't a big fan of the media, but she kept with the latest so she wouldn't get left behind. The notification app displayed breaking news. She stopped and opened the app.

There is a serious accident involving several vehicles on the M-80 expressway near the Royal Woods exit. Witnesses say a Silver Porsche failed to yield to oncoming traffic as the vehicle entered the freeway. The vehicle was struck by another vehicle driving a Ford F-150 in the opposite direction. The impact of the crash caused the Porsche to flipped over a couple of times before hitting a tree. The Ford F-150 rolled over before hitting another unknown vehicle.

The police are on the scene and they are telling us that this is a deadly scene. So far, we do have one causality. We are unsure from which vehicle. Channel 4 News will keep you updated.

Luna put her cell phone back into her pocket. She looked to it as coincidence because her girlfriend's car had the same color. She hoped that it wasn't the vehicle. She may not have thieves, but even they are valuable of life as well. She hoped that the victims were okay.

She was at the entrance of Lincoln's school. She knew that Lincoln wouldn't have easy access like a high schooler, so she had to check in at the front office. She went to the receptionist.

"Good morning, Ms. Houston," said Luna in a sing-song.

"Luna Loud," she answered in a plain voice tone. "I thought we couldn't get rid of you all. Here to bring back some hell."

She was tickled. "C'mon, Ms. H., I wasn't that bad."

"Very funny," answered Ms. H. "Here to check out some Loud's?"

"Actually, I was trying to see if I give this candy bar to Lincoln."

Ms. Houston left the desk and walked to the computer. She was typing some info before going back to Luna. "Weird. Everyone is here except Lincoln."

Luna was taken aback. "Can you see if he is in class. Just to be safe?"

"No problem," she said as she went to the intercom.

Luna received a phone call. It was from Sam. Luna walked away and answered the phone.

"Hello," she said in a whisper. "Right now is not a good time…"

"Luna," she screamed to Luna. Her voice was shaky. She was frantic. "Something bad happened."

Her first thought was the car crash. "Is it about your car."

"I am not worried about that, Luna, but yeah it is the car," she said. "It is not the car, but the person inside."

"Ms. Luna," said Ms. Houston. "Your brother didn't show up today."

Luna's breath became labored. She was panting loudly. She still had Sam on the phone. She can hear Sam calling for her name.

"Sam, don't tell me who you think it is. Please Sam, don't tell me who you think it is!"

"I am sorry, baby. I am really sorry."

"Please, no," she screamed. "Please no, no, no!"

Their call got interrupted when she saw it was her mother calling. "Sam, I got to call you back." She hung up on Sam and answered her mother's phone.

"Hello," she said with a shaky voice.

She heard the sobbing noises in her mother's voice. Luna crouched on the ground when knowing that the accident and the Porsche are relating to Lincoln.

"Your brother, Luna," she said. "Your brother, Luna. There has been an accident."

Ms. Houston saw Luna and came around to see the commotion. She saw Luna crouched. She saw tears flowing down her cheeks. "What's the matter, Luna?"

"My brother. My brother. He was...he...he was in a car crash!" She wailed loudly as she came to console Luna. She told one of the secretaries to contact Luna's parents.

"I am sorry, Lincoln! I am sorry!"

I am tired of the sorries. I am tired of the excuses. I am tired of you. If you don't want to spend time with me, then just say it.

Was I a filler until she came into your life?

Say it Luna. Say that, "you don't want to spend time with me because my girlfriend is more important than you."

"Lincoln!"

"Lincoln!"

"Lincoln!"

Chapter Text

Lincoln's invitation to the masquerade ball arrived this morning by courier. The shiny, glossed metallic envelope stood out with the normalcy of bills and grocery store coupons. Lincoln was usually the one to check the mail. He was highly fortunate. The thought of his sisters and his mother knowing of his destination would infuriate them. Especially if was from Chloe Molyneaux of all people. It didn't surprise Lincoln when Lucy rudely entered his bedroom the night before when knowing his interactions with the Queen Trap. She got wind of it from her friend, Haiku. Defensively, he told his gothic sister that his reasons of his friendship with Chloe was his own. Surprisingly, she didn't go any further. Her final words were to be careful because dark forces were in the works, whatever that meant.

His father was the only one he had told. He had told him after they left the doctor's office. They were sitting at the park feeding the ducks and eating ice cream. His father was excited of being asked to go to a soiree; his nickname of discussing fancy, exclusive balls. To Lincoln, it wasn't a big deal, but he wanted to make Chloe happy. His father's response was that he was proud of his son's humility and sincerity of a person. It was a trait that was treading away from the Loud household. Lincoln frowned of that response, especially when he was the source of the troubles. Someday, he would have to talk to his father about it.

He questioned himself and created panels with his stuffed toys on talking with his father. It resulted in his worst fear, separation. Adultery, incest, and betrayal was the root. He didn't want to break it up. He contemplated for many days on finding solutions.

Should I be more discreet with my siblings? Create a schedule to have their fill of me.

Ask my mother to take a break from me. Rekindle the romance of my father.

Break it off with all of them? (Scratch that). County coroner will be arriving in multiple vans.

Make a consensus with them. Have a meeting of this harem.

Lincoln was feeling stupid. The fact that these options were on the table was crazy. After two hours of drinking eight cups of coffee, a can of an energy drink, and a box of donuts, he came up with a solution. He called his best friend for advice.

Clyde McBride was the wingman who had connections with people in the expertise of a harem. Clyde, himself, was not apart of a harem nor have the experience of girls in his life. However, he knew a guy from the group sessions with a therapist. Lincoln went outside to the garage and dialed the number to his best friend/wingman. It wasn't long until the voice was received.

"Clyde McBride here, bro," said the curly haired best friend. "I was in the middle of washing the cats. What's up. Didn't use the walkie this time?"

"No can do, Clyde. The Feds are watching." The phrase, the Feds are watching, meant that his sisters were listening to his messages. Lori convinced Lisa of getting the walkie talkie tapped. They wanted to know Lincoln's whereabouts when the girls didn't have him. Talking on the phone wasn't safe either, but the girls weren't home fortunately. Just for assurance, he turned on some rock music and turned on the lawn mower to pollute the noise. "I am safe for now, but I have to be quick. I want to know if you still have the number to your friend from the sessions."

"Which sessions, bro?" Clyde gave him that expression because he was no stranger to group therapy. "From my anxiety group. The single awareness group. The group that…."

"You know who I am talking about," said Lincoln with absoluteness in his voice. "I am talking about the friend who was a random hero."

Clyde snapped. "Oh, that friend." He laughed. "I haven't thought of him since our last group session together. It has been a few months. Yeah, I got his info." Lincoln knew he was shuffling through papers to find the contact. Lincoln looked around to see if there wasn't any change in the garage. He knew his time was running short. Girls don't get manicures and pedicures forever. "Here it is. You have a pen?"

Lincoln got a pen and a piece of paper he tore from his father's notepad. "I got it. Tell me his name."

"He goes by the name of Luka. I don't know his last name. He was very discreet with his personal life. He has a setup here, but it is not in Royal Woods. It is located in the sticks."

"The sticks? That is a four hour trip."

"Like I said. He is a very private man. What reason you have for him."

"Look at it as consultation for my sanity of this harem."

"Surprised you didn't seek any advice sooner."

"Didn't know I was gaining a following, Clyde."

Clyde was laughing under his breath, but Lincoln didn't find it humorous. Then yet again, Clyde wasn't in the position of where he was standing. He calmed his nerves before continuing the conversation. "From his sessions with him, can you describe him to me."

"Like I explained earlier, he is a very private man. He is just very friendly. He was there with us to overcome his anxiety with people. He mentioned to us that he was engaged in an affair of women. However." Clyde paused for a moment. "He does have a wife and is a father of two. He also gave us his info if we ever wanted to talk about his experience. Kind of contradictory, but I think it was because of his shyness. Anyway, here is the number and let me know how it works out."

"Thanks bro, I really appreciate this. One in a million, friend."

"Anytime. Do you plan to see him today?"

"I can't. I have to go to a ball tonight."

"Oh," replied Clyde with a sly expression. "Going to the fancy soiree with Chloe Molyneaux. Good luck!"

"Thanks," answered Lincoln with a sarcastic tone. "It means a lot hearing it from you."

"Sorry, bro," said Clyde. "Tell me the game plan for tonight."

"She is talking me to a country club and going dancing. She is introducing me to her parents. I just hope to eat some cocktail shrimp and sit and crowd watching," said Lincoln. "Oh yeah, I got to wear a mask."

"At least you are hiding your face if you know anyone," replied Clyde.

"Dude, who else is rich in Royal Woods," he questioned. "We, ourselves, are barely at the poverty line. I get this dance over with and that should calm her down a touch."

"You amaze me, Lincoln," said Clyde. "You really do."

Lincoln raised his eyebrow. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Take it easy, bro. I didn't mean anything by it. It just. You know what never mind."

"No, bro. I won't be offended. Say what is on your mind."

Clyde sighed. Lincoln knew where Lincoln was going. He hoped it wasn't what he thought was going to come from Clyde's lips. "You have always been resourceful. A jack of all trades kind of guy. You are dependent and you are a good guy. Guys and girls alike are privilege to be around a kid like you." He paused for a bit. "But I think you are taking too much on yourself with these girls and their demands. Do you ever have time to think for yourself? Do you ever have time just to say no?"

Clyde hit a sore spot that was worse than the feeling on his hips. "If it was so easy to say no, then I wouldn't be calling you for advice, would I?"

"Don't get defensive, Lincoln. I am on your side. Have you ever told the girls no?"

There was an awkward pause between the duo for a few moments. Lincoln knew Clyde was telling the truth. It was discerning Clyde and Lincoln didn't want to be in the wrong. No, he hasn't told the girls. Even if he did, it would result in forced sex or rape. Granted, he enjoyed pleasing the girls. However, he didn't mind if sex wasn't always involved. He wished he had the backbone to tell the girls his feelings, but he was fearful.

"Yeah, I have." Lincoln lied. He lied because he wasn't forward with his feelings. He didn't want to sound like he was on the losing end. In the end, his pride defeated him. He no longer wanted to talk with the conversation. "Listen, Clyde, I hear them coming. I gotta go."

Lincoln hung up the phone and put it on the workstation. He went to the lawn mower and turned it off. He went to the radio and turned it off. He sat on the floor and touch the cement floor.

Chapter Text

Working at her grandmother's candy shop was not the ideal job she had envisioned for her summer. Two reasons why her planned vacations to Cancun and Cozumel came to a screeching halt. One, she received a call from her parents that her grandmother became terminally ill and was unable to run the shop. It was because of her expertise in business since she is a sophomore majoring in finance, they need her to run the shop. Two, following her grandmother's illness, she alerted her girlfriend of her not attending Cancun and Cozumel with her family. The response wasn't well-received. In result, her girlfriend ended it with her and invited another boy to attend instead. What made a final insult to her injury was through the boy, he and her now ex-girlfriend have been dating for a few weeks prior to the end of the school year.

With her vacation a bust and her break-up made her feel plenty of emotions for the young girl. At nineteen years old, the petite brunette didn't expect it to come like that. She concluded and wrote it off as a part of life, things go wrong. It can't be explained nor predicted.

She knew that business was going to be slow at the beginning of the summer. It was June and the children have yet to end their school year. She was still learning to transition from being out at university in the South and then returning to the midwest. She loved the university she attended. It gave her an opportunity to branch out and explore herself, in many ways than one. The school gave her liberation, libation, exploration, and identity. She wasn't the prettiest horse in the stable, but her personality compensated it. Her highlights were her bust. She wasn't ashamed of her blessing and tried her hardest to keep modesty around the boys and girls who took glances from time to time. She was tanned skin. Although natural, she enjoyed tanning with the friends she was able to have back there. She couldn't speak about it when returning back to Royal Woods. It was a wasteland of regrets, a place where she rather it seen burn to the ground. She often prayed for some arson to occur in her town instead of the city like Warren or within the 8 Mile.

She looked at her rainbow dyed streaks. She blew her bangs as she was clicking on her gallery to delete any photo that displayed her former girlfriend. A girlfriend that she had gone steady since the beginning of her sophomore year of college. Prior to then, her relationship with girls was based on experimentation. Still interested in dating boys, she began fancying women after meeting the girl at a frat party. So, seeing her first girl crush to become diminishing from memory was unbearable. She fought the tears as she promptly deleted them.

After deleting over fifty photos, she decided to take a break. She saw the clock on the wall and was approaching three in the afternoon, she knew that students were steadily coming out of school and since the candy shop was walking distance, she knew a customer would come at some point.

She had only been at the shop for a couple of days. Despite her grandmother's illness, she constantly called around-the-clock to ensure that her business was going well. The girl always got the same monotonous tone from her grandmother.

Ally, make sure that when you have a customer, approach them with a smile and greet them warmly. Always make sure that the customer feels welcomed and satisfied.

Ally sighed through her nose with the confirmation of her grandmother's request. She crackled her knuckles after closing her steampunk magazine.

God, if she is so damned concern about running this shop, then she needs to take her ass off from the hospital and run this damn place.

She scoffed at the thought, knowing she was having ill thoughts. She wasn't an arrogant person. Admittedly, she was a bit selfish and in a way, a bitch. But, she knew it was an insecurity she covered to protect herself. Within, she could be quite vulnerable. And the two occasions she had felt such vulnerability, the breakup of her boyfriend, which was a high school sweetheart, and her girlfriend from college. Sometimes, she often realized why her family and acquaintances called her an onion.

Ally thought she would have time for a smoke break before she heard the bell rang from the door. A customer was in the building. She took sharp breaths. She displayed her infamous fake smile, displaying her shining porcelain teeth and made her way to the counter.

"Hi, welcome to our store. I hope you find this place sweet," she said to the customer.

"Thanks," responded the customer who happened to be a boy. The white-haired boy displayed a handsome smile, a smile that was welcoming and didn't display any fear. Ally blushed and envied about his demeanor. He glanced over her nametag. "Ally? I like that name."

"Thanks," answered Ally. She wasn't quite fond of the name. But, it beat being called Allison anyday.

"You are new, aren't you," asked the white-haired child as he scanned the counter. "Normally, auntie is in here, but I don't see her. Is everything alright with her?"

Ally shrugged her shoulders. She decided to get a little macabre with the boy. "Yeah, she died." She strained her voice to become dry. "Too bad. Got tired of serving children and decided to end it all in a sweet, sweet glory. The coroner said she died a sickly sweet death."

The white-haired boy appeared grimaced, in fact shocked. That was what Ally expected. Going back to her personality, she wasn't arrogant, but she could be quite a bitch and selfish and also dark. She covered her lips with her hands, which displayed her Panty and Stocking themed fingernails. She gave a slight chuckle before giving her usual demeanor. "I am joking, kid. Grandma is sick and I am running the shop until she feels better." She extends her hands. "I am sorry for earlier. I am Ally. But you are saw that from my nametag. What is your name?"

The white-haired boy was a bit hesitant. He had his hand in his orange shirt before making the decision to return her handshake. "Lincoln, Lincoln Loud." He gave it a firm grip and made eye contact before returning his hand into his pocket.

"Lincoln Loud," she retorted. "So are such a honest kid?"

"I try to."

She chuckled again before making her way to the register. "It is a little humor. I was thinking about Abe Lincoln and honest...you know, never mind." She cracked her knuckles. "What brings you here today?"

"I was trying to buy something, but you know never mind," answered Lincoln calmly and faintly.

Ally saw him looking away from her. His face was looking at the exit. Normally, she wouldn't mind, but something about the boy aroused her curiosity. She had no better plans, so she decided to pique with his brain.

"What is it? You can tell me. I won't bite." She raised her eyebrows. Oh my God, where is this coming from? Why in the hell am I trying to be motherly. If the kid wants to fuck off, then fuck off.

"The thing is is that I don't have much spending money," replied Lincoln with a sigh.

Then, why come to a store knowing you don't have much cash. But, I can't say that to him.

"Really," asked Ally while putting her finger to her lip. "How much do you have on you?"

Lincoln turned and faced Ally. Ally blushed as she saw how beet red was Lincoln. She watched him rummaged through his pocket before retrieving whatever money he had. With his hand, he scanned over the change after removing the dust bunnies. "I have close to 87 cents."

87 cents? Why in the hell do you want me to do with that? Damn, children these days. Did his parents teach about the cost of the economy in our times? Did he come in here with the premise of my feeling sorry for him? Is this what my grandmother does to poor kids who are strapped for cash? Once again, I can't say all of that to him. He is young and I am sure as hell not want to hear a response from his parents.

Ally swallowed the emotions she wanted to display but concluded that her girlfriend's breakup and cheating and the illness of her grandmother contributed to her stress. She sighed and scratched the back of her head before returning her sights on Lincoln.

"If you want, I have no problem if you want to get an item." She reached out her hand and notion to LIncoln to get what he had to her.

"Really," exclaimed Lincoln as his eyes were widened by the acceptance of Ally's request. He gave her the funds and turned to the aisle where they had his Jolly Ranchers. Before he could grab a handful, he stopped and returned to the counter.

"What's the matter? Changed your mind," questioned Ally with genuine curiosity.

"I shouldn't do this," answered Lincoln. "This isn't right. I should have known better to come here knowing I was broke. Plus, I shouldn't take anything from a stranger in the first place. A creed from my parents." He gave her smile. "Listen, keep the money. Let it be a tip for the store and for Auntie. Thank you anyway. I think I should go."

At this point, Ally couldn't help but feel sorry for Lincoln. Should I really give a damn? Why is he giving me the feels? Is this a ploy, boy? Do you do this to all of the girls you come across? That smile! That damn, lovely smile. Damn you! Damn you!

Ally extended her hands the moment Lincoln had his hand on the door. "Wait!"

Lincoln turned to her direction.

What am I doing? What am I hoping for? What do I want of him?

"Listen, I can tell you are a sweet child. No pun intended," said Ally. She waved her finger to him to return to the counter. "How about we make an arrangement of some sort."

"An arrangement?"

Ally shook her head. "Yes, sir! You seem like a kid who is an honest lad. I think we can make it work. Look, I want you to have this candy. And I am no stranger. We have shaken hands. That should be some form of affirming a relationship."

Lincoln put his finger to his lip. "In some way, that can be true."

Ally smiled. "Good." She pointed to the Jolly Ranchers. "We will trade for the candy. In exchange, let's keep this to ourselves." She gave an awkward smile. "I don't need any other neighborhood hoodlums to think I am this generous. I am not my grandmother. Capiche?"

Lincoln shook his head in agreement with Ally's orders.

"Alright then, a pound of Jolly Ranchers are going to cost you $3.00. You are going to need $2.13," she said to him. "Let me think on what you could trade for me."

Okay, this shouldn't be difficult. You are in Finance, damn it. What can Lincoln give me in exchange? She was scanning through her thoughts until she felt a notification from Facebook. She reached for her phone and saw her ex-girlfriend having fun with her new flame on the beach. Seeing her with somebody else made her fist clenched. She tucked in her lips and wanted to hit something, but she saw Lincoln. Ok, I need something to relieve myself. That fucking bitch and her faggot of a boyfriend want to ruin me and my summer. Now, I need something to relieve this stress. Even if it means something drastic. She looked at Lincoln and observed him for a few moments. She withdrew a slight smile. She had made her decision.

"For the remaining money for the pound of Jolly Ranchers, can you show me your stomach," she said.

"My stomach," retorted Lincoln with a surprised tone.

Ally shook her head in confirmation. "Yes, Lincoln, your stomach. Look, don't think anything harsh. I am just seeing if you really want the candy. If not, I can completely understand." She took enough psychology classes to know this. Make him think that he is responsible for the decision. That way, if he does it, it is based on his own volition. I am at the booth, he is just paying a toll.

Lincoln was hesitant, but without a second thought, he pulled up his shirt, exposing his stomach. Ally smiled but didn't display it in front of Lincoln. I want to see more.

"You actually have done it. Can you raise it a bit more, like you were seeing a doctor," she asked calmly. "If not, I understand."

He shook his head in disagreement. "I don't mind." He sighed quietly as he exposed his chest in front of Ally. Ally's stomach churned at the sight of his body. He takes care of himself. Not bad for a lad of his caliber.

"Not going to lie, kid. I am amazed," replied Ally. "I didn't think you had the guts to do it."

"It is just I wanted that special kind of Jolly Ranchers."

"What about them that makes them special?"

Lincoln blushed. He returned to be quiet while he kept his shirt in the position.

"You can put it down," said Ally. Ally walked from around the counter and helped Lincoln poured the candy into the bag. She put the money in the register and gave him the bag of candy along with the receipt.

"So, for showing your stomach and 87 cents, here is your candy," she said.

"Thanks," answered Lincoln shyly. He bowed and made his way toward the exit. Before he left, Ally stopped him.

"Feel free to come back and see me."

He didn't say a word. He gave her a final stare before walking out of the store. Ally dropped to the floor the moment he left.

Oh, my God. Oh, my God. What in the hell did I just do? I just told a teenager to show his chest to me. What the fuck, Ally? What made you think like that? Why did you do that?

Before she collected her thoughts, she heard the door opened. She got up and saw that it was Lincoln.

"Hey, did you forget something?"

"I was wondering what I can trade for another pound of Jolly Ranchers?"

Chapter Text

Ally put herself in the position of being awestruck from the moment she saw the expression of Lincoln's continuity with the trade. Honestly, she did it out of pure frustration of her cheating girlfriend. She wanted something of control; something to give her a sense of feeling. Breaking up from her girlfriend left her heartbroken and stricken with grief. The petite brunette spent many nights under her blanket in her bedroom. She cried to the point where her pillow was like a sponge. If crying didn't suffice, she took it out on any item at arm's reach. A lot of things were in need in repair for the troubled teen.

According to her mother, after giving her a talk, was that she need to understand that love and life aren't always going to play by the rules. Ally thought that ploy was fortunate because her parents didn't care for their daughter dating someone of the same sex. Deeply rooted in religion, they found the act as forbidden, but concluded that she was exploring herself. She was feeling "funny," a more suitable word her parents made. Regardless of the matter, Ally returned to her room and take it out on items from breaking trophies to punching holes in the walls. Her parents hoped that Ally's working in her grandmother's candy shop could numb the pain or distract her from it.

Ally returned to reality as she saw Lincoln staring into her emerald eyes for the request of making another trade. She gripped her t-shirt before walking to the shop door. On a piece of paper, she wrote that the store was closed for a few hours and would return open later. She pulled down the blinds and locked the door. She took a couple of deep breaths before making herself the decision to follow what Lincoln wanted.

Why am I doing this? What am I planning to accomplish out of this? Is this pay back? Taking it out on a kid?

Against the advice of her thoughts, she let out a smile and took Lincoln by the hand. She rubbed it affectionately, touching every digit of his hands. She felt him shiver, which she didn't mind. In her mind, this was the distraction to take her mind away from her ex-girlfriend.

In the back of the candy store was an office. It was simple run-of-the-mill office that was located off the grid. Anybody who didn't pay attention would have easily passed it. Inside was a small desk and retro laptop circa early 2000s. The bulletin board displayed the sales of the month. It had a list of contacts for other companies. It had a wooden chair at the front and had the cushioned seat from behind the desk. Ally hardly used the office until it was closing time to collect the money and write receipts before taking it to the bank. She now was going to use the office to have a brief transaction of her own with Lincoln. She closed the door and instruct him to have a seat.

She went from around the desk and took a seat herself. She put her feet on the desk and crossed it. From Lincoln's angle, he could see her black-and-white striped stockings that remind him of a popular cartoon of the early '90s. The smell of butterscotch pudding emitted into the air. He saw that Ally sprayed the air freshener as she put it down. She looked to air before returning her eyes on Lincoln.

"The first thing I want you to do is take off your clothes." She was very firm in her voice. It was sharp, like a hot knife on butter. It was absolute and didn't go any further. After a few moments of awkwardness, she responded. "Well, do you want the candy or not?"

He shook his head. "I do. It is just. I have never. I have never."

"Never what, kid," she questioned while raising her eyebrows.

"I have never disrobed in front of a girl before," he said without looking at her in the eye.

"Is that all, kid," she replied. "It is like being in gym class. And I like your teacher." She pressed her nails on the desk. "And this teacher wants you to disrobe. So, off with your clothes."

Lincoln was hesitant, but obeyed her orders. He first took off his shirt, followed by his pants. He was blushing red like a tomato when he was just in his briefs. She observed and gave the hand motion that he wasn't finished. "When I mean your clothes, I mean all of it."

He was deeply flushed. He closed his eyes as he slowly took off his brief. The cool air of the office didn't help his embarrassment. He felt exposed as he covered his penis, shielding it from the cold and shielding from Ally.

She crackled. "C'mon, kid. A trade means to display all transaction before giving your dues. It means showing all. Understand?" She leaned forward. "Unless you want some help?"

Not that I don't mind, she thought to herself. Seeing Lincoln in his glory made her blush herself, but she grateful of having a poker face. Detailing his body was causing her to get a little arouse herself. She felt the moistness coming from her groin along with the tightness. In a way, she was gaining interest.

"Ok, Ally," replied Lincoln as he was shaking and trembling as he exposed himself to Ally. Ally admitted that Lincoln wasn't the biggest she had seen, but his girth wasn't bad. She knew with the right girl, he could make girl want more. However, she wasn't going to admit that or encourage him. She wanted control.

"Not bad, seen better," she said nonchalantly. "You are a thousand miles if you can any girl want that. I couldn't imagine the girls who have gone off with that."

"I haven't," he said quietly.

"What did you say," she questioned.

Lincoln looked away, but Ally walked to him and put her hand on his chin. She had direct eye contact with him. "Repeat what you had said."

"I have never been with a girl before."

She burst out laughing. "Are you serious? You are such a child. You are telling me at your age, no girl has shag you with that. The next thing you are going to tell me you haven't masturbated."

Lincoln shied away like a turtle hiding in its shell. Ally once more forced his chin into her direction. "Really? Rubbing it out? Choking the chicken? Going number three?" She released his chin from her grip and turned around.

I am going to be his first. In a way, this kind of exciting. I am going to responsible for popping his top?

She maintained her composure, not exposing her excitement on the matter. She coughed before turning back to Lincoln. "Ok, kid. This is what we are going to do." She sat on the foot of the desk. "I can't make a trade if you haven't used the product." She sighed. "So, I guess it is up to me to test the product to see how it works."

"It isn't going to cost me?"

"You are still going to pay for it, kid. Look at it as equity or some sort."

Ally moved Lincoln's hand to see his penis. Ally looked closer as she was familiar of being around the area. This wasn't a first rodeo. Many boys she had dated or had relations in high school credited her for being good at oral sex. She practiced with tools such as fruits, vegetables, and toys to get a good performance. She often practiced it with her younger brother as a teaser. Of course, she kept it a secret and bribed him with video games and pocket money. She pressed over it, recognizing the sweat. She could tell from its scent that Lincoln was nervous.

Meanwhile, Lincoln hasn't never had a girl this close to his penis before. Once, he let Ronnie Anne look at his penis. She stared before blushing away from it; especially when he became aroused of seeing her. He watched Ally breathe over it before making a touch on the tip, which automatically aroused him.

"It doesn't take much for you to get hard, kid," she said before putting her hands on the shaft. She felt his trembling, but it didn't deter her to continue. "Stand still, kid. I am going to show you how it feels to get your dick wet." She looked at him. "Right now, I think you can't handle getting your dick sucked by me, but a handjob would suffice. Once we have that, the trade is complete. Sound good?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Easy kid, I am still a teen like you. Call me Ally."

"Yes, ma-, I mean Ally."

Ally placed her hand around the shaft and began rubbing it. She was rough, wanting to ensure that he was good affection from the region. She watched as he continued shaking, looking away from the scene. She pressed her other hand on his stomach, rubbing it with soft force.

"Relax, I want to make you feel good," she told Lincoln. "This is no way of wanting to hurt you."

"I know, but this feels funny."

"It is your first. But trust me, it feels good. You will enjoy it. Promise."

Lincoln trusted her advice and closed his eyes. Ally took advantage and put her tongue around his stomach. He let out a moan instantly, enticing her to continue. She caressed her tongue around his bellybutton before kissing it. She thrusted her tongue there while gripping his dick. She kissed his stomach a few times with light pecks. She dwindled her hand to his nipple where she rubbed and pinched it. He covered his mouth to stop himself from moaning.

"It's okay to moan," cried Ally. "That is sure sign that you are feeling good. No one should have to hold back."

"Ally, I feel like I am drifting."

"Drift away, kid. I am here to guide you. The good waves are coming soon."

Ally was feeling aroused. Her nipples protruded from her shirt. Her labia was exposed and fluids were seeping, but she ignored her own feelings. A flaw she admit. She never cared about the quality of herself when seeking pleasure. It was her partners where she cared the most. Also, it was very hard for her to achieve an orgasm. She has yet to meet a person who could live by her standards. She continued kissing his stomach before returning back to his dick.

Precum was leaking from his dick, which helped Ally with lubrication. She was gaining strength, knowing he was closing to coming.

"Does it feel good, kid," she asked while smiling. "Does big sister making you feel good?"

"Yes, sis."

"I think I like that better. For now on, call me your big sister. Okay?"

He shook his head while moaning. She continued getting faster as she knew he was closing.

"I am feeling strange. I feel like peeing."

"There you go, kid. You are getting there. Come for me. Come for me. Let it out. Let it out for your big sis."

Lincoln gripped his teeth. He let out a loud cry before releasing his fluids to Ally. She was welcomed with semen in front of her. It landed on her nose and her mouth. Some of it landed on her shirt. He strained before dropping it to the ground.

Ally stood in shock, but shouldn't have been surprised of the result. She watched Lincoln pant and blushed at the sight he gave Ally.

"I am sorry," he cried. "I did that?" He scanned around the room. "Let me get a tissue."

Ally waved her hand. She pulled the semen from her nose and her mouth. She rubbed the texture on her fingers before placing them in her mouth. Lincoln watched as she cleaned her fingers of his milk. She wiped her hands on her shirt and stood up.

"Transaction completed."

A few minutes later, Ally and Lincoln returned to the front of the store. She went to the Jolly Ranchers and poured a pound into a bag. She gave it to Lincoln and he bowed to her in thanks. She returned to opening the blinds and unlocking the door. She looked at her watch and saw that it was close to six in the evening, closing time.

"Thank you for the candy, Ally," said Lincoln while putting the candy into his backpack.

"Don't mention it, kid," answered Ally while returning to the register.

"Ally?"

"Yeah?"

"When you made me put stuff out, did it suppose to feel good?"

"I don't know. I am not a boy."

"Did it taste good? My stuff?"

God, you are young. Asking me too many questions. "It isn't bad. Just very salty."

He blushed. "Okay. Well, thanks a lot. I promised this time to have money to pay for next time."

"Sure, sure. Now go home, kid. I don't want to get you into any trouble."

Lincoln waved bye to Ally before departing for home. She locked the door behind him and closed the blinds. She sat on the floor and covered her face. She was still bewildered on what she did.

Holy shit! What in the hell did I do? I hope he doesn't tell his parents. I should have told him to keep it to himself.

She looked down and saw some semen residue on her shirt. With her finger, she scooped the semen and placed it in her mouth. Honestly, she didn't know that a person's first time tasted differently than anyone else. She swallowed it before getting it to collect the proceeds for the day.

As she went to the office, she turned on the laptop and went on her Facebook page. She decided to type "Lincoln Loud" into the search. She was fortunate to find him quickly. She closed her eyes for a moment to picture the look on his face. She watched as she was taking away his innocence. She was seeing a boy that she could control. She was beginning to enjoy this arrangement. She couldn't get enough.

She wanted more.

Lincoln, this is Ally from the candy shop. I have an arrangement I would like to discuss with you. If you can, meet me after closing time at the candy shop. Find a way to make an excuse so your parents won't find out.

Ally

P.S.: delete this message after reading this.

She turned off her Facebook and turned to the bulletin board. She closed her eyes again and began rubbing her erect nipples. She let out a soft moan from her touch. She used her other hand to slid to her groin. She began feeling something she hadn't felt in quite awhile. She was unsure if she would have achieved an orgasm, but she knew she had a purpose this summer.

She wanted more.

Chapter Text

Ally was grateful that it was summer vacation or else she didn't know what to do if she were late for a class. As a punctual person, she believed in getting things organized. It wasn't for her own gratification, but the sense of getting it done so she could prioritize on other issues such as spending time at the arcade, getting ticket for Comic Con in San Diego, gathering birenstocks on sale, and spending time with her girlfriend. The latter of the items compensated for any of those things. She sat up and turned off the alarm clock that rang NPR over the last couple of hours. She was tired to even care on whatever political topic to make a churn for the best or the worst of the country, depending on whether party. She wiped the sleep from her eyes before realizing that she spent part of the night crying for her ex-girlfriend.

Before going to sleep, she was scrolling through photos as a process of deletion until she saw a photo that commemorated their first date. It was a cheap pizzeria a few blocks from her college campus. It was there following they went to the tattoo parlor and got matching tattoos. She looked at her finger that had a small dove to it with a heart at the tip. Her ex-girlfriend had her heart on her finger as well. They crossed fingers, intertwining their love for each other whenever the kissed or made love. She brief reminisced the lovemaking they had whenever she visited her apartment off campus. She tucked her teeth when she saw another Facebook post of her ex-girlfriend sharing a kiss with her boyfriend. What brought insult to injury was the girl covered her tattoo of the dove and replaced it with something else. Out of anger, she threw her phone from the bed and scratched herself on her arm until she broke skin. She needed someone to blame, so she used herself as the target.

She was in a much calmer mood now. After taking a pill of prozac she got from her grandmother's medicine cabinet, she focused on the matter at hand, getting to see more of the white-haired chair. She was still in her polka dot panties. She never went to sleep with a bra. She sighed as she went to her CD player and tuned it to Tegan and Sara.

At the duo played their ballad, she went to her laptop where she went back on Facebook. After scrolling and skimming through messages of acquaintances and friends from back at school, her eyes widened when she saw a message from Lincoln. Her palms twitched a bit. She was quite surprised that Lincoln would actually respond.

She wasn't sure why the boy piqued her interest. He wasn't exactly her type; as if she could describe a type of her interest. Once again, she wasn't the pick of the litter. Her attitude wasn't the best and not being the prettiest girl doesn't make it any easier. She knew that she was hiding it as a source of an insecurity. However, she was too prideful to admit that. She scratched her underarms before opening the message.

Hey Ally,

This is Lincoln. Can't say I shouldn't be surprised by your response, but I am. I am fortunate to have made these exchanges with you. I really enjoy the trade we made. It let me with a lot of questions. Anyway, I have no problem of meeting you after closing time. However, I would prefer if we met someone more private. I don't a candy shop is a place if you want to make a trade. I don't want to do anything that will make you lose your job or embarrass your grandmother.

I told my best friend that I will be staying with him tonight. If you want, can I come at your place? Message me as soon as you can.

Lincoln.

Ally kind of smiled. She wasn't excited, but taken aback of the assertiveness of the white-haired boy's request. She played another Tegan and Sara before deciding to make a smoking session. As she thought of her decision, she couldn't imagine bringing Lincoln to a studio apartment. The house looked as if a cat-loving lesbian lived there. Although she had two cats and she is on spectrum of loving girls, it consumed of an anime-loving, folk rolk connoisseuring, pocky-eating girl. However, whenever she thought of him, she got a little spark. She didn't know why. She never felt that way around a person, neither her high school boyfriend or her previously ex-girlfriend.

After she smoked a stash of her marijuana she got from back home and masturbated to the thoughts of a threesome with Tegan and Sara while Ryan Reynolds watched, she made her decision to invite Lincoln to her home. She told Lincoln to meet her outside of her apartment around eight o'clock tonight. She was grateful of the convenience of Lincoln's house from her domicile. She took a final puff of her weed before making arrangements with the vacuum cleaner and dish towel.

It was a quarter after seven when she arrived back home from the grocery store. She had to make a few stops prior to the grocery store as well. One of which was visiting her parents. Despite not living at home with them, it was important, as well as keeping her trust fund, that she came to see her parents. She couldn't stand living in Palmer Woods and their prestige and aura didn't reflect Ally. Often she lied of her history, because she didn't vie the vanilla lifestyle of her parents and wanted something better. Her next stop was to see her grandmother. Although frail, it looked like she would make a full recovery. According to the doctor, she should return to work after eight weeks with intensive therapy and rehab. She didn't know that her sickness would take a toll, including her mobility. Nevertheless, her grandmother was grateful for Ally's visit. Following visiting her family, she stopped by the candy store to pick up a few items. She knew she was going to need them for later. At the grocery store, she picked up snack for whatever teenaged boys like. As much as she hung out with boys, it didn't fathom her to know what they eat. For her, a coffee and a bagel sufficed whenever she was studying or cramming for a test.

She placed the items on the counter before making her way to the restroom. As she sat on the toilet and began urinating, she got a message. She picked up the phone and saw it was Lincoln.

I am not that far. Be out there in a few minutes.

Lincoln

Ally's stomach churned. She was never really that nervous about having guest. On any ordinary day, her guest consumed of her high school friends, if any, and they would play Dungeons and Dragons. If not that, the evening was spent playing Overwatch and Skyrim following by consuming Wild Turkey and smoking marijuana. Aside from that, it was just company. It was surprising because this would be the first time to have a boy come and visit. She tried to tell herself that what was going on with Lincoln was nothing more than an encounter.

However, that spark occurred and she blushed upon sight.

I want more of that boy.

Didn't want to scare Lincoln away with folk rock, she put on some contemporary pop on the stereo. She went into the cabinet and got bowls for the chips and the dip. She microwaved some pizza rolls and Hot Pockets. The drinks were ginger ale and diet cola. She had a flask of her Wild Turkey, but she only need it for just in case.

After taking a final sweep of the house, she was ready for Lincoln. She sat on the couch and waited for his entrance. She checked her phone, it was a a few minutes before eight in the evening. Before she could talk a breath, the bell rang. She wiped her Kill La Kill t-shirt and straightened out her blue jeans. She walked to the door and whispered a prayer before opening the door.

When she opened it, she was taken aback. In front of her was an attractive woman with dark hair, which was tied into a bun. Her eyes were dark as the night. She was of Asian descent. She had a curvy body, which complimented her large bust. Her nose was pointy, which in the woman's perspective was her cutest trait. She was wearing a white silk blouse. Her glasses was perched on the edge of her nose, which gave her sex appeal.

"Melody." Ally spat from her lips when seeing the sights of the woman in front of her doorstep.

The woman smiled, spreading from ear to ear. "What's the matter, babe? You act like you don't want to see me."

"Don't want to see you," she retorted. "Do you have any clue on the hell you should be doing here?"

The woman called Melody walked inside of Ally's apartment as if she had lived there herself. She walked gracefully around the apartment. She saw Ally's spread for Lincoln and took a bite of the chips. She cringed before wiping her fingers on the couch. She turned around before making her appearance back to Ally.

Ally had a hands to her hips. Her face was beet red. She was frustrated and upset. She had the reason to be. Especially when her ex-girlfriend made a sudden appearance.

"What in the hell are you doing here," questioned Ally. She wanted answers. One moment she was breaking up with her and the next, she was at her door step.

"Cancun got boring so I send myself back here," she said as she took a seat on the bed. She made a little bounce before getting comfortable with her bed. "This is a nice bed! You can make some great magic here." She winked before crossing her legs seductively.

"I am glad you have decided to make your venture up here," she told Melody. "However, you must go!"

"Go," replied Melody while pouting. "You are going to leave poor little old me in the cold?"

Ally shook her head. "First of all, it's summer. Don't like when you do shit like this. Also, I have company coming over."

"Company," she purred while licking her lips to Ally. "Is she cute?"

"Firstly, no, it isn't a she. It's a he and a teenager at that."

"A kid, and he is a boy," said Melody. "You would you were a full fledged lesbian."

"That's your opinion and yours alone."

"Fooled me whenever we were in bed."

"Whatever. Anyway, he is going to be here any moment and…" She paused when she heard the door knocking in front of her. She swallowed nothing as she opened and she saw Lincoln. Lincoln was carrying his backpack, which she assumed was a sleeping bag. She gave him an awkward look before speaking to him.

"Hey, Lincoln," she said with an awkward tone. "Glad that you are here. Come on."

She opened the door to allow Lincoln inside of the house. The moment he entered, Melody raised her eyebrows at the white-haired child. Her face was flushed and her hands began to tremble. She licked her lips as she stared at him.

"Lincoln, sorry for thinking we were going to be alone," she told him. "I have unexpected company."

He shrugged. "That is okay." He kept his usual calm demeanor as he put down his backpack on the floor next to the couch. He turned and face the older brunette. He extended his hand. "Hi, my name is Lincoln."

Melody, still flustered at Lincoln's sight, took his hand. "The pleasure is all mine," she purred as she kissed his hand. She turned to Ally. "You have such a sweet boy in front of you."

Lincoln smiled. "Thanks."

Ally kept her demeanor. She tried her hardest to not display her frustration in front of Lincoln. She watched as Melody walked with Lincoln to the kitchen to get some food.

Chapter Text

Ally went into the hallway closet to get some extra pillows and blankets. She grabbed them tightly as they were very heavy. She made her way into the living room where she saw Lincoln and Melody sitting idly on the floor, in front of the couch. She was overhearing Melody talking to Lincoln about her travels through the world and the excitement of university life. Ally was too frustrated to get a word in since her evening was "cockblocked" by her ex-girlfriend. She breathed through her nose, hiding the irritation and the pain. In another light, she would've been thrilled to have Melody over. What kind of girlfriend wouldn't want their girl to visit, she thought to herself as she placed the pillows and blankets on the floor.

"Thanks. You are totes a doll," replied Melody as she spread the blanket to allow the trio to sit. She got Lincoln a pillow and he lied on the floor. Melody situated herself beside Lincoln. She patted another spot beside Lincoln for Ally. "Saved you the best seat in the house." Melody's smile was contagious. A smile that could change an entire person's mood. Ally couldn't help but to smile. It was part of the reason why Ally pursued Melody.

Melody reached over to grab the leftover snacks from the kitchen and put it in the middle for all of them to enjoy. She snuggled next to Lincoln, resulting in his blushing. "Ever spent time with an older woman before, Lincoln?" He blushed, shaking his head in disagreement. Melody smiled, giving Lincoln her alluring eyes. "It seems we have to make tonight special, don't we?" She stroked Lincoln's hair before returning her eyes on Ally.

A combination of envy and anger linger over Melody and Lincoln. Angry at Lincoln for his denying of resistance and jealous that she couldn't be the one to charm Lincoln. She was angry at Melody for doing that act in front of her and jealous as she wished she could have been stroked by her soft hands. She put a chip into her mouth as she lied beside Lincoln.

"What movie are interested in this evening," asked Ally as she played coy of the matter. I was in a mood for indie films and I have picked Liz in September, Lost and Delirious, and Bound. Which do you want to watch?"

"Lesbian, lesbian, lesbian," sneered Melody as she laughed into Lincoln's ear. "You must understand my friend here, Lincoln. She might enjoy the company and might fancy you, but she is into girls through and through."

Ally turned beet red like a tomato. "So, what," she told Melody defensively, raising her eyebrow. "So, I fancy girls, but it doesn't mean I am totally into girls."

Melody shrugged her shoulders. "Whatever, just basing facts is all. Then yet again, who I am to talk." She blew into Lincoln's ear. "I have this adorable little prince that keeps girls like me bi."

Ally gave Melody a stern look. "Take it easy, he is still a kid. Too young to know about this stuff."

"Actually, I am okay with it," interjected Lincoln. "I have a sister who is bi and has a girlfriend."

"Really," retorted Melody. "So you are in the know of these things?"

"Not really. Actually, I try to keep her life private." He turned to the screen. "I do my best not to get on people's nerves unless they offer it to me." He turned to Ally, displaying his glowing smile. "Ally, I have heard good things about Lost and Delirious. I heard my sister talking about it and I am very curious. Plus, there are risque parts I am very curious to know. Could we watch it, please."

Ally blushed on sight, but it quickly faded when Melody was in a pouty, pleading position. "Please?"

Ally shook her head and made her way to the DVD player where she put on the movie. She turned off the lights, only showing the bluish hue around the trio. Ally got closer to Lincoln and remained quiet as the movie began.

This was not how I planned my day, she thought to herself as the trio was into the movie. I wanted alone time with Lincoln. There were arrangements to be made. Why did this bitch ditched the fag and returned back to me. This is hurtful for me. This isn't fair to Lincoln. This isn't fair to anybody. Why does she want to do whatever she feels like it is her business to do?

She watched Melody chewing on the microwave popcorn she made earlier into the film.

"Pauline is such a lipstick," said Melody. "But the chemistry between her and Victoria made it passionate." She turned to Ally. "Reminds me of back in the day."

Ally silenced Melody. We are talking about this in front of Lincoln.

He wouldn't care. It should excite him.

By displaying our former relationship in his face?

I never said it was a former.

Yes, you did! Don't act like this is one of random rendezvous.

You should know my randomness. I can't commit. You know that?

By dumping me quickly, travel with some fag, and come back in a matter of days?

Hey, he isn't just a fag. He likes girls, too, you know.

I don't get you. Why are such this fallible?

Because it excites you, that's why.

How so?

You are clearly attracted to taking risk. Why do you have him in here?

.

What's the matter? Cat got your tongue? Struck a nerve? Face it, you are no different than me.

Fuck you!

Ally folded her arms and looked away from Melody. She scanned and saw Lincoln into the movie. His eyes widened when they showed the love scene between the two girls in the dormitory.

Ally watched his lips were agape. His breath became labored by seeing two girls displaying their affection. She turned to the part where the girls were caressing their body; communicating in the language of love as they touched lips. Their bodies mounded and bounded; locking each other into a fiery passion that only God himself could stop. It made her think of Melody and the many encounters she shared with her.

Lincoln sat up and put his knees at his chest. He remained quiet, but his breath continued to be labored. Ally knew there was only one reason he was in that position. He was aroused.

Suddenly, the spark returned. She couldn't forget the encounter they shared in the back office. She craved his taste, his body, his everything. It made her confused because as much she was angry at Melody, but she being there is making her think otherwise. She pinched her arm to remind herself to keep her composure. On the surface, she didn't want neither to think nothing was wrong.

Although her desires for Lincoln were there, but the desires of Melody were returning. She knew Melody felt the same way. She felt her soft hands swaying on Ally's shoulder. Ally didn't resist, but allowed Melody to do her will. Melody climbed on top of the couch and made her way to Ally. Ally looked up to her former damsel as Melody took her hands on Ally's face and planted a kiss on her lips.

Ally allowed Melody's tongue to do a dance with hers. It felt right, according to Ally. Everything from the frat party to the tattoo to their lovemaking was making Ally emotional. She continued the kiss until it was broken.

"You can never stay mad at me," said Melody.

"Whatever," replied Ally as she wiped her face with her sleeve.

She blushed, feeling the moistness in her crotch. She turned to Lincoln where he kept his composure. However, looking at Melody's face, she knew that Melody was done from finished. Melody slid her hands across Lincoln's chest, which made Lincoln gasped upon contact. She drew a heavy whisper to his ear. "Have you ever kissed a girl before?"

In response, Lincoln nodded with confirmation while staring straight into the screen. Melody bit into his ear. "Let me ask you again. Have you ever kissed a woman before?"

"None my age," he managed to say before he felt the warm palms of Melody touching at his crotch. She gave him a whisper as she massaged his dick. She kissed him on his neck before sliding her hand to his chin to give him a kiss. Ally watched how Lincoln was novice at it. She forced her tongue into his mouth, leaving him confused, but looking at his body, he wanted more. He moaned a little before the kiss was broken.

"That is a woman's kiss," purred Melody.

Before Lincoln could utter a response, Melody came in and gave him another. Ally was taken aback. In the process, she pulled Melody from Lincoln.

"What the hell, Ally," screamed Melody.

"For this," she told Melody. She took Lincoln by his shirt collar and enveloped her lips with his. She closed her eyes as she put Lincoln to the floor. Lincoln began moaning slightly as he was panting heavily from the pressure of Ally on top. While she continued kissing him, Ally began rubbing his penis. Knowing it was hard, she continued fondling it.

"Remember who you belong to, kid," she told Ally as she planted a kiss on his cheek.

Lincoln couldn't speak, but he nodded his head in confirmation.

Ally looked to his pants. She smirked while licking her lips. She reached for the button to unzip his pants. Meanwhile, she felt another presence massaging her breasts. She gasped as she felt Melody behind her, kissing the nape of her neck.

"Do you want what you do this me," moaned Melody in between pants.

"Wouldn't know since you end it," replied Ally.

"Don't be that way. Let me remind you of our love."

Melody slid her hands into Ally's shirt, squeezing her breasts and flicking her nipples. Meanwhile, she pulls down Lincoln's pants as his erected penis displayed proudly on his boxers. Melody saw the sight and giggled. "Did we excite you, dear?"

Lincoln turned away, blushing in the process.

"Lincoln, don't turn away from your big sisters," answered Melody. "It is okay. We don't want you to miss out either." She eyed Ally. "Right?"

Ally sighed, but seeing the somewhat pathetic look of a nubile, novice was returning the spark. She began smiling devilishly. "She is right," she purred. "You don't want these big sisters to miss out on seeing you like this." Melody and Ally looked at Lincoln's dick as they put their hands around it.

Lincoln's flinched the moment he felt the girls playing with his dick. "Shh! It will be okay. Close your eyes and relax. Let your big sister take care of you."

He nodded his head. Ally came to Lincoln's ear and began to whisper. "I am interested in making a trade. Are you in?"

He nodded his head amidst the feeling of his near climax.

"Good."

Chapter Text

A thought is born once it comes to mind, but its longevity depends on you. It can cease, or it can perpetuate and it becomes bigger than you think.

It has actually be quite a while since I have written into a journal. I can think of numerous of reason that would summate to nowhere. Perilous it may sound, but perilous it is. It is troublesome to write something so dismay that it is real. Excuse my vocabulary and its negativity, but I feel some ill that it is driving me crazy. What I am trying to write is that I know my well-being, as well as my sanity, is in danger.

I have been confined to a place I never thought I would be, let alone, think of it. I am in a enclosed, confined space where I see chains lay on the walls, with hammered shackles on the floor. The air had a pungent odor, a horrid stench. It can be depicted as a scent of depression, or suffering.

Or death.

I shudder as I am writing this, for I don't know how long it has been since I was taken away to this place of the unknown. Ever since she has taken me, ever since she has taken me.

"Willow."

It was a few hours since I have returned from the arcade. I came in through the backdoor without alerting any of my family members. Lately, they have been worried about me. The aloofness of my being alone is concerning them. They are thinking something is in the mist. I try my hardest to not elaborate, so I quietly entered through the kitchen and jettison to the living room so they wouldn't see me.

Fortunately, none of them were home. I went upstairs and made my way to the bathroom where I investigated my neck. Red, tender, blood still leaking. There were some dry blood from the trail where the mysterious woman came and bit me. I can hear her screeching voice hallowing into the night; wrapping around me like a tattered cloth. The woman of the night, hiding in the shadows; using the trees as her cloak as she descended and made a feast out of me.

A feast she partook to her slothful, greedy lips. She licked my blood with tender care from her fingers, leaving me with an agonizing feeling of defeat, embarrassment, and overall, shame. She took her step and alerted me that it won't be her last time.

She has my scent.

I used a wet cloth to write the wounds. It is sensitive to the touch. I applied some ointment to treat the wound, but it still burns. I always thought that bites like that were supposed to numb the pain. It didn't. Here I was standing in the mirror looking at my feverish face. I couldn't believe that something like that happened to me.

I was attacked by a vampire.

I never doubt the certainty of vampires. Ongoing rumors were running rampant like an unregulated dam. I know, horrible analogy. But the point was this wasn't the first I have heard of it. It was a few days ago in school when I heard one of my classmates talking about her near-encounter of the mysterious vampire. Her recollection was walking from the movies and hearing the sound of screeching laughter. The woman appeared before the scared girl before putting her clutches to her. Fortunately, the vampire was subdued with pepper spray. The girl was unscatched, physically.

After taking off my clothes, I make my way to the bedroom where I decided to call it the night. I didn't want this night to affect me. I applied a bandage to my wound, I drank some lemon tea, and called it the night. Tomorrow was a new day and I could forget what happened. It sounded easy to the tongue, but would it penetrate the mind as well.

Apparently, it didn't.

Amazing how your mind could channel a thought and produce it to a level of uncertainty. Let me put it this way. A thought is born once it comes to mind, but its longevity depends on you. It can cease, or it can perpetuate and it becomes bigger than you think. The stronger the thought, the powerful it can be. You can become your own worst enemy if those thoughts become too powerful to control (in the negative sense at least). Anyway, my mind wouldn't falter of the encounter. It ran my mind like a marathon. It couldn't kept calm like a game of scrimmage. It build, filling my mind with the encounter. I bathed in it as I can feel the fang breaking my flesh. It continued until I fell asleep.

I woke up in the heat of the night. I couldn't breathe. I reached my arms into air as if I was trying to catch something. Who or what I was catching, I was unsure. I remember breaking into a cold sweat, asking God for breath as I dwindled from whatever of a hell I came from. Once I calm down, I was able to breathe. I reached for a bottle of water to open up my passageways; alleviate the tension, relax my body, something to remind myself that I was in the real world versus that dream.

A dream that I saw more of her. A dream where her bite wasn't enough. She came for me, exposing the colorless pupils. Using the very weapon to consume blood, but instead consume my flesh. She ravaged me, screamed in delight, wrapping to consume me like a spider does to her prey. I was nothing left but pellets for not even the scavengers or the carrions would consume.

Nothingness. Just pure nothingness.

I sat up in bed, seeing the rain dropping against the windowpane. The droplets making a dance with accompanied random beats. The lightning was on display and the thunder made their magnificent crescendo. The symphony of the weather was performing very well on that night, performing a show just for me to witness.

Or so I thought.

Tap, tap, tap

Tap, tap, tap

Tap, tap, tap

At first, I thought it was the rattling of my rod hitting the window. The fan was blowing into my room, making its white noise into the darkness of my room. I tried not to think nothing of it. I grabbed my neck, still feeling its tenderness, and tried to return to sleep.

Tap, tap, tap

Tap, tap, tap

Tap, tap, tap

TAP, TAP, TAP

The knocking continued. I shivered as I turned to the direction of the source. It was coming from my bedroom door. I stared as I wonder who or what was behind my door. Was it my sisters? Was it my parents? As much I wanted to know, my gut feeling was telling me that whatever is behind that door is a force to be reckoned.

I silently called for Lori. i assumed it could have been her. Lori was the type to be out sometime in the night and maybe she wanted something from me. Maybe it was Lucy who wanted to give her some advice. Maybe I was making these assumptions as neither of them would do such things. It was not in their nature. Maybe I was making these excuses because I know that someone was knocking my door. It continued every other second. Each knock was intricate to the point it was matching my heartbeat. Loud, then fainting, loud, then fainting. It is riveting, riveting, riveting. I covered my eyes. I don't why I said it, but I did.

"The devil is not welcomed here."

It stopped. The tapping went away. I sat up and wiped the sweat from my brow. I made a huge sigh. My mind was getting dizzy, consumed with the precognitive fear.

I heard a voice. It said, "If the devil isn't welcomed, then what about the queen of the night?"

I jumped from my bed. I made my way to the wall before a flash of lightning entered my room. Like a flash of a camera, standing before me in the shadows was the woman of the night.

My eyes widened when seeing the appearance. She looked like the girl I have met at the arcade a few hours prior. The same girl I played video games and had a pleasant conversation. The same girl who gave me such compassion. She extended her long black river of silk she called hair; she gave such a Cheshire Cat grin, exposing her fangs.

Clothed in a dark veil that reminded me of something Nathaniel Hawthorne would have written, she made graceful steps as I was crawling back to the finite dead end of the corner in my bedroom. She got closer and closer and closer and closer and CLOSER and CLOSER. Each time she gave a small tsk.

As I covered myself, she was at face length with me. I squeezed my eye shut. I didn't want to look. I didn't want to look. I didn't want to look at the girl who I thought was cute could be the same girl who bit me and was in my bedroom.

Tá mé tar éis dul i ngleic leat. Tá tú gafa i mo ngréasán. Tá frithsheasamh inmharthana mar a chuirfidh tú faoi bhráid orm (Don't fight it. You are caught in my web. Resistance is futile).

She deposited those haughty words onto my breath as she stroked my cheek. She blew into my ear before covering me in her cape. I tried to scream but she covered my mouth.

Anois, anois. Ní mór duit fret. Cuirfidh tú isteach ar na daoine eile. Níl aon ghá le seasamh. Glac le do chinniúint díreach mar a chinn mé é (Now, now. You have no need to fret. You will interfere with the others. There is no need to fight it. Take your fate just as I have decided it).

She tightly grabbed me, ripping the bandage from my neck. Her breath entranced and hovered around my spot. She let out a small cry as she got a scent of my blood.

She said, "It is because of this precious blood that I can't get enough of it. I crave for it. I want more of it." I panicked as I saw her eyes giving me a yellowish glow. "I want more of you." She covered my mouth as I almost screamed. She licked the wound before going into it again. She pressed her body against the wall that I was unable to fight back. I muffled and I muffled until it became a losing battle. My body became limped. She held me as I knew I was losing consciousness.

Codladh, mo dhaor, codlata. Ní gá troid leis seo. Níl aon ghá ag fulaingt. Tá tú caillte. Ghéill tú. Codladh, mo doll fola luachmhar. Cuir isteach duit féin, leanbh. Anois, codlata (Sleep, my dear, sleep. No need to fight with this. There is no need to suffer. It is over, dear. Sleep, my precious blood doll. You have lost. Now, sleep).

I collapsed onto her bosom and that was the last thing I could remember.

Chapter Text

His grandfather sat quietly on the floor in a cross-legged position. His eyes were tightly shut, holding the rosary bead as he whispered the Lord's prayer with repetition. Each bead he touched, the tighter were his eyes and his hands. Lincoln felt his grandmother's touch as she cradled him while rubbing his hair. His facial expression displays confusion, as he still didn't know what was occurring in this particular juncture. There was silence in the living room. Only the signs of noise were the murmuring of his grandparents and the crackling from the fireplace. He watched the chimney as the fire was crackling loudly. He returned his sights on his grandparents as they both continued to say the Lord's prayer.

The sound of the telephone interrupted the silence. His grandfather quickly jolted and made his way to the kitchen. Lincoln couldn't interpret the conversation for he was speaking in another language. His father told Lincoln that his grandfather spent several years in Okinawa following the Cold War. His military experience and his extensive stay allowed his grandfather to embellish in their culture; adapting to their customs and learning their native tongue. Back home, his family reminded him of his grandfather's obscurities and strangeness, especially with the paranormal.

"Hai, sayonara."

His grandfather hung up the phone and returned to the living room. He came to Lincoln where he rubbed the white-haired child on the forehead before kissing his wife on the cheek. He returned to the cross-legged position. Only this time, he began to speak.

"They are on their way. They wanted confirmation to be certain that he saw what he saw," replied his grandfather in a low-pitched voice. Lincoln saw that only a handful of times when he was low-pitched. The day when Lincoln lost his great aunt in a car accident and the day when his grandmother had a heart attack. Hearing that reminded Lincoln of the seriousness of the matter. He remain attentive, awaiting any instruction he grandfather was going to say.

"Lincoln." He sighed. He took sharp breaths. He looked to the ceiling and gave the sign of the cross before returning his sights on Lincoln. "I want to let you know that everything is going to be alright. You will be fine. You will safe. But, you have to make sure that you saw what you saw." He furrowed his eyes. "Understand?"

Lincoln nodded with affirmation.

"Did you see a woman in a white gown wearing a straw hat?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are you certain of the woman's height?"

"Yes, sir. She was taller than me, you, grandma. Like a basketball player," replied Lincoln hesitantly. "She was tall and slender. She kept saying, 'po, po, po,' noises. It was strange and very creepy. It was as if she was looking for somebody."

"Ok, Lincoln," replied his grandfather. He reached for his cigarettes from his pants pocket along with a match. He lit the match as he inhaled his carcinogens. He blew into the air, releasing a smoke ring. If it were not for the current predicament, Lincoln would have been amazed. "Now, did you get a look of the woman?"

"I didn't directly. I saw her image from the reflection of my cell phone."

"Was she staring at your phone?"

"Yes, sir."

Instantly, Lincoln felt the tightness of his grandmother as she cradled him further into her bosom. She whimpered quietly as she rubbed her grandson's hair and kissing him on his head. His grandfather took another smoke from his cigarette. He cracked his knuckles before returning to speak.

"Listen, what I am about to tell you is important. I don't want you to panic or become scared." He averted his eyes briefly. He tucked his bottom lip, combating the tears. "I am afraid that you have been marked by the Hachisakusama."

"Hachisakusama?"

"It is Japanese for Ms. Eight Feet Tall," answered his grandfather. "This woman is a very dangerous spirit. This spirit makes an appearance as a very tall woman who dresses in white and carries a straw hat. She can be identified by her saying the 'po' sounds. There have been accounts where they have seen her wearing kimonos; some have seen her in funeral attire; and others have seen her as an old hag. But one thing is for certain, she has specific targets in mind. Those targets are children."

"Children," retorted Lincoln.

"Children are more vulnerable to spirits," replied his grandfather. "This woman targets children and uses them for whatever discretion she choses. Regardless, the children she targets never returned home."

Lincoln's stomach churned after hearing the latter part of the sentence.

"Back when I was stationed in Japan, I have heard of this. But, I shrugged it off as superstition like Bigfoot or the Loch Ness monster. However, there was a case in which one of the villagers found their daughter."

"What a minute," interjected Lincoln. "If they found her, then why did you say they never re-" He stopped. He looked down, putting his hands on his lap. If he could retch, then this would have been a great opportunity.

"I didn't think it would make an occurrence here. Especially in America of all places." Lincoln judged that his grandfather was talking more to himself than to him and his grandmother.

A few moments later, there was a knock at the door. His grandfather stood and went to the door. Lincoln turned to the direction of his grandfather. He overheard him speaking Japanese as he made his way back to the living room. As he returned, Lincoln saw an older woman with long salt-and-peppered hair. The other one was a small, stout gentleman with a bald head.

Lincoln swallowed the lump in his throat as they intently stared at him. They gave the sign of the cross before returning to his grandfather. The man spoke to his grandfather in Japanese while his grandfather was nodding. The woman was carrying a bag and placed it on the ground. She kneeled as she began pulling out items.

Lincoln's grandfather stretched his arms and took another sharp breath. He turned to Lincoln. "Lincoln, do not be alarmed. These two are good friends of mine. They also live here in the village." He introduced them to him. "This woman is AIko and the gentleman is Hideo. They are experts when dealing with the paranormal. They will be here to help."

Lincoln shook head as he stared at the peculiar duo.

Aiko spoke to his grandfather. Lincoln's grandfather pointed upstairs. She bowed to him before she and Hideo made their way upstairs.

"Grandpa, what are they doing?"

"Taking care of things in your room."

"My room?"

"Yes, Lincoln. You see, the Hachisakusama isn't finished. Since she has got you in her sights, she is determined to get you. Aiko and Hideo are blessing your room; giving it protection from the spirits." He took off his glasses. "Lord, give Lincoln the strength."

A few minutes later, Aiko and Hideo returned downstairs. The pair went to his grandfather and spoke briefly. Then, the mysterious woman walked to Lincoln. She extended her hands to him.

"Come with me, child," said Aiko in a stern, yet concerned manner.

He turned to his grandfather, which he gave Lincoln a nod for confirmation. He followed Aiko to his bedroom. As he walking, he was seeing the sun going down. He whispered a prayer for his safety, for he knew that his night was just beginning.

Chapter Text

On the second floor of the Royal Woods School is the girls bathroom. Reserved for the sixth graders, the bathroom was not to be used during instruction, or unless there was an emergency from one of the students. It was the decision of Ronnie Anne as she sat idly in Math to raise her hand to use the restroom. The teacher stopped her lecture, turning to the student in question. Ronnie Anne gave her teacher pleading eyes of her duress of using the toilet facilities. It was met with a sigh as she pointed to her to leave her classroom. Ronnie Anne responded with a gentle nod of thanks before grabbing the hall pass from the teacher's desk and making her way out of the classroom.

The hallway during class was a fair contrast when transitioning to other classes. Instead of students running through the halls, tossing papers at classmates, leaning against the lockers, or occasionally, reaching for a textbook for another class, she felt like a loner in the vast hallway of learning. She let out a silent laugh as she reading the sign that was above her.

She pulled out a stick of gum from her jacket and begin chewing. Spearmint was her choice this afternoon. She borrowed it from one of her friends during P.E. class. Instead of running track, she and the other girls were posted at the tennis courts having a smoking session. The premature adolescents couldn't care less about health and fitness whereas they could channel their energy on promiscuity, debauchery, and the like. Ronnie Anne could still pictured sitting at the base of the net, smoking some filter cigarettes and listening to trap music. Their gym coach was too consumed about another failed relationship to care about the welfare of her students. And judging by the other students, the feelings were mutual.

Angela was the leader of the pack. A self-made girl who had predestined her future at the age of seven, after losing both of her parents to drug overdose and suicide to loathe society and return it with the hell of her choosing. A third-time sixth grader, she had the mastery to know the schematics of Royal Woods School and to take advantage of any student out there. To Ronnie Anne, surviving in sixth grade meant being apart of Angela's team. The unusually tall redhead was playing solitaire against the net whereas her other confidants kept watch for teachers or other students. Yumi and Danielle were the names of Angela's enforcers. Yumi was a petite, brunette tomboy who carried the world on her shoulders, wore her heart on her sleeve, and had a chip on her shoulder. Because of her fierce reputation, her unspoken nickname was Basket Case. A juvenile offender, she has spent many months in jail before returning to school on the condition she abide to her probation. Amazing that they had allowed a sexual deviant to return to school to lurk on unsuspecting boys. According to Yumi, she has a paraprofessional that watched her during class, but it had never stopped her on pursuing boys. Danielle was a different story. She was Angela with no class. A leader, but a path to hell was her destiny. Danielle came from a broken home. She was conceived from rape and her mother returned the favor to her along with the many boyfriends that came into that home. The youngest of the group and the shortest, she was also the beauty of Royal Woods. However, many should not let her physical appearance undermine her true nature. She was currently on probation and has been bouncing from group home to group home since she was in the second grade. If the school could define these girls, their rightful word was lost.

Ronnie Anne reached for another cigarette. Yumi asked for one. Ronnie Anne gave it to Yumi before lighting up to consume the smoke. She choked a little before giving it to Danielle. Danielle took it before keeping her eyes at the track field. She glared with intent, looking at specific details. When Ronnie Anne saw Danielle with that look, she knew that she was helping Angela looking for a victim.

"Yumi," cried Angela as she was pulling her cards to play another game. "Did you get in contact with the john for tonight?"

"Yeah, I did," replied Yumi as she was adjusting her skirt. "He is offering $500 each for all of us if he brings some friends of his."

"Where at?"

"At the usual spot."

Angela reached for a cigarette. "Cool. Tell him that we can do it, but he has to pay an additional finders fee since he is telling us at the last night. I will get in contact with Julio so he can take us. He owes me a favor anyway." She set her sights on Ronnie Anne. "Are you down with us tonight?"

Ronnie Anne looked at Angela with sure certainty. "Of course, I am down. Plus, I need the money anyway. Tired of living on social security and disability."

Angela gave a smirking glare. "Just making sure. I mean, you were wailing the last time as if that man was raping you."

"Give her break, Ang," replied Yumi. "How would you feel if your cherry was popped from a john?"

"Wouldn't know, Yumi," said Angela while sighing. "My mom gave me quite a beating that I passed out while getting mine taken care of."

Yumi shrugged her shoulder before returning to her post. Danielle took another puff of the cigarette. Ronnie Anne learned since joining the gang that Danielle was a woman of few words. Her actions did more of the talking than her speaking. Danielle stood tall like a statue, patrolling the area as she was looking for a student. Knowing of her wits, it wouldn't be long before she spot someone.

"So, Angela, our next gofer. How we going to break him in this time," asked Yumi while smiling. Yumi pulled out her Harley Quinn handkerchief and wiped the sweat from her forehead. "I am very curious on what crafty technique you have this time."

Angela didn't turn. She scoffed as she finished her second hand of the cards. "Whoever it may be, I know I am going to housebreak this one. I need someone that isn't going to squeal. This time, I will plant so much fear into him that he has no choice but to bow down to me. I am looking for someone that I can have serious, serious fun."

"I wouldn't mind a practice boy myself," answered Yumi. "I love breaking down boys. I like breaking down girls too. But something about a boy is more potent than a girl. It is a revolution of sorts. It is like changing the era of a feminist movement. It is like..."

"Can you shut the fuck up," interjected Angela angrily. "You talk too damn much. That is how we got in trouble last time. With that big ass mouth of yours." She spat on the ground. "Damn."

"Sorry, boss," replied Yumi as she returned her sights on Danielle.

Ronnie Anne's reasoning of joining this game was based on the need of a support system. Since her mother lost her job as a nurse after the accident, the family had to live on disability. It wasn't long until their father died from a work accident. Because of his status as a illegal alien, the family was unable to reap the benefits from his job. They didn't have any insurance on him. It was because of the Hispanic community that his coffin and funeral was paid for. Since then, Ronnie Anne's distrust of people driven her to a point where she decided to go rogue and hang with Angela and her crew. Although she was a force of her own, but it was the power in numbers that promoted her ego. Since then, her loyalty for the crew was strong. Fortunately, she hasn't faced trouble with the law. However, her attitude and her personality gained her a harsh reputation from school and at home. She has been suspended on numerous occasions for fighting, vandalism, and truancy. Her friendships with Clyde and Lincoln came to a screeching halt.

Departing from Lincoln was the most bitterest pill to swallow for Ronnie Anne. Her feelings for Lincoln were too minute to save her from joining the game. She exchanged her personality with a tan, leopard-skinned clothing, and an abundance of make-up. She picked up the appearance of the fierce, detritus Latina girl. She always thought of Lincoln. Even as she passed by him, a glimmer of hope would spark to see if Lincoln would respond. Neither of that happened. She gripped her heart as well as the pack of cigarettes in her hand.

"Bingo." The girls set their sights on Danielle as she spoke. They knew she had picked a target. The logistical mind of Danielle Li was uncanny. She was remarkably intelligent. With the exception of her conduct, she scored high marks. However, school never matter for Danielle. It is spatial reasoning and manipulation that desired the fair-skinned girl to attend school. She was seeking their uses and she was using it well. Even Angela knew that Danielle was the most deviant of them all.

"Boss, look at the white-haired child next to the black kid," she told Angela. Danielle gave Angela the binoculars. Angela scanned the binoculars before releasing a smile.

"Lincoln Loud," she spoke quietly. The response was dry. However, with her nodding her head. It was met with a unwritten seal of approval. "I have heard many things about that kid." She turned to Ronnie Anne. "DId you and white bread had some kind of fling back in the day."

Ronnie Anne blushed. "It wasn't really a fling. I had some fun with the twerp. He is easy going."

"Well, easy going is all I need to break a bitch," replied Angela. She turned to Yumi. "Make sure to talk with one of the boys to get Lincoln out of class today. I have some kind of project he is going to do for us."

Ronnie Anne's face became drained, losing color. She stepped back as she knew that Lincoln was in danger. Ronnie Anne felt that this should have been the opportunity to stop this. She coughed a little before trying to interject.

"Listen, Angela," interjected Ronnie Anne. "I wouldn't be so sure if you want to fuck with Lincoln."

All of the girls turned to Ronnie Anne. Their eyes gave her a stern look. One thing about Angela. A person shouldn't never object when an order was given out to them.

"Why in the hell not," questioned Angela.

"I am saying this because he comes from a tight knit family," replied Ronnie Anne. "This kid is one of eleven sisters. Hell, a few of sisters go here." She spat on the ground. "Do I have to mention that he is also kin to Lynn?"

Angela put her finger to her lip. She drifted her eyes slowly. "Ronnie Anne, I didn't know that Lincoln was that deep with kin." She then turn to the other girls. "I also realized that I don't really give a damn of who he is affiliated with." The response was met with laughter from the others. "Like I give a fuck about Lynn. I am not scared of the white bread bitch. I am not scared of any of those Louds. If they want to have a piece of this German engineering, then come for me, bitch."

Yumi and Danielle nodded their head as they were backing their boss. Ronnie Anne looked down to the ground. Embarrassed for challenging Angela and feeling defeated for trying to defend Lincoln.

"Judging by him, it won't take much to scare him," replied Angela.

"I want him."

Angela, Ronnie Anne, and Yumi turned to Danielle as she continued staring at Lincoln. "If the boss desires him, then I want him. He is too sincere, too nice. Too gentle of a person to have a care in the world." Her nonchalantness turned in a sheer grin. "And I want to break the hell out of his giddiness. I want to break this fucker and anything morality that is within him." She looked at Yumi while licking her lips. "Find a way to get him to the bathroom today and I will get really acquainted with him."

"Wow," replied Angela with a surprised expression on her face. "If this want Danielle wants, then who I am to obliged." She threw the cigarette on the ground, stepping on it with her soles. "Okay, then. We are on."

Ronnie Anne stood at the foot of the restroom entrance. She was fortunate that the heavy wooden doors blockade any sound that penetrated the restroom. She scanned around for others before giving three silent knocks. Her knocks were returned with four silent knocks. She heard the door unlocked and saw Yumi in front of the door.

"Hey, Ronnie Anne."

""Sup."

Ronnie Anne entered the restroom. The restroom was a standard restroom. Painted in the color of pink, it had four stalls and four sinks. It had an elongated window that extended on top of the wall. It was also the only restroom with an air dryer. However, this restroom was currently reserved for a more sinister purpose.

It was surprisingly silent, Ronnie Anne thought. She saw Yumi in her usual, troubling demeanor. She saw Angela in the corner of the restroom smoking. She realized that Danielle was missing.

Before she could utter Danielle's name, Yumi extended her hand, promoting silence. She lingered her finger and pointed at the last stall in the restroom.

"Danielle is in there giving him his most pleasurable experience," smirked Yumi.

Ronnie Anne walked to the stall where she carefully opened the door. Her mouth went agape at the scene of her discovery. Lincoln's head was inside of the toilet. From her position, she could see an obstruction covering his eyes. She could also see something else around his neck. She watched as Danielle was on top of Lincoln. Grunting noises was the only thing coming from Danielle's mouth. When Ronnie Anne realized it, she saw a strap on around Danielle.

"Give it to me," cried Danielle. "Give it to mama. Take it. Take it. Take it." Her voice displayed exhaustion, which concerned Ronnie Anne. She saw a cell phone on the top of the toilet, recording the events unfolding.

"How long has Danielle been doing this to Lincoln," questioned Ronnie Anne.

Yumi scratched her head. "I don't know. Maybe forty minutes. I mean that boy was unrelenting, but me, Ang, and Danielle put him in his place." She licked her lips. "He had some fight in him, but damn, we got him. Why? Want to join?"

She turned right. "Not right. Just surprised you got the twerp."

Angela exhaled a puff of smoke. "A worthy investment indeed, Ronnie Anne. I think he is going to work just fine."

She turned to the moans of Danielle taking advantage of the unconscious Lincoln. "That's it. Take that cock. Take that cock. I am coming. I am coming." She watched Danielle ebbed in the afterglow of her orgasm. She hovered on top of Lincoln before pulling the strap-on out of him. She looked the moment she saw blood dripping from his ass.

"Poor Linc was a virgin," cried Yumi. "Surprised you didn't break him in, Ronnie."

"I enjoyed it," replied Danielle. She got her cell phone and put it in her pocket. "I look forward to doing it with him again soon."

"I got next," shouted Yumi.

"Go ahead," replied Danielle as she took off the strap-on and gave it to Yumi. "It has been awhile since I gave cock than take it. This should be exciting. It is too bad that this fish doesn't squirm. Next time perhaps."

Ronnie Anne saw Yumi rubbed the strap-on at the ridge of his ass before entering it into his cavern. She giggled as she continously thrusted inside of the poor, unconscious white-haired child.

"Take it," she grunted. "Take it. Tell me how it feels. Tell me how it makes you feel, you stupid bitch!"

Danielle sat at the floor of the restroom while watching the replay of her interactions. Angela sat beside her and watched it. Hearing the agonizing sound of his voice deter her from looking at the video.

Please, let me go. Don't do this to me. Please, I beg of you.

Shut up, bitch. Better follow directions or else, we make this worse.

Hey, Danielle. See if this boy is a virgin.

No, don't touch me.

Shut up! You never know what kind of perspective you can from this.

This feels weird. Let me go.

I said, shut up. Yumi, get your bandana to shut him up.

Got it, boss.

Yeah, boss! He is a virgin.

Excellent, Danielle. Care to do the honors?

Con gusto.

Ronnie Anne heard the muffled cries of Lincoln as Danielle raped him. She shut her eyes and looked away from them. At that moment, she began to feel ill and sat at the foot of the sink. She pulled out her cell phone and began listening to music. She shut off the sounds of Yumi, Angela, and Danielle. She confided herself in her brain where she had spent plenty of time about the misguidedness of her youth.

I am sorry, Lincoln. I am so, so, sorry, Lincoln.

Chapter Text

Aiko led the way to where Lincoln resided. She allowed the concerned child to enter the room first. Lincoln saw her extend her hardened, crinkle hands into the bedroom. Lincoln took a sharp breath as the room he was entering was going to remain his enclosed domicile for the remainder of the evening. He was uncertain of the details, but hearing his grandfather conversing with the elderly couple in question in Japanese, he knew something was wrong. What he didn't tell the family was that he was a beginner in speaking the Japanese language. What began from the fascination of anime, manga, and the movies of Japan, turned into a curiosity of learning the language, the culture, and the like. Unfamiliar with the Hachishakusama, or the Eight Foot Tall woman, he knew that this was a dire situation for he saw the fear embellishing on his grandmother's sunken face. Lincoln wasn't a believer of urban legends. In fact, he never pardon the facts of Bigfoot, the sightings at Area 51, or any other American tale. He shrugged it off as the oddity of culture; something to grow fascination for the yet-discovery of the truth.

So, he found it obscure to contest, better yet challenge his grandparents on the theory of this Hachishakusama. For what it was worth, it could have been a strange woman. Every village was going to have their "village idiot," or something of a basket case. He was trying his hardest on not becoming a skeptic, as it would have served as disrespect to his loving, concerned grandparents. To bring relief and a peace of mind, he was going to follow the orders of Aiko. Whatever she insisted, he would deliver. If he add a consolation, it was something he could tell his family upon his return.

He hoped that this situation was another hoax or something to insight fear in the somewhat naive white-haired child. It wasn't the first time his grandfather pulled tricks to arouse fear in the child. He prayed to God that tonight was one of his cruel, childish antics.

Lincoln sat on his bed as Aiko came to bless the bedroom. She hummed a few chants as she swayed incense around the bedroom. The scent of a musty, mildew scent infiltrated his nostrils, but he was caught up in the moment to not care. Aiko reached into her purse and pulled out a crinkled piece of paper. It was yellowish and displayed kanji characters.

"Take this, child and hold on to it for the rest of the night," she said calmly. "This talisman is to protect you and give you divine grace for the night. With that, there shouldn't be any fears."

"Yes, ma'am," responded Lincoln as he took the talisman. "Ms. Aiko?"

"Yes, child."

"I am still not getting the severity of this creature. For all I know, that woman could have been something of a mirage. Maybe I got confused and mistaken her for something else. I mean, it is summer. I wasn't drinking my fluids and may have been dehydrated."

Aiko placed her hand on Lincoln, rubbing his forehead. "Poor child. I know this may be denial, but understand that this situation is no laughing matter. Today, you were targeted by a great demon. A demon who chases after children like you. She preys on you until you are no more, child. She preys after children who seeks a great desire until you are nothing but the dust you came from."

"Desire," questioned Lincoln.

"The creature, I mean, demon seeks and prey upon those who has a missing void within. Like a child, curiosity and modesty is something of importance. A simple mindset and even as giving a stranger some form of love drives the demon nuts with vitality. If you saw her, then she has made her move to the States." She put her finger to her forehead. "It is strange, especially something indigenous to my motherland has crept from the shadows of this village."

Lincoln sighed. "This is something I should fear."

"Fear is only powerful if you allow it to manifest, child. I am woman of peace," she said as she pulled out some other talismans. "I like to be cautious, just in case."

Lincoln watched Aiko plastered the windows, the walls, and the door with her talismans. Unable to read the kanji, he knew that was potency behind those hidden words. He felt a shiver down his spine. Seeing the eye of the woman he called a shaman, this predicament could be serious.

A few minutes later, LIncoln's grandmother returned to his room with some items in her hand. On one hand, it was a bucket. In another hand, he was a bag of treats. Silently, she placed a bag of treats on his bed. With the bucket, she placed in the corner of his room.

She whispered to the elderly shaman before bowing before Lincoln and blowing a kiss before departing the room. Lincoln raised his eyebrow at the bucket before him.

"I can see the treats, but what about the bucket?"

Aiko had a slight grin, but quickly dissipated without letting Lincoln know. "This would be your toilet facilities for the evening." Aiko walked to the bed where his grandmother left a bag. "Your grandmother was kind to leave some treats." She reached in the bag. "Also, some toilet paper and air freshener."

"My grandmother was always a quirky woman," replied Lincoln.

"You have good grandparents to be concerned for you," replied Aiko. "They don't want you to get caught up in this mess. I just hope to God that what you saw wasn't true. But alas, we need you to be safe." She sat next to Lincoln while rubbing her tiring ankles. "Tonight, you will be staying in this bedroom. You are not to leave this room under any circumstances. No matter what you hear, do not leave this room until the sun rise."

"What happens if I do," questioned Lincoln.

Aiko sighed. "Let's not talk about if you do. Let's follow directions so we won't have to have that tet-o-tet in the future."

"Look," interjected Lincoln as his voice was being raised. "I am just curious. I mean, for all I know, this could be a trick. My grandfather plays game like this. To scare me and stuff."

Aiko furrowed her eyebrows. "Your grandfather wouldn't play with death. In fact, he had seen it before. In the days back in Japan."

"Really?"

"This Hachisakusama, or Eight Foot Woman is a force. She hypnotises you until she has full control. A succubus, she drains you until you are fully engulfed inside of her." Lincoln felt the warmth, but chilling hand around his neck. "The biggest thing I don't want you to do is to look at her. Once she has your eyes, then there is no going back, Lincoln. Please understand, dear. Don't look at her eyes. No matter how alluring is her voice, no matter how forceful she is, don't look at her eyes." She stood up and faced Lincoln. "That is talking worst case scenario."

The sun was at its final act of the day when Aiko, Hideo, and his grandparents appeared at his doorstep. Lincoln swallowed the lump in his throat as he saw the four holding onto rosary beads. His grandmother couldn't look at Lincoln in the eye, staring at the floor as tears trembled down her flushed, sunken cheeks. His grandfather stood firm, knowing the position of his grandson, but wouldn't let down on the task. Aiko and Hideo mumbled a few words in Japanese, but hearing the repetitions, Lincoln knew they were chants.

Aiko spoke. "Listen carefully on what I am telling you. You must stay in your room until sunrise. Please, child, do not leave this room under any circumstances until the sun rises. When you see the clock strike seven, step out of the room on your own. No one will call for you. Once you step out of the room, then we will make the arrangements."

"Arrangements," interjected Lincoln.

"Never you mind," replied his grandfather. "Listen to her instructions. When you see seven o'clock, leave the room. Until then, do not leave. No matter what."

"Yes, sir," said Lincoln.

Lincoln ran and hugged his grandfather. Lincoln felt the hot tears and kisses from his wailing grandmother.

"Please, God, save my grandchild," she cried.

"He is going to be fine," replied Aiko.

Lincoln walked back to his room before giving them a final look.

"Lock this door once we depart," said his grandfather. "May the Lord be on your side."

Lincoln closed the door as his bedroom turned into a fortress of the night. He sat on the floor as he reached for his comics to read. He tried reading, but he couldn't concentrate. So much was consuming his mind. Of course, he was skeptic about the creature, but the amount of fear from his grandparents concerned him. He put the down the comics and lied on his bed. He turned on the television to watch, but he couldn't concentrate. He stared at the ceiling fan hovering above him. He counted the rotations of the fan before falling asleep into the night.

Chapter Text

I think I have noticed the change as she pours creamer into her coffee. In the naked eye, it isn't as noticeable. Nothing unordinary of drinking coffee at the crack of dawn as your fellow family members prepared for school. Nothing unordinary of partaking the adult's nectar of the day. I had a fair share of coffee in my time. Never liked it; tastes like chalk. I could never get the excitement of consuming caffeinated drinks that leaves adults wired, unhappy, and complained further into the fray than anything else. Excuse me, getting off-centered.

I attend back to the matter at hand as I watch my older sister poured her 2% creamer into the cup. That I Hate Mondays cup isn't the problem, for Mondays are the days she goes to roller derby practice. No, it isn't her pajamas. They are the usual as always. She normally drags herself from the stairs to the kitchen, scratching her underarms and going to the refrigerator to drink from the carton we all drink from. That isn't sticking out. No, something else that I am unsure my family would notice. Being the middle child of eleven has its quirks and disadvantages. Being the sole boy gives me a capability as I stick out like a sore thumb. Parents tend to the needs of the male versus the other females. With that, particularity is a must. But, no, I am getting off-centered again. Curse my multitrack mind. My teacher tells me if I could be attentive on one thing, then getting notes home to my parents wouldn't be a thing. I can't help it. I am a Loud. We have a history, but once again, back to the matter at hand.

I watch Lynn pour two teaspoons of sugar into her coffee. She stirs the cup loudly; not really alerting as the room is already loud as it is; no pun intended. Lola and Lana fighting for the remaining corner of the cereal. Luna is making a song for her beloved Sam. Lucy is pouring red dye into her milk. My father is reading the paper. Lori and Leni are upstairs, fashionably late, of course, preparing for the day. I am unsure where is Lisa or anyone else for that matter. It matters not as I see Lynn dragging her feet to the table where she puts her coffee in the center of her eye's view. She holds it with much compassion, inhaling its flavor, letting resonate in her nostrils. I can imagine the theory in psychology if a taste makes your mouth water, but now I digress.

She takes a sip, using both hands to consume her morning boost. Her pale eyes telling me the story of not to disturb or disrupt this moment as she needs it. Her sips aren't loud, but very tranquil, to be honest. She takes some more before placing it down on the table. She looks on each side before getting the paper that my father isn't using. She nods her head and reads the articles about the disestablishment of our country.

My mother enters the kitchen. She places her hands on her hips. She appears boastful as if she has accomplished a task and wants the world to know about it. She purses her lips.

"Great news, family."

Instantly, we turn to our mother. With the voice of a strong grandeur, we know something has to be up.

"Since the family has gone two weeks without a phone call or a bill being sent to us," she tells her. "The family is going on a mini-weekend."

Eyes spread wide like saucers when hearing the news. "Vacation?"

"That's right," she replies. "Since your father and I have saved since our last shenanigans, and none of you guys have to stand before a judge recently." She gives a sly look to Lana. Lana releases a nervous smile. "And I don't have to worry about another accident." She furrows her eyebrows and looks up to the ceiling of the missing elder sisters in question. "I think we deserve ourselves a little fun."

"I can use a vacay, mom. You totally rock," answers Luna in her usual British accent.

"Mom, you have no idea how much of break I need," answers Lola. She displays her hands. "Can you see the stress line on my face?"

I respond. "Yeah, mom. A little break to...to…" I look at her. "Where are we going anyway?"

My mother spread her smile widely to the point where she can't keep herself from laughing. "One of our favorite spots of all time."

"Lake Michigan," I cry.

She nods her head in approval. The gang runs from the table and surrounds me.

"Lake Michigan," questions Luna. "Are you freaking serious?"

"Correct," replies my mother. "Lake Michigan. Four days of fun in the sun."

"Four days," screams Lola. "Wait a minute? We don't have a day off anytime soon."

My father comes from around us and reaches his arm around my mother. "I didn't want to spoil, but I wanted to kinda play hooky today." He winks at us.

An astounding roar erupts from the kitchen. The excitement is overwhelming. My father puts up his hand to entice silence. "Your mother and I have decided you kids are going to miss school today and tomorrow so we can spend the weekend out in Lake Michigan."

My sisters run to hug my parents before running upstairs. Our parents tells us that we are leaving for this afternoon. My parents left to pack up themselves. I am left with excitement that the weekend is being spent in Lake Michigan. As I return back to the table where I have left my cereal, I still see Lynn sitting at the table. She sits idly as she consumes her coffee. Both hands on the mug and nothing further. It is as if she didn't hear any of the excitement that was mentioned earlier.

I nudge her, poking her shoulder to get her attention. "Hey, Lynn, can you hear me? Did you hear about what we are planning to do?"

There is no response. She continues drinking her coffee. However, I notice as she pulls down the cup is the empty. "Hey, sis. You know the cup is empty right. If you want me to, I can fill you a new cup." As I reach my hand to the cup, she slaps it fiercely, leaving a slight pain on my palm.

She turns her face towards me, expressing her frustration as she narrows her eyebrows. Her hands are wrapped tightly into a fist. Through the midst of her pale eyes, I see something that is very peculiar. Before I can realize it, she steps away from the table. She leaves behind the coffee mug and makes her way to the counter. She goes into the cabinet and reaches for another coffee cup. She pours her coffee, her creamer, and her sugar and returns to the seat.

She puts the cup to her coffee to her face, inhales its scent, and drinks. She consumes the cup until it is no more. She puts it down and goes for another cup. She does this for another four, five attempts. Becoming a bit fearful and concerned, I leave the kitchen.

From what Lucy tells me when I returned from the bathroom, Lynn has consumed over eight cups of coffee.

A few factor bedevils me as I make these observations about Lynn. Lynn is a tough-as-nails kind of girl. The girl who isn't afraid of challenges. She can overcome any obstacle and is highly protective of anything about her or her family. However, I am unsure if anybody notices it. I ask my mother about the concern of Lynn, but she explains that Lynn is going through some things.

Are those things include that Lynn's eyes are turning yellow? Are those things include Lynn's hair is a different shade of color? Let's not forget that Lynn is drinking coffee and with creamer of all things.

Lynn is lactose intolerant.

I go into the kitchen to make a few sandwiches for the road. And once more Lynn is still there drinking her coffee as if the world didn't exist outside of hers.

One thing is for certain, something is wrong with Lynn.

Or, is that Lynn?

Chapter Text

This is the ill attempts of a crossover. Or also known as the misadventures of Lincoln and Sailor Mercury.

It was through the nudging of the bus driver that awoken Amy from her slumber. She moaned harshly, hitting the hand of the person who disturb her light slumber, the first time she was received consistent sleep in the last couple of days. The bus driver looked over the petite teenager, releasing the musk of his day's work into her nose. She opened her eyes, wiping its sleepiness followed by wiping the saliva with her sleeve. She was careful, as the slightest brush could hit the cut on her cheek. She stared into the eyes of the bus driver, giving him a look, as if why would he do such a thing? She scanned her surroundings, noticing that she was the only passenger on the bus. She quickly turned to the window, where realizing she was at the bus depot.

Without saying another word, she bowed before the bus driver and excused herself from the seat. She picked up her backpack and made her exit from the bus. The warmth of the bus terminal contrasted the coolness from the bus. She felt her pores opening, awakening her senses and to be on alert. She was grateful that she packed light. Only the essentials, she concluded as she made her way from the terminal and onto the neighboring streets.

She hoped that the money she saved from tutoring and her allowance could sustain her for a few days until she could make living arrangements. As she scanned on the internet for a hostel, she found a 24 hour manga cafe that can accommodate her with showers and continental breakfast. Although she knew of its poor quality of its ratings, but it was in her price range. She also called a taser in case of anyone coming to attack her. Of course, she had her secret identity of Sailor Mercury to defend herself from danger, but that was if the moment was desperate.

She walked to a trash can and pulled out her cell phone. She opened it and pulled out the SD card. She didn't want anyone to know of her whereabouts, and that meant her friends. Despite their long-lasting sisterhood, her departure was a means of losing all access to everyone; and that meant separating herself from her friends. She swallowed nothing as she through the SD card in the trash can. She walked a few feet to another trash can. She broke the screen with her foot and discarded that in the trash. With her new phone in her backpack, she knew that was one less thing to worry about.

Since entering high school, Ami Mizuno, or anglicized as Amy felt like she was floating in the motions. Since being accepted into a prestigious, elite high school, things have been falling out of place. No longer could she see her friends because of the hectic work schedule her parents as well as her teachers had placed on her. The only time she could spend with the other Sailor Scouts was when they were on missions. Even through those missions, she felt depleted. Even the joys of being an superheroine was succumbing to her as well.

She was tired of being a shadow.

Amy was fortunate that there was a park nearby from the bus terminal. The reservation for the manga cafe wasn't for another few hours, leaving her with time to kill. She wasn't complain, the blue-haired nerd was grateful of the alone time and the nothingness of space within her brain. She was able to breathe, she thought to herself as she made her to the slide. She sat at the foot of it and scanned the area. No one was around. It didn't surprise the sailor scout as she knew that many of the children were still in school.

She was supposed to be in school. She kind of felt like a villain, she thought to herself as she reached into her backpack and pulled out her composition notebook. What should have been a notebook for her studying has been a documentation of her life; or in other words, a journal. She lightly touched the wound on her cut; still fresh like the feelings she got from the person who had given it to her. She shook her head in disappointment. She took another sharp breath as she tore a piece of paper from the notebook. She made it into a paper airplane. She looked onto the morning sun and threw it into parts unknown. Of course, she knew it would land eventually at some point, but honestly she didn't care.

With her sixteenth birthday approaching, she was growing tired of being the honor student. She was growing tired of being a shadow under everyone's expectations.

The word itself was like water, absorbing into her sponge-like mind. Along with being a studious scholar, a member of every academic club in her school, and scoring top marks, placing her at the top of her class, she has been used to be under a shadow.

She was like an ant, observed through the eyes of the magnifying glass. A shadow casted upon her before the end hits her exact center.

A center.

She questioned in the fifteen years of her existence of where was her center. Was it hidden in the abundance of textbooks she became accustomed to carrying to and from class? Was it hidden in the amount of notes she written in the warm, dusty confines of her classroom? Was it hidden through the painstaking hours of studying for exams and working on homework to assure her future in a top national school? From the high expectations of her parents? Her teachers? Her tutor? Her friends?

Where was her center?

She stretched her arms wide like a bird does where they began to take flight. Many times she prayed to God for the spirit of flight. Transition to transcend into a being to go wherever they desired. No laws to challenge them on their destination. The ability to make decision on whatever route they chose. Even if they go against the wind, the factor that they can combat made it amazing, she thought.

Many, many nights she prayed. Many nights she asked for flight. Many nights she asked for escape. From the stress of school, from the pressure of her teachers, from her parents, and overall, herself. Amy knew at some point she couldn't stay in the same place. Her friends were going to worry. She was grateful that she had a few hours of borrowed time before leaving to the next town. She was wise to not stay at the same place for too long. The biggest thing she didn't want to happen was to return home to her parents. Back in the treacherous hands of her mother and especially through the rough, callous hands of her father.

Amy, it is important that you attend school so you can become a hard worker. Don't you want to make the Mizuno name great?

Why did you grades drop a few points? Aren't we pushing you hard enough?

Do we have to cut time from your friends if you don't study harder?

Ms. Mizuno, I expect the best out of you. This B doesn't show growth. Are you a B student?

Amy, sweetheart, your father is only being harsh because we expect more from you.

No daughter of mine is going to be a damn failure. We didn't spend this much money for you to fail. Do you want to end up like that dumb Serena girl? Do you need to break away from them? If they are putting you down, then I will forbid you from seeing them.

Not surprised about that Mizuno girl scoring great. Is that all she does is study? No wonder she has issues.

That girl broke the curve again. I am sick of this bitch thinking she is better than us with these grades.

What makes you think you are great, Mizuno. We ought to kick your ass for embarrassing us.

High school wasn't easy for Amy. She had become a victim of hazing. The students wrote expletives on her desk; her locker was vandalized; anonymous hate mail; and constant verbal and physical attacks from her classmates. She had reported it to the principal and they turned a blind eye. She told her parents, but believed that if she wanted to survive, then she must work harder and ignore the anguish of school. Her father, stern and surly, often reminded Amy with this piece of advice: if you weak, then you are beat. It is a tough world and if you can't handle those things, then why survive?

It was her father that was the final straw for the Sailor Scout. Her father was never the caring type. His word was law in the Mizuno household and expectations were upheld. An aide to the mayor, his reputation and dedication made him dutiful and worthy of himself. Therefore, he expected his wife and his daughter to the same; with the latter facing more of the pressure.

Despite his pressure, her mother called it the love of a father for a child. Then what happened that evening when she received the cut on her face, she thought to herself.

It was a few evenings ago. She was returning home for the evening where she was greeted with a teeth-rattling slap from her father. Without a second, she defend herself as she was wailing for her father to stop hitting her. She cried for her mother, she cried for her friends, anyone that could save her. None of that happened. When he was finished, he returned to the kitchen where he continued drinking his bourbon. All the while, her mother was washing the dishes, or the same dish as she covered her eyes from witnessing her helpless daughter begging for help.

That night, when her parents went to sleep, she packed what she needed and made the escape. Blinded with the tears and clothed in the purple marks from her father, she departed into the night.

She put those thoughts aside and dusted herself off as she stood up. She wandered the area. As she was looking for a swing to sit, she saw another person occupying the area. He was swinging loudly as if they wasn't any care in the world. At some point, he would stop, and suddenly he would hop off and play again. For a moment, it distracted Amy, leaving her with a pleasant smile.

The boy looked American, she thought. He was wearing an orange shirt and jeans. What stood out to Amy was the whiteness of his air. It reminded her of a skunk, she thought to herself. She wasn't surprised of the foreigners who come to visit or live in her town. She embraced all kinds of diversity, but she found it strange to see him playing by himself. Judging from his excitement, it mattered not to him.

At least I can tell he doesn't have a care in the world.

She took a breath as she made her way to the swings. The white-haired child continue playing on it. Amy took a seat at the end of the swing. The moment she sat, the white-haired looked. He blushed and quickly turned around Amy. Amy noticed his quickness of his aversion. She concluded that either he was shy of seeing people or shy of being around a girl.

Amy wasn't the one to show off her looks. She was very humble about her appearance. Her beauty has been dubbed as mysterious; because it takes a special kind of person to fathom it. She continued to stare at the child until she was able to break the silence.

"My name is Amy." She spoke to him in English. She was cautious. She didn't want to do anything to make the child leave. Judging by his appearance, he didn't look too far from her, maybe four or five years younger, she thought. She watched as the boy turned and received her smile. He extended his hand to shake it with Amy.

"My name is Lincoln," replied the white-haired child.

"Nice to meet you, Lincoln," answered Amy.

"Thanks," he blushed.

"What brings a child like you playing by yourself," questioned Amy while holding on to the swings.

"On family vacation," answered Lincoln. "My parents are shopping and my sisters are God-knows-where. I told them I wanted to stay close to the hotel." He pointed to the building a few yards away from the park. "That is where we are staying. Anyway, I told them I would play in the park until they come back."

"Interesting," she said. "Are you the loner type?"

"Not really," he said. "Just wanted some time to myself. It can be tough living in a household of ten sisters."

"Ten sisters?"

He nodded his head. "That's right." He turned to her. "How about you? What brings you out here today?"

"Just cruising around," replied Amy. Amy, for a moment, that she was running away from home. She sighed as she trying to keep her composure. "I do that sometimes because I like exploring things."

"Exploring? Me too, Amy," said Lincoln. "That is why I am glad that I am able to visit Japan."

"Say, Lincoln. I know we just met, but I saw an ice cream store around the way. Do you care to stop by and keep me company?"

Lincoln was taken aback, but he kept calm. "I am unsure if I can go with you. I promised my parents that I will keep close."

"You can trust me, Lincoln," replied Amy. "It is around the way. Not too far from the hotel. How about this?" Amy pulled out her school ID. "You can take a picture of it and send it to your parents. I promise I am not the type to lurk. I won't kidnap you or anything. I just want some ice cream with you."

Lincoln took the school ID from Amy. She watched him take a picture before returning it to her.

"Ok, I hope I can trust you," he responded. "Shall we go?"

"Great," she smiled. She reached for her backpack and led Lincoln to the ice cream shop.

As the pair were leaving the park, she furrowed her face. A glimpse of her father entered her mind.

You can't amount to shit if you pick your grades up.

I told you I want the best. Is this your best, Amy?

You better not embarrass me with that horrid performance again, Amy.

She shook those thoughts. She took Lincoln by the hand and were making their way to the ice cream shop.

This concludes the ill attempts of a crossover. To be continued in the next chapter.

Chapter Text

I can still feel the rough jagged edges of the cedar tree in my backyard. It pressed against my back, creating an indenture with it. I can feel it touching the back of my neck, the jagged edge, the scent, everything. I can still feel her lips as the cedar tree was used as a prop for her to come and kiss me. The kiss lasted only moments. But, I can't quite describe the length as for it was in a place where there was no space or time. Our saliva bridged us, but she came and pressed forward again. It was longer. She wrapped her arms around me. The smell of her lavender body lotion made contact with my nose. It overtook me, as I was already being overwhelmed by the consummation of her affection. The cool, crisp autumn air combined with her hot kisses was enough to moan her name in the midst of this whirlwind of passion.

Juri

Julie Hachiya is her given name, but we all have known her as Juri or Jules, for short. A product of Japanese and African American parents, Juri has always been a fascination of my life since her move to the United States from her native Japan. Her mother and my father are siblings, only to reconnect recently after many, many years of separation for personal reasons my father has yet to discuss. Nevertheless, I welcomed my aunt with open arms. My cousin returned the same way. Since as far back as I can remember, I have always been smitten with Juri.

Juri has never left my side. Despite living forty minutes of each other, we can still be out of reach. Being a high school student and a gifted artist can bring quite difficult times with task management. But when opportunity arises, she takes advantage and spends time with me. Juri has no shame of taking me wherever place she desires, or I desire. Be as if I were going to an anime convention or just taking a trip to the gas station, I wanted her within reach. I know she feels the same way about me. She is a precious gem that should never be tarnished. Something I should never take for granted. Because this love is forbidden, we try our hardest to keep it a secret. Even a secret I keep from my best friend, Lincoln.

Juri wants alone time with me. I sit in the living room watching television. Actually, the television is watching me. My thoughts are gathered on the ideas, pursuits I want to do with Juri. Recently, Juri has been working hard on her work from Deviantart. She is passionate about her works and dreams of being a mangaka. She tells me through the many phone calls of her desires of returning to Japan and working as a mangaka. She wants to live the dream of working with others on her work and use the funds to travel and enjoy life. What makes it interesting and worthwhile because I, too, am within her plans. She tells me everything about the life she plan to spend with me. She even wants me to save money so we can make the move to Japan together. Since I have a few years before graduating high school, I have planned on making those arrangements together. However, that is a discussion I will explain another time. Right now, I will get back to the matter at hand, waiting on Juri.

I receive a text. I get my phone and I see that is from Juri. She tells me that she is outside in the driveway. I quickly turn off my television and ran to the front door. Normally, I hear the loud bass of her BMW banging EDM music, but instead it is silence. I open the door to the smell of her lavender body lotion and close the door. Without a chance to speak a consonant, she welcomes me with her lips. I close my eyes and allow her tongue to make her stay within my mouth. We wrap our arms around each other, just like the day of my first kiss in front of the cedar tree. Heavy breathing comes within us as neither of us want to break the kiss. After about a minute of kissing, we break it, with the saliva bridging us.

Her kiss tasted of pocky. She knows me well as she gives me a stick from the glove box.

"Thanks," I say to her as I put it in my mouth. It is cotton candy flavored, which is one of my favorites. She gets another stick and puts it in her mouth.

"What do you want to do today," she asks me as she backs from the driveway and into the street. I put my finger to my lip. Where I want to go is wherever you want to go. For as I am with you, then I am okay.

"Let's go to the boardwalk," I answer her. "Gives us plenty of options and plus, there is a comic book store out there to check out."

"Awesomeness choice, cuzzo," she tells me with such giddiness. "There are some material I want to get for my latest comic. Plus, I know there is a fabric store out there so I can get some stuff for the upcoming comic book convention. Also, I want to…"

Hearing her voice is like edible chocolate. Savoring every taste. I enjoy it. I crave it. Just being basked in this moment is enough for me. She explains more of what she wants to do as we got onto the highway.

We make it to the boardwalk by a quarter to three in the afternoon. I get out of the car and open the door for Juri. She quickly grabs my hand and intertwines with it. Her moisten, soft hands isn't making my arousing penis any easier. I keep my mind focus on the fact that I am with Juri and savoring every moment I have to share with her. I am just grateful that not many people are aware of the relationship.

I wouldn't know what to do if we were to get caught.

We go to the comic book store where she purchases her inspiration. Currently, The World God Only Knows, Sailor Moon, and Revolutionary Girl Utena has been her drug of choice. She tells me repeatedly of her character that displays femininity with masculine traits. Unlike those comics, she doesn't want to display any elements of romances. Instead, she wants to make a character who is a tough force. A woman of strong caliber and great strength. A woman like her. She gives me some money to buy a comic of my own. I initially declined, but doesn't take no for answer. I got a copy of Tsurezuru Children since I have taken interest in the anime.

Afterwards, we go to the ice cream parlor and share a root beer float. She does more of the eating than I do. I watch her take quick bites as she is a quick eater. I close my eyes to bask in this moment because I am unsure the next time I am able to see her.

What I haven't talked about to Juri or I don't think she even knows, but my aunt has been talking to my father about leaving Michigan for another job. She has been uncertain of the job market these days and my uncle is on his last straw before making other plans. She has talked about returning to Japan. She has even discussed of moving to Toronto for work. She told my father that she will make a decision in a few days. I grip my spoon tightly as she nudges me to take a bite.

Amazing how the float tastes after a person convince you. Amazing that love can come from any form. Especially if that love is forbidden.

We go shopping where she buys a few outfits. Not the perfect impresario, but she is happy to have my attention. Of course, I blush when she displays her bikinis.

"We should go to the beach," she says excitedly.

"We should," I answer. "When the weather gets warmer, we should go."

"It's a date," she shrieks before returning inside of the fitting room. "No peeking," she winks.

"Even if I could, I wouldn't be able to because of security," I respond.

"Hasn't stopped me yet," she purrs.

A few hours have passed and it near seven in the evening when we make it back to the parking lot. Like a gentleman, I open the door for Juri. She repays me with a kiss to the cheek. She opens my door and I get inside of the car. She gives another loving kiss. I close my eyes as I take more of it. It feels like a bolt of electricity every time I kiss her. She always tastes sweet, I think to myself.

When I try to break away, she continues. She presses her hands tightly on my face. After a few more minutes, she breaks the kiss.

"Let's go somewhere," she tells me.

"I am fine," I say to her. "Where do you to go."

"Somewhere alone," she tells me.

I give her a smirk, but her face changes.

"I have booked a room at a hotel tonight," she tells me while rubbing my hand. "Do you care to go?"

I grab her hand, wrapping it tightly around mine. "I care. Let's go!"

Chapter Text

This is a random moment with a married couple….

This chapter is written by the author and co-written by his girlfriend. The management would like to appreciate the strong inspiration of the author's girlfriend on this particular chapter. According to the author, the idea came to her after attending a private party following a football game. They have seen things in which inspired them to make this chapter.

At some point, the author will resume the plot. Until then, enjoy this filler and now onto the story….

She wanted to set the perfect mood for this evening. She went into the basement to retrieve the box of her scented candles. These seldomly used candles were only on special occasions; and the last time she used those candles were during she and her wife's wedding anniversary. Miki returned to the kitchen where she lit the candles. The scented of pumpkin entered in the atmosphere as if the fall harvest was occurring. Although there weren't a carnival or any other festivities, but tonight was indeed a special night for the brunette. She untied her apron, exposing her nakedness. She hang the apron around the kitchen counter where she began humming a tune. A familiar tune she played for Haruka the night when they met at the opera.

She went into the kitchen drawer where she got the remote for the kitchen radio. She turned it on to some smooth jazz and set the volume low. She dimmed the lights. Everything was going to be perfect, she thought as she clapped her hands. It wasn't just for her sense of accomplishment, but a signal for her beloved.

Haruka stepped from the bedroom where she was wearing a bathrobe. She sighed as if she was recovering from a workout. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with a towel as she made her way into the kitchen. She let out a slight smirk, blowing a kiss to Miki as she, too, reciprocated her affection.

Haruka inhaled the scent of their love. She also loved the scent of the dinner her wife made. Miki was a woman of many hats: an anchorwoman, a reporter, a community service volunteer, a homemaker, a mother, a wife, and most of all, her best friend. Haruka adored and admired the woman of the many years they have been together. Often, she felt that she didn't deserve such a beauty. Granted, they weren't perfect. There were faults into the marriage, but they were miniscule compared to her undying light for Miki.

It didn't take long for Haruka to discover that her wife was back into her old tricks. It wasn't the first time Haruka knew of Miki's obsession.

Miki poured a glass of Wild Turkey into a glass. She presented to glass to Haruka in a bowing position. She took the glass and finished it in a couple of gulps. She sighed loudly, returning the cup back to Miki.

"The water of the gods, I swear." Haruka beat her chest, kissing her wife on the forehead before taking a seat at the dinner table.

"I do my best for my beloved," replied Miki with a smile. She poured another glass and put it on the table beside her. "I hope everything is to your liking, dear."

Haruka smirked, taking a sip of her second glass. "All is well, my love. You never cease to amazing. Your beauty, your charm amazes me even as the day we met those many years ago."

"God, we were such children. Children in love. Children that desired the heart of one another," said Miki as she put her hand on her tender cheek. "You were the mysterious phantom in my opera. Instead of playing to entertain, you were playing a lovely tune with my heartstrings."

"Such a lovely tune you have, my dear," cried Haruka. "If I could go back to the very moment, the time where we met, I would. I would, I would, I would."

"I know, dear. Tell me something," said Miki as her tone became serious. "Are you okay about us and what I am doing?"

Haruka extended her hand, caressing Miki's cheek, cupping them and giving her the devilish smile that intrigued and melted Miki's heart. "Whatever makes my princess happy, I am all for it. Of course, it wasn't easy. I mean, seeing another person, especially a man, touching my princess. It feels as if someone is dismantling the design, the schematics I purposefully design for our being."

"Don't ever think that, dear. You will always, I mean, always will be mine," cried Miki. Miki went on her knees where Haruka received her. She lied on Haruka's lap, looking into the pleading eyes. Haruka knew she wanted to cry, but rubbed her hair, cooing her.

"No one wants to see my princess cry," said Haruka quietly. "I know it is something you can't helped. I remember the day where I caught you in the hands of my little cousin. He was a curious kid, a child that admired his big cousin."

"He was such fallible. I couldn't help it, dear," said Miki. "It still doesn't compared to the love I have for you. Nothing can compare it, believe it, please…."

"Hush," replied Haruka. "I understand. I understand the many times I seen you with those boys. They were playthings. When you were finished, I was always there with support." Haruka looked away. "But there is something about Lincoln you can't let go, can you?"

Miki looked up to Haruka.

"I noticed the change the moment he came into your life, Miki," said Haruka. "The same glow you give him is the same way you give me. I can tell about the boys who were toys and there is LIncoln."

"Haruka."

"Can I ask you a serious question?" Haruka lowered herself to kiss Miki on her cheek. "Promise, I won't get mad. But, what are your feelings for Lincoln?" Haruka took another drink before putting it down. "I have never been with a boy before. I have never been interested in him. I can never understand why such fascination with the opposite sex that a woman and with a dildo can provide instead."

Miki looked again to Haruka before returning back on her lap. "The moment I met Lincoln was the moment my feelings for him began. It was a spark, an aura. Something about him that bedeviled me, charmed me. It was his innocence, his heart. I craved it and wanted a piece of him." She took a breath. "I couldn't let him go, dear. What should have been an one night thing turned into many, many more. I even thought playing too rough with him will cause him to run away or make me snap out of it. Honestly, Haruka, I love him. This boy is precious to me. What was lust is turning into something more."

"You mean love?"

Miki shook her head in confirmation.

"I understand. And frankly, I am not upset," said Haruka. "However, I envy him. I say that because he fills the void whenever I can't serve you. I know I am a busy woman and don't have as much time taking care of you like a wife should." She took a sharp breath while rubbing her wife. "I shouldn't be surprised of your limits being a tested. What made me happy was that you confessed to me this time without catching you in the act. I often feel stupid."

"Please, baby, don't think that way."

"Miki, you are my one and true soulmate. You are my first serious relationship. I have dated many women, but none couldn't fathom the strength of the love you have for me. You keep me soaring. I love when you call me, text me, blowing me kisses, inspire me, ease me of my troubles. Just everything. How your children accepted me as their other mother, or their real father. I just don't want nothing to take my place." She took another sip of her wild turkey. "If Lincoln is going to be part of your life, then I am okay. Just make room for me as well."

"But how do you feel about him?"

"How do I feel?"

"When you had time to yourself with him?"

Haruka put her finger to her lip. "I know he is a sweet boy. There is no fault in him. I know it is not his fault. I do envy him. He is a cute boy. However, Miki, I am a lesbian. I am not into boys. However, when I tasted him, he gave such a powerful aura, such a scent that it made me look at him as the exception. He easily accepted me and I received him. He didn't put up a fight. He just wanted me to be gentle with him."

Miki's face brightened when hearing the news. "Were you able to have sex with him?"

"We didn't. We just spend time kissing and cuddling. As I never had an interaction with a boy, I was exploring him."

"Did you like it?"

"I admit, it was different. Nevertheless, I don't mind engaging him again."

Miki put her head around Haruka's stomach. "Does that mean you are fine with him?"

Haruka smiled. "Yes, I am fine with Lincoln being with us. On one condition."

"Anything."

"Just don't forget about your wife."

Miki stood up and sat on Haruka's lap. "You are never forgotten. You are always the girl that swept me off my feet." Haruka took Miki's chin and pulled her to her lips. The couple shared a kiss made Miki moaned. Haruka grabbed Miki's breast, cupping it affectionately. She used her fingernails to use slight scraps.

"Haruka," moaned Miki.

"Shh," replied Haruka as she returned her lips to Miki. Haruka's tongue did a dance with Miki as Miki's tongue returned a favor. They continued to kiss until they broke it, leaving a bridge of saliva between the pair.

"I love you, Haruka."

"I love you, too, princess."

"So, are you ready for dinner?"

Haruka let out a smile. "I am. Are you ready for dinner, Lincoln?"

Miki and Haruka dimmed their eyes at the dinner table where the couple finished having their discussion over Lincoln. Lincoln was lying naked on the dinner table with the dinner that Miki prepared for them.

"A nyotaimori," said Haruka. "You never cease to amaze me with the creativity of your brain."

"It came to me when you and I were taking advantage of our son," replied Miki while she was clapping her hands. "I wanted tonight for us to savor every moment of our beloved." She scanned Lincoln's body while he was fidgeting, keeping his eyes closed. His face was blushed; his hands and his feet were tied and bounded to the table.

"Shall we start with the appetizer," asked Haruka while she was licking her lips.

"Sure," replied Miki as they walked to Lincoln's chest.

His chest was covered in sliced watermelon and sliced cantaloupe. His nipples were covering in vanilla frosting as it served as a dipping sauce. Miki's eyes glared at the sight. As they continued forward, the remainder of his body was covered in sushi. Where his groin was located was surrounded with assorted fruits and vegetables.

"You have made such a spread, dear," said Haruka. "A feast indeed."

Miki smiled as she began taking a piece of the watermelon and put it in her mouth. She held it and pressed forward to Haruka where she took the other half and they embraced in a kiss. Afterwards, Haruka leaned forward and took a bite of the watermelon from Lincoln's chest. After ingesting, she took another bite, but rubbed it against his nipple for the vanilla icing. Miki used her tongue to suck on the vanilla icing on his other nipple, which made Lincoln sightly moan at her touch.

Haruka decided to take another taste of watermelon and dipped it in the icing, but rubbing it fervently, making Lincoln blush on contact. After taking the bite, she returned to his chest where she cleaned the rest of the icing. As the result, his dick became erect.

"Aww, Linky," pouted Miki. "You are messing with the centerpiece." She put her hands on her hip. "You are supposed to be our guest of honor." She sighed. "It can't be helped. I know you want a taste yourself." Next to his leg, Miki spotted a banana. She grinned as she peeled it, putting the fruit to the side and using the peel to place it on his dick.

"What are you doing, Miki," asked Haruka as she continued licking on Lincoln's nipples.

"We are out of icing. Plus, I think Lincoln is hungry," answered Miki as she wrapped the banana peel around Lincoln's dick. "We are going to have so much fun with you."

Oh God, help me!

This concludes a random moment with a married couple.

Chapter Text

My boss tells me to finalize the backdrop for this page before submitting for print. She has been bearing down my ass for the last several weeks to make this name before our due date. I scan and observe the page before using my ink to cover what is necessary before submitting. She stands before me. I can feel her breath hovering over me. Reminds me of the outdoor heating vents on restaurant patios during cooler seasons. I am grateful that her fragrance compensates for it. The smell of honeydew lingers around my nostrils, enticing me with lecherous thoughts. I try my hardest to negate this thoughts. It isn't everyday that a twenty-something like me can land a job to draw original-English language manga in my hometown. It is rarity and damn it, I must resist her devilish charms. But that goes to saying with the thoughts occurring in my mind.

Oh, I should mention that I go by the name of Lincoln Loud. I am an aspiring comic book artist, but for now, I am working on creating backdrops and backgrounds and making sure that the boss doesn't make any errors. On my spare, I go and fetch coffee and supplies for other crew members. My position says supportive artist, but the words gofer and slave sounds much better in my resume. But now I digress.

I blow the dust from the ink and give it the finishing touches. I use the sheet protector to put the material inside and seal it with an envelope. I turn to the sights of my boss and cross my legs as my signal of my completion.

"Ok, boss lady, the background is done. My moments of this union allocated work is over," I tell her before looking at my watch. A habit, if you will, to alert myself and others that I no longer want to be here but places that excite me and reminds me that there is more to life.

She displays a smirk, showing her rosy shade of her lipstick. Her teeth are perfect. My compliments to the dentist who took out the time for her pearly white. God bless the person who has dealt with the tears and shreds from the lovely Barracuda.

"If you were as crafty in your work than in your wordplay, then you wouldn't be here. Wouldn't you?" A sting she gives me. The deep voice of femininity standing before me, God, and all of her glory. Standing at five foot seven inches, the charming brunette gives any man or woman a run for their money. Her skin was porcelain and smooth to the touch; or for the moments I have brushed past her to the bathroom or getting lunch for the others. She leans against the desk, showing her belly button chain as it dangles. Her Levi jeans are pressed and tight, displaying a small hint of her white panties. Her Boys Suck t-shirt doesn't add insult but creates a fire of tension between us. The location of the fire? Don't ask.

The Barracuda, I mean my boss, takes the envelope and puts in her briefcase. She quickly snaps it before wrapping around her shoulder. She crosses her arms. I know she isn't finished with me yet. She never is.

"If you are able to get stuff done on time like I tell you, then this wouldn't be a discussion," she tells me while pursing her lips. "As long as you have worked for me, we have the bottom line. Work is to be submitted each Friday at all time. There should be no reason of this." She examines me. "Unless you are still making time to tame your cats."

I shrug my shoulders. "By any means, what happens in my home life is my home life. And I don't recall you being apart of that, Barracuda."

She taps her nails, a habit she gets when I know I got on her bad side. "Just because you are talented doesn't mean I can't fire your ass. Your ass is easy to let go than anything else in this place."

"Easy, easy," I tell her. "I am quite delicate with my ass. It needs sweet tender, love, and care, boss. If you want, I can demonstrate some examples if you are interested."

She blows her hair into her bangs. "I think I will pass, Lincoln." She turns around and makes her way to the foot of the door. "Under no circumstances I should be here after six in the evening on a Friday night. There are things that must be tended. Don't have this happen again. Are my orders clear?"

I crack my knuckles. "Clear as crystal. Clear as a bright, summer's day, boss." I turn off my computer and get my briefcase before following her from the building. She waits for me as always. I get the keys and lock the door. I turn on the security codes before leaving the building. Once the building is secured, I help her to her car.

The cool, autumn air welcomes us, giving us a shiver. I have lecherous thoughts as I envy the shirt that has contact with her supple breast. She slaps me behind my head.

"Get whatever thought you have of me in your mind, you fucking abortion," she tells me firmly and sternly.

"Barracuda, you are mistaken. I was thinking how the weather brings out the best of your eyes. Very fetching," I say.

"Ha!" She scoffs as she unlocks her Mercedes. "Your work is brilliant, I may admit. But your mind is faulty and needs a reset."

I extend my hand. "I wouldn't mind if you come to help me, tech support."

"God bless the mother who raised you," she tells me as she goes inside of her car. I was getting ready to return to mine before she puts down the window. "Lincoln, come here."

I walk to her window and kneel. "Yeah, what's up?"

"We have a new account coming to us on Monday and I am going to need you to come earlier than usual." She licks her lips. "Can eight o'clock be okay?"

"Sure, but of course I have to clear my schedule and to alert my guest of their early departures."

"I think your guest can handle leaving a couple of hours early. But seriously, it is important. Can I put my faith in you that you will be here on time?"

I put out my pinky finger. "On the honor of the House of Loud, I solemnly swear."

She shakes her head as she makes the pinky swear with me. "Enjoy your weekend." She puts up her window and heads out of the driveway.

As I make my way to my vehicle, I hear her make a final comment. "I hope you get blue balls, Loud!"

"If this your way of wanting to sleep with me, my balls thank you."

"In your fucking dreams, Loud!"

She makes a stop at the corner before turning away from sight. I shake my head and make my way to my vehicle. It is far from the Barracuda's Mercedes. I am stunting in my 2005 Honda Civic. It isn't the best, but the girl gets the job done.

I fasten my seatbelt and get myself comfortable. I turn on the ignition and turn on the radio. In the mood for R&B, I tune in to The Internet. "Love Song" was the chosen as I listen to the former Odd Future veteran sing her way into the hearts of many who understand good music. I bob my head as I drive onto the street.

I look to my phone and I see plenty of messages. Some came from my siblings, my parents, a couple of my friends, and plenty from my guests. Not to beat around the bush, but the term is a nickname for the girls I have relations. I won't describe myself as a whore or a non committal man, but I am at the prime of my life in which I am not ready to settle down. I don't treat the girls any kind of way. I give them the love that they wanted, we have the relations, and the next day, I am free to give it to another girls who requires my loving.

So, I am just servicing the girls that wants some loving. Easy as that. One of my many objectives to keep Lincoln Loud going. I get onto the interstate where I get a phone call. I look and see it is from my best friend and wingman, Clyde. I answer on the third ring.

"Talk to me, Clyde," I tell him as I change lanes.

"What's up, bro," he tells. "Just checking on your ETA. Are you close?"

"Not just yet, bro. Be on the way within thirty minutes."

"The Barracuda kept you?"

"Who else on a Friday evening?"

"I think you enjoy being with her."

"Are you kidding? Your best assets is her assets!"

"That is Spanish for you love her," he says while smirking. "What's the matter? She is giving you blue balls because she won't sleep with you?"

"Fuck off, dude," I scoff. "You must have forgotten about the man who put you on. Weren't for me, your balls would have turned into either raisins or receiving ghost loads."

"Still touchy about the Barracuda. My fault, dude."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. So, who is coming to the cafe tonight?"

"The usual. You, me, Ronnie Anne, Rusty. The squad."

"Squad."

"Squad."

"Squad."

We exchange laughter for a few moments before returning back to the matter at hand. "Do you think Melissa might be there tonight or maybe Nishi?"

"Knowing with you, you can conquer both. You are lucky to have that kind of charm, dude."

"The white-haired knight can't help how girls become in awe on this magnificence!"

He laughs. "Sure, bro. Any chance you can help me score tonight?"

I give a moment to think. Let me tell you guys something about my straight-laced friend, Clyde McBride. This man is a saint among saints. A leader that should be honored in many ways than one. He is hardworking, intelligent, and very dedicated. Instead of taking the route of being an artist like myself, he decides to pursue the route of working as Public Relations for the Detroit Police Department. The strengths he has in hard work, he lacks in the department of women.

As much I can get a girl for him, it wouldn't work. Not doubting my charm or wishing misfortune, but in the game, there is a player who must take one for the team. And he happens to be that player. Honestly, with the amount of girls I have been with, it is not his nature, but what can you expect from a virgin?

Anyway, let me get back to the story. I don't want him to think I am stalling for an answer.

"Let's see what kind of bites are there and I can help you as always."

"Appreciate it. But all of us are here waiting for you. So get here as possible."

"Oi, oi, I will. Just make sure I have a drink before I get there."

"The usual?"

"Ginger ale with a lemon twist."

"Gotcha!"

I hang up the phone and tune in to the music. I put the window down and put on my Ray-Bans sunglasses. Beyond the horizon, the sun illuminates the shimmering haze of our beloved Motor City. In the far distance, the silhouette of the skyline pierces through the warm glow like a jagged mountain range. The millions of lights from the skyscrapers glitter as I am conjoined with the others on the highway. The highway serves as the main vein as we serve as the blood cells as I make my way to the main artery of the city.

The hustle and bustle of the city exchange the attire of the man and transforms into their beings of the night. There are many places a man can go on a Friday night, but I go where I am wanted. A place where no one is judged. A place where I can relax and mellow out from the hardworking week.

I drive into the parking lot where I put a few coins into the parking meter. I give it about three, four hours, give or take. It depends on what plans my friends have or what girl do I plan to take home tonight. I walk to the parking station where I give the usual attendant a few bucks to watch my vehicle for any suspicious people. I look both ways before crossing the street and making my way to the smoky jazz bar where my friends are waiting for me.

It is my little slice of life. The golden marquee shines brightly onto the pavement, welcoming people who are worthy enough to come within its confinements.

The Good Life Cafe.

My name is Lincoln Loud and this is where our story begins.

Chapter Text

This is another ill attempt of a crossover, the prequel of the misadventures of Lincoln and Mimi Tachikawa of Digimon.

They were both in bare flesh, standing at face length with each other as the crescent moon shined upon them. The open cool air made Mimi shivered. It even made Lincoln shiver, in many ways than one. She lightly touched Lincoln shoulder with her hands, which alerted the hairs from his neck. He swallowed the lump in his throat as she lingered her eyes in the direction of his chest. She slowly made her way to his pects where she glided gracefully. He shivered once more. Mimi knew how young and nubile the novice Lincoln was. Or at least that was occurring in Lincoln's mind. Never in his wildest dreams have he planned for Mimi to actually display her candid beauty in the moonlight. Of course, the white-haired child had wet dreams and used her as aid for some alone time, but it was incredible that the opportunity has set himself for him. In a way, he felt like a blushing groom in a honeymoon; ready to be touched by his bride.

Before Lincoln could utter a word, she applied her soft fingers to his lips, enticing his silence. She blew in his ear before slowly nibbling his ear. Feeling the moistness of her tongue bewildered him; like his synapses in his brain were working overtime. It is like his databanks were overfilled with this brand new information. It didn't help that his budding erection was cresting to the peak of exploding. He tried fighting it, thinking of something to not blow his load before the planned consummation.

Lincoln let out a slight moan as her delicate fingertips slightly scraped his nipples. It didn't go without notice from Mimi as she did it again. She tucked her lips in, feeling the excitement of seeing a boy in his novice state. Maybe it gave her control; something she was capable of doing without the whim of her boyfriend. The thoughts occurring in Lincoln's mind was driving him with sheer insanity. Should it really matter of the circumstances, he questioned himself while taking sharp breaths as Mimi kneaded his nipples. At each touch, his erection was protruding.

The smell of strawberry maple impacted his nostrils as her hair was covering his face. He heard her breathing as she partook in licking his nipples. She wrapped her arms tightly around him like it was the intent of not letting him go. She was the spider and he was caught in her web. A metaphor he didn't mind pursuing.

"Do you feel good?" Mimi asked with general curiosity. She drew her eyes to Lincoln; as if she needed permission to continue. Lincoln nodded his head with confirmation before her resuming to her task at hand. He rested his head on her shoulder; embedding in the almond body oil, gracefully adorning his chin and impacting his nostrils. The infusion of her scent was enough for Lincoln to relieve himself, but resilience was on his side.

She gently pushed Lincoln on top of the sheets. She spread the cover so she and him can have room and comfort. She got on top of him, giving him a kiss. She pressed her tongue into his mouth, cleaning whatever he had inside of it. Lincoln, in return, did the same. An inexperienced kisser, he took a few breaks in between this session. Meanwhile, he also was rubbing her back, caressing her and treating her like a delicate object. She moaned every time he touched the arch in her back.

"Sorry, Linc," she said in between pants. "That area is a real sensitive spot."

Lincoln let out a slight smile. Instead of stopping, he continued to rub that sensitive area. Sharp breaths came from Mimi's mouth as she began rubbing her hips with his groin. The sound of their kisses and the moistness of her body was filling the quiet, still Royal Woods night.

Whimsically, Mimi groped Lincoln's dick, which made him sigh and mumbled a few words of pleasure. Lincoln leaned forward and put her nipple into his mouth. His tongue roaming the hard, erect nipple with pimply bumps made him feel some kind of way. He was committing an act of intimacy. He was involved in a rendezvous, an affair with somebody else's woman. And not just any woman. It was Matt's woman.

He couldn't care any less.

Lincoln felt Mimi's hand in the back of his head. Lincoln was close to his peak as she pressed harder at the shaft of his penis. It didn't matter as he continue sucking, nibbling, and encircling her nipples with his tongue. Each time, she squirmed, which made him pressed harder with his dick.

"Look at me," moaned Mimi as she reached out and grabbed Lincoln's neck. He, too, was in between pants and was very shy of looking at the beautiful, pink-haired girl's eyes. She kissed him on the nose, continuing to kissing him until he directed his eyes in her direction.

"Do you know what you do to me," she said to him. "You are a very lucky boy right now." She pecked him on his chin, gripping his dick. He let out a sharp breath. She laughed devilishly, but he maintained his composure. He watched as she reached over to the nightstand where she pulled out a condom. She tore the condom from its wrapper. She gave another grin as she pulled the condom onto Lincoln's erected member.

Lincoln felt the now, familiar sensation around him. He was still in disbelief of his encounter with his sister's friend.

"It's okay," she said. "I will show you what you need to do. You have to trust me. I will make you feel good." She pouted her lips. "You do trust me, don't you?"

He nodded in agreement. "I do, Mimi. I do trust you."

"Close your eyes and allow me to take you to another world."

Lincoln followed the directions of the girl who was going to take his virginity. As he awaited, he focused on how he got himself into the position. Who would have known of walking in on her and Luna naked in the bedroom would have directed the turn of events.

"Let me make you feel good, Lincoln," said Mimi. She bit him on his ear. "Let me make you feel good."

Chapter Text

I go against my better judgement as I allow the stranger I have met only fifteen minutes ago to undo my pants in the park. Hidden in the bushes and surrounded by myrtle crape trees, there are two strangers performing a treacherous act. I say that word, treacherous, very strongly because of the declinations, or the threat if or when we get caught. With her nimble hands, she quickly unfasten my pants, dropping them to the ankle. She hovers over my ears, breathing her hot breath into my canal. I can't see her, but her body gives me a reminder that she is here.

"There is no need to be nervous, Lincoln," she tells. She presses her nose to my neck. "I want you to take off your boxers as well, dear." She takes a gust of wind into her mouth before uttering the next few words. "I want to see this porcelain beauty naked." I bite my lip the moment she grasp my butt. Tugging and digging where if it weren't for my boxers, then she would have made direct contact with my anus. She bites into my neck; licking her indentures as she pulled my boxers down to where my pants currently resides. The warm, breeze makes contact with my penis. My sweat of fear and the confinements of my penis causes it to shrink. She notices it and puts her hands around it. She begins to knead, making me cringe to the unfamiliar touch.

"Your dick softened," she says. "But that is okay, Luka is here to warm it up." She lets out a sharp breath as she continues to rub my dick. "Luka is excellent in making boys' dicks feel good. Close your eyes as I let my hands moisten you up. Imagine it to be a pussy or sorts." She giggles. "Do you like pussy?"

What kind of question is that, I want to say to her, but I am too afraid to make or utter a sound. She continues to giggle as she spits on her free hand and then applies to my dick. With her soft hands and her spit, both creating friction and lubrication to my now erect dick. "You can relax, Lincoln. I was only fooling you with that question. Children are such at an impressionable age that I couldn't help but to ask that question. I hope I didn't offend."

I remain quiet. I tell myself that this is only for the money. A temporary game until she makes me climax and I can go on my way. I hope I don't go too far with that aforementioned sentence. I close my eyes to imagine myself in the position of being with another girl. I am not saying Luka isn't the prettiest, but it feels weird to be in a position. I try thinking of Ronnie Anne. How I can take advantage of the brown, Latin beauty. Caressing her river of hair, holding her tenderly, and take her to the ground where I continue to love her. I would kiss, touch, hold any part of her body until she gives me the full permission to go all of the way.

I hear Luka chuckle for it was that thought alone that made my dick at full mast.

"I guess the hot spit and my hands are doing the trick," she boast as she rubs my shaft. She is rough at some part, stimulation areas where she knew I can climax. She lightly scrapes my phallus with her fingernails; digging into my peehole, pardon my french, making me clench my teeth.

"I can tell you never had this kind of experience before," she manages to tell me as I begin to feel her thrusting her hips from behind me. "Is this your first time having a girl touch you."

I keep quiet. She must not know how much I am beginning to enjoy this. Because I don't give her a direct answer, she pinches my dick at the shaft and biting hard around my neck.

"Answer the question, Lincoln," she demands. "Is this your first time being touched by a girl."

I tell her the truth. It is not. The first time I let a girl touch my penis was nearly six months ago. To be honest, I can't really say it was any girl. I say that because this girl and I live in the same household. It was the day of my birthday. The celebration, ironically, took place at this very park. The theme was from Where's Waldo? The park was in the sea of red and white, peppermint-striped individuals. It wasn't my idea, but through the cajoling of Lucy because of a recent birthday she had that I caused to crashed. Although it was her revenge, the party hit off very well.

It was later in the evening when after eating too much cake, orange soda, and hot dogs that caused me to use the restroom. Through the midst of my excitement, I ran to the restroom and into the stall. It was through that mistake that I walked in on Leni and I was in the wrong restroom.

Luka interrupts my thoughts as she grips tightly on my dick. Precum leaks profusely from its tunnel. The swelling on my balls reminds me that the time to climax draws near. Or that is at least Luka tells me as she caresses them gently.

She takes a sample of my precum and inserts it in her mouth. She is thrilled by the taste; hence her facial expressions as she leaves from behind me and makes way to where the action occurs. "This is very yummy," she says gleefully. "This is definitely worth the game and the money I have given you. If the appetizer is this great, then I can't wait for the main course." She sways her hair, putting both hands on my dick. She quickly inserts her mouth around my dick. She hums, making me feel the vibration. This in particular is a brand new sensation. She bobs down on my dick. The sounds of her muffles along with the feeling of her tongue on my dick tells me she is entranced. The strange feeling makes me want to collapses, but she grips her arms around my hips, keeping me from falling.

She takes her mouth from my dick, leaving a trail of her saliva and precum in the mix. "This is great, Lincoln. I am really have fun with this game." She tilts her head. "Are you, dear?"

Before I can respond, she edges her fingers to my ass where she put one of her fingers inside. I jolt as the foreign digit invades my cavern. What should have been an one-way cavern turns into a different access. "Your ass is tight," she moans. "I can tell you have never played with your ass before." She digs further, rubbing it in a circle as if she wants to expand my anus.

"I like playing with your ass, especially when it is fresh," she grins. "I wonder if I can insert another finger." I feel as she inserts her second finger into my ass. My dick stands at attention, making more precum to leak. "I see your switch is up and running. Makes me think of Chobits. Have you ever been a persocom?"

"No," I manage to say as she continues to play with my ass. She returns to my dick. She blows feathery kisses before putting it back in her mouth.

I groan as the feeling of my ass and my dick are double-teamed by the prowess of Luka. Her pleading eyes tells me that she hopes I am feeling good. The more she thrusts her fingers, the tension lessens. I drop my shoulders as I am beginning to be entranced in the pleasure of her control.

She keeps her eyes in my direction as she gets faster with her strokes. She quickly leaves my dick, only leaving her fingers for the sensation.

"I want to see you cum," she tells me. "I want to see your fresh, naughty dick cum from your ass." She hums as I am getting close. "Such a naughty boy to allow a stranger to have their way with you. Tell me, I hope you don't do to any stranger." She winks, stopping her fingers. "Or were you just waiting for me."

She shows her teeth, the gleam reflects from the sunlight. "Now, come for me," she commands as she gives my ass one final thrust as I let out my contents. She laughs as she bathes in my semen. She flickers my phallus with her tongue, soaking and embellishing in my milk until it is no more. Once I couldn't come anymore, she wipes her face with my milk; licking the contents with her fingers.

"Yummy," she says as she licks around her face. "Very thick and rich, your semen. You are definitely nubile to this."

I drop to my knees, exhausted from this experience. She holds on to me, rubbing my hair and kissing my cheek. I try not to think of my milk that is making contact with my face. It matters not as I want to get the $200 and go home. She takes my hand.

"The game isn't over dear. Think of it as an introductory level for beginners."

"What?"

She snickers. "What I have given you is a tutorial for the game." She wipes her cheek. "The real game begins now." She reaches for her backpack. She pulls the keys from there. "We are going for a ride."

Chapter Text

He tried not to think of the ill-gotten gain from the incident involving the camera and a snapshot of his teacher in the compromising position. He tried not to think of the modern day corporal punishment he received from the sturdy, moisten palms of his beloved teacher. He focused on the reciprocity his beloved teacher gave him through text messages and passing glances he received in the hallways. He was unfortunate that she wasn't there that often. He was rueing of her position as being part of the temporal staff. Many, many days, he prayed to the higher power for intervention of his beloved substitute teacher's attendance. But, he was fortunate of the miniscule of it. He would rather have that than nothing than all.

Never in his young years as the white-haired child was ready for a Saturday. Instead of the consumption of pizza, cookies, and caffeine his family members consumed the night before, he dined on a turkey and spinach salad with a hint of strawberry and raspberry vinaigrette; followed by a glass of water and a granola bar for dessert. Neither of his sisters asked about his choice as they were too hungry to care; more for them. His father thought it was a shift of his budding adolescence. However, his mother was a cause for concern. It was true when a mother knows when their children are going through changes. As Lincoln was sitting on his bedroom floor, packing his gear for his afternoon visit to Ms. DiMartino, a tap to the door interrupted his loving, but lecherous thoughts of the Latin beauty.

"Morning, stranger." His mother well-manicured hands swayed the door to the wall as she brought a fresh load of laundry onto his bed. She scanned the room, seeing the magazines of Men's Health, GQ, and the like. She saw the swimwear he was packing. Although appropriate, she noticed that the swimwear was a size too small for her son. She sat on the bed while Lincoln continued packing.

"I can tell you are really excited about helping your teacher," said Rita as she opened his drawer to put in his clothes.

"I am," he said as he zipped up his backpack and placed it at the foot of his bed. He clapped his hands, accomplished of his deed and went to his desk where he was in search of his swim goggles and also his protection. The latter of which he had to wait after his mother leaves. "I am happy to do a job of being helpful. You have always tell me to be helpful of those in need."

She was flushed of the sayings that were applying to his mind. She slightly tapped her cheek from his comment. "I am glad that you are doing a service. I am happy that she is paying you to be useful. I just hope that she knows that you are still a child and you have things to do of your own as well."

His face furrowed, but it was hidden for the sake of his mother. He sighed before returning his mother's answer. "I don't look at it that way. She wants to be a good person and give young boys like me an opportunity." He reached for his swim goggles. "I don't see her using me."

"Ok," she said. "You know, I say that because one of my fellow co-workers lives nearby." She took a breath. "She says that you are the only one she saw that weekend. Were there any other boys? Or girls?"

He shook his head. "No ma'am. Either of the kids didn't think working on a Saturday, especially cleaning a pool, was fun. I didn't think nothing of it. Besides, this is Ms. DiMartino, the most trusting person on this side of Royal Woods."

Rita put her hands on her hips. Lincoln knew that she was displaying concern, but he also knew she was displaying hints of suspicion. If her co-worker saw him alone, then what else could she have seen? He tried not to jump to conclusions. Anything that involved the two of them were within the confines of the house. Unless the nosy woman was spying on them, there shouldn't be a reason of concern. He relaxed those thoughts before thinking of a way to divert his mother's attention away from Ms. DiMartino.

"Mom, it is okay," said Lincoln. "I am not gullible. I am not naive. I am doing this for a bit. Look at it as building character. Plus, college is in the future and it is applicable on my resume."

Rita was flattered. She finished putting up his clothes in the drawer before going into his closet. She hung the clothes in the closet before closing it. Her face showed relief, which was good for Lincoln. "I guess you are right, son. It is just a mother has worries about what others do to their children when they are not around. I want to trust this Ms. DiMartino. I do. I want you to be careful. If you feel as though she is making you feel uncomfortable, then call me. I am a phone call away." She wrapped her hands tightly around his; displaying light shakes of a worrisome mother. "I love you, son. I am sorry for placing judgement." She winced before showing her trademark smile. "So, you are ready to go, dear?"

"Yes, ma'am," answered Lincoln.

"Good. Let me use the little girl's room and I will be on the way." She kissed her son on the cheek before departing for the room. He sighed loudly before going into the drawer to retrieve his condoms. Getting them wasn't easy. He didn't want to get into details. He can conclude on what positions Lori liked with Bobby when they were in the mood. Lori sounded like a goat and Bobby wheezing like a jagged smoker. The repetition of moans and bed squeaks have yet left his memory. It was when they went for a shower when he got the condom.

In retrospect, I should have asked Clyde. Never mind, he doesn't need to know.

The ride to Ms. DiMartino's cottage was quiet, with the exception of public talk radio. What made Lincoln cringed to his chagrin was the topic of the talk show: teenagers engaging in sex with older women. Rita turned the volume as she listened attentively on the details. He gripped his hands on the seat as he listen to the raspy voiced gentleman spoke.

It is with great concern that the delusions of grandeur are here with today's youth. They are overly exposed to too many things through the media, social media, the internet, and the like. It fathoms me with beyond description on how older people take advantage of the misguided youth. A disgrace, if you ask me. Too many children are exposed and lecherous people like older adults are taking advantage, seducing them with their treacherous poison and luring to a place of discontent. I remember an incident involving a twelve year old boy and a teacher back in California. I shouldn't have to say her name, but many people of the latter part of the 20th century is acutely aware of who I am referring to.

How can a corruptible, vile woman put her hands on a child, uses him to her discretion, and winds up mothering the child of his baby? It makes me sick to the pit of my stomach when adults do this to children. To the mindset of a child, it sounds fun. However, they have not yet developed the synapses of differentiating what is right and what is wrong. In their eyes, "an older person wanting me, desiring me sounds amazing." C'mon, they see it around them. Movies like American Pie, American Beauty, Wet Hot American Summer popularized, fetishsized the popularity of being with an older person. The misguidance, I tell you.

I would love to hear anyone listening in radio land on your opinion. Let's take a call….

Lincoln pulled his earphones from his pocket and began listening to the All-American Rejects. He drowned himself into the sensation of the acoustic guitar instead of immersing in the literature of forbidden pleasure. He wouldn't imagine someone criticizing the love he had for his substitute teacher. He loved her, or so he thought. The many nights he confined himself into his bedroom, nestled in the covers, feeling the heat as he masturbated to the Latin beauty. On that Thursday, Ms. DiMartino added something to his fuel. She came into the nursing office where Lincoln often volunteered and gave him a small, brown paper bag. She told him to keep it into his backpack until that evening. That evening, he was alone in his room. In the brown paper bag were the contents of her used silk, lacy panties and a picture of her in those panties.

Always dream of me when you use it!

Amelia

Inhaling her fragrance, licking the spots where her crevices resided, leaving residue of her love juices. He breathed until them, reliving the moments and tasted whatever juices he can lick. He masked himself until he climaxed in his boxers. He would finish by kissing them and hiding them in the bedsheets of his pillow.

"We're here!"

Lincoln smiled when seeing the family van pulled in front of the cottage. He waved to his mother goodbye before stepping out of the vehicle. She grabbed his backpack, hindering him from leaving.

"Hold on, mister," interjected Rita as she displayed the stern, worried mother look. "I need to make myself known to her before you can go on inside."

"Yes, ma'am," answered Lincoln defeatingly. Rita turned off the car engine. She grabbed her purse and walked out of the car. She opened the door for Lincoln as he got out of the car. His heart began beating as the thoughts of his mother's talk and the radio program gave him something of a rousing hint. Is she getting suspicious of this? How would she know? I have barely mentioned it around them.

Lincoln sat by the gardenias. Rita pushed the doorbell. There was a strong, pregnant silence. About two minutes later, they heard the sound of the door unlocking. As they turned, they saw Ms. DiMartino in the doorway. She looked casual, sporting blue capris and a Royal Woods School t-shirt. Her hair was in a ponytail. There was music playing in the background. If Lincoln remembered, she was a fan of smooth/alternative jazz.

"Oh, good morning, Mrs. Loud. Didn't expect you to drop by," she said while smiling. "Then yet again, being that Lincoln needed a ride, I can understand." She looked at Lincoln full-heartedly before returning her eyes on Rita. "How can I be of service this morning?"

"Nothing out of me, thank you," answered Rita. "I just wanted to show my face and l wanted to thank you for being good to my son." She looked at Lincoln as he blushed. "I hope he isn't being too much trouble."

"Oh, no," interjected Ms. DiMartino. "On the contrary, he has been a great help. Welcoming, friendly, and always, always, always shows great enthusiasm."

"Good," replied Rita. "I just wanted to be sure. Out of curiosity, is this pool job thing going to be indefinite or what?"

Lincoln's heart dropped. Oh no, I think she knows. Oh, God, I hope not. Please, please, please.

"It won't be too long," answered Ms. DiMartino casually. "Normally, I have my niece to come by and help, but she has yet to return from overseas. So, I wanted some help from the other students if they wanted to make some money. Lincoln was gracious enough to do the service. I hope I am not worrying you with this."

Rita waved her hand. "It is no problem. I just don't want him to be in the way is all. If he is doing good, then I have no problem with him helping you until the deed is done."

Ms. DiMartino smiled with grace. "Thanks, Mrs. Loud. You are a wonderful parent to be concerned about the welfare of your child. Trust me, he will be in great care." She winked at Lincoln. "Believe, he will be in great care."

Rita nodded her head. "Okay, then." She turned to Lincoln; wiping the sleepiness from his eyes with spit. He was embarrassed, especially after seeing Ms. DiMartino giggle. "Be good for Ms. DiMartino. I will pick you up around six." She looked at Ms. DiMartino. "Is that okay with you?"

"Certainly, Mrs. Loud."

"Call me Rita."

"Sure, Rita. Call me by Amelia."

Rita and Ms. DiMartino shook hands. Rita waved to the pair before making her way to the family van. Lincoln watched his mother drive until she could no longer be seen. As he stared, he felt the warm hands of his Latin beauty encapturing his neck.

"You will be in great hands, dear," she said in a strong raspy voice.

Lincoln began feeling the strong itch in his pants.

"Let's get inside," she purred while taking his backpack. "There are certain things I need you to clean out for me."

Ms. DiMartino walked inside of the house, followed by Lincoln. Lincoln's heart began beating as he closed the door. He knew this was only beginning of another Saturday.

Chapter Text

The thoughts that only consumed the teenage, white-haired child were lecherous. His erection, protruding in his pants, aching for the releasing of its bound, cotton imprisonment. He was tensed, waiting for the inevitable touching and loving of his substitute teacher. The day arrived and was prepared to be taking away. Even the morning before packing for this occasion, he masturbated to the thoughts of the Latin beauty. Imagining the woman enveloping around him, licking and touching any orifice that was stimulating to the touch. Like a spider entangling its prey, she was to feast until he was nothingness. Just a boy caught in the rapture of her love. Of course, the climax resulted in the stain of his boxers and possibly a change of his sheets; but this time, he will be entering into a cavern where no other boy, or at least he knows, has entered.

Ms. DiMartino instructed him to wait in the living room until she finished her duties. She must have kissed Lincoln two or three times on his cheek before making herself leave. Feeling her smooth, wet muscle of a tongue licking him and the light bites of her teeth, Lincoln prayed for hickies. He wanted something to remember as he returned home to continue his lucid, wet dreaming.

He was unsure if this task required him to be naked. So, he decided to take off his shirt. He took off his shoes, leaving a cool breeze with his sockless feet. He got comfortable with the very couch that he was spanked the week before. He gave it a thought of what he could do to return those spankings. She captured his heart and doesn't want to be released from her web.

"Come upstairs, Lincoln," she told him very casually. "I am ready for you." There was a slight pause before Ms. DiMartino spoke again. "Be sure to put on your swimming gear. We are going for a swim."

Awkward, the pool is yet to be filled. There are still things there needs to be cleaned.

"But the pool isn't finished yet," replied Lincoln, giving her the hint of a reminder about the empty pool.

"I know that, sweetie," she said with a light giggle. "I have something else in mind. Trust me, you will love it. Now, hurry up!"

Following her orders, he went into his backpack to put his swimming gear. Unsure if he needed his underwear, he wore them as a precaution; especially he failed to launch. He shook away those thoughts. Before he made his way upstairs, he opened the front compartment of his backpack to retrieve the condom. He only had one. He just hope that one was enough for what he was about to do.

He said a small prayer, made a sign of the cross, and wished himself as he entered the hallway of pleasure.

Lincoln didn't know that Ms. DiMartino had an additional floor to her cottage. With her bedroom being downstairs, he didn't gave any other reason for it. The hallway was thin and narrow. He was fortunate he wasn't an morbidly obese individual for he, too, was having difficulty going through. He concluded that the cottage was build in the early to mid 20th century, the era were weight was yet to become an issue. Before he could gather other thoughts on this history of this home, he made to the foot of the second floor. There, a single hallway displayed two doors. One, he presumed led to the attic, and the other door, which was ajar, was where Ms. DiMartino was awaiting.

Each step he took, he felt his heartbeat. He held the condom tightly around his sweaty palms. He was hesitant, giving himself second thoughts. Despite his brain being cognitive, his budding erection were thinking of other plans. Steadily, Lincoln made his way around the door. He held it gently as he could feel the vibrations of his heartbeat.

There, was a second bathroom he didn't know about. The display reminded Lincoln of early 20th century homes in New England. The bathroom was moderately large. The sink stood in the middle of the floor. From his position, he saw water running from the bidet. As he walk forward, he saw the tub was alone. There were no curtains. Everything was white and marbled. The walls, the tub, the sink, everything.

Standing in front of him was the Latin beauty herself. She stood in her nakedness. She was unashamed, exposing herself to the nubile, white-haired child. She pursed her lips, giving him a smirk as she, too, knew that he was pitching a tent in his pants.

"Close the door behind you," she purred to the boy. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he closed the door. He took steady breaths, holding on the doorknob to keep himself from losing his composure.

"Come to me," she purred, lingering her well-manicured nails to his sight. She licked her lips as she knew the boy was nervous. Anyone would be nervous with an encounter with an older woman. But, she knew Lincoln. She knew from the beginning that Lincoln was an easy, attainable target. Since entering the campus, she had captured the hearts of the faculty and staff. She had the credentials of being a permanent teacher. She was a college graduate, worked extensively in childcare, and needed to take a test to attain her teaching license.

However, Amelia DiMartino didn't just teach because of her love for education. She, too, was interested in studying the psychology and sociology of the male teenage mind. From the beginning, Lincoln was snared into her trap. It wouldn't take long for the naive boy to fall into the trap of her devices. Like using a bathroom that she hardly used. Or wearing a bathrobe, knowing she prefer walking in her home with either panties or nothing at all. To her, it was like shooting a fish in barrel.

She had better options of picking boys at the school. There were candidates beyond Lincoln's requirements. Nevertheless, she wanted a boy of innocence. A boy she can manipulate, to steer him in the direction of her desires. Her objective to mold Lincoln into the boy she craved until his uses were no more.

Seeing the poor, pitiful look coming from his dough eyes, she knew that Lincoln wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. However, Amelia had one concern and that was his mother. She put those thoughts to rest as she was going to savor the boy whose mother gave him permission to be in his care. Of course, the moment was ulterior, but she did sincerely care for the white-haired child.

I am going to make you mine, for sure. I am going to resonante any thought, any synapse, any memory that will alter your mind. I am going to be your first and last thought of the day. If you think of a beautiful girl, my face will be there. If you play with yourself, I will be in those thoughts. Seeing any Latina, anything brown will be my face emerging in your memory banks. Guarantee you one thing, Lincoln Loud, you are going to be a prize possession. I will make you into a suitable young boy that will be the envy of any girl and any boy of this school. Your talent will extend the love of your comics. I will teach you so much love that a slut you might become. And you know, that is what I want. A slut, but a slut that is just for me. Recognize my body, my scent, my everything, Lincoln Loud. The only mistake is that I wish I would have met you sooner.

In front of Lincoln was an inflated mattress. Accompanying the mattress, the naked Latina beauty awaited him and extended her arms to him.

"Come to me," she purred, pulling him into her bosom. His face was buried in her breast. She kissed his forehead, cradling his hair. She grabbed him by the chin. She blew on his kiss. He winced as he closed his eyes. "Now, here am I, Lincoln," she said with a low, raspy tone. "Your damsel, your queen, your woman of the hour." She slid her finger down his spine, leaving him with a shiver. "Have you waited for this moment, my dear."

Lincoln was hesitant to answer, for he was afraid to speak. His erection was now demanding for its release. She drew his ears to his blushed face. She tilted his chin, forcing to look at her. "Not saying a word doesn't answer my question." She pressed her face to his ear. "Let me ask you again. Look at us talking and hugging like lovers. Have you waited for this moment, my dear." She finished the sentence by blowing in his ear. He rattled, coughing as he was trying to speak.

"I have, Ms. DiMartino," answered the boy, averting his eyes from her. "SInce the spanking, the panties, my thoughts are filled with you."

She chuckled. "You know you made a woman like me happy. Now tell me, how were you thinking of me?"

He was silent, but she gripped his chin. "You are now in my domain, dear. In order to enter my holy passage, you are subjective to answer questions of my choosing. Not everyone is worthy of making it this far."

He nodded his head. "I played with…"

"No, no," she interjected. "Be explicit as you can. Remember in class I taught you about using explicit thinking? Now it is time to put this into use." She lightly slapped his face. "Now, try again, dear."

"I have used you extensively in my thoughts. I have inhaled your invigorating scent. I put my fingers around your panties as if I was licking your clit or absorbing your juices. Keeping it in the plastic bag, fermenting it only made my thoughts of you as impure and lecherous as the words itself been adapted into my modern-day lexicon. My sheets and my boxers have been soaked with my seeds, Ms. DiMartino. The poor seeds that will never experience the pleasure of entering your womb. The very seeds I hope to make contact with you." He ran out of breath. Amelia smiled as she knew that Lincoln put a lot of thought into his feelings. He has always been creative in using his words.

"I believe you, dear, and thank you for your honest feelings," she told him. She released him from her grip, telling him to sit on the floor. He crossed his legs as she began to spread her legs. Lincoln gasped quickly the moment he saw the entrance to her cavern.

Her legs were more milky, contrasting the brown skin, as they were getting closer to the upper thigh. There was hair covering her pussy. Lincoln saw wetness around her pussy, making him swallow another lump.

"First time seeing the real thing in person," she curiously asked.

He shook his head in disagreement. "It is not. Actually, the other day I saw my sister's by accident."

"Really, accident?"

"Yes," he said. "I was trying to get a condom from her and I snuck under her bed while she and her boyfriend were having sex."

"Naughty," she purred. "Describe what you heard."

"Just lots of moaning," he concluded while shrugging his shoulders.

She put her hands were her vagina was located. She tucked in her lips, giving herself a moan. "Was she moaning like this," she questioned Lincoln.

"Yeah, something like that," he said while trying to look away.

"Don't you look away, dear," she demanded. "Look at me this instant!"

She continued masturbating her pussy. She massaged the labia, spreading her folds so she could finger the areas of her interest. "Was she yelling obscenities?"

"Obscenities?"

"Yeah, like, "fuck me" or "take it all in" or "you are making me hot,"" she muster to say while continue to play with herself. "Did you hear him grunt, spilling his mighty dick inside of your sister? Or were you jealous of being in his position?"

"No, of course, not."

"It is okay, Linky. Nothing wrong of thinking lewd things of your sister. It is human nature when thinking of the opposite sex. Often, siblings experiment with each other."

"No, I don't think of her that way."

"You sure, I wouldn't mind if you did."

"I don't, I don't, I swear to God, I don't."

Ms. DiMartino stopped. Honestly, she wasn't planning to take it that far. She wanted to test his limits before taking advantage of the situation. He was adorably too honest, she thoughts. Maternal instincts were kicking in and she wanted to embrace him in her loving. However, it was not the time for she was in the position of making him her property. She returned to the position of power. She licked the contents of her finger before making Lincoln approach her.

"I believe you, sweetie," said Ms. DiMartino. She put her finger to his lip. "Open your mouth and taste."

Lincoln opened his mouth to welcome the juices of Ms. DiMartino. It tasted weird, like an unripe fruit, he thought. He wasn't as delectable he imagined in her used panties, but he concluded it like it was wine. It gets better with age. She thrust the finger inside of mouth, feeling the moistness of his tongue licking her contents.

"Taste the lovely gift you are receiving, dear," she said. "No boy has ever had the privilege. You should be quite blessed."

He continued licking her digits, even as far of licking in the crevices of her fingernail. He held his hands to her finger, leaving him with a slight moan. Ms. DiMartino released a slight moan herself, leaving her a little wet. She quickly released her finger from Lincoln, leaving him with an empty feeling.

She smiled. "Wanted more of me?"

He nodded his head pleadingly, leaving his mouth agape wanting more. Ms. DiMartino released that there was a bridge of saliva from his mouth. She chuckled. "In time, child." She spread her pussy wide enough for Lincoln to have a good view of it.

"I don't think you have to guess about this, don't you," she asked him teasingly. "Or would you rather direct your attention to doing it?"

Lincoln edged forward, closing his eyes as he instinctively kissing her thighs. It was slight peck, taking his time to get familiar with her body. "Go further, dear. I want you to go further."

He kissed her inner thigh, taking his time to go to her erogenous zone, her cavern. As he was approaching it, he could smell the very juices he craved in his time alone. Her skin was soft, reminded him of a plush pillow or a marshmallow. The closer he was to her pussy, the more she moan. "Keep going. You are at the sweet spot. C'mon, Lincoln, don't be afraid. I got you."

"Yes, ma'am," he confirmed. He was at nose length with a clit. Her clit, which looked like a little bean, was throbbing tremendously. He opened his mouth and began flickering it. She grabbed his head, forcing him to embed in her pussy.

"Work your tongue. Take care of the area. Don't be afraid to put your mouth to work," she cried. Lincoln follow suit and stuck his tongue in the area. Amelia knew he was a novice to the job. He will be required for more practice, which she didn't mind at all. She made a mental note to purchase books for him to better perform fellatio with her body. However, just like molding him into her usefulness, he was a work in progress.

His tongue encircled her pussy as if he was trying to familiarize himself with her taste. Lincoln was feeling a little tired, not used to have a special place this close. Meanwhile, he was combating the erection that was ready to pull a Jackson Pollock in his pants.

His tongue was tasting the acidity of her juices, impacting his taste buds. Although he was getting tired, the spirit willingly gave him the guile to continue. He wanted to make her feel good. He wanted to make her feel important. Also, he knew he would do anything to make contact with her body. Against all odds, he continued.

"Yes, Lincoln," she said while covering her mouth. "Right there, right there. You are hitting it, sweetie. Give mommy the sweet spot. Make me come, make me come, make me come." Her moans were heightening. He was grateful that they were beyond closed doors for anyone to see. He was kicking himself to keep himself from coming. "I am about there. Swallow it the moment I come. Taste me, taste me, and reminder your tongue of who it belongs to."

Belong to?

She locked her legs around Lincoln, entrapping him. She clawed her fingers into his hair. Lincoln couldn't handle the pressure anymore. He knew that the moment she climaxed, he was doing the same. He grabbed her hips and began squeezing it. He, absentmindedly, bit onto her clit.

"Lincoln, I am gonna cum. I am gonna cum," she screamed.

"Me, too. Me, too."

They both screamed into pleasure as they climaxed simultaneously. Her juices splashed onto the nubile child's face. He ingested the juices with much of his strength, briefly choking at moments. He shivered as the warm sensation of his semen bounded in his swimwear. They twitched before the afterglow eventually faded. She released her grip and he fell backwards to the floor. He panted loudly and coughing as he was introduced to oral sex.

Ms. DiMartino swayed her hair, gasping as her body shook into pleasure and feeling her juices vacating the premises. With her pleasure fulfilled, she got on her knees where Lincoln lied and planted a kiss on his lips. She pried his lips open with her teeth and forced his tongue to do a dance with her tongue. Lincoln was too exhausted to debate it. The pair continued kissing until the pleasure ceased to exist. Once they broke the kiss, Ms. DiMartino lied beside Lincoln. Her breasts making contact with his bare chest.

"So, Lincoln," she said in between pants, "did you enjoy this moment."

He shook his head in agreement. "I did, Ms. DiMartino, I did." He blushed and looked away from the scene. Seeing her ravished body returned the itch, but it didn't helped that the now cool semen resided around his throbbing cock. Suddenly, he felt a touch from the palms of his crush.

"Oh, look at yourself," she tsked. "You couldn't wait for your turn, couldn't you?" Lincoln wanted to cover his eyes, but she took his hands away. He didn't want to look at the wet patch around his swimwear. "You are such a boy," she said before pressing onto the wet patch. The sounds of her kissing and licking the wet patch made him squirm.

"Stand still," she said. "This is punishment for not following my directions. Did I say anything about giving yourself pleasure."

"No, ma'am," he answered with guilt in his voice.

"No is right, Lincoln," she said. She rubbed his dick. He squirmed as he felt his semen basking along with her hand. "Your son is awake and I can tell it is hungry." She pouted her lips. "Do this little cat of yours went to give me the cream?"

"I don't know."

"Lincoln, Lincoln," she tsked once more. "Do we need to remind you when little boys lie. Do I need to spank you once more?"

"No ma'am," he protested.

She smiled, continue to kiss him around his dick. "Do not mood. Now, it is your turn, I guess." She put a grip around his swimwear. "But you owe me big, understand?"

She saw the condom next to the confused looking boy. "Were you going to use this? Were you expecting something?"

He gave her a blinked stare.

"I am kidding," she said jokingly. "However, when I go into the pool, I want nothing obstructing me." She took the condom and torn it open with her mouth. "If you want to be careful, then you must know the risk." Lincoln tensed when her body weight landed on his hips. "Let me be the first to congratulate you on your losing your virginity with your first and only girl."

Lincoln was taken aback by the latter comment.

"You belong to me, Lincoln," she said with sternness from her voice. "This is a proclamation that I will be the only girl in this world that has dedication, loyalty, and overall, control and dominion over you."

Lincoln didn't know where this was coming from. However, with the sultriness of her body, her voice, and the demands, he didn't care whatever she desired for he knew that he prayed for this moment of having Ms. DiMartino.

He had a thing for her and didn't want to let go.

She squatted as she stroked his shaft. He panted loudly as he awaited his dick to enter her cavern. Without further hesitation, she entered his dick inside of her pussy. Lincoln's eyes widened, tears were escaping from his eyes.

"Oh, don't cry, Lincoln," she purred as she kneeled forward and licking his tears. "I am going to make you feel good. I will be sure that no one girl would ever take advantage of this. I am quite lucky that you were the boy that came. Nothing else can compare to you." She pressed her lips to his ear. "You are my man now!"

She leaned back as she gyrated her hips. Every stroke, Lincoln felt the folds of her pussy entrapping his penis. It felt like a vacuum as he took sharp breaths, covering his moans. Amelia laughed loudly as she began squeezing her nipples. She took strong strokes, but careful to not promote an orgasm. Although she had already come, but wasn't ready to take in the seeds of Lincoln; or at least not now.

"Tell me how it feels," she asked him.

"It feels good. Lick my dick is on fire," he responded. Without thinking, he grabbed her ass and pressed firmly on her cheeks.

"Catching on quickly, aren't you," she said. "Now, I am going to step it up further. Your body needs to adapt to how I like it."

She quickly rocked his shaft, moaning loudly and uttered his name under her breath. She returned to the position where Lincoln was. She closed her eyes and wrapped her lips around Lincoln. Lincoln felt her soft, luscious breasts touching his erected nipples. He relieved himself from touching her ass and began touching her breasts.

"Catching on, my dear," she said. "That is right. Know my spots, know my taste because that is the only thing you are going to know for the rest of your days."

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

She swayed her hands to where his balls resided. She gracefully cupped his balls and began squeezing them tightly, resulting in hardening his penis. From that point, Lincoln's mind was going blank. Everything was going silent. He saw his crush moaning and pinching his nipples while calling out his name. The bathroom where the scene was taking place. As he was close to orgasm, he reflected on the moments that led him to this.

It is funny where life takes you. What began as a dare turn into a moment like this. Maybe this was meant for me? Maybe it was by accident. Regardless of the circumstances, I wouldn't trade this moment for the world.

Ms. DiMartino began humming with her mouth, which gave the white-haired shivers along with vibrations from his dick. He thrust upward, intensifying the moment as he was getting ready to come. Amelia was waiting for this moment. She felt his dick protruding into her womb.

There you go, Lincoln. Enter the special spot of where I have you in control.

"Ms. DiMartino, I am there. I am gonna cum," he cried to her as he spurted his seed inside of her. His dick twitched, releasing every content into her womb. She welcomed each spurt with love, filling the warm confines of her womb. She kept her eyes on Lincoln, making sure he was witnessing her expression as she was ebbing in the pleasure.

He was panting, but still looking at Ms. DiMartino's smiling face. She gave a slight, devilish smirk. She didn't leave right away. She wanted a few moments of filling his hot seed inside of her. "Tell me, Lincoln. How did you enjoy your first time with your mistress?"

His tongue was dry. He tried collecting what saliva he had to speak. "It felt good. It felt good." He stretched his arms as his hands were beginning to cramp. He stared into the ceiling before Amelia got off of him. She crawled to the bucket where she poured some liquid on the air mattress. It looked slick and sticky. "Come to the bed to rest," she told him. "I will help us relieve some tension."

Lincoln got to the mattress where he lied on his stomach. The stickiness along with his nakedness made him feel weird, but he was too tired to care. If it were up to him, he could fall asleep. She poured more of the liquid on his back. It was cold to the touch, made his eyes widened in shock. She began lathering his body in the liquid, making him feel good as he was enjoying the sensual massage.

He felt Amelia kneading his ass, following by caressing his back. He heard her pour some liquid to herself before getting on top of Lincoln. He felt the pecks of her on his neck.

"Ms. DiMartino," he said gracefully. "If you don't mind, I would like to rest."

"You will," she said. "However, I am not done with you just yet." She began bucking her hips to his body. "Lest we forget of who you belonged to?"

His dick was returned to full mast. "I know, and I am fine. It is just that I want to rest a bit."

She chuckled. "Understand, Lincoln. When I say we will keep going, we will. Or unless you want us to stop what we…"

"No," he protested. "I don't, I don't."

She chuckled. "I know, dear. Your love is undying and doesn't want to let go." She tucked her fingers under her pelvis where she began rubbing his dick. "I might have to punish you for your actions, but I will reward your son for be awfully and adorably honest."

She hovered her breath, licking his ear and rubbing his hair. She continued smiling as she knew that Lincoln was in her possession. "Now, it is time to review, my dearest Lincoln. Who do you belong to?"

"You," he answered quickly.

"Excellent. What does that mean?"

"It means I am at your mercy. I am yours and nobody can have me."

She bit on his ear lobe. "Correct! Now, the second question. Your loyalty?"

"My loyalty?"

"Yes, your loyalty towards me," she said as she continued bucking her hips on his back while playing with his dick. She, teasingly, rubbing her breasts on his back, leaving him with slight moans. "What does that mean to you?"

"It means you are the only one I am devoted to. It means you are the only person I can have sex."

"Great work, dear. Now, the third question. Since you belong to me, does that mean you will do whatever I say?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"So, if I tell you to eat out my ass, would you do it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"If I tell you to fuck me while we are in public? Like in a restaurant bathroom or on a bus, would you follow my orders?"

He felt his penis getting ready for the third round. "Yes," he mustered through his moans.

"Would you fuck me in front of your friends? Your sisters? Your father? Your mother?"

"Yes, yes, yes, and a thousand times yes," he screamed. "All of it. Everything! I would do for you, Ms. DiMartino. My love for you is undying. Make me your man. Make me your bitch. I don't care. Please, I will do anything you want of me."

She bit her lip tenderly. Now, you are my man. "Good boy, now come for me." Lincoln felt his third orgasm sprouted from his dick. He shivered in the pleasure while Amelia rubbed his stomach. "Let it out. Let the good waves come out." She continued until she never his orgasm ceased.

"Let it out, baby. Let out it for me. Remember, Lincoln Loud, you are mine and you belong to me. You will do as I say. No matter what or when, you hear me?"

"Yes, Ms. DiMartino," he answered weakly.

"Call me Amelia," she purred in his ear.


 

It was about an hour later when Lincoln was found cleaning the swimming pool. He wiped the sweat from his forehead as he continued the job. Although he knew he belonged to Ms. DiMartino, but she was serious about cleaning the pool.

Lincoln managed to get the deep end of the pool cleaned and ready to be bleached. He knew he had about a couple of hours before to finish the shallow end. He predicted that the pool should be finished by tomorrow. With any luck, the pool could be ready in about a week or two.

Thinking about the pool excited Lincoln for what was to come with his budding relationship with his substitute teacher.

He heard the patio door slide open. He covered his head to see that it was his mother entering the backyard. He looked to his watch and saw that it a quarter after four in the afternoon. He didn't question it. He was fortunate that his mother wasn't there to see any of the action.

Rita whispered sharply. "Look at my little man doing some hard work," she said. She pulled out her smartphone to take a picture of the dirty, exhausted Lincoln. Flustered and blushing, he covered his face.

"That is gonna be a keeper for sure. Something to remember my little boy and his first job," she cried excitedly.

"Oh, mom," he pouted. "You are a little early this evening."

"I know, dear. I know I said six, but your father wanted family night tonight. I let Ms. DiMartino know and she was okay with it. Plus, we are going to Gus' Games and Grub tonight."

Lincoln immediately jumped from the pool and smiled at his mother. "Now you are speaking my language. What are you waiting for? Let's go!"

Amelia stood at the front door of her cottage. Standing in front of her was Lincoln and his mother.

"Thank you, Amelia, for allowing my son to know a thing or two about work," said Rita.

"It is nothing, Rita. Lincoln is a joy to be around. I look forward to doing more with him," she said while smiling to Rita and winking at Lincoln.

"Feel free for anything you want to do with him," she said. "Just let me know ahead of time, okay."

"It is no problem, Rita," replied Ms. DiMartino. "You have such a handsome, hardworking son. He must make you proud."

"I am proud of him. He is my only boy. So, I must be good to him," she said. "And as well as his sisters and my husband."

"Couldn't agree with you more," she said. "Tell you what, since I am getting comfortable with your son, I wouldn't mind making my acquaintance with you as well."

"With me," Rita questioned.

Amelia leaned against the door. "Sure, I am the kind of person who acquaints myself with anyone. If he is a pleasure, then I must get to know the parent as well."

"No problem," she said. "What time is good for you?"

"Are you feel tomorrow afternoon," questioned Ms. DiMartino.

"I am," replied Rita.

"Let's make it a day with us girls and Lincoln," she said. "Where Lincoln can clean the pool, we can get to know each other as well."

"I don't have any trouble with that idea," replied Rita. "Plus, I hardly get out the house often. And I don't mind extending my friend circle." She put her finger to her lip. "Should I bring anything tomorrow?"

"Sure," exclaimed Ms. DiMartino. "I wouldn't mind a glass of wine." She looked at Lincoln. "And some soda for this little guy." She rubbed Lincoln's hair, which in return blushed.

"It's a date," confirmed Rita. "See you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," replied Ms. DiMartino. "Before you go, Lincoln, you left something of yours in the kitchen. I think it was your goggles."

"Forget as always," said Rita while giving him a slight tsk. "Go and get it. I will be waiting in the car."

Rita lightly touched Lincoln's cheek as she made her way to the car. Lincoln returned inside of the house to retrieve his goggles. When he closed the door, Amelia pressed him to the door, giving him their final kiss of the day. She reached for his groin and massaged his dick. She continued for a few moments as he was trembling in the pleasure. He squirmed in between breaths as she continued to kiss him.

"Let it out for me before she comes back," she cried in excitement. "Don't fight it, Lincoln. Remember who you belong to."

"You," he managed to say before he climaxed in his pants. He was trembling as she bit him on the lip. She retrieved the goggles from the kitchen and placed it in his hand. She even gave him another brown paper bag.

"Another memento for tonight," she said before kissing him on the cheek.

"Thank you, Mistress Amelia," he said.

"Thank you for your loyalty," she replied. "Now, you know your objective?"

"To always serve you no matter what," he answered.

"That is my baby. You are making your mistress very proud," she said. "Now get some rest. We have a full day tomorrow."

Lincoln waved to Ms. DiMartino goodbye before running into the car. He opened the door where his mother awaited his arrival. He thanked his mother for today and lied against the seat. He closed his eyes before catching a second wind. In those thoughts were the bathroom, her body, his allegiance to her, and the parting gift he was ready to use for tonight.

Never have I been excited for an arrival of the weekend.

Chapter Text

Judging by the timed arrival of his train ticket, the train should have arrived at least thirty minutes ago. There wasn't an announcement. No notification on his cell phone. If it was as if the train didn't exist; or no one cared for its late arrival; or maybe, this route was a figment of Lincoln's imagination. Either of those possibilities can contribute to the probable cause. Nevertheless, the train has yet to arrived. Therefore, he had wait on bated breath for the train to arrive.

He was cold; shivering from the light orange and blue Syracuse jacket he was wearing. His mother wanted him to wear something heavier, but it was against the suggestion of Lincoln. Nothing that was too constricted or heavy to carry, he told his mother with strong absoluteness. Not wanting to start an argument at seven in the morning, she gave in to his demand of the light orange and blue jacket he was now regretting. He wrapped his arms tightly, hoping to conceal any warmth. The terminal's heater was broken, resulting in a plugged box heater in which the elderly and the homeless were currently residing in the corner of the lone terminal. Not wanting to interrupt or interfere, he returned to the wooden seat to wait for the train.

He looked at his watch to see if maybe he was late. He had a history of confusing himself with schedules. The time was a little after nine in the morning. The clock on the wall at the terminal coincide with his watch. The printed time on his ticket displayed it to be at twenty before the hour. That meant that he was waiting for about an hour. His mother, being a stickler with time, dropped the young, nubile boy early so he could catch his train. Lincoln is planning to travel to Toronto to see his grandmother. Lincoln was unable to go see his grandmother because he and Clyde were at Computer Camp. For the older, yet young-at-heart woman, an absence of her only grandson was not taken lightly. She wired some funds for the lad for his arrival. She made an itinerary; detailing everything the duo was going to do together. From watching movies to kite flying to crocheting and the like. Neither of which interest Lincoln, but it was the experience he garnered for his grandmother. Also, the highlight, better yet, silver lining is the homemade moist, hot chocolate chip cookies with butterscotch ice cream he was craving.

He sat back against the chair, waiting for the train's arrival. Until then, he waited. For a few moments, he watched people passing in and out of his direction. An elderly woman complaining about her blood pressure and the uncertainty of her prescription from her doctor. A docile, quiet child tugging at her father to pick her up. The passerby of salarymen going to their nine-to-five jobs before getting lost in the system of capitalism before returning to their spouses with their broken and defeated dreams. Or that was at least he had overheard his father discussing with his mother one evening at the dinner table. The term he remembered his father used was kafkaesque.

Ladies and gentlemen, sorry for the delay of announcement. But the AMT 234 train bound for Toronto has been delayed for another thirty minutes. Please be sure to keep track of your ticket with the schedule arranged for your time. We once again at AmTrak apologize for this inconvenience. Passengers bound for Chicago, please….

He gave a heavy sigh. It meant that he had to waited a little longer before the train arrives. One of his pet peeves was when something was late. It reminded him of the time when he and Clyde were waiting for the arrival of a brand new game console. The schedule time was earlier in the summer. However, delays came and so did the change of dates. It wasn't until the beginning of September when the console finally arrived. Unfortunately, school was a day before, which meant Lincoln couldn't play it like he wanted. It left him with disappointment for his failed game-filled summer with Clyde.

To combat his boredom and impatience, he pulled out his book from his backpack. It wasn't everyday Lincoln read novels. Preferring the taste of graphic novels and manga over print, this book in particular garnered his attention as he waited with Luna, Sam, Tabby, and Lynn at the mall. The book was called The Ballad of Gustavo and Fatima. He flipped to the chapter he last bookmarked. He became curious of the text after hearing multiple conversations of his sisters discussing the heavy romance scenes in the novel. At school, his female classmates gazed over the heartthrob Gustavo and admired the beauty of his love interest, Fatima. Curiosity struck the white-haired child and decided to investigate. That evening, he invited Clyde to his home after overhearing his sisters having a book meeting with a few of their friends. The meeting was to take place in the basement.

Luna and Lynn gave orders of no boys were to enter the basement for it was girls' talk. In the bedeviled eyes of Clyde and Lincoln, the communication of the basement was to be taken place in the bathroom. Lincoln waited until the girls were situated. At Lincoln's cue, he and Clyde were positioned in the bathroom. With a pencil and notebook, along with a bag of chips, they waited on the fascination of the novel and why the girls were aroused with excitement.

A pregnant silence enveloped the boys as they patiently waited. It was ten, fifteen minutes before Lincoln and Clyde heard something audible coming from the basement. With their eyes pried to the vent, they heard faint sounds of moaning between the girls.

Fatima

Gustavo

Take me, baby. Use your force to drift me away.

Their heart raced, beating at the tempo of the womanly moans. Neither looked at each other for they were embarrassed of the results of their nosiness. They left the bathroom with confusion and protruding pants.

It was the decision of Lincoln to wait after the girls left to discover what occurred. It was the middle of the night that the white-haired child sneakily entered the basement. He was delicate with every step, trying his hardest not to alert any of the sleeping family members. Upon entering the space, the faint smell of womanhood entered his nostrils, confirming that the girls were masturbating. He took one step and tripped to the floor. He let out a small cry. As he tended to his scraped knee, he saw the very thing that caused it. On the floor was The Ballad of Gustavo and Fatima. He scanned the area to be sure he wasn't seen. He picked it up. He pulled a flashlight from his pocket to open the pages. Upon opening a random page, he felt moistness around the page. It was damp. He put the book next to his nose to smell. It widened his senses upon smelling the funny scent. He wiped his hand on his pajamas. He took the book from the floor and returned it to his room.

Now, he sat at the wooden bench reading the very novel that belonged to Tabby. He never pictured Tabby to be the type of girl doing those kinds of things. Then yet again, Lincoln thought, they were teenagers. He once read that people involved in group masturbation tend to do it around those of the same sex. He continued to read that it was because they felt more comfortable than someone of the opposite sex. Lincoln admittedly masturbated from time to time, but never in front of someone of the same or opposite sex. That evening left he and Clyde feeling strange, but neither were courageous to discuss the matter. The finale of the evening was spent playing video games until Sam called Clyde to take him home.

Neither friends didn't discuss it. Lincoln couldn't blame him. However, The Ballad of Gustavo and Fatima drew more curiosity than anything.

He ventured through several pages with anticipation of any raunchy scenes of the romantic couple engaging in sex. Being at an impressionable age, he anticipated the words "penis," "vagina," "semen," and "juices" to come into his vocabulary. As he kept reading, he didn't see anything of the matter. Granted, the plot kept his attention. Plenty of scenes in which drew emotion. Like, he was mad at Fatima's father for forbidding her to see Gustavo because of his Christian faith as they were Muslim. Another scene was which the animosity Gustavo had for Fatima's father after banishing her in a secret castle. He was getting to the part where Gustavo was calculating a plan to get back Fatima before something casted a shadow over him.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" Lincoln heard a gentle, yet heavy voice above him. Taking a break from the book to see the person, he saw that it was a woman. She appeared to be a woman in his eyes. She could have been eighteen, nineteen, but judging by the two-piece business suit with a white blouse and black stockings, she could have been a salarywoman. The woman was peculiar tall. Maybe standing at five foot ten inches, but depend as she was wearing high heel shoes. She had a slender figure. Her clothing complimented her curvy body. She was wearing glasses that stopped at her pointy nose. She had skin that reminded Lincoln of milk. Her cheeks were rosy, as if she was blushing or it was a natural look of hers. Her eyes were almond shaped and had a strong tint of blue. Her red hair was longer as it descended to her back. It was a fiery red that it looked like she demanded respect with compassion. Her legs complimented her. They were shaped well as if she did cardio on a regular basis. As for her bust, it was not the largest, but it looked well. Trying to not sound or think pervertedly, Lincoln thought, it reminded him of ripe cantaloupe. She pursed her lips as Lincoln snapped out of his observation.

"Sure," he answered. He moved to the side to allow the businesswoman a seat. She gave him a thanks and made her way beside Lincoln. As she sat beside him, her height confirmed as he felt he was beyond a giant. She put her briefcase next to her seat. She then pulled out her compact from her purse to check her appearance. She gave herself a check before putting it away. She glanced at Lincoln, giving him a smile. She then reached for her cell phone.

There was silence with the pair. With no other interaction involved, Lincoln resumed with his book. He flipped the page where he last left off with Gustavo making a master plan to get back Fatima. He smiled as he imagined himself going after the girl he liked. Granted, he had never had a girlfriend since Ronnie Anne and there weren't other girls he could think of his interest. With Ronnie Anne, he knew his taste were somewhat peculiar and articulate. It meant that Lincoln enjoyed the dominant nature of a woman. Something about a woman in control fancied the young lad. There was an incident when he was at school when Ronnie Anne grabbed him by his shirt collar and demanded a kiss. With much anticipation, he smiled as she enveloped her lips around him before pushing him to the locker. She blew him a kiss as she left. A kiss never tasted sweeter when it was by force.

Of course, it was a secret he neither told to his parents, his sisters, or Clyde. The thought of a boy being turned on by a domineering woman is still a "no-no," a taboo in today's society. Like any ill-minded thoughts, he concealed them in his brain. It resided until he can meet someone with the same taste. But, with Ronnie Anne gone, he hasn't find that girl. Another thing that personified Ronnie Anne was her elegance of maturity. She may have been teenaged, but she carried an aura of a woman. She knew what she wanted and how to get it. From day one, she targeted Lincoln with plans of a relationship. From the beatings at lunch to sloppy joes in his pants, Lincoln was hers for the taking.

"Oh, I never thought to see the day a boy would get interested in this novella."

He was interrupted. He went to the source of the sound and saw the businesswoman laying her eyes on him. She looked curious. The phone was gone, just her hands laced around each other. She peered over the book, mouthing the lines that seemed too familiar for her. "As you keep reading, you are going to love how Gustavo tries and sways Fatima."

Lincoln blushed. "Thanks. This book isn't half bad. I don't why, but I have seen so many people discuss it that I had to check it out!"

"It is a must read book. So many elements of romance and such levity and cupidity that I still get shivers as I read." The woman spread her smile as she continued looking over Lincoln. She extended her hand. "I am sorry for being rude. Where are my manners? My name is Miyuki. What is your name?"

He returned her handshake. Her hands were very soft, he thought before answering her. "My name is Lincoln."

"Nice to make your acquaintance, Lincoln," she responded before reaching in her purse. She pulled a stick of gum. She chewed it, discarding the wrapper in her purse. "So, Lincoln, any reason for being at this platform. Are you traveling with someone?"

"No ma'am," he told her. "I am going to Toronto to go see my grandmother."

"Really," she said. "I am on my way to Toronto as well. But for business, not pleasure." She stuck her tongue out. "Be glad you are a student and don't have to worry about jobs and stuff yet."

Lincoln let out a slight laugh. "I will keep that in mind. I think I will enjoy being a student a while longer before submitting myself in the confinements of a finite workforce."

Miyuki was taken aback. "Such a strong vocabulary you have."

"Thanks," replied Lincoln. "My teacher is a nazi when it comes to words. She callously etches us with it every single day. So, it can't be help."

"And judging with the language of this story you are reading, I think you are aware of the themes," she said while winking.

Lincoln closed his book. He knew with this conversation, he wasn't going to read anytime soon. "Honestly, I am only reading it because of how much interest the girls are having with it."

She giggled. "I bet. This novel is the most anticipated novel from this author. She has spent extensive time working on detail after detail to articulate the romance of forbidden love."

He shook his head. "I can see that part, but it is something about it that is making girls become so different."

"Like what," she asked with curiosity from her voice.

The intercom interrupted Lincoln's attempt to answer.

Ladies and gentlemen, the AMT 234 is arriving to the station. Please be ready for departure in the next ten minutes. Be sure to have your luggage ready before arriving on the train. Reminder, the AMT 234 to Toronto is arriving. Departure time is in the next ten minutes. We at AmTrak would like to apologize for any of the inconvenience we have given you all. We hope to use us again on your next trip. Thank you!

Lincoln returned to Miyuki's sight. "Well, I think it is time to get ready to get on our train."

"That is okay," she said while swaying her hands. "When we get inside, we can discuss more about the story."

"That will be fine. Because I am very curious about the book's tenacity to women."

She laughed, covering her mouth. Lincoln saw some of her lipstick smeared on her fingers. "You have such a colorful vocabulary. You must make your family proud."

Lincoln blushed, nodding her a thanks of the compliment. He got from the wooden bench and reached for his backpack. Miyuki followed behind him, carrying only her briefcase. As he was approaching the train conductor, Lincoln dropped his book, resulting in his tripping onto the pavement.

He hit the ground head first. A wincing pain stinging his forehead. Miyuki came from behind to help him get up. She kneeled in front of him, dusting him off. She pulled a napkin from her purse and dabbed it with her tongue. She cleaned his face with it, resulting in a flushed face. He felt embarrassed, especially of the maternal act she did.

"Are you okay," she questioned him.

"I am fine, thank you," he answered while looking away from her. As he was picking up the book, he looked at the picture on the back cover. The picture of the author looked identical to the woman he was talking to earlier. He took the back and slightly placed it beside her. She just let out a smile.

"Wait a minute," he said while he was taken aback. "The Ballad of Gustavo and Fatima is made by, made by…."

"Nice to make your acquaintance once again," she said. "But, alas, I am the author of this story. The pen name doesn't match my real name. But, I am the author of this story and I can definitely answer your questions on the appeal it has to women."

Lincoln and Miyuki walked to the train conductor as he was scanning tickets. The salt-and-peppered individual made contact with Miyuki. He blushed as she whispered something in his ear. Upon finishing, he wrote something on Lincoln's ticket. Miyuki took Lincoln's ticket and put it in her purse.

"You are sitting with me. I bumped you to first class," she said to Lincoln.

Lincoln made a mental note to himself as he was in the steps of solving the problem of The Ballad of Gustavo and Fatima and the urges that made women compel to their sexuality.

Chapter Text

Ivy and ferns grew through the crevices of the old winding stone path, which led directly to the colossal structure. The mansion loomed proudly behind creaky iron gates, flanked by rows of skeletal trees crowned in crimson, swaying gently to the chilly autumn wind. At its threshold stood the delicate marble fountain, the soft gurgling of the clear water melodic as it resonated in the surrounding silence. According to the GPS, this was the location of where he needed to be. On the crumpled piece of paper, torn from a phonebook, he was to be here by three in the afternoon. With time steadily approaching three, he had a few minutes to spare. He took deep breaths, trying his best to maintain his composure. He reminded himself that this kind of nervous was normal. Anybody with a pending job interview is going to be that way, he reminded himself as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He wiped his moist hands on his pants. He was grateful that the midnight blue slacks hid the moisture. Lola gave him certain colors of his clothing to conceal his nervous. She added that the colors of midnight blue and coral blue complimented each other.

He stepped out of the Honda Accord. He closed it gently, trying not to alert anyone or anything. His footsteps were the only thing breaking the silence, along with the dead leaves as he approached the door. Judging by the denseness, the door was old-fashioned. A bit of a history buff, Lincoln knew that the door was an eighteenth century door based from New England. The bronze door handle cracked, but it brought more authenticity of its age. He was about to hit the door knocker until he heard something from the intercom.

Static was going on, but after a moment, a feminine voice came from it. "I have been expecting your arrival, Lincoln Loud." Lincoln felt the seriousness in her tone. It wasn't alert, but very certain. The hair from his back was standing, but he kept his composure as he pondered on his next words. "I am grateful to see potential employees come to meeting earlier than planned. It shows effort and I appreciate effort, Mr. Loud!"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, taking the compliment.

"When you hear the buzzard, come on in," she told Lincoln. "Be sure to take off your shoes at the entrance. My maid already has shoes prepared for you."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you." A short silence followed before Lincoln heard the sound of the buzzer. He pressed the door handle, allowing him entrance to the door. Just as she said, there was a corner available for his shoes. He pulled off his shoes using his feet. He gently placed them on the top shelf. As he placed them, he saw that there were another pair of shoes; shoes that belonged to a woman. He tried not to give it any thought as he reached for the slippers and made his way further into the mansion.

From his position, the entrance was very grandeur. It gave him a very antique, retro feeling, if he was using the words accurately. A prominent golden chandelier stood proudly in front of the stairs. The stairs, curvy and marbled, ascended into a split, leading to entry to either rooms. Unsure, but he found it fascinating. He was in awe of the decor of the mansion for it was his first time being in such a place. The closest of seeing a mansion was from television or reading it in his books or manga. Before he could ponder more of the mansion, the door opened from beside him.

Lincoln stood in attention as he saw the woman walking out of a presumed office. She carried an ambiance of mature, important, and cautious. She pursued her lips, giving a glance of Lincoln before extending her hand.

"Hello, Lincoln," she spoke, displaying her smile.

He was startled, but returned back to normal. "Hello, Mrs. Tenoh." He returned her handshake. It was firm, giving Lincoln a reminder that it was a woman giving him a handshake instead of a man.

"Come on in," replied Mrs. Tenoh. "Excuse the mess in here. I was in the middle of cleaning."

It was a standard office. It had a desk, a laptop, and a small bookshelf. On the walls displayed her accomplishments of a businesswoman. From the intel he collected, Haruka Tenoh is well-known in the art industry. It wasn't until a few months ago when she decided to venture in comic book circuit. She used her business connection to establish an office and a studio in the quiet Detroit suburb. She was in search of recognizable, hidden talent. Lincoln was fortunate to be categorized under her search.

Lincoln was surprised of her casualness as he made his way into the office. He imagined her wearing the tidy business suit like she normally wears. Instead, she was wearing jeans and a plain, slept-on yellow Tokyo Giants t-shirt. She stretched her arms outward into the air as she moved some papers from a chair to allow Lincoln a seat. Lincoln can agree with Mrs. Tenoh on the work in progress of her office. She went across her desk and went to her laptop. Lincoln sat quietly and attentively as she type a few things. She furrowed her eyebrows, clicking on a couple of things before returning her eyes to Lincoln.

"First of all, I want to say welcome to this informal interview, Lincoln," she said to him as she displayed the screen of her laptop in front of Lincoln. On the screen, it displayed images of Lincoln's works. "Second of all, I hope that this wasn't much a big a deal to do it here instead of my office. We have a lot of moving going on there and didn't want to interfere. I hope you didn't have a hard time finding the place."

He shook his head in disagreement. "No, ma'am, it wasn't hard at all."

"Good, I am glad." Haruka reached for a cigarette. "You won't be offended if I smoke in here, would you?"

"No, ma'am," answered Lincoln. It wasn't until a few moments later when she pulled out a pack of Marlboros. She pulled out two. She put one to her lips and handed the other one to Lincoln. "I won't judge because of your age. But the shakiness and the rings around your fingers gave it away." She chuckled while lighting the cigarette. Lincoln leaned forward as Haruka lit his cigarette. Both exhaled the fumes before resuming to the matter at hand.

"Lincoln, you were a hard person to find," she said while looking at his artwork. "Yet again, being this talented and only in high school, I shouldn't be as surprised." She whistled. "But this is great work and I must say, you make people who spent many years in this game very minute in their craft."

Lincoln bowed for the compliment. "Thanks, but you are giving me too much credit. It is because of them that I copied in their image."

"Look at yourself being humble and modest," she said while flicking the ashes into the empty coffee cup. "That is why I want you to be involved with this."

"Wait a minute!" Lincoln was taken aback. "Are you telling me that you are going to hire me? What about the process and…."

"Never you mind about that," she said. "Those are formalities so other won't be jealous. But the minute I saw your work, you were already hired. The juxtaposition of you and your work was timing." She took another puff of the cigarette. "When I saw your drawing parodying Sailor Moon, Ouran High School Host Club, Revolutionary Girl Utena, Mysterious Girlfriend X, and Amagami, I was amazed, just to name a few of your work. Judging by your Ace Savvy works, your inspiration came from that particular comic."

"You can say that he was the start of what I am doing," said Lincoln admittedly. "From the beginning, I always wanted to be a comic book artist. But, it wasn't until high school I wanted to become a mangaka."

"Mangaka," she retorted while finishing her cigarette and reaching for another. Lincoln took that pause as an advantage to take a puff of his cigarette. "I can't promise you will be there in the near future. Your skills are flawless, but unproven." She took another puff. "However, you will be useful for this. Let's say it is a start on your path to being a mangaka." She turned her laptop around and typed on the keyboard. A few moments later, she turned it to his sight.

"Are you familiar with OEL manga?"

"I am," replied Lincoln. "Original English Language manga. Works that are Japanese inspired, but made from the Westerners."

"Right on the money," replied Haruka. "Since moving from Japan, my mindset has always been money. From representing agencies such as AT&T, Johnson and Johnson, and the like. It gives me great joy when seeing stuff you do flourish." She exhaled. "Lately, I am looking for a new venture. A colleague of mine from Osaka discussed with me on getting involved in this kind of media. Frankly, I am a fan of manga, but don't have a clue. The only thing I know is money and you guys are the resources that I need to make it happen.

This start-up company is going to be responsible for opening up writers and artist to create one-shots and serialized stories. Don't worry, I have people from out there bringing their finest people to come through and help us. However, I prefer the majority to be from the neck of your woods."

She put the cigarette down, focusing her attention on Lincoln. "You came very recommended, Lincoln. When I first met you at the comic book convention those few months back, I saw your talent. It is a damn shame that you didn't win. But, it comes to show you how much people know fine quality work. Anyway, I search far and wide to find you. It is the blessings of God that you are here. Now, I am highly interested in putting you to work." She leaned closer to him. "Are you up for it."

Before Lincoln could give himself a thought, he quickly responded with a yes.

"I am happy to hear. However, there are legalities. Because of your age and the damn labor laws in this country." She paused. "The point is I can't pay you as much as I should because you are sixteen." She let out a smile. "However, the laws never discuss about commission." She gave him a wink, which made him blush. "So, I will pay your standard wage and give you an additional check. What do you say?"

Lincoln wanted to jump from the seat and scream from the top of his lungs. An opportunity to work as an artist and with well-known businesswoman, Haruka Tenoh, he silently thank God before returning to reality. "I am happy to say that I want to do it. How soon can I start?"

"Not for another month or so. There are some things I need to get straighten out. I just wanted to have you on our side before anybody else gave you any idea," she said. She extended her hand. "Welcome aboard, Mr. Loud."

He shook her hand. His smile was wider and wanted to call his parents about the news.

"This calls for a celebration," she said. She pressed the buzzer on the intercom. "Honey, can you do me a favor and come see me for a sec?"

There was a small silence, but it was quickly answered. "Yes, dear." Lincoln's eyes widened when hearing it was a feminine voice.

"Normally, we have our maids, but they have yet to have their papers cleared."

"So, you just got here?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Yes and no. I have been in and out over the past couple of years. However, the woman you just heard, that is my wife. She has been here for a few years now."

"Your wife?"

She blushed as she put both elbows on her desk. "I am a lesbian, Lincoln." She winked. "I have been involved with my wife for quite some time. She is a wonderful woman and I can't wait for you to meet her." She gave him a fierce stare. "You don't have a problem about I being with a woman?"

"Of course, not," answered Lincoln. He smiled. "I mean it is a shame that a beautiful woman like yourself can't be with a man. But, seriously, your choice is your choice and I respect it."

Their conversation was interrupted when they saw the woman in question. Haruka's face displayed affection when seeing her wife. The woman displayed a pleasant smile on her face as well. She looked to be in her late thirties. She had fair skin and beautiful long hair. Her body, her aura displayed maturity, elegance, modesty, and the like. She was wearing a blue sundress. In her hands, she had a tray of coffee with individual cups for the cream and the sugar.

"I wasn't sure if you wanted something to drink, but I brought it, just in case," said the woman.

"One of the reasons why I love you so, darling," answered Haruka.

The woman walked from behind Lincoln's chair and made her way to Haruka's desk. Before she could put the tray down, her eyes descended on Lincoln. Her smile dropped the moment she laid eyes. In return, Lincoln did the same.

Lincoln averted his eyes. The woman did the same. Haruka noticed the awkwardness and was prone to speak. "What is the matter, Lincoln?"

Lincoln turned to Haruka. "It is nothing. The sun reflected from the cup and got in my eyes, is all."

"Ok," she said before turning to her wife. "Is everything okay, Michelle?"

She nodded her head. "I am fine. Just migraine is all. Been busy with so many things."

"Don't work too hard, darling. Especially when we have two bundles of joy on the way."

Michelle was silent, just nodded in agreement with Haruka. Haruka turned to Lincoln. "Excuse me for that, but Lincoln, this is my wonderful wife, Michelle."

Michelle blushed, displaying her hands to Lincoln. "Good to see you again, Lincoln."

His face was drained of its color, but returned her handshake as well. "Charmed."

"So, you two know each other," asked Haruka.

"Yes, ma'am," replied Lincoln. "Haruka teaches orchestra at my sister's school. I come there often to watch my sister or help your wife out with things." He took a sharp breath. "I didn't know that you are her have a connection."

Haruka smiled. "This girl keeps to herself. When I mean she wants her life private, it means it is private."

MIchelle look startled. She quickly poured coffee for the pair. She handed it to them before making her way to the door.

"Hey, dear, what's the rush? Lincoln and I are just talking. Come have a seat and chat with us."

"I quit, dear," replied Michelle. "There are some unpacking I have to do. Also, papers that need to be graded. I also have that competition to…."

"Relax, dear," interjected Haruka. "I am okay. Go and tend to your work. We will talk later. I love you."

Michelle turned and smiled. "I love you, too."

Michelle whisked away from the office. Lincoln took some breaths before returning to the matter at hand. Haruka took a sip of her coffee and turned the laptop back in the direction. A few moments later, her intercom was buzzed. More footsteps sounded in the hall. Then, there was a knock to the door.

"Yes," asked Haruka.

"The lawyer is here with the contracts," answered Michelle as she opened the door.

"Shit," replied Haruka under her breath. "I forgot about that." She turned to Lincoln. "Listen, Lincoln, sorry to cut this short, but can we meet another time?"

"Sure," replied Lincoln. "Thank you for the job."

"The pleasure is all mine," answered Haruka.

Haruka followed Lincoln out of the office with her hands on her back. Lincoln passed the lawyer as she was entering the office. She looked like she wasn't too far from Lincoln's age, but her occupation reminded Lincoln that she was well into her thirties. She had long hair and a slender body. She was wearing the kind of suit that reminded Lincoln when Lori wore on her first after college job interview.

"Michelle," said Haruka. "Be a dear and let Lincoln out. I don't want to further make her wait."

"No problem, dear," answered Michelle.

Haruka kissed Michelle on the cheek before walking into the office to close the door. Out in the center of the hallway was Lincoln and Michelle. Lincoln kept his head down to the floor. He saw Michelle's slipper from his line of sight. He took another breath as he tried to make his way to the exit.

"Lincoln."

He stopped in his tracks, his heart beating when he heard her say his name. When she said it, it could have been music playing or whispered prayer. It still wasn't enough to deter Lincoln. He was at the spot where he was putting on his shoes. As he putting them on, Michelle kneeled beside him. Lincoln could smell her honeydew scent. Lincoln wasn't afraid to admit that Michelle was a beautiful girl.

"Lincoln. Lincoln. Can you at least turn around so we can talk?"

Lincoln kept silent. He pulled on his other pair of shoes. He put the slippers on the other side. He stared at the door. He closed his eyes. He wanted to combat the tears. He wanted to be somewhere other than here. What was Michelle doing here, he thought. Why is Michelle serving the role of wife, he thought. Why is...why is…, he ingested that thought before releasing, why did Haruka say she was expecting?

"Why didn't you tell me you were married to her," asked Lincoln without looking at her. "Why didn't you tell me you weren't in between relationships?"

"Lincoln," she said hesitantly. She put her hand on his shoulder. Lincoln tucked in his lip when feeling her familiar touch. His breathing was getting faster. He was now combating his tears. "I don't...I don't...I don't know, Lincoln."

Lincoln stood up and turned around to see Michelle. Her hands were tucked in her sundress. She even couldn't look him in his eye as well.

"I don't know either, Michelle. I don't know, Mrs. Tenoh."

Lincoln turned around and put his hand on the knob. He turned the knob and left out the door. He sniffled a few times before making his way to the Honda Accord. He had his hand on the door before seeing Michelle in the reflection.

As he turned, Michelle pressed her way to him. She grabbed his face and reached for a kiss. Lincoln was hesitant, fighting it but Michelle had the upper hand. He muffled as he tried to pry her from him, but she didn't stop. Lincoln saw the tears streaming from her eyes. No longer could handle it, he dropped his keys to succumb to her kisses. Both shared a fiery kiss as tears were coming from the both of them.

"Let me go," argued Lincoln in between kisses.

"I won't," replied Michelle.

"Let me go," he said repeatedly.

"I won't," she answered. "I won't, I won't, I won't."

"Don't do this to me," cried Lincoln. She used her knee to spread Lincoln's leg as she advanced into him.

"I won't let you go," she cried. "I am sorry for doing this to you."

"Let me go," he said in between sobs. "Let me go, Michelle."

"No," she whispered to him. "I won't let you go. I won't let you go, Lincoln Loud."

Chapter Text

It is two in the morning when Lincoln manages to finish his project for his British Literature class. What should have been a two week assignment turned into an all dayer for the depleted Lincoln. Instead of attending class like he should, he skipped school to confine himself at the public library. He made the excuse to the librarian that he was homeschooled. The benefits of fooling an senile elderly woman, he humbly regretted to himself. The assignment was discussing the literature of the early twentieth century. He really didn't care for British literature or the stories itself, but he needed something to aid him on his works. He decided to use an nineteenth century story and how the elements and themes impacted a movement of twentieth century London. He neither remembered the subject or the story itself. Be as it may, the story was finished.

He closed the laptop, stretching and yawning while thinking of the impending school day. He had about a couple of hours before the alarm clock would get him up at six in the morning. He turned off his lights. He got from his chair and took off his clothes. He wasn't in the mood to be in his nightfall attire, settling for his boxers as he put his knees onto the bed. He got into the covers, feeling the pleasure of the soft sheets on top of him. As he was about to drift into his well-deserved slumber, an alert came from his phone.

He jumped up from his bed, trying to reach his phone without alerting his parents. It was good enough that he was already past his curfew, but he didn't want to further incite or alert his parents. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand. However, it wasn't his cell phone. Immediately, he knew it was the sound of his other cell phone. He went to his desk drawer and pulled out his special phone. He quickly hit the answer button.

"Hello," said Lincoln.

"Hey, Lincoln," said the voice. "It is Clyde. Sorry that I have to call you this late, but this is an emergency."

He nodded in agreement while he was yawning. He was walking to bed where he was sitting as he knew he had to prepare for the night. "It is all good, Clyde. I am fortunate that you caught me while I was still awake."

Clyde scoffed in laughter. "Last minute as always, my friend. But anyway, this is no social call. The guild has called and we are on assignment."

"Gotcha. I am getting into gear right now," said Lincoln. "What is on tab this evening."

"According to the info the guild has given me, this is quite a dozy," said Clyde while he was whistling.

"Hasn't stopped us from tackling any challenges in the past," said Lincoln as he was looking for his uniform in the dark. "Tell me as I get myself together."

"Our newest assignment goes by the name of Jessica. A recent convert. Unsure of her history, but it has been reported that she is involved with two attacks with teenage girls in Berkeley and Auburn Hills. Although two different parts of the city, but the m.o.'s look similar."

"You know I don't like to take any chances," said Lincoln. "Do you have a location in particular?"

"Fortunately, yes. According to the guild, she was last sighted at our neck of the woods. At Royal Woods Park," confirmed Clyde.

Lincoln wasn't particularly frightened. At this particular juncture, he was frustrated that this vampire was interrupting his slumber. He went inside of his drawer where his uniform was made. He find his victorian-style dress along with his acessories.

"How many are joining us tonight," questioned Lincoln as he was looking for his wig.

"Besides us, maybe another. I am not so sure."

"Why is it a dozy, then? Should it be at least some more?"

Clyde sighed. "I call it a dozy because she is a special case."

Lincoln smiled. "A vampire girl who chases after young girls? Okay, now I am definitely grateful of being in uniform."

"Hearing by your sounds, I know you are excited."

"What can I say," replied Lincoln as he finished the final piece of his uniform. "Linka enjoys the company of a woman."

"Fetching," said Clyde. "Anyway, be ready in the next few minutes. We will meet you by the city square."

"Have one of them come to the square right now so we can have a sighting," answered Lincoln. "Once we get confirmation, then I can go and pull my tricks."

"Gotcha, Linc," said Clyde before hanging up.

Lincoln stepped from his bed and exited his bedroom. He was cautious not to disturb his sleeping family. Also, he didn't want to explain to his parents or his siblings on his current get-up. He walked gracefully down the stairs as he made his way to the front door. Once he made it out, he went to the garage where he had his bike. Once getting his bike, he went to the bushes where he hid his backpack containing vampire gear. With his backpack and his bike, he was making his way to Royal Woods Park with Clyde and honestly, whoever rent-a-hunter was there.

Lincoln became part of the hunting guild about a year ago after his sister, Luan, was targeted by a vampire. Although she recovered, she was never the same Luan. Since then, Lincoln dedicated himself in targeting vampires, especially the one who bit Luan. Luan explained to him that she wasn't sure what the vampire looked like. The only thing she remembered was the vampire had a scar on her neck and a chipped tooth. Through research, thanks to Clyde, Lincoln found a hunting guild who was recruiting.

It was a few minutes later when Lincoln made it to the park. Just as he thought, Clyde was waiting for him at the city square across the street. He was wearing all black clothing and was posted behind a vehicle. Lincoln parked his bike a few blocks before walking the rest of the way to the park. He kneeled beside Clyde. They dapped one another before Clyde returned to the binoculars.

"What is the word," asked Lincoln as he stared into the dark, empty park.

"According to our rent-a-hunter," said Clyde. "She is in the park." He pulled out a piece of paper from his backpack. "Jessica Sagnier, a French girl. She happens to be a teenager like us. Apparently, her parents reported her missing over a few years ago. She was last sighted in New Orleans as she was a foreign exchange student out there."

"Any victims besides our two?"

"Yes, mostly girls. Chicago, Milwaukee, Minneapolis," said Clyde. "None have been fatal."

"New blood," answered Lincoln. "You think I should make my move now?"

"Not yet," said Clyde. "I want to be sure that I can see her. Or at least see any presence around the area."

Lincoln got his backpack and pulled out his tools for the hunt. He got his pearl necklace and put it around his neck. He also had pulled his stake that came from a hawthorn tree. He put the stake inside of his jacket. He sat quietly, waiting on Clyde's signal.

"Bingo," confirmed Clyde with excitement from his voice.

"Did you get the message," asked Lincoln.

"Even better," said Clyde. "The eternal child of the night is within our reach." He gave Lincoln the binoculars. "Check her out!"

Lincoln took the binoculars from Clyde to see the vampire damsel. Lincoln's eyes were widened, his mouth was agape of seeing the vampire damsel. Her blonde hair was wrapped like goldilocks. Similar to Lincoln, she, too, was wearing a victorian-style dress. She was slender, tall, and very dashing from his position, he thought.

"Whoa," said Lincoln. "It is a damn shame that this girl is a vampire." He sighed. "But, it is part of the job, I guess." He turned to Clyde. "I am ready when you are."

"Alright, Linka," he laughed. "Do you stuff. And remember, do your job correctly."

"Yeah, yeah," answered Lincoln as he scoffed the previous comment. Lincoln coughed as he tried to prepare his feminine voice. He swallowed a lump in his throat as he prepared to take on his assignment of the night. He saw Jessica walk a few faces into the park. He was familiar with the trail. The trail would lead them to the bridge where the pond reside. He decided to run ahead on the opposite end to beat her.

A few moments later, he arrived to his spot. He took some deep breaths, trying to maintain his composure. He straightened himself out and prepare his role as he saw Jessica come from the distance. He played coy, staring into the murky lake. Her footsteps gave him confirmation that she was coming. He let out a silent prayer as she made herself closer to him.

"Good evening," said Jessica as she took graceful steps toward Lincoln/Linka.

Lincoln turned, batting her eyes gracefully, letting out a slight smile. "Good evening, better yet, good morning."

"Clever, aren't you," said Jessica as she leaned next to Lincoln on the bridge. "Why is such a dashing beauty all alone in the dead of night?"

Lincoln covered his mouth, letting out a giggle. "I could ask you the same dear, my dear. Maybe because I enjoy the beautiful crescent moon shining before me." He turned to her with alluring eyes. "Or, maybe, I was waiting on someone."

Jessica waved her hand, presenting it to Lincoln. "I am Jessica. Jessica Sagnier."

Lincoln returned her hand with a peck on it. "Linka is my name."

"Linka," she retorted. "It is a pleasure to meet you on this lovely evening." Lincoln saw as Jessica opened her mouth. Seeing the sharpness of her teeth confirmed his target. He wasn't ready until she made the next move.

"So, Linka. I do have to ask about your reasoning on being here. It is not just because of an evening stroll," she purred.

He sighed. "You got me. I am actually looking for someone. Someone very special to me."

"Oh," she said. "Is he very special?"

Lincoln returned a sly look. "Actually, she."

Jessica stroked her cheek. "Very fetching. I envy that girl." She turned away, looking at the moon. "It is a very lovely night indeed. A very loving night for an encounter."

"You think so?"

"I know so," she giggled. "Can I stay with you until she comes."

"Certainly. In fact, I feel insult if you didn't. The park is kind of dangerous at night. I wouldn't mind a helping hand."

"I certainly wouldn't mind," replied Jessica. She took a look at Lincoln's pearl necklace. "That is a very pretty necklace."

Lincoln blushed, holding on the necklace. "Thank you. It was a gift from my beloved."

"Beautiful. I am now envious on how treasured she made you, I mean it." She added, "may I take a look?"

"Please," said Lincoln.

Jessica reached and held onto the necklace. "This necklace is beautiful, dashing. It really brings out the color of your eyes." Jessica peered closer, pressing her body to Lincoln. "It brings the beauty out of you."

"Thank you."

"You wouldn't mind if I further check out this beauty, would you?"

Jessica came and pressed her body onto Lincoln. She caressed her hands with Lincoln's cheek. She tilted his neck and was to proceed with a kiss. The moment Lincoln saw her attempted kiss, he made the opportunity to go and attack.

Lincoln ducked to the ground. He quickly reached for his stake. Jessica jumped back, surprised at the sudden change.

"What the hell," she screamed.

"Sorry, Jessica," responded Lincoln in his regular voice. "I wish we could have further this rendezvous, but your evening is drawing near a close."

"You're a boy?"

"I am afraid so," said Lincoln. "But, don't you worry, your shock won't be as long."

Lincoln lunged at Jessica. However, she move with a quick dodge. Lincoln rolled before making another attempt. Jessica opened her mouth, exposing her fangs. She ran toward Lincoln, but he tripped her, which made her land on her back.

"Sorry, my love," said Lincoln. "But you will thanking God for his salvation." He lunged the stake at her back. However, the half of it broke in pieces. Desperate, he tried again with the other half. However, it was to no prevail.

"What, no," said Lincoln panickingly. "How in the hell did it not work."

Suddenly, a maniacal laugh erupted from her. She grabbed Lincoln by his neck and tossed on to the ground. Jessica got on top of him and kept her grip on him. "That hunter was right. You are too easy of a target."

"You mean that rent-a-hunter?"

"He was scared pissless. He was too quick to give me details," she said while swaying her hair. "I didn't kill him. But, he did make a fine meal." She licked her lips. "You made it just in time for dessert." She released her grip from his neck, but to grab him by his knees and hauled him over her shoulder. "We are going for a ride." She picked him up into the air and the ascended in the sky.

"I knew who you were the moment I saw, Lincoln," she said.

"How did you know," questioned Lincoln.

"For one, Linka? Really? Second, you name rings around our counsel." She laughed. "It will be a damn shame if I were to take you there."

His face turned pale.

She giggled. "I am not. Plus, the amount of torture they will do to you. I mean, I wouldn't have you to myself. Anyway, we are going to have some fun for awhile. Much, much fun, Lincoln."

Chapter Text

She decided that nightfall was going to be the right time of her debut. Cradled in the corner of the restroom stall in the public park. She sat on the toilet in darkness. Riveted in the scent of dried urine and bleach, the stall was her temporary residence until nightfall. She observed her surroundings, seeing any source of light was there. She could barely see the scrawled graffiti of those before her. Etched in dark of perverted phrases, expletives, mushroom towers, and the like, all resembled the dark, lecherous mind of Tomoko Kuroki. The jaded eyed individual took sharp breaths, feeling the fear. She took that back. To fear meant she didn't have the guts to do. Her purpose since the beginning of high school was to become popular. Before stepping foot onto the campus' grounds, she has fifty years of dating experience and conquered over a hundred men. She had the stats, she knew the game, and she knew the definition of dividing and conquering.

She snickered loudly, trying not to display any attention to others. Or at least, not for the time being. She garnered the idea of public places after spending the latter of her evening masturbating on the internet. Dating sims and private 4-chan chats were wearing her down, becoming minute to the brain. Because she was currently living aboard in the United States, she waited until her homestay family departed for the evening. She was very fortunate that the Loud family allowed her a domicile in Lincoln's room.

Soaked in her sweat and her juices, she concluded her evening of watching hentai and did some research after watching a previous hentai-exhibitionism. She watched a scene in a movie where a girl instructed a boy to walk in the park naked. It was the dead of night, which meant no one should be there. However, it was the thrill of the risk the boy was doing as he listened to every instruction the perverted girl was giving him. She looked on her bookmarked sites from home to see if they were any occurrence happened recently at her local park. Lately, Osaka Metropolitan Police have been cracking down on exhibitionist. So, it was to no surprised that there haven't been any action lately.

She parked her fingers in her cavern as she continued reading about the excitement of exposing herself in public places. Her thoughts returned to the boy as he was instructed to masturbate in front of the restroom. Tomoko could feel his trembles, shaking as he stroke his shaft, knowing the chance of getting caught was high. She pursed her lips as she decided to replay the hentai that was filling her brain with lecherous, lewd thoughts. Just to raise her own stakes, she jumped from the bed and opened the bedroom door. The scent of her womanhood and her ghastly moans further the risk for Tomoko. She knew they weren't home, but she wondered about the possibility.

An hour had passed, she looked at her cell phone and saw it was a few minutes after nine in the evening. The children should have departed for the evening; the adults were returning home. It left her with a sense of wonder as she prepared for her debut.

As the light fades to black, the colors of the grass and leaves remained in her mind almost like a fragrance. The park became ever more silvery between the the shadows that stretched out as if yawning. Already the warmth of the autumn day was quite gone, only ever present in the sunshine, and the first bite of winter paled her skin. It gave her goosebumps as she stepped out of the restroom in her nakedness. The only thing she had of possession was her cell phone. She had other plans for that.

She took a path off of the sidewalk and headed into the grass. At every moment, at every step, she felt her heartbeat growing rapid of the risk she was taking. Tomoko Kuroki, a teenager, a foreign exchange student, just made her American debut as the teenage exhibitionist in Royal Woods Park. Her mind was filled with excitement of the things she was going to write on her 4-chan account. She was upset that because of her age, this could have been on a Penthouse forum. However, she can say that she lived the experience. She spread her legs to allow the cool air to enter her nether regions. She wanted to go limp, as she was already sensitive when it came to her body.

That alone returned her to that night in Lincoln's bedroom. She borrowed Luna's messager. As her excuse, she told Luna that she had a history of back pain. In a way, she was speaking a half-truth. The many nights she spent on her back masturbating or watching others at a love hotel can do those things. Luna didn't mind her guest borrowing the massager. Tomoko put full use of it that night on Lincoln's bed as she was looking at the door and watching the hentai video of the boy naked in the park.

As she stepped further onto the grass, she wished she would have brought that massager with her. Sitting on the calm, still grass; dew gathering as she was producing her own. Juices and precipitation joining as one. The candid view of nature, she thought to herself. She held her arm as she continued walking. She found fascinating that earlier, the laughter of the children in the park as died along with the light of the day. In darkness the black grass was left to recover from the happy frenetic footfalls, soccer balls and picnics. The trees swayed, at first visible against a pale grey sky, then hidden by blackest night. Leaves scurried along the path and the breeze becomes more keen, leaving Tomoko with a poetic type of feeling. Even though she was enjoying it, but she felt that there was one missing element.

Why do it when there isn't someone in works with her, she thought.

She closed in eyes, picturing the people she desired whenever she masturbated. The thoughts of her brother, Tomoki, her best friend, Yu, Yuri, Mako, Yoshida, her cousin, Ki, the Denver Broncos, the Tokyo Giants, Christian Slater, Sora from Aki Sora, and among other things. She thought about Lincoln. She never got the chance to speak one-on-one with him since he was often busy. Since they attended different schools, the only time she could see him was at home.

Lincoln was very friendly with Tomoko; giving her a helping hand when she wanted it. He didn't mind giving her his room during her homestay. His parents were helpful when getting Lincoln set up in the basement. She smiled how modest and honest Lincoln was. Although there was difference in age, but Tomoko felt the matched in other ways.

Lincoln was the fuel of her masturbation that night as he served as the boy walking alone in the park. Tomoko imagined herself as the girl giving orders. With the massager, her pussy twitched into pleasure as the motor grinded into her pussy. Her dam was broken as juices released onto the sheets. She bathed along with her sweat as she wanted the entire bed engulfed in her juices. She wanted a scent that would remain onto his bed even after she returned home to Japan.

She shook her hips as she wanted to touch Lincoln. She saw the boy stroking his dick in front of the drink machine. She envied the hand that was on his dick. Once, in her journal, she compared Lincoln to a grape. She wanted to suck the juices of it and use the raisin to finish him off.

She stopped when she saw a similar drink machine as she did in the hentai. She decided to have her way there. The light served as an aid as she played with herself. She closed her eyes and tilted her head into the autumn breeze as she pictured herself having her way with Lincoln.

"Lincoln is younger. He needs a senpai that can help him," she told herself as she dig her fingers into her cavern. She can hear the flicking of her juices, sopping wet, and ready for release. "I want to make Lincoln do these kinds of things to me. I want to do those kind of things to him."

She felt a jolt as she squeezed her bean. She squeezed her legs as she desired climax. "God, I am such a horny bastard. Never in my life have I wanted a dick." Lincoln came to her mind. "And I going to lose my virginity to that white-haired American boy. I am going to make him mine, rather he wants it or not."

She thrust her fingers faster. She moaned loudly, ignoring any consequence occurring, even like the time she was masturbating with the door open.

"Lincoln, I am a horny girl," she screamed. "I am such a horny girl. I am going to come on your face. I am going to come on your face. You better drink my juices like it is the most tasteful thing in this world."

Her body shook, becoming numb as she climaxed. Her juices sprayed on the drink machine. The juices deflected and bounced back to her naked body. She continued calling Lincoln's name until the climax subsided. She released her fingers from its soaked sentence. Her hands were lifted, allowing her juices to drop on her face. She then reached and licked them until there was nothing left.

She sat up and satisfied of her accomplishment. She licked the juices on the drink machine like the boy was instructed to lick his semen from the machine.

Tomoko sat up and realized that she was still out in the open. She was grateful that no one showed up; same as she climaxed on Lincoln's bed and no one entered the bedroom. She was fortunate on both occasions she dodge the bullet. She let out a small laugh for her job well done.

She got up and decided to return to the bathroom stall. Once she finished putting on her clothes, she stepped out and was ready to head back home. Tonight, she was going to return back home, finish her homework, and resume masturbating. Also, she had some research to do.

"How I am going to make Lincoln Loud fall for me," she told herself as she was walking back to the Loud house. "Even though I am unpopular, but I think it will be fine. Plus, he is cute and he needs someone to teach him a thing or two about feeling good. Plus, I have enough points to conquer anyone and that means Lincoln also."

The thought of getting Lincoln was making her aroused. Then, a thought came to her mind. "If I can survive the park without getting caught. What can happen if I were to do it in the house?"

She smiled as she stretched her arms into the sky. She scratched her nose, but became aware of her pungent odor of her fingers.

Note to self: take a shower before continuing anything else tonight.

Chapter Text

He told Lily to not drag the scarf or else it would get tattered. He wasn't surprised at her carelessness. She just turned five and he was grateful that she was learning how to dress herself. With their mother's return to the workforce, it was decided that Lincoln would be responsible for taking Lily to music class every day after school. Lincoln put his palm to his forehead, for the decision came through drawing straws. He wasn't home at the time. He preferred the option of spending the evening drawing comics and writing stories with his longtime friend, Clyde. In result of his absence, the null and void decision of Lily's caretaker was final.

She jumped for joy as she heard the sounds of the puddles' splash. Like it was a new sound that she was curious. That was part of the reason for her attending music class. Before she could talk, she perfectly pitched a tune. At three years old, she was playing scales on Luna's keyboard. Even she and Sam had a jam session or two before band practice. Lily was identified as a child prodigy at the age of four after she picked up a saxophone at daycare and taught herself to play. It was through the advice of her preschool teacher to enroll her in music class.

Lily grabbed Lincoln's hand as they approached a street corner. Lincoln was grateful that there were some sense where it counted. She held his hand tightly, tugging at her big brother. He knew that if any sibling was going to take her class, it will be Lincoln. Matter-of-factly, she whispered to her brother that she prayed it was him, followed by a peck on the cheek. It wasn't strange for a young girl to have a fascination of her only brother, Lincoln concluded. He rather have himself than other influences in the world. When the light turned green, Lincoln told Lily to look both ways before crossing the street.

The music school was in the garden district of nearby downtown. It was about a half mile from their home and adjacent to the park. Lincoln was fortunate that the arcade and the diner, Magnolia's, was within the vicinity. A chance of Mortal Kombat and some apple pie with hot chocolate was perfect for Lincoln as he imagined, licking his lips and rubbing his stomach.

The building was located on the second floor. Judging by the design, it seemed the office space combined with the previous office space. He wasn't an engineer, but he noticed the newly formed wall with the former shell of a door. Lincoln's intent was to drop off Lily and then go to the arcade to kill time until her hour was up. But before he stepped foot in the school, Lily folded her arms and stopped Lincoln in his tracks.

"You are going to stay with me today," she said as she stomped her foot. Her arms crossed displayed herself meaning business. A handful of occasion rose from her standing her ground. When she didn't want peas or mashed potatoes and when she wanted something of importance. Lincoln knew that this was the latter of the matter.

"I wanted you to see me play. That is why I wanted you to come with me," she told him with the pleas in her eyes.

He smiled, faltered by her cute look. "Ok, I guess I have to save Mortal Kombat for another day." He rubbed her fingers. "But, we will stop by Magnolia's for some apple pie and hot chocolate. Deal?" He extended his pinky finger.

She smiled. "Deal."

The sound of the bell alerted anyone in the room that there were guest. According to the sign at the entrance, they must take off their shoes and wear slippers, unless they have socks. Lily followed instruction as she knew the routine before entering the building. Lincoln sat on the floor, taking off his shoes in search of some spare slippers. He managed to find some that fit. Lily scurried to the hallway where there was an open space. Lincoln dusted himself off and followed Lily.

Upon entering, he saw a grand eighty-eight keys piano. Looking at its design, he knew it was antique. Lily gave him and his sisters a brief history on pianos. She told them that their music teacher acquired it from Japan during her days as a violinist. She performed throughout many venues in Japan, Europe, and parts of the United States. The piano was a gift when she did her farewell victory tour. Lincoln was amazed of Lily's articulation of her memory. Lily couldn't stop talking about her music teacher. Even Lincoln was getting curious of the music teacher that he only knew as Ms. Kaiou.

"Hajimemashite." Lily told her music teacher before bowing to her. She tugged her skirt before running and hugging her. "Welcome," said her teacher as she return her hug. "Right now, I am getting the chords and the notes set up. Why not you have a seat and we get things set up. Okay?"

"Hai," responded Lily gleefully as she ran to her seat. Lincoln observed his surroundings. He saw a few bandstands. A few instruments from the woodwind and string family. There was a long whiteboard of musical notes and lists of songs, depending on the measures. He saw images of composers such as Beethoven and Bach. As he observed, he saw photos and plenty awards of the teacher's accomplishment. Many of which coming from Japan, like Lily said.

"Oh, Lily. You didn't tell me you were having a guest." The older woman smiled. Lincoln saw her modesty. She dusted herself off from the chalk in her hand. She was very beautiful and elegant in his mind. She was wearing a crimson sweater with a pearl necklace. She was wearing a plaid dress that stopped to her knee. She was wearing stockings. She was barefooted, but judging her feet, they were dainty. Her hair extended to her shoulders. It was wavy, reminded Lincoln of a curvy, grassy hill. Her scent was dashing, a hint of lilac, if he recalled. He spent too much time admiring the beauty that her cough interrupted him. He smiled while embarrassed. "Sorry," he said. "Sometimes, I can easily zone out."

She in return laughed as well. "That is okay. I am teacher. We have those moments." She extended her hand. "My name is Ms. Michelle Kaiou. But, you can call me Ms. Kaiou or Ms. Michelle."

They briefly exchanged laughs before Lincoln extended his hand. "Where are my manners? I am sorry. My name is Lincoln Loud." He pointed to Lily. "That lovely young gifted genius is my sister."

She smiled at Lily before returning to Lincoln. "And what a genius she is. So, you are the mighty handsome brother she kept telling me about."

He blushed. "You are giving me too much compliment. I am not that dashing."

Lily interjected, which also made her fall out of her seat. "No, big brother. You are very handsome. I keep telling her that you will come and watch me play."

"She is right, Lincoln. Lily, here, has talked about you extensively. She really wants to hear her play."

He chuckled. "Well, I made a deal with the lad." He scanned around the place, noticing the sparse emptiness. "Should we expect other students?"

"Oh," she said while putting her sheet music on the bandstand. "This is my advanced class. You see Lily is at an age in which my other students are yet to perform. Her talents are very orchestra worthy and piano worthy. I am seriously encouraging her parents to enroll her in a special school when she reaches the first grade. Her skills needs to be seen."

He was taken aback. He didn't think a Loud sibling could receive such a compliment. He winked at Lily. "Seems like somebody deserves a treat after this." Lily clapped her hands in glee.

Michelle coughed, making him and Lily silent. "As I was saying. She is the only one that can reach heights like that. So, here she is alone. I am happy that she brought a handsome gentleman to watch her perform." She turned to Lily. "Pull out your violin and turned to Janacek's Sinfonietta." She retrieved her violin. "I will accompany you." She extended her hand to Lincoln. "Have a seat, if you like."

"Sure," said Lincoln as he found a seat across from the girls.

"On my count," said Michelle. Lincoln watched as Michelle and Lily began performing their song at hand. His eyes widened by watching his sister play with those notes. This was a contrast for the Lily he knew would throw temper tantrums and listened to heavy dubstep on her phone. However, seeing her sister beautifully played the woodwind instrument was astounding. He drifted away from Lily to concentrate on her teacher. Her eyes were closed, allowing her fingers to waver and lead her to the right notes. He had never heard a violin wonderfully and beautifully played. If he could describe it, he felt like a carefree wind swaying into the depths of Bohemian and beyond. He gasped, shortness of breath as he was bewitched by enchanting beauty of her playing. For a brief moment, enchanting beauty of Michelle.

He immediately shook those thoughts. The girls were finished with the first set. "That was very good, Lily," she told Lily as she clapped. "You did a marvelous job. However, on the last measure, you were a little too fast."

She rubbed the back of her forehead. "Sorry, Ms. Kaiou, I was too excited to see my big brother." She stuck her tongue out and winked at Lincoln.

"Okay," she told Lily. "Now, for the rest of the time, I want you to practice your scales on your clarinet. Is that fine?"

"Hmm-hmm," she confirmed as she put up her violin and reached for the clarinet beside her.

"Practice these measures for awhile until you are finished," said Michelle.

"Yes, ma'am," said Lily.

Michelle sat behind Lily as she watched and critique her skills. Lincoln was grateful to his sister involved in what she loves. It made him think of his art. Last week, Lincoln was a part of the comic book convention in Detroit. He and Clyde entered a contest for best amateur comic. The winner of the competition had an opportunity of being displayed in the American edition of Shonen Jump. Unfortunately, their Ace Savvy parody didn't place in the top three. Nevertheless, their comic did receive honorable mention. Their comic was presented on the comic book convention's website. That gave he and Clyde hope as they added it to their resume on their DeviantArt account.

Lincoln was proud of his talents, but he couldn't compare to the talents of Lily. She was the talk of the Loud family at this time. There weren't favorites, but he was excited for Lily. And he should for he was her big brother. The remainder of the time, he recorded her performance on his cell phone. Every now and again, he took glances at Michelle.

He told Lily to wait on him as he put on his shoes. She continued jumping at the door as she was ready to head to Magnolia's. He laughed as she was more anticipated than he was. Once he put on his shoe, he was ready to go. Michelle walked from behind him.

"Thank you for coming, Lincoln," she said while keeping her arms folded. Her face was blushed as if she wanted to say more, but was hesitant to do so.

"No problem at all, Ms. Michelle," said Lincoln. "Thank you for taking care of my sister. I am well pleased to see her results coming from this work of art."

She bowed, laughing in the process. "You are too kind, Lincoln. I am grateful. I am."

"Don't mention it," he said. He was turning to the door. "Well, I see you again next time. Hopefully, I can learn a trick or a trade from you guys."

"You should," she said. "It is never too late to play an instrument."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, but as you can see, can't make Lily wait any longer."

"Okay, Lincoln. Come back soon," she said.

Lincoln bowed to Michelle. He grabbed Lily's hand as they were going out of the door.

"Lincoln!"

He turned around. "What is it?"

She looked away with a flushed face. "Just be careful in the cold and look out for Lily, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am." He and Lily waved to her goodbye before stepping out of the music school. He continued holding Lily's hand as they made their way to Magnolia's.


The phone woke Lincoln. The luminous hands of his clock pointed to a little after two in the morning. The room was dark, with the exception of his lava lamp. He made a note to get rid of it and donate it to someone or someplace. He fixated his eyes. He knew that the only person calling at this hour was Michelle. And the only person who would keep the phone ringing until he answered. Since that dreadful encounter at the mansion, Lincoln avoid her calls. From the time he left the manor until his bedtime, she continued calling and messaging him, neither of which he answered or read.

He sat up with a tremendous headache. His face flushed and his eyes were dry. He knew that it came from the many hours of crying. He didn't tell his parents or his siblings of his crying. He explained that he was in "one of those moods."

He turned and put his feet on the floor. He continued seeing his cell phone luminated into the room. Eventually, he would have to pick it up unless he wanted to awake his sleeping family. He scratched under his arms and made his way to the phone.

He didn't feel inclined to answer and he had every right. However, there were spots for Michelle that were still soft. He answered.

There was a pregnant silence following his answering. He heard sniffling from the other line. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Hello," said Lincoln. There was silence, but the sniffling confirmed it was Michelle.

"Hello," said Lincoln again with a little frustration in his voice. Once again, there was silence.

"Listen, Michelle. If we are going to do this, then I am hanging up. Goodbye," said Lincoln.

"Wait," she said. There were some sniffling followed by sobs. Lincoln hear the crackling on the phone. "I want to talk, darling. I want to see you."

"There isn't nothing to talk or see. You lied to me."

"Listen, please. I just need a few minutes. Please, darling."

"In those few minutes between saying those haughty words and the passion filled sex we had, why did we have that time to talk."

"I am sorry."

"Words, just words for what you did to me."

"Please, Lincoln," she said. "Just hear me out. Can we talk?"

He balled his fist. Hearing her crying voice was bringing tears in his eyes. There was a time where it did work. The nights he spent wiping away her tears. Moments he thought that were important to him.

"If you want to talk, fine," he said. "Where are you?"

"Around the corner from your house," she told him.

He sighed loudly. "I will be out there in a few minutes."

"Thank you, darling. I love you."

He hung up the phone.

Chapter Text

The weatherman predicted torrential rainfall approaching our area. He predicted that it could last through the weekend. He warned us to stay dry and shelter ourselves from the approaching storm. I wish if he knew of the thunderstorm that was brewing in my mind. The gust of wind, bringing potential damage to the synapses of my brain; led by losing control as I make an impact upon those who are caught in my wrath. Can the weatherman predict the magnitude of the damage surging in the heavy depths of my brain? Can he warn the others to prepare for the damage? The damage that is being down to my weeping heart; to my conscience; and to this very vehicle whose tires I have slashed?

Along with using my twelve-inch blade to slash the bastard's tires. I even decorated it in nail polish. I smashed a brick through his windshield. To complete the disaster, I clogged his gas tank with sugar. I don't think the bastard won't be using his vehicle to subdue any wives anytime soon.

I could have gone longer. I even had the crowbar and the poor man's machete to complete. I couldn't. My hands were grasped by the only person I have in my corner right now, my son.

His pleading eyes addresses the same pain. He tells me to stop. It is not worth it. He reaches his hand. I know what he wants. I grip onto it because that is the only source of power I feel I have left. The bastard took everything else of mine, except for myself. Tears escape and drop to the ground. I hope there are hidden roses growing from the concrete where my tears fall. Seeping into the cracks and make something from this horrid world.

Lincoln is still there. His hand still in reach. I still grip the gun as I want to further damage the vehicle and among other things. I want to hurt, no, kill this son-of-a-bitch for what he has done to me. I take sharp breaths, biting my lips as I am tasting blood. Something in which I want to taste, but from the man. But from the man….

But from the man who has decided to shit in my kennel. The man who decided to sleep with my wife. The man who has taken his seed in my wife, the love of my life, time after time after time. And what is worst, the bastard has done in my own damn bed. In the very house where I have slept. In the very house where my children live. What kind of disrespectful prick do such a thing? Anger brews. The weatherman needs to tell the people of this town to take cover. For I want to precipitate some shells onto the motherfucker.

Lincoln still stands there. He gives me such a pitiful look. I feel sorry for the kid. I know he doesn't like what is going on. But, he doesn't understand what hardship I am going through. He doesn't know when something you love and cherish gets taken away like it is nothing. Just crumpled leaves that tears and tears until there is nothing more to tear. I kind of smile at that point. I mean, I feel nothing. Well, I am kind of stoned. Learning of your wife's infidelity can make a man ingest things to kill the pain. I wonder how she felt taking in another man's pride that wasn't mine. Did she think of me? Did she think of the children? Did she think of the consequences that come every single fucking time before bathing herself in another man's scent?

I still have my hands tightly grip on the poor man's machete. Lincoln is still holding his hands out.

"Give it to me, Dad." He tells me. This time, he edges forward. He takes cautious steps. He is shaking and I know he scared. He should be scared. I am trembling because of the actions that are occurring at this point in time. My feet are planted. My mind is a mess. At any moment, the sirens will be coming. I can picture the howling of its pitchy sound along with its blue and white. It still doesn't compare the sounds of womanly moans calling out the name that doesn't belong to you.

"Give me the gun, Dad." He says again. His voice straining, begging me. I am fortunate that he is my only kin seeing this. He is a boy. I think he can handle more than my daughters. They wouldn't understand. I hope they don't. They don't need to see that their father doing a deed that may as well fry me. I keep my grip on the gun. I turn away from my son. I stare into the depths of the driveway. I see the wind drifting from the trees. The toys that remind me of innocence. I have a toy in my hand. A toy that can pack a powerful punch. I look to the front porch where I see red dripping to the concrete.

Beside the jump ropes and the bicycle, I see the bastard grabbing holding to his chest, extending his hand for mercy. The agonal breathing lets me know there isn't much time left.

Rita is very fortunate to not have been there. For a bullet could have cracked or cascaded her into a faded memory; just like our beloved past.

The bastard pleads with me. He begs for mercy. He wants to apologize for the pain he has cost. Lincoln still cries out to me to let go of the gun. I can hear his tears. I can hear his wails. He screams that he knows about his mother. He doesn't want to lose his father.

"Mom is already lost, Dad. I don't want to lose you either," he says to me in a strained voice. "It isn't worth it, Dad. You are more than that. We love you and that's what matters. Don't lose your soul for that man. Him of all people." He is walking forward. "I can hear them coming. Please, let go of the gun." I don't look. My finger is slowly gripping on the trigger. My finger is slowly edging at the stairs. My eyes is wincing from the sweat that poured from my aching head. The thunderstorm is slowly approaching. I turn to the eyes of my own son. He needs to take shelter.

I cock my gun.

"Dad?"

I began to make my aim.

"Dad?"

I close my eyes.

"Dad!"

Then the sound of thunder.

I still love my husband, but I often feel a disconnect with him.

Yet I still love her.

Does he perform better than I? I can take you into the deeper parts of heaven.

Yet I still love her.

This doesn't compare to him. I love my husband, but I love how you make feel.

Yet I still love her.

Run away with me. Start a new life and get away from what's holding you down. The children will be alright without you. They have a father that can provide. You deserve the best. Something much better than what is here.

Yet I still love her.

You make me feel pleasure in many ways. Nowhere near my husband. Despite loving him, I don't feel that kind of love like I have for you. I am really starting to fall deeper into you.

Yet I still love her.

My ring slowly slips from my finger. It lands on the grass. Blood continues to spill. I hear my son screaming. I let out a smile.

Then another sound of thunder.

Chapter Text

he school bus pulled to a stop. He normally never took the bus, but the heavy snow obligated him to take his only option. He wasn't alone. He and his girlfriend of six months, Ronnie Anne Santiago, was with him. He allowed her to get off of the bus first, which was the gentleman thing to do, he thought. After he stepped onto the crunchy ice, the bus pulled away to parts unknown. He reached into his backpack for a scarf. He even gave Ronnie Anne his spare. She was quiet but nodded her head as a sign of thanks. They held hands, more for the warmth than out of infatuation. It was a gentle calmness between the pair. A calmness that was more recent than in the past. The red dusk shined brightly as it sank into the horizon. Lincoln knew that he didn't have long to stay at Ronnie Anne's, but she insisted on his being there.

She told him that her parents weren't going to be at home. Her father was pulling a double shift at his job and her mother worked nights at the hospital. Bobby was out of the country doing his usual expedition. Lincoln got used to the normalcy of Ronnie Anne being alone. At her young and tender age, she was learning quickly to take care of herself. He watched her bathed whatever warmth she could get from the sun. She explained the Latina women tend to get light in the colder months. He didn't fret nor judged, but quietly shook his head as they made their way to their neighborhood.

As they crossed the street, he caught sight of Magnolia's diner. The truck was unloading the fish, the beef, and vegetables. He knew the owner was getting her weekly supplies. From the docks and farms to the hungry mouths of the customers, everyone was meeting their purpose from the beginning to the end. He knew at some point, he, too, would park himself into the diner to get his usual. But not tonight, Ronnie Anne wanted him to eat cookies and drink tea. It was the first in awhile since they have been together.

"Ronnie Anne," whispered Lincoln.

"What's the matter," questioned Ronnie Anne.

"You're hurting my hand."

Ronnie Anne looked surprised. She loosened the grips on her hands. "Sorry about that, Linc. Just...just got a lot on my mind."

Ronnie Anne didn't say anything further. She continued holding his palms as they were approaching the sidewalk of her street. Lincoln looked away from his girlfriend and instead looked at the surrounding neighborhood as the snow blanketed the streets. The weatherman already predicted more snow coming to the Royal Woods suburb in the next few hours. Lincoln definitely knew he couldn't stay long, but Ronnie Anne insisted. Lately, he has been getting a strange aura from her. He wasn't sure how it began, but the more he spend time with her, the further apart he wanted to be from her.

Ronnie Anne made a small joke and the couple shared a good laugh before making their way to the front door. She let go of Lincoln's hand to get the keys from her sweater. She unlocked the door. She allowed Lincoln entry first. He put his backpack at the usual spot and she continued upstairs. She told Lincoln to go into the kitchen. She said that the cookies were ready. She just had to get the tea prepared.

Lincoln sat at the kitchen table. He took off his jacket and positioned it on his seat. He kept a calm demeanor. It wasn't his first time being at the Santiago residence. It was not even his first time the couple was alone. However, the pit of his stomach was churning harshly. The moment he got on the school bus he was feeling that way. He thought it would pass, but it remained. Even as he got further near her residence, he started to feel pressure on his brain. It was like something was warning him, telling him he shouldn't be there. He needed to leave while he had the chance. Even if he followed his gut, Ronnie Anne was already in the kitchen.

She kept her usual, trademark demeanor. She went into the cabinet. She pulled out tea bags. She asked if Lincoln was fine with microwaved water instead of the stove. He shrugged of the indifference. She pulled the cookies from the stove. She mentioned her mother kept them in moderate heat so it will be warm for them when they returned.

She got plates. Lincoln wanted to help, but she insisted that was fine without him. She came around Lincoln and pecked him on the cheek. Lincoln kept an eye closed. Her kiss was jagged. He felt the dry lip skin scraping his cheek. The coolness of her saliva. He felt a shiver down his spine. She kissed him again. She told him that she was going to get something from upstairs. She told him to wait.

A few minutes later, Ronnie Anne came back with a small brown grocery bag. Lincoln raised his eyebrow when he heard a loud ping hitting the kitchen counter where she placed it. She got the water from the microwave and poured it into two cups. She put the tea bags in there as well. She hummed an unfamiliar tune as she was putting her items on a tray. She turned around and put the items on the table. She also turned around and grabbed the grocery bag.

Lincoln frowned as she pulled out items that didn't match the entree for afternoon dessert.

Leave!

There was a small hammer, a pair of pliers, a small paper clip, a candle, and some matches. She pulled each one while carrying her tune. The more she pulled, the slower and deeper the tune.

Leave!

He didn't questioned it. He tried convincing himself that Ronnie Anne's reason of inviting him was to do a project. He smiled to keep the mood. As he reached for the cookie, Ronnie Anne instantly slapped his hand.

"The tea is for later." Lincoln saw her face. Her eyebrows were furrowed, narrowing to anger. There were rare moments in which Ronnie Anne carried that demeanor. When something of hers was stolen, when she took lunch money from other students, or someone made her mad. She was very high strung, so it didn't faze Lincoln, but he knew the moment she gripped her hands on the hammer, something was not right.

Leave!

"I have been worried about you, Lincoln," she spoke in a calm tone. Lincoln kept his eye on the hammer. "You have been very distant with me."

"Distant," retorted Lincoln. He slowly pulled an inch from the chair. He took calm breaths. "I don't know what you are talking about. I didn't know we were having this issue." He let out a small nervous laugh. "You know if there were problems, I will tell you."

She kept her grip on the hammer. She relaxed a little. "Of course, you will. You are my boyfriend."

Lincoln was too focused on her lips and her hammer that he didn't see her other hand making contact with his nose. He was completely off guard as he made contact with the floor. Dazed and hearing ringing noises, Ronnie Anne came and return with another punch.

"You are my boyfriend. You will tell me anything and everything."

She made another punch to his nose. This punch came back with blood on Ronnie Anne's hand.

She walked away and went to a drawer. She returned with a wooden spoon and forcefully put it in his mouth. His eyes widened and he began screaming his muffle cries as she got on top of him. She sat on top of his chest. She grabbed on his arms. He was unable to see, but he felt the strong grips on his hand. Ronnie Anne put his hand on the seat. She grabbed the hammer and held it high as she could before slamming it to his hand. The impact made him cry in agony. She reached for the hammer and made contact with his hand again.

"You committed a sin, Lincoln," she said angrily. "Therefore you must be punished."

She grabbed his middle finger of his hand. She reached for the hammer and made contact with his middle finger. He let out another scream before she got off of him. Lincoln quickly went to his hand as he cried over the pain.

"You are my boyfriend. If I catch you with anybody else, I am coming for that thick brain," she said before throwing the hammer away from her sight.

Ronnie Anne grabbed the match and lit it. She then reached for the paper clip and the pliers. She put the match on the end of the paper clip. She discarded the match and took Lincoln's hand. She saw the impact of her punches as blood was dripping from his nose. She also saw the discoloration of his nose. She knew that he had a broken finger. She sighed as she relaxed from her earlier demeanor.

"Is there blood coming from your fingernail," she asked. Knowing he wasn't going to answer, she took his finger and poked a hole through the nail with the paper clip. He winced in the pain. He saw as blood was dripping through his fingernail. She kept it up so the blood could drain. Blood spilled from the nail to down his hand.

"Why would you do this, Ronnie Anne," questioned Lincoln. He didn't want to be there. He wanted to go home. He wanted nothing to do with her. She took him by his face and gave him a small peck on his lips.

"Because I love you," she said. "That is why I do this to you. To let you know your place and where you belong in my place." She went back to the counter to grab a wet towel. She gave it to him. While he was cleaning himself, she was setting up for their tea and cookies.

Chapter Text

Since I am unpopular….I will find ways to get your attention, Lincoln Loud.

Tomoko waited until the family had retired to their rooms for her next nightly act. She told the Loud family that she was going to her room after dinner. She wanted to get some studying done before school in the morning. Although they wanted her to participate in family game night, but they understood her reasons. They waved to her good night before they returned to the living room. As soon as she made it to the stairs, she gasped in excitement. She trembled as fluids were secreting to her legs. How long were they were going to keep me in there. This vibrator is killing me. Thank God I used my sneezes to cover my moans. All staring at me was driving me crazy. Her mouth watered as she struggled to make her way to Lincoln's bedroom. Upon arrival, she dropped to her knees. She tugged to her pants harshly for the impending climax. She turned on the radio to cover her climax. "Longview," played by Green Day, appropriated her cause.

After her session, she went into Lincoln's closet where she kept her suitcases. Instead of changing into another pair of panties, she reached for Lincoln's underwear. Her eyes widened as she wore the briefs of her "affection." As she checked herself out in the mirror, she noticed something in the far corner of the closet. She walked to it and saw something that made her excited and somewhat aroused.

It was near ten o'clock in the evening where she stepped out into the hallway. She scanned the area to make sure that no one was awake. She didn't see any lights coming from the rooms. She was in the clear. It was her, her exhibitions, and Lincoln's Ace Savvy cosplay costume.

Tomoko was aware of Lincoln's fandom of Ace Savvy. She thought it was cute as a boy is fascinated in comics like herself. Unlike Lincoln, she wasn't ready to admit the perverted, lecherous side of her ero-manga. She pondered on the troves of hentai/anime she left at home. She hoped that her brother, Tomoki, or her parents didn't find it. She scoffed as they wouldn't have the nerve to investigate the room. If not for the lack of trust, but the scent of womanhood.

Tomoko touched her cape, feeling its soft texture. The clothes were too small for her, which suited her as she felt its tightness. Feeling the leotard craving into her vagina and the friction of her nipples excited the aroused Tomoko. She took deep breaths as she prepared for her next mission.

She knew Lincoln was a heavy sleeper. On some nights, she spied on him in his temporary room in the basement. She took notes. By notes, it was really crude drawings of her doing lewd things to Lincoln. As much as she wanted to feel guilty, she thought that he was of age to receive training. Also, it wasn't everyday he would get it from a foreign girl, she thought devilishly.

"Phew," she sighed. "My mind is so stuck on dicks I can't concentrate at all," she snickered as she tried to get back to the matter at hand.

She took careful steps as she made her way to the basement. Her heart beated with much momentum as she knew she was sneaking into Lincoln's room with another night of exhibitionism. As she mentioned to herself earlier that night, her plan was to go into Lincoln's room naked. However, wearing Lincoln's costume made her have other plans.

"I am going to masturbate in front of Lincoln in his costume," she said to herself as she made her way to Lincoln's door. She slowly turned the knob and the awkward otaku entered the basement.

It was dark inside of the basement, with the exception of the moonlight shining. As if the angels were talking to her, the moonlight was shining onto Lincoln's bed. She smiled as she made her way to him. He was sleeping. He wasn't sleeping in his blanket. She covered her laughter as he was sleeping with his stuffed bunny. She felt the yearning from her loins, but maintain her composure. She wanted to rub his hair. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to do many things to take away his innocence. She shivered when she saw his shorts below his butt and his shirt above his navel.

She licked her lips as well as beginning to rub herself. From her position, it appeared that Lincoln was taking care of his own business. She hoped that it was her imagination for she wanted to teach him to do naughty things.

She peered over to Lincoln and whispered to his ear. "I am going to make sure that I will make you mine for sure."

She reached over to her groin and began masturbating to Lincoln.

Since I am unpopular...I am going to find ways to get your attention, Lincoln Loud, to be continued. Until next time.

Chapter Text

The enchanting melody of Greensleeves soothed the chimes as the wind blew onto the back porch. The wind chime was imported. His mother got it from her travels to Japan. Lincoln found it amazing of the opportunities her job allows his mother to venture into different parts of the world. Her eyes gazed with delight, basked in the moment of awaiting opportunism. This was an important step in her life. With all of her children attending school, the part-time job and full time housewife was the thing of the past. She was doing things that she was unable to do because of her eleven children and her marriage. Although important to his mother, Lincoln knew that his mother wore a different mask whenever she was at work. The mask of a mother and the mask of a businesswoman.

The mask of a businesswoman wasn't a woman who wore sweatpants, drove the van to roller derby games, or picked them up from a girl scout meeting. It was wearing expensive makeup, wearing a revealing, but formal suit. Her conservation pieces were different. There wasn't any school fee talk, booster club talk, or talks over the dinner table. Her walk, her swagger, everything about his mother was different when she was at work.

Rita Loud was a career woman and was proud of her profession. It wasn't until a few weeks ago when Lincoln learned of his mother's new job. She was a representative of a firm that was heavily invested in perfume. With a background in writing, she used her creative skills of her speaking and tone to convince the employer to give Rita Loud an opportunity. And what an opportunity the employer gave her.

No longer living paycheck to paycheck, her job allowed security, benefits, and renovations of any kind for the Loud family. Luna could afford the rare 1968 Jimi Hendrix Gibson guitar in her collection. Lisa was able to afford plutonium for her experiments. Lola can have the Grace Kelly wardrobe of her dreams. Lynn, Sr. and Rita were able to have vacation and alone time. The siblings were benefiting. Lincoln was happy. He didn't want much, just grateful to see his mother return her beaming smile.

Lincoln admired her smile. It was a smile of comfort, of assurance. He knew the warmth in his heart reminded him that his mother was resourceful, faithful, reliable, and responsible.

"Lincoln, are you okay?" Lincoln returned to the matter at hand. His eyes still watching the Greensleeves chime dwindling from place to place. He closed his eyes as he felt a woman's touch lightly scraping his stomach. He didn't want to look as the woman took pecks at his stomach as she rustled his shirt to his neck.

"Take it off for me," said the woman. "You will be okay. It is okay to be nervous. It is okay to feel this way. When you love someone, you do these things. Understand?" He nodded his head. It wasn't a confirmation of acceptance, but out of fear of retaliation. He took off his shirt. The cool breeze wavering over his chest. He shivered. Spring has yet to blossom, leaving nips of winter. She let out a small moan as she licked his nipples. Her hands pressing hard on his hips. He squirmed as he knew her hand was leading to his pants. She took her hand and unbuttoned his pants.

"Shh," she said very calmly. "I won't hurt you, honey. I will never do that. Just relax. Please, baby. You know I just want you to understand what I do to make people happy."

He felt his boxers and his jeans sliding down his pants. Winter's wind capturing the sweat of nervousness. He felt his penis arousing as her tender hands were cradling it gently.

"I can tell you are a novice to this," she said while blowing onto his dick. "Your father hasn't talked to you yet on the talk. Hasn't he?" She let out a smile. "Well, sometimes it is a woman's job to pick up a man's slack." He was ticklish as her blonde hair slide down to his pelvis. She blew into his penis once more before slowly entering into her mouth. He curled his toes, let out a yelp before feeling the soft palms on his stomach.

"Shh! We don't want the others to know," she calmly warned him. "People aren't going to understand the dynamic on what we are doing. They may think it is strange."

Lincoln kept quiet. The confusion of the situation and seeing the woman rubbing his dick with her cheek was something Lincoln never or didn't experience.

"You see, people are going to think I am doing this because I enjoy lust," she said. "Well, I do. But, I am training you, dear."

"Training me," he retorted. He winced as she wrapped her palm around his dick. She stroked the shaft gently. She didn't want him to climax immediately. Her goal was to train his dick on ejaculation on her watch.

"That's right, dear," said the woman. "What you are we called in the business world, is potential." She stroked lightly, using her spare hand to fondle his testicles. She gave a slight lick before returning to playing with his dick. "You are useful for this job. There are many people who will negotiate deals for our company. Of course, it comes with a price."

"Why me," he questioned with confusion on his brain.

"Dear, you are useful," she said before sighing. She took another breath. "The thing is is that you are now aware of the things I do for this job. You caught me and my boss in the act. However, be grateful that my boss is a merciful one." She laughed. "She really has a liking of you. However, she thinks it is best to let the mother gets first pick of fresh fruit."

Lincoln titled his head as his mother hastened her stroke. He let out a moan. He covered his mouth in embarrassment. His mother was pleased.

"Moan quietly, dear," said his mother. "Remember we are not a home, but at an onsen. These guests get really finicky when people do stuff like this in the day."

"Then, why are we doing this," questioned Lincoln.

"Because, dear. My boss wants to see you in her manor, tonight," said his mother. "My boss enjoys the company of men and women, but isn't a fan of virgins. To her, she wants someone that she can enjoy, but doesn't have to put in too much work. It's no fun when they are novice." She said as she took another lick to his dick. "Your dick is quite dirty. Have you been cleaning yourself?"

"Of course, I have, mother," cried Lincoln. "In fact, I took a shower before...augh...augh…" Lincoln winced as his dick entered his mother's mouth. Rita thrusted up and down, making bobbing noises. She nibbled on his phallus, while licking his peehole. He felt the moist, hot saliva sliding down his dick. He felt a burst of energy coming from his testicles.

"Mom," he cried. "I am feeling strange. I am feeling funny. Mom, please, this is weird."

"It's okay, dear," she said in between strokes. "Let the good waves come out. It will feel good."

She returned to his dick as she bobbed faster and faster. "Look at me, Lincoln," she said. "Look at me as you come in my mouth."

"Mom, I don't know. This feels weird. Mom, I am going to pee. I don't know." He protested. He was in anguish. Amidst the confusion, he shivered as he felt the warm sensation emptying from his testicles and into his mother's mouth. She put her finger around his dick, welcoming the come into her mouth. She stroked at each spurt until the pleasure ceased.

Lincoln ebbed in the afterglow. His legs were twitching. His pelvis was feeling sore. His dick twitched until it calm down. His mother came next to him. She was swishing around his semen. He saw as she continued until she swallowed.

"Your come is so thick and rich," she cried. "I didn't think a teenager could have such rich semen. The boss is going to be happy." She then grinned at she rubbed the folds of her pussy. "I am, however, quite happy that I can be the first to take the virginity of my only son."

She got up and return to his dick. She squated and shifted herself to situate the position of her pussy to his dick.

"Mom," he groaned. "Please don't do this. You don't have to do this."

She smiled. "I shall. One, you are my son. Two, you belong to me. Three, you work with me and I promise all of your dreams will come true." She shifted her pussy with his dick. Lincoln yelped the moment it made contact with her pussy. She moaned in excitement. "Your dick is thick. I am glad I got it before any girl did."

She gyrated her hips, situating herself to take advantage of Lincoln's virginity. "These big wigs overseas are tough cookies, Lincoln. I need somebody like you to work with me. I can't help but to be thankful that it is you that found out. I rather be you than anybody else."

She positioned herself to put her body on top of Lincoln's. "There, there. Mommy is here. I won't leave you. I won't forsake you. I will stand by yourself forever, baby. I love you, dear. I am glad that you are back where you belong. How does it feel returning back to your birthplace?"

Lincoln felt the folds of her pussy tightening. It was hot, but pleasurable. However, he was too prideful to admit it.

"Doesn't it feel good as we bond as mother and son," she questioned as she continued thrusting. "Feel free to empty out your seed at any time."

Lincoln felt his dick tightening and hardening, going deeper into the womb. Lincoln saw the eyes of his mother rolled back. Her breath became heavier, inciting her to give Lincoln a kiss. Lincoln tasted his mother, along with the contents of his semen and her saliva. She pried his tongue, making him swallow.

"I can't anymore," she said. "Empty out your contents. Empty out all of your worries. For now on, mommy is going to take care of everything. My boss made sure of it. You will be set for the rest of your life." She tightened herself and pushed a final thrust to LIncoln. "Now come for me. Come for your mother, sweetie."

He lost his voice. He crackled as he released his sperm inside of his mouth. The heaviness of her body, the stickiness of their contents was getting to the best of him. He panted loudly as he continued spurting inside of his mother.

"I can feel your love entering me," she cried while rubbing her button. "It is like liquid gold entering into my very body. You make your mother very proud. I am happy for you. I love you, Lincoln."

He gave all of the strength he could. His body gave out. He felt like gelatin. Rita got from Lincoln. His semen was dripping from her leg. Her face had a glow and she was smitten with the encounter. She picked up her son and returned to the hotel room.

She placed him on the bed. She knew that he was drifting into slumber. She reminded herself to wake him in a few hours so he could take a shower. Her boss was expecting them later that night.

Once she tucked him in, she lied in bed next to them. She kissed him on the cheek before cuddling with him. She continued kissing his hair before falling into slumber herself.

Her final thoughts were the plans that were needed to expand the perfume business, her and Lincoln's usefulness with the boss and her fellow clients. She took a look at their passports and their plane tickets. It wasn't long until they were being sent to Sapporo for business. She was happy that her husband didn't mind Lincoln going with her. The summer gave her ample amount of time without disturbing his education. Overall, she was grateful to be with her son.

And that is something Rita wouldn't trade for the world.

Chapter Text

The rain barely touched his skin, but it had acknowledged him that he was still breathing. He was still feeling. The wetness absorbed into the skin like it was texture, spreading until there was nowhere else to go. Those were the first words he wrote on his paper for his English class. He was fortunate that his teacher allowed him and his class an opportunity to free write. Freewriting was more of his schtick. It openly gave him the opportunity to express himself without the constructs of requirements of certain essays. He tapped his pen, sticking at a pause. His mind was wandering off like the ink being released onto the ink paper. It too was absorbing into the paper like it was texture, spreading until there was nowhere else to go. He often faced the errors of his usage in contextual clues, sentence structures, and the like. However, he concluded in shrugged shoulders that those were his expressions and the results of the freewrite. He sighed on the notepad as he couldn't further think of nothing more to say. He allowed his ink to do the talking on the notepad until he heard the final bell.

He turned whatever he had to the professor. The furrowed eyebrows and the smug look from her bifocal lenses depicted that he was already facing a remedial class during his spring break. It mattered not for he had planned to drop the class before the wicked bitch of the west reported this in her gradebook. He shrugged his shoulders as he walked to the hallway and headed towards the front door.

He was supposed to be in his Calculus class, but hyperbole and antiderivatives didn't matter anymore. Nothing wasn't mattering anymore. He, no, longer wanted to succumb to the pressures of his adolescence.

He just wanted to go home.

He reached into his backpack. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the things that were contained in there. He wasn't ready. It was too soon. So much was consuming in his young mind that he couldn't believe of the callous decision he was making.

But, in his point of view, what other choice was there? His biological father separated from his adoptive father a couple of years ago. A devastating blow to the young, fragile child. It wasn't easier when both parents were going through a custody battle. Words were exchanged, feelings were hurt. Scars, nothing but scars to numb Clyde's pain through the threshold of stress. At least the blades were enough to numb the pain. Even so, the release of exposing the flesh can only last so long.

September 25th was the date where he had planned for the day of his final ascent. Three reason he had chosen this date: the day of his parents' anniversary, the day of his parents' divorce, and the day when his adoptive father took his final sip of wine before becoming spilling his heart onto the pavement. He could never forget the phone call. Hollow like the bullet his father used through his heart. He was heartbroken. Clyde was heartbroken. His biological father also couldn't handle the pressure and resorted to the alcohol for comfort.

It has been four months since he had buried his father next to his adoptive father. The day of the funeral, a rainbow shined in the background. They were at peace.

He just wanted to go home.

A lemon iced tea and a bag of Skittles were his final meal. He needed money for bus fare and he left enough for Lincoln for the thanks. Lincoln was a good friend. A reliable confidant. But, he guessed there wasn't enough Lincoln could do to stop him. Everybody has a limit, he thought. And everyone has a day, he concluded.

He just wanted to go home.

He waited at the bus stop. He had his hand wrapped around his cell phone, choosing the final playlist of his mortal life. "Bittersweet Symphony" was his drug of choice. A drug he wanted to drown himself in as he planned to take the plunge. He wanted something that was quick, but the least painful. So, jumping was his choice.

The Ambassador Bridge was his choice. He just wanted to go home.

The bus arrived. He felt the surge of death as the door opened. The bus was the boat that was carrying him to his destination. He felt chills as he paid the bus driver. He took a glimpse and felt the reaper smiling as the bus took him to his destination.

Despite his fears of dying, he wasn't going to stop at his plan. He just wanted to go home. He didn't want to be alone. He just wanted to go home.

He just wanted to go home.

He was fortunate that he was one of a few people on the bus. He overlooked the woes and miseries that they were going through as he made his way to the back of the bus. He laid back on the seat, urging for a smoke. However, he was going to save that last smoke for the plunge.

He knew the bus wasn't going to take him further to the bridge. Or at least without raising suspicion. He nodded to the bus driver, unknowingly that he might have been the final witness of seeing Clyde alive.

He took off his shirt, allowing the autumn air to soothe his skin. It didn't matter of the cuts and scratches on his body. That, too, will fade away. He was going home, he kept telling himself. He hoped that God didn't mind his premature departure to the Golden Gates. He wasn't religious, but believe in a higher power. He silently prayed for forgiveness as he was going to be baptized in the waters of the Detroit River.

He wrapped his shirt around his waist. He hoped that his muscle t-shirt didn't ride up his back as he toted his backpack. He walked toward the bridge. He wasn't scared for he made it this far. If that didn't show any doubt, then he would have been in Calculus class.

He stopped at a vantage point suitable enough for his fall. He wanted it to be quick. He hoped that it was painless. Prior to his English class, he took a bottle of Vicodin. In a way, he was somewhat stoned.

He saw a few people passing by. Many were either taking pictures or walking with their family. He even saw a man walking his dog. Amazing how people can go on with their business. They don't even know I am about to end it.

"Excuse me."

Clyde heard the sound of a girl behind him. He turned around to see the girl in question. She had a pleasant smile. She had long brown hair that reached to her hips. Her eyes were a light shade of brown. She was wearing a short-sleeved pink undershirt underneath a slightly-dark fuschia sweater with a shooting star with a rainbow-colored tail falling toward the left, a matching fuschia headband, a loose purple pencil skirt, and black slipper shoes with white socks. Her braces reflected the sun and got into his eye. He covered it with his eye before she coughed to get his attention.

"Um, yes," asked Clyde. "How can I help you?"

She was hesitant, as if she wanted to speak, but may have regretted it beforehand. "I...I was...I was wondering if you could take a picture of me behind this post?" She reached into her satchel and pulled out a camera.

Clyde stared at the camera. He swallowed a lump in his throat. I am in the final moments of my life and she wants me to take a picture? Does my life have any meaning than this mess?

He wasn't going to say that the girl he just met. One thing about Clyde was he wasn't going to be rude when it came to women. He was find interesting that he was a teenager and never kissed a girl. He never even gone all the way with anyone. Now, he was staring at a girl and the only interaction he was getting was a snapshot of her?

He let out a small smile, cursing under his breath without getting the girl's attention.

"Sure." He took the camera. He asked her to take a suitable position. She leaned next to the lamppost. "Are you ready?"

"I am," she said.

As he was focusing on the camera, he noticed the certain shift in her position. As he was clicking the flash, the girl quickly climb the gate. Instinctively, Clyde jumped the camera and reached for the girl. The girl struggled as she tried to climb over the prevention net. Her face showed the same expression he felt earlier in his plan.

"I just want to go home," she screamed.

"Wait," he said, holding on to her sweatshirt, preventing from jumping. "What's going on?"

"I just want to go home," she screamed as she struggled. "I just want to go home."

With all of his might, Clyde grabbed her by the shoulders. He strained as he used the gate with his foot to position himself. After a few moments, he was able to get her. He landed on the ground. She struggled, kicking and screaming. He held her tightly until he felt he could subdue her.

"Let me go," she screamed.

"No, just relax for a second," he said.

"No, let me go. I don't want to be in this world anymore."

"Impossible," he interjected. "You must be crazy of pulling a stunt like that." Well, I was planning to do the same thing, but this is out of a surprise. "Listen, calm down. Just calm down and explain yourself."

"I want to go home," she screamed. "I want to go home."

"Me, too," he shouted. "I want to go home, too."

Instantly, the fragile girl calmed down. She turned her head to Clyde.

"I know what you were doing," he said. "I was...I was...I was planning what you were doing." He took a sigh before returning her sights on the girl.

"What is your name," he questioned the girl.

"My name is Mabel," she replied.

"Ok, Mabel," he answered. "My name is Clyde."

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," he responded. "If I let you go, you promise you won't jump or anything else?"

She shook her head in agreement.

"I want an answer!"

"Ok, ok."

Clyde released her from his grips. She got up from him and put her back against the gate. Clyde was panting. The rush was getting to him. Never did he expect something of the occurrence happening.

"Is there a place we can talk," asked Mabel as she stroked her hair.

"There is a diner at the foot of the bridge," said Clyde. "One thing."

"What?"

"We walk out this bridge together."

Chapter Text

He sat absentmindedly on the train as he awaited his stop at the station. He was fortunate to carry a jacket and didn't forget his key card and calling card this time. Transitioning in a new town is one thing. Transition in a different country is another. He wrapped his hands tightly on his textbook, which he was using earlier at cram school. The advisor he spoke with assigned him a class to practice his Japanese. He knew the duration of his stay, he would have to assimilate.

It wasn't easy, but it had to be done. What kind of explanation could he explain to his parents? His sisters? Her? Whimsically announcing to the entire family on game night that he was leaving for another country. He found a study abroad program in Japan. On the surface, it would acquaint him with the culture; great traveling experience; and opportunity to explore his future career as a comic book artist. His parents are surprised, but giving him their blessings. The many doe-eyes of the siblings cheering and wishing him much success. They gathered to hug and to further congratulate the white-haired child. All, but except one. She stared at him with pure grimace. Her nails breaking into the fibers of the couch; scratching down to point where her nails broke. She continued to the point where blood seeped into the couch. Pupils turned into darkness. Her mouth tucked in and skin turning paler. She nodded her head, getting up and joining the family with her candid smile.

The blonde gently brushed his cheek, leaving a cold patch from her tender lips. A shiver ran down his spine. For he knew when the others go to sleep, she would respond to her true feelings. Many, many times the blonde displayed her true feelings behind the closed doors of his bedroom.

Pitch black, darkness enveloped the room. The darkness enveloped her soul. Darkness consumed into the fray as he cried for help each and every time the pair were alone in his room. Sheets soaked from the terror; her body pressed against his. He tasted her flesh as she pried him open to further consummate something he didn't want. Every tear, every whine resulted in laughter, anger, mockery. Which one she was going to be that day? He could still feel her digits pressing to his spine. The soreness of his pelvis as he was forced to have sex with her. He grabbed his book tighter for his breathing was shallow. He whispered a prayer he wouldn't have another panic attack.

The last episode resulted in two days in the hospital. The blonde took advantage of his impairment. This occurred a few days before his departure to Japan.

He alleviated his thought. There shouldn't be any worry, he thought to himself. The pain, the tears, they are gone. He forced a smile to remind himself that he was free from the pain. He was free from her. But was he so sure. She is over thousands of miles away but can still feel her collar around his neck. The putrid collar she borrowed from their pet dog. Subservient was his role and his tasks were to be perfected, or face the consequences. She anticipated failure. That was why the task deemed difficult. In the end, there weren't any winners. Just losers who bathed and loathe in the misery. Many nights he prayed before his living God to sprout him wings to fly away.

The blonde put him in so much fear he couldn't tell his parents. His sisters. Clyde. Anyone? The one night he went to Ronnie Anne for advice was the same evening she welcomed him with a knife pressed to his throat. Her prowling eyes, her slothful lips thrived for the fear. She laughed in the silence as she felt the warm sensation coming from his blanket. She ridiculed him, belittled him, emasculated him. She grabbed him from the throat and put his nose into it. She forcefully made him inhale his excrements, tasting it and return it to her. While it was going on, she excited the ante and inserted the knife into his anus. Tears and mucus pouring away as she laughed in his fear.

The only thing useful about you, Linky, is your misery is my pleasure.

Cry for me, my dearest Lincoln. Your torture is the only thing good of you.

No one can understand you. You are nothing. Nothing, you hear me.

Let your tears quench my thirst. Let it serve as my lubrication.

Those were one of the many events he had to ordeal in his short life. Tears were escaping as he noticed his lips were bleeding. He was caught up in the moment that he didn't know he was biting his lip. He tasted blood. He bit down again for he, too, was familiar of the taste of his own blood.

The train stopped to his destination. The can of sardines opened, spreading out to the arteries of the station, continuing to fill until they reached their destination. Lincoln walked the line with exhausted salarymen, flirtatious, talkative gyarus, children clinging to their parents, and the like. They continued forward until they got to the street. Lincoln documented everything in his journal so he could get used to the pattern. He was no longer a mile from his school. He was no longer able to ride his bike or walk to his home or his favorite places to hang out. No more Clyde, no more Ronnie Anne, no more Mom and Dad, no more sisters.

Not even the blonde.

He stopped at the department store to purchase a comic book. He went to the pharmacy to pick up his medication. Afterwards, he stopped by a hole-in-a-wall where he had the privilege for their homemade vegetable and shrimp dumplings. He humbly greeted the cook before getting his paper plate. He didn't stay long, wanted to get some sleep before returning to school in the morning. It wasn't Royal Woods, but it had to do.

As long he was away from the blonde, then all was fine with the world.

His apartment was a few blocks from the corrugated stall where he purchased his food. It wasn't Magnolia's, but it gave him a wholesome feeling. His stomach churned for the yearning of apple pie and hot chocolate. He wrapped his fist tightly, wanting to cry out and blame her for his running away.

Don't you ever think you are escapable, Lincoln. You think running away from here is going to stop me from finding you? Everything about you belongs to me? Your chest, your hair, your ass, your dick, your mind, your spirit, your soul. You belong to me. I am your sunrise and sunset. Don't you ever think you are escapable, Lincoln.

The only thing useful about you, Linky, is your misery is my pleasure.

The elevator played cheery pop music as he descended the twenty floors to his apartment building. The elevator opened its doors. He walked into the dim hallway. From his position and through the gate, he saw the skyline of the bright city. He took a few breaths. He often thought of his former home. He closed his eyes as he tried to picture what used to be.

He opened the door to his studio apartment. It felt more like an empty shell than anything else. He put his backpack and books down on the counter. He overlooked the mail that was written for him. Many of those letters came from home. Most of them came from the blonde.

The sigh he made displayed relief as he made it to the bed. He took off his shoes and unbuttoned his uniform. He lied back to the bed and reached for the remote. He was getting used to perkiness of Japanese television. He passed the channels of glitzy glamour of idols, anime, wacky game shows, and news before finding familiar American programming. He had his tray on his lap and began eating his vegetable and shrimp dumplings. He took slow bites, trying to savor the flavor as he pondered on what dinner his mother was making for the family.

A lump was in his throat. The eyes were blurry, blinded by his tears. He reached for his stuffed rabbit, Bun-Bun and put it to his nose. It had memories of home. The scent of his house and of course, the scent of his urine. Even Bun-Bun wasn't spared that fateful night.

He finished his plate and put it on the floor. No longer interested in television, he lied to stare at the ceiling. He took strong blinks. He tried focusing on the positives of his transitions. He tried focusing on his family for he knew he was dearly missed.

He continued making strong blinks until he slowly drifted into sleep. On his final blink, he saw a faint image of the blonde.

Leni.

He opened his frightful eyes, but only for a moment. Fortunately, it was only an aberration.

Chapter Text

ori was never a studious learner. Opting for teen magazines, shoe shopping, purchasing beauty products, and trying out dresses, the precocious teenager was living the prime years of her concluding adolescence. Lori never had to focus much on her learning for she had her boyfriend, Bobby, to do her work. If that didn't work, then she would bribe one of her classmates into doing her homework. It wasn't much, a picture with Lori or maybe a picture in a compromising position. Every now and again, a peck on the cheek. She thought of it as innocent. She wasn't cheating on Bobby. It was a transaction to seal the deal for passing her classes.

Just like everything else in life, those things eventually come to an end. Lori was reported to the principal's office after her teacher discovered her briberies to other classmates. The principal was harsh, citing punishment to suspend her from school, suspend her from attending prom, and withhold her graduation to complete the failed class in summer school. What made another insult to her injury was that the principal was going to report her parents for her behavior. Panicked, she got on her knees, begging to the principal for mercy. The principal didn't move an itch, making his way to the phone to inform her parents.

After an additional twenty minutes of sobbing and acting hysterical within the office, the principal changed his mind. He told Lori that she was suspended from school. Instead of citing it as cheating, which would have been a red letter on her permanent record, he told the sobbing blonde that it was for the destruction of school property. Although it was a harsh charge, it was better than bribery and cheating. She was still unable to attend prom. However, she didn't have to attend summer school. There was one condition: she would have to take an exam and scored proficiently to pass the class. Bespectacled, Lori didn't have any idea what to do. Trigonometry was her least favorite subject and thus the reason she was involved in those briberies.

The principal was unmoved. He told her that she had three weeks to prepare for the test or else she will go to summer school, and he will tell her parents the told of her suspension. Nevertheless, the heartless principal gave Lori a trump card: find a tutor.

Lori put her finger to her lips on the list of potential tutors. She knew that she couldn't talk to her classmates. She burned that bridge because of her offers to the heartstruck boys. Bobby wasn't any help. He was in the position of paying other classmates to do her work. It wouldn't be long that word would get back, making her in their terms, unpassable.

She told the principal that she would need a few days. The principal gave her two days.

She returned home. A sense of defeat looming over her shoulders. She walked towards the stairs. She didn't even take off her backpack and lied on top of the bed. Her face buried in her pillow. She pulled the remote and clicked on to some music to mask her tears.

What am I gonna do? I really need to graduate. It sucks that my parents are gonna find out about my suspension. It's gonna suck that I might have to go to summer school. Nobody wanna works me. I am unpassable. What in the heck does a girl suppose to do about passing Trigonometry? The class is hard. Bunch of shapes, symbols, and formulas that don't make sense.

She let out a loud sigh as she returned back to her pillow.

Who can I talk to figure this out? There has to be someone to help me out in this plight?

Like a bolt from the blue, there was a knock at the door. She wiped her tears with her sleeve. She turned off the music before acknowledging the visitor.

"Come in," she said while sniffling.

The door opened and she saw that it was her brother, Lincoln. She sat up, keeping her composure to mask her feelings from the white-haired child. Fortunately, she was happy that it was him. He wasn't as judgmental as her sisters. In that perspective, with his being a boy, there were things that were above him, and that was something she admired and didn't mind talking to him.

"Come have a seat," she told Lincoln, patting the bed to invite him.

"Sure," answered Lincoln as he took a seat. "I was sitting in the living room and it looked like you came from a funeral as you walked in. I was a bit concerned."

"Always inquisitive, you twerp," she said. "But, you are my brother. So, I shouldn't be surprised." She lightly tapped his shoulder with her fist. "So, what's up? You were worried about me?"

"Yeah, I was," replied Lincoln. He looked away. "Listen, don't be mad." He sighed again. "I heard through the grapevine what was going down with you."

She coughed, rubbing the streaks out of her face. "Grapevine? What are you talking about?"

"You know, unpassable."

She pursed her lips, tucking it in from further biting. She buried her face into her hands. "It even spread down to your level."

Lincoln rubbed her shoulders affectionately. "Don't worry, Lori. It won't get to our parents, yet. But my main concern is that you were having a hard time in Math. How come you didn't ask for help."

She blushed, embarrassed by the question. "I didn't think I need to. When I want something, I just compensate for something else."

He twiddled his thumbs, looking to the floor. "Lori, it doesn't last long. It comes with a price." He turned to her. "If you wanted help, then you should have come to me. Or Lisa? Somebody."

"Poor, bro. I love your naivete." She kissed his forehead. "Lori is the kind of girl that doesn't believe in doing something I don't like. That is why I pay people to do it for me. It isn't cheating if I am working to get others to do a job for me." She smirked. "It is like I am the boss and they are doing the assignment. It is not about the credit, it is about the results."

Lincoln frowned. He knew that Lori always had an answer to everything; even if she was right or wrong. He could make a book about her situations and ordeals that Brittanica Encyclopedia would have to make a committee. No interest in entertaining that, he focused on a solution for her to avoid the worst.

"Look, Lori, you are a clever girl. But, eventually, this avoidance is going to lead you in dark places."

"Are you here to lecture me? Because the principal chewed me out over fifty minutes and it is very tiring."

"God, there is always a bite in you," responded Lincoln. "I came in here to seek your help." He was tensed. Lincoln was concerned of his sister and wished she wasn't as defensive. Lincoln sincerely desired help for Lori. Once again, maintaining composure was the key. "I know a person that can help you."

She raised her eyebrow. "You do, twerp? Really?"

"Are you playing me like a fool?"

"No, I just didn't think you had friends outside of Clyde."

He raised his finger to interject but put it down. "We met online while playing MMORPG. We became good acquaintances. He lives in the West Coast and attends college at SFIT. Get this, he is only fourteen!"

"A fourteen-year-old in college," she questioned as she nodded her head. "Tell me who he is."

"His name is Hiro Hamada. He works with robotics at SFIT. He also works at a restaurant with his aunt. He even has a robot!"

"Twerp," she said. "As much I enjoy the geeky stuff, what does this Hiro can do for me?"

"He took Trigonometry when he was the fifth grade."

She raised her eyebrows with her mouth agape. "Fifth grade," she retorted. "Now, you are speaking my language."

"Good to hear. Anyway, I talked to him before he came here. He is willing to help you out in Trig."

"Interesting," she said. She furrowed her face. "What is the catch?" Lori became hesitant. She knew the things she did in order to convince her classmates to do her work. Some of which questioned the welfare of her relationship with Bobby.

"He doesn't want anything," answered Lincoln. "Hiro is very generous. He has plenty of free time on his hands. He just doesn't like seeing a person down on his luck." He reached into his pocket. "Here is his number. He is expecting your class." Lincoln stepped from the bed. "Word of advice, he is sort of shy with pretty girls. So, don't use any of your charms."

"Don't tell me he is a pervert."

"Heck no," interjected Lincoln. "God, not everything is dirty, Lori. Have you notice that the writer hasn't even used any profanity or expletives of sexual nature in this story."

"Hmm, you are right. Anyway, this Hiro is trusting?"

"We have played together for a few months. He seems cool. We talked online and called one another. I like him. Give him a call." Lincoln waved goodbye to Lori and closed the door behind him.

Lori stared at the piece of paper with Hiro's number. With my three-day suspension beginning and I going to be grounded, I might as well give him a call. Plus, I want to prepare for graduation. Honey Boo Boo Bear and I are going to walk together on graduation day.

She lied back on the bed. She reached for her cell phone, holding the piece of paper in the air, and dialed the number for Hiro.

"Hi, Hiro Hamada, speaking."

"Hi, this is Lori. Lori Loud."

"Oh! Hi, Lori. I was expecting your call."

There was a moment of silence between both lines. Lori broke the silence.

"Lincoln told me you were good at Math."

"I can get my way out a square or two," said Hiro while laughing.

Lori overlooked it for it reminded her of her sister, Luan's, bad puns. "So, listen. If you don't mind. Are you willing to make time to help me?"

Chapter Text

Tomoko had always yearned to challenge her fetishes. It was her way of further exploring her sexuality. In the perverted mind of the lecherous teen, she is expanding her horizons, to display her affections for an unrequited love. Lincoln was the individual who needed guidance, an expert in the field of romance to help him find his way to love. From the moment she stepped into the Loud household, Lincoln was already caught in the web. Correction, Tomoko prepared prior to entry into the United States. At night, when she was alone, her room was filled with sounds of her playing with herself. She filled her caverns with anything she could grab, moaning over the thoughts of the white-haired child. Her bed squeaked and cracked, the bed absorbing her natural pheromones. She continued until she heard a loud knock from her brother, Tomoki. She scoffed, returning him with curse words and threats. Unlikely threats, but enough to subdue him until the morning when he can take out it on her.

He was jealous, the lecherous teen thought. She was an inch closer to getting action than he was. Where she got access to obtain a boy, he couldn't even get a girl next door. She grinned to the thought as she ebbed in the afterglow.

She took sharp breaths as she caressed her pussy. She was glad that she didn't showered as plan. She wanted his outfit embedded in his scent. She prayed to the gods that this uniform will leave remnants; any implication of what she had done. Unbeknownst to the sleeping teen, his costume was not the only causality. From his bed sheets to the bedroom carpet to the corners of his desk. Many orifices and any finite space of his bedroom was marked by Tomoko's scent.

She had one thing left to stake her claim in the real world and that is Lincoln Loud.

She edged closer, stroking her pussy as she used her free hand to caress her tities. She didn't wear a bra, wanting her nipples sensitive as possible. Feeling her aerolas to the costume was invigorating. This was exciting to the teen. Never did she have the courage to do an act such as this. The more she thought, the wetter she came. The distance was not enough. She further the ante. She got on one knee and position herself above his head.

He shifted, making her pause. He coughed a couple of times, but managed to return to his slumber. If he only knew what was inches above him.

"Lincoln," she moaned. "I am performing such a sense in form of you. And in your Ace Savvy costume as well." She pinched her folds, hoping her juices would leak out of her uniform. "I can't imagine what thoughts can come to mind as you wear it. I hope my scent catches on to other parts. I am making my claim, Lincoln. You will become mine."

Needed something to stimulate her, she saw the bed frame and used it as her humping post. She bit her lip, feeling the pleasurable sensation of her womanhood. She smiled as the moonlight aided her sight on seeing her juices blending onto the wood. "Conservation of energy that never been created or destroyed. I may return home, but my juices aren't. It is there for many years to come. Get it, Lincoln? Come? I am far from done."

She has never been this excited to be this close and personal. The only time she remembered having indirect moments was when she was in junior high. There was a childhood acquaintance of Yuu's and Tomoko had a slight crush on him. He was well-known for his musical talent. One morning before class, she sneaked into the music room. She knew of their musical recital and took advantage of the opportunity. Going to his locker, she saw his oboe. With her watering mouth, she licked the reed. When that wasn't enough, she went for the keys and the bell. When licking didn't suffice, she used it to masturbate. She orgasmed enough times before wiping it with her handkerchief (which she used to clean her vagina after masturbating) and returning it to his locker. That afternoon, she watched the excitement unfold. His facial expression changed the moment his lips locked around the reed. No one noticed, but Tomoko. She watched as he continued to play his song. Excitingly arousing her was seeing the juices drip from the oboe. He completed the entire song without error. Tomoko gave him an awkward praise before returning to the bathroom to resume her session.

She grinned in the pleasure of her past. She further the ante. She delicately squatted on top of Lincoln. As much pressure she was applying on the bed, Lincoln didn't make a fuss. She remembered hearing from Luna that he was a heavy sleeper. That suited her better. Although the thought of his waking up was arousing her curiosity, in many ways than one.

"Lincoln, can you hear me," she purred. "I am standing over you. You should praising me for the privilege of a girl doing this to you. It is not everyday that a girl wants to give you this." The musk was getting to her. She began moaning loudly. She covered her mouth, but the feeling of her pussy was getting too much.

Her eyes widened when his breath was hovering on her pussy. She wanted to melt. "Breathe more, Lincoln," she cried. "I am almost there. You breath is filling me up." She picked up the pace. She gyrated her hips, but her knees began buckling. Oh no! If I fall, then he wakes up. But, this feels so good. Oh my God, I am a horny girl. Oh God, I am a horny girl. Fill your breath up. Make me cum. Make me cum.

She muffled her cry as she climaxed. Her juices leaking from his uniform and dripping onto the bed sheets. She shifted her hips until her climax subsided. When she came to, she gasped when she saw her juices covering Lincoln.

And of course, the surprising look on Lincoln's waking face.

"Tomoko?"

"Lincoln?"

Chapter Text

Here is another ill attempt of a crossover...Lincoln! On Ice!

The sound of his cell phone served as his alarm clock for the sleepy Lincoln. He rubbed his eyes, removing any sleepiness from his eyes. He was quick to jump from his bed unless waking up the entire household. It was five in the morning and this wasn't a typical wake-up call. He went to the phone and turned off his alarm. Following his turning off his alarm, he saw a message. It gave him no surprise for this individual believed in timing and he wasn't going to have his time wasted.

Lincoln, I need you out in 5 minutes. Hurry up!

-Y

Tired and exhausted from the previous day, but knowing he doesn't want to irritate that person, he hurried with his clothes. He ran to grab his jacket and headed downstairs. The moment he stepped onto the living room, he grabbed his gym bags. Before touching the knob, he received another message.

Don't forget your skates!

-Y

He was grateful for the man who reminds him of the trivial things. He went back to the living room to retrieve his skates. With everything he need, he was out of the door.

It was a ten minute walk to the park. His instructor knew of that and was giving him twenty minutes between getting up and being there. It wasn't everyday Lincoln involved himself in activity, especially an activity that involved waking up in the early morning hours. However, there was a purpose. A purpose he wasn't ready to explain yet. Or at least not to himself for the sense of embarrassment and pride.

And of course, for a girl.

The air was frozen lace on his skin, delicate and cold, like winter waves on shallow sand. The sky was washed with grey, watery light illuminating thin patches to brilliance. In some moments, he was watching my boots over the frozen sidewalk, perfect concrete slabs, flat and square, and in others transfixed to the interplay of cloud and sleepy sun above.

For some reason his mind conjures a stone mosaic made beautiful by the shards of a mirror and he wanted to keep his eyes heaven bound while my imagination makes them one thing. Only the slipping of his feet brought his attention earthward once more, the need to stay upright pulling his mind into the present.

It was a few minutes later when he arrived to the park. The streetlights were still on, which gave him availability to see the footpath. The pond was located around that region. Fighting the cold, he grabbed his stuff and headed towards the path.

A few moments later, Lincoln arrived. When he made it, he saw that his instructor was there. However, he wasn't alone. Lincoln stopped. He saw the instructor and his guest staring at the pond.

"The pond is strange. Something is not right," said his instructor.

Lincoln walked forward. He coughed to make his presence known. The two individuals turned around.

"You're late," spoke the guest. He spoke in a Russian accent. "Punctuality is everything."

"I apologize," replied Lincoln.

"Apologies isn't going to help you become a better skater," retorted the guest. "It is important that if you want our help, you must be ready to come at any time."

"He's right," retorted his instructor. "However, judging by the pond, there might be some problems." Lincoln saw that his instructor had a stick in his hand. He returned his sights on Lincoln.

"Lincoln?"

"Yes, Mr. Yuri," questioned Lincoln.

"Grab this stick and poke at the ice," respond Yuri.

Lincoln took the stick by the hand and poked at the ice.

"See the problem," questioned the guest.

"Yeah, Mr. Victor," said Lincoln. "The ice isn't as flat. The ice is sort of loose."

"That is going to be a problem," replied Yuri as he covered his mouth. "It means we won't be skating here today." He put his finger to his lips. "But, it doesn't hurt to do workouts until we can fix the problem." He turned to Victor. "Victor, can you be a dear and make some calls? I want to see if we can get some available in the next few hours?"

"I will be on it," answered Victor as he reached for his cell phone. While Victor was on his phone, Yuri turned to Lincoln. "Alright then, since we can't skate, we can work out."

"Yes, sir," answered Lincoln.

"Drop your gear here. Victor will be watching," said Yuri as he began stretching. He nudged at Lincoln to do the same.

A few moments later, Yuri prepped Lincoln as they began their morning run. They ran through the park until they made it onto the main street. The street was decorated like a birthday cake, frosting everywhere! And how fitting, to Lincoln the start of winter was like a gift. He sucked in the cold air and felt it enter like bitter medicine. The street was slippery, but he concluded that was just part of winter. As he made her way down the street he was warmer than she had been in summertime, and she smiled delicately under the morning sun.

As he and Yuri were running, he was thinking of his reasoning of this. His mind focused on that girl. The girl he remembered that late fall evening skating onto the very lake that made him get involved in this.

I hope this is worth it.

This concludes another ill attempt of a crossover….to be continued until next time.

Chapter Text

That coffee tasted like a used cigarette. It wasn't the best of smilies, but it was the first that Lincoln acquired after tasting the burnt coffee from his usual coffeehouse. He criticized how recently their taste, as well as their customer service, has been lacking. It wouldn't be any surprise since the owner of the establishment has set forth on worldly adventures and left her good tithings to her younger brother. Unlike the enthusiastic big sister, the young brother's thoughts were on business, synergy, and micromanagement. In conclusion, the attitude of their baristas reflected their taste of coffee. Like a bad habit of his recent quitting of cigarettes, Lincoln tossed the coffee into the trashcan. He pulled out a piece of nicotine gum. He discarded the wrapper to the trashcan as he walked down the stairs into the courtyard. He walked into the crowd of students who were venturing to their next class or were heading back to their dorms from classes. He saw a few students dressed in their work clothes to head to their student job.

He groaned at the thought of obtaining another student job. It wasn't long ago that he was recently released from his job working as a library assistant. Their reason of letting him go wasn't because of his personality. Frankly, the boss enjoyed the white-haired child. That was if he showed up or stayed awake long enough to work. The incomprehensible boy spent his evenings partying with his friends and spending latter parts of the early morning cramming for exams or completing overdue homework. He may get a few hours here and there, but it was apparent in his schoolwork. He always told himself that he would get an additional sleep on the weekends, but alas, the weekends were spent partying with friends until the sun shined on Monday morning.

The fallacy of a fallen nineteen-year-old scholar.

He sighed as he grabbed tightly around his book. He was trailing near a D in his Freshman Composition class. He already has an overdue assignment, but his teacher was grateful enough to give him a week to complete it.

And that was over four days ago.

His goal was to spend the night completing the assignment and slipped it under her door before their test. He was his first class. Hopefully, he won't be in an unpleasant mood.

He put his mind back into focus as he walked across the street to get to his dorm. His hope since his roommate/best friend Clyde, wouldn't be there since he had late afternoon classes, he would have time to complete his work. He had it all planned.

Step 1: Go into my dorm and turn off all distractions.

Step 2: There is no step 2.

Step 3: Leave a do not disturb sign so I can concentrate.

Step 4: Energy drinks to help cram.

Step 5: Coffee in case energy drinks don't work.

Step 6: Take a ten minute break every hour.

Step 7: For all that is holy. Do not answer the phone unless it is a family member.

Step 8: Keep that mindset until completing this assignment.

Step 9: Just do it, okay?

He checked his watch and saw the clock struck a little after three in the afternoon. He crossed another street and made it to the parking lot of his dormitory. The gravel rock gnashing against his feet reminded him of the thoughts of returning back to those dorms. It reminded him of subsidized urban housing. He didn't mean offense to those who claim those places home, but he didn't think that the "projects" existed on college campuses. He made it to the dormitory where he used his key fob to open the door. He was welcomed to the scents of mold, hormones, sweat, and amongst other things. Despite his doing laundry, whenever he returned home, the white-haired was forced to do laundry again. His mother couldn't stand the scent of "college life," she said to her chagrin. He laughed to himself, knowing that it wasn't long until his next visit home.

With the elevator broken for repairs, again, the frustrated Lincoln walked the nine flights of stairs to his room. With each flight, the white-haired child was having second thoughts of working on his overdue paper. Along with studying for his other classes and assignments from those other classes, it was going to be a long night.

He was grateful that it was a Friday.

Ten tiresome, exhausting minutes later, he made it to his dorm room. He covered his nose to blockade the scent from the public bathroom. He wouldn't be surprised if someone purposefully defecated on the floor, per usual. Or if someone failed to aim for the toilet, again. He shook his head for the lack of home training from these students. Alas, the detrimental hazards of dormitory life.

He was welcomed to the cool sensation of the air conditioner. Thankful to Clyde, he told himself that he would get something for him when he returned back to the campus. He tossed his stuff next to his bed. He turned on the radio to find music he can concentrate. Choosing an alternative jazz radio station, he got himself comfortable for the night ahead.

He sat at his chair where his laptop resided. He never brought his laptop anywhere for risking it would break. He was fortunate for the used tablet Luna left for him before she made her venture studying abroad in England with her girlfriend, Sam.

He opened his laptop and cranked open a bottle of his energy drink. He took a few sips as he searched through his emails. Aside from the trivial stuff of college information, important events, the overdue notices from his English professor, and spam mail. He exited off from his computer. He opened his word document to gather his information to work on his assignment. He was a few sentences into the assignment.

He heard his cell phone ringing.

If it wasn't for the fact that the ringing phone was planted on the sink behind him, then he would have never got up. He scratched his underarms as he walked to the phone. He saw that it was Clyde.

Clyde is my friend, my best friend. So, it does count for Step 7.

He answered on the fifth ring.

"Hey, Clyde. What's up," asked Lincoln as he sat back to his desk. "I am in the middle of something. What do you need?"

"Dude," responded Clyde loudly. "Get this! There is a mixer going on at the pub tonight."

"Cool," said Lincoln. "That sounds like a plan, but…."

"But, what?"

"Look, man, I hate to say this. Let alone think it, but I won't be attending tonight."

There was a pause on the phone for a moment. "Is this the same Lincoln Loud? The one who enjoys going to parties."

"Listen, man," interjected Lincoln. "I just got things to do. I got so much on my plate that it is pitiful. I am hoping to have some down time to finish this work. But, no, man not tonight."

"Listen, hear me out," said Clyde. He took a few moments before responding. "On any other weekend, I couldn't agree anymore with you. Trust me. However, there is a reason why I am asking you to come on this night."

He sighed. "What reason is that. Clyde? Free beer? Smokes? A girl? Look man…"

"The huntress is coming!"

Lincoln almost dropped the phone the moment he heard those words coming from Clyde's lips. He tightly gripped his cell phone to assure Clyde was aiding his comprehension. "The huntress. No way! The huntress?"

"Allegedly," retorted Clyde. "I heard through the grapevine in my Chemistry class that the huntress was going to frequent this mixer tonight."

"Dude, what kind of mixer is this," asked Lincoln with curiosity. "There is no way in hell that the huntress would come unless…." He paused. He put his finger to his lip to think. "Unless the mixer is a…"

"A group of folks from my Quiz Bowl team."

"OK...OK…."

There was an awkward moment of silence before Lincoln returned to the conversation. "So, this mixer at the pub. It wouldn't be just the quiz bowl team, is it?"

"Obviously not, duh," said Clyde. "It would make us an easy target. But, you know the huntress wants a majority within the minority of sorts as well. In her eyes, that is a mixer."

"Yeah, but I am unsure."

"Dude, this is like the perfect opportunity to get our dicks wet," said Clyde. "Are you telling me that you are going to avoid the chance of getting your paintbrush dipped."

"Listen, buddy," interjected Lincoln with hints of frustration. "How I want to use my paintbrush is nothing but of my concern."

"Alright, man, chill," said Clyde. "I just want to take the opportunity of having some leeway with this huntress. I am not asking you to just come and party, I am asking as a friend. I don't want to be alone. I, at least, want a wingman if the huntress comes around to see me."

Lincoln became trapped in limbo. Yes, he valued Clyde's friendship. He didn't mind helping out a friend in need. He just wished that it didn't coincide with his pending due assignments. At the same time, he already has one strike on his permanent record. It was by the grace of God his dean gave him another chance. He feared dismissal and of course, his partying was inexcusable. He stared onto the blinking line of his word document.

Help a friend? Get my work done? Help my friend to get his middle man worked up? Or get my work done with the chance of my middle man being cut off? Decisions?

He grunted loud enough for Clyde to hear. "I will come with you." He heard Clyde shout "yes" before Lincoln intervened. "Here is the catch. If the huntress does come and get with you, you will help me with this assignment."

"Anything, bud."

"I mean, no spending the night with this huntress. Get in, get out. Come to the dorm, help me out. I scratch yours, you scratch mine."

"Yes, yes. A thousand times, yes!"

"Alright then," said Lincoln. "When does this mixer began?"

"Around eight this evening at Mike's."

"I know the place," said Lincoln. "I will meet you there."

"Great. Once again, thanks!"

"Thanks, my ass. Just help me on this assignment." He hanged up the phone while cracking his knuckles. He looked at the clock and saw he had some time to complete the assignment. He stood up to stretch. He began yawning as he was feeling sleepy.

I think I can lie down for a minute. Catch a little of a second wind. And then resume to my work. I mean, I can count that as Step 6.

He took off his shoes and lied on the bed. He told himself that he was going to get himself ten minutes to rest.

He was asleep after three minutes.

Chapter Text

When all said and done, I embraced death in its wholesome arms. Less than an hour after walking away from school for the upcoming weekend in December, I was murdered. Shocking, but truthfully told, I didn't expect death accompanying me in my plans. I didn't remember penciling it in with my skateboarding with Lynn. I didn't remember scribbling it over hanging out at the arcade with Ronnie Anne and Clyde. I don't recall leaving it in a text before making arrangements of spending family night that Sunday with my family. I didn't recall any of that to happen. Alas, when all said and done, I embraced death in its wholesome arms; taking away any other thing to worry, to protest, to excite, to plan. Anything!

It happened the weekend before Lucy's birthday. She was turning thirteen that following Monday. I share a smile to myself. Thirteen, just an agile age of budding maturity. It wasn't too long ago when I was looking forward to those numbers. The transition into becoming a teenager. Lucy wouldn't stop gripping about her new age. She wanted that day, the age to be such a robust, transcendental era of her own version of a renaissance. It was very unfortunate to miss it.

My killer made arrangements for me. Thirteen shots to the chest. Each jab my killer took lessen my resistance, my prowess, my stronghold, my everything. I faded away into an oblivion, to a level beyond human. My compartment, recycled and reclaimed to the dust from where I was formed.

They still and won't be able to recover my body. My killer ensured that wasn't going to foil into her treacherous plans. Treacherous, such a strong word as unfortunately, the killer didn't stop. Before my death, there were two others. Each of a different gender, race, background, memory, aspiration, dreams, life. What tales could they have told me before stepping into her unholy graces? Was she alluring to convince pitiful souls like myself to come into her web? What words did she say to pull them in? What enticed them to resist their instincts to come there? I should have asked myself the same thing prior to my death. If I would have known before then, walking into my death was easier as opening the door to a family member or a stranger. Not everyone who answers is looking for a chat. Motives are motives and for sure, her motives were clear as day as she murdered me in cold blood.

What is damning that a week after my death (or shall I say my disappearance), a Japanese publishing company approved my rough copies of my once upcoming name. Ironically, the story was about a character who had a meeting with death. Both were sitting in a coffeehouse, trapped between two worlds: the physical realm and the spiritual realm. Ryuk was the name of the coffeehouse of the split world and both parties engaged in debates on the protagonist's reasoning of sparing his life. He had charts, documents, topics that contributed for his reason of living. Death didn't factored nor care of those supporting evidence. His nature alone was to do the deed of the inevitable. Such an interesting subject, I may add.

It is very unfortunate it will be never finished. I am grateful for the publishing company to release my materials about a year after. They were rough sketches, but they influenced many others to draw in my wake. "A Tribute of the Unrisen Artist," was the topic of that magazine. It still brings a tear to my eyes of my loved ones who were interviewed and talked about my life. I can hear, smell, taste the anguished voice of my best friend, Clyde. I can feel the tightening fist of sunken tears, managing to fight the pain from my girlfriend, Ronnie Anne. Lucy took it rough. She never wanted her birthday celebrated on that date again. She told interviewers that seeing me fade away questioned her on if she wanted to join me in the afterlife.

Among those who took it the hardest, it was Luna. However, I will share that for another time.

As you may know, my killer didn't take much effort in finding me. In fact, she was quite friendly to the neighbors on Franklin Ave. My mother loved her garden. My killer had such a green thumb. Very fortunate of her wearing her gloves. I would be cautious if they were covered in blood as well. My killer had fooled everyone on that street, that neighborhood, that town. She was very unsuspecting. So much trust was put onto her that anybody would leave their children under her care.

Behind those caring eyes, behind those soft, gentle hands, behind those soft, gentle words were the hands of a killer. The tightening grip her hands coiling around my neck, like a snake taking care of its prey. Her eyes were fiery red as her flushed cheeks, her red lipstick, and the pain I was feeling when I was entrapped that day.

My mother trusted her. My father admired her. My sisters thought she was amazing. I thought she was amazing. I wouldn't be a liar if I didn't have a crush on the silent beauty.

I am sorry, the silent killer.

Nobody really knows the troubles unfolded that fateful evening on the way home from school. Nobody really knows what can happen when you are alone or with others, matter-of-factly. It was the usual day after school. School was concluded for the week, I replaced my academic duties in exchange for fun-filled activities, and I was walking home where video games and comic books were to be tending for my love and care. The usual, the norm. What more can I say of my quaint life? Nothing more, nothing less.

Nobody really knows.

Nobody knew of the inclement weather occurring that afternoon. A massive cold front heading south from our neighbors of the North. I told my sisters I had to stay behind. Clyde and I were working on our finishing touches of the comic we were submitting for the local art festival. Our teacher, Mrs. Aoyama, was gracious enough to use her studio for our work. We have done it before. Many, many times. Much of our precious time between friends in our works of art were in that studio. We were a duo. Excuse me, a trio for Ronnie Anne made appearances in the studio as well. She wasn't much of an artist. More of a distraction, but that was my Ronnie Anne. Clyde called it ranting, I called her a consulting artist. Much of my work came from her mouth. A vocalist she was and a mouthpiece she is. I can still taste her orange soda bubblegum she slid into my mouth when we kissed on the counter in the art room. Her chapped lips scrapping my lips. My loins became hungry, knowing of what it desired, craved. She wanted more, but I told her another time.

If I knew death was lurking around that corner, I should have taken her on that offer. A parting gift, a penance, if you will for her bereavement. It would have been such a consolation. If death would have given me more time, I wouldn't use a condom. I am sorry, but my undying love for her was beyond greater than just sex. Ronnie Anne was and still is my anchor.

Now, she is stuck at the bottom of the ocean. That boat is nowhere to be found.

It was an all-call on the intercom, warning the remaining students in the building of the inclement weather. School was to be immediately closed. Out of the cords the deities designed for me, two of them displayed a chance of living. They were cut when I turned down Clyde's request for a ride home; and when Ronnie Anne's mother pulled her van aside to pick me up, I, too, turned it down.

"I am okay, Mrs. Santiago. My house is around the way," I told her with such a relaxed voice. Her eyes glued to me, knowing she wanted me to get into the car. She wanted more of me. She was more clingy than usual. Even death gives a inch to those who once acquainted with it.

I was about a block or two from my street. I rubbed my hands as dwindling snowflakes danced to the street. It touches my cheek with such a cool caress. It was very picturesque, a reminder of our upcoming winter. I took it in open arms, humming a tune of its arrival. It was nothing usual of being in the Midwest. Things change and then it repeats.

Can you say the same thing about taking a life? Nobody really knows.

Nobody really knew the circumstances as I decided to take the shortcut to my house. Nothing out of the ordinary. I breathed through my nose as I made the steps onto the dirt paved alleyway. I knew the neighbors for their children walked the very path to school on such winter days like this.

It was the light scent of her perfume that caught my attention.

My name was called into the air like a siren to a sailor into the lone ocean. A savory voice, edible to those who crave and seek it. Enticing, entrancing, the familiar caught my attention as I turned to the yard beside me.

"Oi!" Her trademark introduction whenever she sees people of familiarity. She had a shovel in her hand. Her green gloves stuck out to me as it didn't match the whiteness of the now falling snow. "What are you doing out here alone, Loud." Another thing about her. She used my surname before getting comfortable enough to use my first name.

"Oh, hey, Ms. Young," I said to her pleasantly. "I am just returning home from school. I am about to head to the house."

She put the shovel into the dirt. She was wearing a heavy leather jacket. It looked very expensive, but it was very strange on why wear such an item when doing garden work? It looked like the kind of jacket that belonged on dates. And that was the thing.

I think I haven't seen her with a man or even a woman. She was a beautiful woman; nimble as a sheep. Looking at it now, she was a black sheep roaming with a pack of wolves. Never underestimate the softness of a fragile creatures. Like everything of a species, there is a breaking point and many are prone to bite.

"It is very late, child," she tells me. "You need to head home before you catch a cold." She continues to walk. Unlike my neighbors who have wooden fences, hers was gated. I hear her making tracks as she made her way to the gate. She opened the gate and made her way to my direction.

"I am, Ms. Young," I said as I wiped the snot from my nose. "I am going to head there right now. I just caught up at school is all."

She put her hands on her hips. "That's right, Lincoln. You were a comic book artist, correct?"

"More like aspiring artist. I am in no way of that talent yet," I told her casually.

"Nonsense, Lincoln," she told me. "I knew when you displayed your work to me, I saw talent in you, dear."

In the past, I have been to her house. The last time I came was in the summer. She was the only neighbor with a pool on her block. We had a Neighborhood Block Party and that summer, she was the host. The entire family, along with the neighborhood, attend the soiree in her backyard. Music, food, and camaraderie filled the moist air. My sisters took advantage of the swimming pool. I, for one, kicked back at the table, watching my sisters swim. I was too consumed on my drawings to play. I was intent on producing my name, therefore no time for fun, at the time.

She played the role of host quite well. She made drinks, she greeted nicely, everything to keep herself as the friendly neighbor. What I didn't tell my parents was that she eyed me every other minute. She observe me. It was like a photographer examining their subject. Knowing the purpose, the plan, the next move. Click, flash, save, repeat.

"Thank you," I told her. "I take pride in my work. Something I can't help."

She shook her head. "I couldn't agree more, Lincoln. A child such as yourself has great things for your future. I am delighted to be in your presence."

I blushed, flustered at the compliment. I nodded to her as a goodbye so I could make my way to my house. As I make my direction, she stood in the way. This time, her perfume impacted my nostrils.

She storked her long chestnut hair. "Say, Lincoln. If you don't mind, there is something I wanted you to see," she told me. She smiled, averting her sights from me. It was as if she was trying to display embarrassment. A nice ploy to trick me. Well played, Ms. Young, well played.

Ms. Young was an avid comic collector. Her comic collection exceeded beyond mine. Before making the United States her permanent residence, she was a traveller. She explored throughout the world. Great Britain, her native South Korea, Japan, Australia, Africa, New Zealand, and other countries. She was formed of the manga and definitely, the manwha of her country. She had a library in her basement. I have seen it once. And that was on the same night at the block party.

She slid the patio door to allow entry. It felt good embracing the warmth. She closed it behind me. She was shaking herself off. She may have been in the cold for awhile, or she was playing the role of neighbor very well. She asked for my jacket and I allowed her to take it. She told me that it wouldn't be too long. She wanted to show her collection. She knew of my aspiring career and she wanted to give me some material to further my career. It felt good to have that support from her.

My parents didn't share that same passion. LIncoln, as much you enjoy this hobby. Do you think it is important to find a stable career? Lincoln, jobs like that are a dime-a-dozen. I want you to find something that is going to help you for your future. There is nothing wrong in having a passion for it, but think of the what if's.

So, it compelled me for Ms. Young to praise me and encourage me to continue my art. She had amazing comics that were inspiring me. If I would've known that the basement was the place of my demise, I would've valued my parents' advice.

My tenacity was my downfall.

She reminded me of holding on to the rails for they were rickety. These stairs stood attest of time for they existed before I was a twinkle in my father's eye. She was grateful of turning on the lights so I could see clearly into the trap. Upon entry to the basement, I was quite amazed of being reintroduce into her astounding collection.

Her basement was a headquarters to an artist. She had an drawing studio, bookshelves in all corners filled with comics, and a desk. It made me question the materials that Mrs. Aoyama allowed Clyde and me to use. This was an amateur's paradise.

Or so I thought.

"Have you seat." Her kempt smile pointed to the sofa in front of me. I checked my phone. I didn't want to stay too long. My parents knew of my after school duty. I made it in my mind to give her twenty minutes. I sat at the couch.

I saw Ms. Young dusted off her skirt and scratching through her stocking. She hummed a tune. Greensleeves, I believe. She pulled a comic from her shelf and return to the couch.

"If I remember correctly, you told me at the party you were looking for something abstract," she handed the book to me. She sat next to me to open the comic. We flipped through a few pages together. The comic she displayed was worthy for more of my material. It was everything I needed. It was great. I wanted to borrow it.

"This is great, Ms. Young." My smile was confirmation. I closed the book. It was the moment that I wanted to leave. I would have borrowed the book for a few days and then return it to the owner.

Ms. Young had other plans.

"Stay a little. I want to make sure if you are really okay with this," she said. "You kids are so ready to go without even checking out the thing." She stood up and walked to the mini-fridge across from the bookshelf. "I don't have any soda, but would a glass of tea do?"

I really wanted to go home, but I didn't want to be rude. She was gracious enough of borrowing her book. The least I could do is to stay for one drink.

"Sure," I tell her. She grabbed a plastic cup and poured the tea into the glass. She poured a glass for herself and took a seat beside me.

"Cheers," she said with the cup in hand.

"For what," I questioned.

"Being avid readers, artist, neighbors. Something good," she said with a bit of humor. I toasted with her and consumed my drink. It wasn't that bad. Too much sugar, in my opinion.

I ingested my drink quickly as she gave to me. "Thank you for the drink, Ms. Young." I stood up, holding on to her book. "As much as I enjoy this stay, I really have to go."

Her face furrowed as if I have insulted her. Her hands trembled, holding on the hems of the skirt. "So, that how it is. You just come in, take what you can get and leave."

I was taken aback, didn't expect such a tone coming from her voice. "No, ma'am. It isn't like that. I mean, my parents. T-t-they must be worried."

"What about me," she interjected. "Do you think I don't have feelings." She peered closer to me. She scent was getting much acquainted with my nose. "Do you understand how much this means to me for someone to be here, share my comics. I don't do this for everybody."

A shiver fell down my spine. I was becoming pale. "Yes ma'am. I am very grateful. I still have to go. I can come back when it is not as bad out there." I stood up and nodded my head. I made my way for the stairs, but felt the strong grips of her tightening my arm.

"You're hurting me," I told her.

"Nowhere near where my feelings reside," she told me.

"Please, Ms. Young. You are scaring me."

"Not as scary for punishing boys who don't follow directions."

"What are you talking about?"

She let out a slight smirk. "You see, Lincoln." She still had my arm tightly wrapped with her hands. "I have seen you often. I see you come and go as you pleased." She narrowed her eyes. "How are things with you and Ronnie Anne?"

What about Ronnie Anne?

I felt her nose trailing behind my back, stopping at my shoulders. "Tell me, Lincoln," she said as she basked more into my scent. "Are you a virgin?"

Why does that matter?

I told her I was. What Ronnie Anne and I do is none of her business.

"Liar," she said angrily. "I know what little whores do to confused boys like you."

Her grip was getting tighter.

"Take off your clothes."

"What?"

"Take off your clothes, damn it," she said venomously. Any warmth and love left of Ms. Young faded away. "I will check for myself if you are."

"Ms. Young, this is too much," I told her while struggling to get loose. "I don't like this. I want to go home."

"You aren't going anywhere," she said with absoluteness. "I am going to see if you are pure." She grabbed my shirt. "Now take off your damn clothes. I am not going to say it again."

I stood in confusion. I paused as I was lost. Still registering the situation, I didn't pay attention to the knife she got from her skirt pocket. She traced it along my neck. I whimpered, she smiled. "Now, good boys are do what they are told." She trailed the knife to my nipple. "Right?"

I shivered as I nodded to her. I whimpered as I took off my clothes. I removed everything with the exception of my boxers. She grabbed my clothes and tossed them aside.

"I smell a boy." With the knife in her hand, she pressed her lips against mine. I tasted tea, other contents that were salty to the taste. She pressed that knife to my neck as my tongue and her tongue performed a dance. She broke the kiss, licking her lips in the process.

"A woman's kiss," she barked loudly. She didn't stop there. She put her hands around my boxers and pulled them down. "Now, let me have a taste of this manhood."

She chuckled, pushing me down to the cold concrete floor.

"Please, Ms. Young," I begged. Those words didn't reach her as she made her way to forcefully pleasure me. It didn't feel good. My stomach was turning ill. Tears was escaping my eyes. I extended my hands, forcing and prying her off of me. I gnashing my teeth, biting my lips in the process. I began crying for my mother.

"Mommy," she questioned. "Mommy can't save you, dear. You belong to me. You are my man now."

She took my boxers and put it in my mouth to cover my muffled screams. I looked into the eyes of my captive, putting her fingers to her lips, enticing my silence.

"If you are calm, I promise you, you will feel good things." I felt her wet lips trailing on my stomach and where my manhood was located. I closed my eyes as my pleads weren't going anywhere. My troubles were far from over. For it was her turn to complete it. She took off her clothes. In an instant, there was nothing but her in her nakedness.

"Let my body ensure if you are pure," she purred to me.

I whispered a prayer as she took me inside of her. Ms. Young pressed her body on me. She grunted and moaned into the pleasure as she forcefully made me have sex with her. To ensure I wouldn't resist, she intertwined her hands, forcing me to subdue myself into the pleasure. She grunted, she moaned. She grunted, she moaned. She laughed, she called my name in such a haughty tone.

She kept going until she told me she was climaxing.

We did it at the same time.

Her sweat dripped on my skin like the snowflake did on the way to her. Just like the snowflake, her sweat was cold.

She took my boxers from my mouth and gave me another kiss. Her hand gripping my hair as I tasted her lips.

The final kiss I will ever have into my lifetime.

"Let me ask you something, Lincoln?" She retrieved the knife and put it around my neck. "Do you think I am beautiful?"

Even as I whimpered, I told her yes.

"Do you think I am sexy?"

"Yes!"

"Do you think I can be a wonderful mother?"

"Yes."

"Do you mind if I carried your seed?"

"Yes!"

"One more thing: do you love me?"

She stood over me in her nakedness. This wasn't the same Ms. Young from earlier, the smiling friendly neighbor.

"Do you love me?"

I told her yes.

She extended herself in open arms. "I love you, too, Lincoln." She blew a kiss and throbbed the knife into my chest.

Thirteen shots to the chest.

Nobody really knows the final moments before you die. It is like opening a door and stepping out. It is like opening a door to a family member or a stranger. When all said and done, I embraced death in its wholesome arms.

Blood spilled through my body as she shouted "I love you" repeatedly until I was no more. Alas, when all said and done, I embraced death in its wholesome arms; taking away any other thing to worry, to protest, to excite, to plan. Anything!

Chapter Text

A few days have passed since his introduction to Lily's music teacher. Lincoln admired the skills and the talent the woman displayed during her session with Lily. The first thing he mouthed from his lips was elegant. Michelle Kaiou was a textbook definition of elegant. How her smooth hands fiddled with the violin; vibing with the rhythm at every string and at every pluck. She handled it smoothly as it was a whisper in the wind. It was probably a poor example of a simile, but the point was comparing it to his skills of writing. That night, he returned home and opened his sketchpad to continue his work. Most of the drawings were anime character he had admired or secretly crushed. He opened to a clean page and began sketching the outlines of Michelle. He carefully detailed the position, her stance, and how she played with Lily. He traced the background of the studio, remembering the pictures of Beethoven and Bach on the wall; the eighty-eight key piano. After spending over an hour or so, the picture was completed. Lily and Michelle, elegance.

"Why can't you stay with me today, big bro." Lincoln watched as his sister tearfully tugged at his jacket. At the same time, Michelle grabbed Lily around her hips, trying to pry her from her big brother.

"Lily, he can't stay today, dear," said Michelle while struggling. "Maybe he can come another time." She groaned as she realized the strong grip of the tenacious five-year-old.

"I want you to stay, Lincoln," she said while sobbing. "Don't go nowhere. Please, big brother. Stay here with me." Her snot trailed to her lips, combining with the tears. It wasn't until Lincoln presented himself from gentle brother to stern parent.

"Lily Loud, listen here right now!" His voice was firm, but not enough to put fear into his sister. Immediately she went silent. She sniffled and tilted upward to Lincoln. "I can't stay today. I have to take care of some things." He kneeled down to her height. He pulled his handkerchief and wiped the pre-crusted snot and tears around her face. He instructed her to blow her nose. After wiping her face, he returned the handkerchief into his pocket. "I must go today." He looked to Michelle. Her eyes lingered on Lincoln as well, probably to her surprise of his firmness.

"I promise that I will come and sit with you tomorrow," he said. He put out his pinky ring. "Remember about our pinky promises."

She puffed her face. Her fist was tightly wrapped. Lincoln tilted his head, refusing to let down. When seeing her methods weren't phasing him, she relaxed. She tilted her hand and extended her pinky. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

"Cross my heart and hope to die," retorted Lincoln while wrapping his pinky around Lily.

"Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a dirty needle in my eye." They both chanted together.

"I will come to your session tomorrow," said Lincoln.

"You promise," questioned Lily.

Lincoln closed his eyes and kissed his sister on his forehead. "I promise, Lily. Or a dirty needle will go into my eye."

Lily smiled, hugging her brother and running to the studio. She stumbled when she forgot to take off her shoes. Michelle remained standing. Lincoln was about to turn before feeling her grabbing his shoulder.

"Hey, Ms. Kaiou," said Lincoln. "Is there something you need?"

She shook her head. "I am just amazed on how adorable and awesome you were to Lily. You have an amazing way of taking care of children." She swayed her hair, releasing a slight blush to her cheek. "You must do that to all children?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Not really. I just care about Lily and seek her best interest." He paused. "Along with my other siblings." He took her hand from his shoulders. She apologized, but he excused it. "I will be back in an hour to get her, Ms. Kaiou." He bowed to her. "Thank you for being taking care of her once again." He nodded to her goodbye and stepped outside of the studio. Even as he stepped out, he saw the reflection of Michelle holding her hands around her chest. Elegant and pretty was the definition in Lincoln's brain.

He made it to the main corridor of the shopping center. As much he wanted to enjoy time with his sister, there was business to be tended. It was thanks to a tip from Clyde that he had a tail. He was suspecting it since the moment he stepped out of school and picked up Lily.

He wasn't a block from the shopping center when someone ran up and grabbed him on his shoulder. He looked around and saw the tail glaring at him, with rage in his eyes. The tail wasn't alone for there were two of his friends accompanying him from the vehicle that was following Lily and Lincoln earlier that day.

Actually, Lincoln knew they were tailing him for about a week or so. However, he kept his cool for he knew that they were in the public eye and wouldn't do anything to involve others. They were to wait when he was alone and the streets were desolate.

He kept a calm demeanor as the duo joined their leader. They, like the tail, displayed the same look on their face. Lincoln looked to the sky for this was the very day he didn't bring his brass knuckles with him. The tail gripped tightly on Lincoln's shoulder.

"Oi! So, Loud, are you are going to come easy or we are gonna beat your ass on this spot," spat the Tail. Lincoln's eyes darted to his pocket.

He's carrying.

Knowing he didn't have much options. He extended his arms in the air, alerting the others that he didn't have any weapons. The Tail, scratching his brown hair, reached around and patted Lincoln's jacket. He let out a weak smile. "He's clean. Come on."

The Tail and his friends surrounded Lincoln as they walked down the street. For anyone that was passing by, they would think they were a group of friends on a destination. Lincoln was worried, but he didn't have much options.

He was grateful that the trio did it without involving his sister, Lily. That would have been a different story.

They dragged Lincoln into a narrow alleyway. The Tail stood directly in front of him with his two friends holding him on either side. The Tail grabbed Lincoln by his collar. Lincoln was aware of his strength. Standing at six feet five inches and having a wrestler's build, the Tai was a force to be reckoned. The Tail had Lincoln lifted until he was standing tiptoed.

"You fucking rat," spat the Tail. "Your skunk-haired ass sold me out!"

Lincoln shook his head in disagreement, but kept calm, despite the situation.

"You sold me out," spat the Tail as spit splashed on Lincoln's face. "Do you know how much trouble I am going to be in now because of you?" The Tail bared his teeth as he brought his face closer to Lincoln. "You squealed! You're the only person who could've talked, you bitch!"

Lincoln snorted through his nose. His face furrowed. "Before you display your rancid breath to me, I didn't tell anything to nobody."

"You fucking lair," said one of the Tail's friends. "It was you! We are going to fuck you up for sure!"

"My ass is going down and I am gonna make sure your ass will be beat down," said the other.

"Like I said, I didn't say a word. I don't know who snitched, but guaranteed it wasn't me," said Lincoln.

Despite Lincoln's bravado, he was honestly in fear of his life. He knew of the Tail's aggressive, abusive reputation. A second year senior, he has seen more of the principal's office, detention, suspension, and the security enforcement officer's office than the classroom. A few weeks ago, Lincoln got involved with the Tail after witnessing him and his friends spying on the girls during P.E. Lincoln was aware of the secret exchange of gravure and selling girls' pictures. Not particularly interested, but he didn't know that he would have spot the Tail as a source.

The Tail threatened backlash to Lincoln if he told. Lincoln told him that he had his word. About a couple days ago, the Tail and his friends were sent to the office. They were immediately suspended from school and could possibly be charged for voyeurism. What made matters worse was that the Tail is a legal adult and the girls in the picture were underaged. He was facing a risk of being labeled as a sex offender.

Although Lincoln knew he wasn't responsible, but he knew it was a matter of time before the Tail came looking for him.

Lincoln suddenly felt the violent shakes of the Tail banging him against the wall. "You are going to make me lose anything I can get! If I am labeled as a predator, do you know I will fucking end you?" Lincoln saw the anger in his eyes. The fury of a bull, if he could describe it.

"Listen, Tail," said Lincoln as he struggled. "I promise you. I didn't snitch. I didn't tell no one. I don't know who did. You gotta understand, loose lips run high in this school."

"Really? You didn't snitch to no one?"

"I did not. No one knows but you guys."

"On your life?"

"On my life!"

The Tail glared at Lincoln for a moment. He scratched behind his forehead and shrugged his shoulders. "Okay, let him go!"

"The fuck," questioned one of the friends. "I didn't come here…."

"Shut the fuck up, man," said the Tail. "If Linky here didn't tell, he didn't tell. I mean, we were caught slipping." He turned to the duo. "Let him go!"

"But, Tail…"

"Let him go!"

One of the friends swore under his breath. They let go of Lincoln as he dropped to the ground. He straightened himself up. He whispered a prayer of thanks to God.

Before he could even pronounce a letter, he saw the smug smirk on the Tail's face. No time to react, no time to even think, he was met with one of the Tail's punches. With the first hit, Lincoln was down on all fours.

Lincoln could feel the side of his face stinging and realized that he was punched. Not even a second and he was met with another punch. His face hit the wall. He then was met with a kick to the face from the Tail's shoe.

"It was you, bitch," screamed the Tail. "Regardless it was or not, somebody is going to pay for this!"

Lincoln was lying on his back when he was met with a kick to the side. He could feel the cut in his mouth, the amount of blood releasing from there. Lincoln didn't have any methods but to defend himself. He covered his face and curled into a ball as the trio proceeded to kick him in the ribs over and over.

The finishing act was when the Tail pulled out his brass knuckles from his pocket and aimed it for Lincoln's mouth. The impact of the brass knuckles along with the wall knocked him into an unconscious state.


Lincoln opened the door to the loud sound of Michelle's car blaring. As she told him, she wasn't too far from his house. He was fortunate that she wasn't directly on Franklin Ave. He didn't want anything or anyone suspecting the whereabouts of a teenager in the middle of the night. He put on his seatbelt and situated himself. He was met with a warm kiss from her. He didn't return it. His eyes were closed, trying his hardest to combat the tears.

Michelle was wearing a plain t-shirt and a pair of jeans, which was atypical for her style of dress displayed elegance. She looked restless. Her eyes were bloodshot and judging by the twitching of her fingertips on the steering wheel, she neither had sleep or she returned smoking.

"Thank you for coming, darling," said the gentle voice of Michelle. Lincoln felt the soft touch of her hand rubbing the back of his neck. She continued rubbing through his hair. He let out a soft moan. He took a sharp breath before moving himself from her.

"I am here," said Lincoln. He, honestly, didn't know how state it. He was unsure if that meant that he was here for Michelle or was here to alert her of his presence. He rubbed the soreness of his knuckles. He still couldn't look at her in the eye.

"Let's leave the city for a bit," she told Lincoln.

"I think that is the best thing you truthfully said all day," said Lincoln.

Michelle gave him another kiss as she put the car into drive. The faint sound of the radio was playing. Lincoln recognized the tune. "Caught Up in the Rapture." A lovely serenade by Anita Baker.

It was the very song the duo first made love to.

Chapter Text

Saturday night would have been a perfect evening for Lincoln Loud. Today was an adventurous, exciting, lecherous day for the former virgin. He had finally consummated his relationship with the Latina beauty, Ms. DiMartino. His loins still lingered for her affection. He can still feel the tightness of her vagina and the pressure of her tongue when engaged in oral sex. He could still feel the tiles of the bathroom floor. Her body rubbing on top of him when they were lying on the mattress. Her grunts, her moans, her wants, her needs, her reprimands, her desires, his desires, their passion. He fell into the web of her embrace.

And that was a feeling he couldn't let go.

His evening was going to be spent consuming the soiled panties of his substitute teacher. He found suitable music to lighten the mood and a case of special lotion to tend to his needs. Although he had tasted the forbidden nectar of the Latin beauty and felt that his hand no longer suffice, but he needed stimulation and there was no way he was able to reach Ms. DiMartino. Not yet at least.

"Lincoln, do you have the latest issue of Assassination Classroom?"

Lincoln's mind had to refocus to the matter at hand. His plans came to a screeching halt. He turned from the laptop and saw Lynn lying on his bed reading feverently reading one of his mangas. From his position, it looked like the latest issue of The World God Only Knows.

After a delayed thought, he answered. "No, I don't have the latest issue. I didn't think you even like manga."

She stopped, darting her eyes at him. "I really don't care for it, but I take a gander every now and again." She flipped another page. "It isn't often I get the chance to spend time with you. It has been kind of distant."

He raised his eyebrow. "Distant you say? Didn't we just spent three fun-filled hours at Gus' Games and Grub together earlier?"

She scoffed while blowing a raspberry. "That is family night. One of the many nights of obligation time with all of the family members." She looked downward to the book. "I mean, we haven't spent that much time together. And I miss that!"

"Gee," replied Lincoln.

Lynn and Lincoln were on different parts of the spectrum. Recently, Lynn became more invested in sports, unabling her to participate with the family. Because of that, it questioned her relationship with Lincoln. She knew of his budding maturity and wanted to be a part of each and every moment with the white-haired child. In truth, she decided to spend this night with him because she wanted answers of what happened with Ms. DiMartino earlier that day.

Unbeknownst to Lincoln, Lynn had a watchful eye on him. The moment began at school earlier that week. One of Luna's friends Tabby came to Lynn with great concern. She asked the tomboy if they could meet after school alone. Lynn agreed. Lynn met Tabby at the shed. Tabby appreciated Lynn for coming and wanted to address to Lynn instead of the other Loud siblings. Her reasoning was because she felt that Lynn would have been more levelheaded than her counterparts.

Without baiting breath, she told Lynn that she believed that something was going between Ms. DiMartino and Lincoln. Tabby lives in the same neighborhood as the Latin beauty. Her house is directly from Ms. DiMartino's backyard. One afternoon, she peeked on the duo and observed Ms. DiMartino's body language. It was the way she presented herself to the teen that raised concern and suspicion. She addressed Lynn with concerning matter and wanted Lynn to look out for Lincoln.

Believing the concern of Tabby, Lynn took her advice. Over the last couple of days, she observed the behavioral pattern of Lincoln. It was little things that were peculiar. For instance, when he had text messages coming from friends like Clyde or Ronnie Anne, he had no discretion of answering in front of the family. When there were other text, he quickly stepped away to answer them. His absence were in between ten and fifteen minutes. Upon his return, when he was questioned by her mother or one of the Loud siblings, his excuse was he either had to use the restroom or it was over boring stuff that he didn't want to bother them.

Lincoln was a teenager and deserved privacy every now and again. Lynn, herself, would do the same thing, but at least address it to her parents on what boy she was engaged with. Lincoln, however, didn't. Although her parents supported Lincoln's choice of privacy, but in the back of her mind, red flags were raising. Being the inquisitive tomboy, she went lurking for more.

Confirmation occurred that Saturday morning after Lincoln's departure to Ms. DiMartino. She spent the latter part of her morning in bed watching YouTube videos on her tablet. About a minute into her fourth video, Lori came inside of her bedroom. Although comfortable around her sister, Lynn covered herself from her partial nakedness. Lori gave Lynn a blank stare, as if the question she was going to ask was odd. Lori asked Lynn has she been using any of her condoms.

Lynn crossed her arms in response of that question. Admittedly, the tomboy has engaged in oral sex with other boys; more or less for practice. However, she has yet "gone all the way." Lynn shook her head in disagreement and advised her to ask the other elder Louds. Lori responded to Lynn that she did, but each gave her the same answer. Lori told Lynn that she keeps the condom count to ensure supply. She has a certain limit that must be reached before acquiring more. As Lori debriefed her on condom mathematics, she said that normally she and Bobby used three condoms in each engagement. Four, if they had an off week. Before they had sex, Lori remembered counting twelve pack of condoms. Her cause of concern came that following morning when she counted six.

Lynn shrugged her shoulders, debating if Bobby took them home or they miscounted. Or, unlikely, but probable, maybe the younger Loud siblings have them. She stated that Lana would have used the latex as a balloon; maybe Lisa was experimenting; or Lily mistake them for gum. It wasn't the first time the youngest Loud did something out of a honest mistake.

Knowing her search led nowhere, she decided to go and ask Lincoln.

Lynn returned to her video for Lori should know that Lincoln had already left with their mother for Ms. DiMartino. At her fifth video, she could no longer focus on the wrestling for any position of a tightening pose reminded her of things she wanted to do with Lincoln.

A secret she has yet to expose or refuse to expose.

Her feelings for Lincoln have developed over a year ago. It was laundry day at the Loud house and it was her turn to do laundry. She had every sibling's clothes into the wash, except for Lincoln. Lincoln, tardy as always, waited the last minute to throw the load into the wash. Fortunately, she had no plans. So, for an additional five dollar late fee, she would do his clothes.

Lincoln returned to her a kiss on the cheek for gratefulness. Lynn was flattered. However, it wasn't the primer of Lynn's obsession with Lincoln. She was washing his underwear for his undergarments were part of the whites. It was when she saw dry patches of white stains on his underwear. No longer she was washing clothes of a boy. She was smelling a man in those used briefs.

To this very day, she occasionally borrows Lincoln's underwear for experimentation of her human sexuality. Of course, she borrowed the vernacular from Lisa, but any abysmal excuse of her denial of incestous feelings for the white-haired child.

Thinking of the possibility of Ms. DiMartino engaging in an affair with her brother was unriveting. The thought of a used cougar planting her dirty paws on a young cub made her filled with frustration and aggravation. She had planned to follow Lincoln that day, but was sideswiped with chores from their father. She had promised him the weekend before that she would assist him with the backyard. So, instead of tending to Lincoln's needs, her Saturday was spent tending to the backyard.

She couldn't concentrate the entire time at the arcade. While others were enjoying pizza and playing arcade games, her thoughts were filled with Lincoln. She watched text on the phone throughout their visiting. His smile, wider than it has ever been. Seeing his cheeks flushed, like a embarrassed shy schoolboy. Someone was garnering his attention and Lynn wanted the source.

She made it in her mind that she would extend family night with Lincoln in the bedroom. She hoped to discuss some things about Ms. DiMartino.

It was comforting that she was able to spend time with her brother, on his bed, filled with his scents. At the same, she wanted answers.

"If you feel that we don't spend that much time together, Lynn, then what should we do to fill that space?" Lincoln patted his knees. He crossed his legs while scratching his eyelids. The ball was now on Lynn's court. What play should she do next?

"If you would like, do you want to watch a movie with me," asked Lynn while displaying her doe-eyes. Lincoln had difficulty whenever Lynn displayed her pleas. The back of his mind was filled with his purpose plans of bathing in the musk of his Amelia. Nevertheless, tomorrow was Sunday. His family was secular and attending church was a Christmas and Easter thing. He would postpone his nightcap with Amelia's panties following the movie and sleep in until nine in the morning. Tomorrow, he had a full day with her and his mother.

What kind of things were planned. He whispered a prayer that Amelia wouldn't do anything out of the ordinary. Or at least when his mother is not around.

It was near ten in the evening when Lynn returned with a movie. She knew Leni was a fan of classic movies, she asked the dim-witted, but lovable blonde could she borrow any of her movies. Without a uncertainty of doubt, Leni permitted. Lynn searched through her closet for a movie she found suitable for she and Lincoln to watch. She knew Lincoln was a fanatic of eighties movies, thanks to Lori and decided River's Edge was a great choice. A movie starring Keanu Reeves and Crispin Glover in their foundation stage was awesome. Plus, the movie can act as an icebreaker to ask about Ms. DiMartino.

When returning to his bedroom, Lincoln was already dressed in his night attire. She blushed as he was wearing his boxers and plain t-shirt. Playing coy, she displayed a grin. "Decided to throw out the old tighty-whiteys?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, don't need them." He closed the closet door and sat on the floor. "Plus, I began noticing many of my briefs went missing."

Lynn covered her mouth to hide her grin, looking to the sky. "I can't tell. Sock goblins?"

"More like perverted goblins," interjected Lincoln. "But, hey ho!" He got to the bed. However, he was flushed when observing Lynn's attire.

Lynn was sporting a nightgown. It was white and sort of see-through. Fortunately, her bra covered her breasts, but he could still see the outlining of her panties. They were light pink.

"So, how you want to do this?" Lynn questioned Lincoln on bed arrangements.

"We can both just get in the covers. I am okay with that." His response was frank. Lynn couldn't tell rather the response was simply out of stating facts or shyness. She hoped for the latter. Lynn never wore that kind of attire. The option of wearing boy shorts and a plain t-shirt was the case. However, it wasn't every day to have this moment. With the door closed, and locked, she was going to have alone time with Lincoln.

Darkness filled the room, with the exception of glare coming from the television. The siblings were quiet. The volume was kept low enough to not disturb the other sleeping Louds. On the screen, the siblings were watching the scene when Crispin Glover's character, Layne, and Daniel Roebuck's character, John, were in Layne's car on their way back obtaining alcohol. What Lincoln gathered was that John killed his girlfriend, Jamie. John confessed his murder to his friends and evenso displaying her body to them. The body was left alone for several hours before Layne decided to get rid of the body. Lincoln whooped at the scene when he saw police cars surrounding John's house.

"Oh, God," cried Lincoln. "Somebody snitched."

"You don't say," replied Lynn. She studied Lincoln. She watched his facial expressions. She was watching a boy in his transition to manhood. She scooted closer with hopes he didn't notice. "Well, he addressed it to many people so it was no surprise that one of them have snitched."

"You're right, but it makes me think of loyalty."

"Loyalty?"

"Yeah," said Lincoln. "Regardless of the right or wrong, you should keep you things in line in keeping secrets."

"A proven fact," she asked while raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," he said. "I am loyalty to you. You are my sister."

She blushed. "Thank you," she said faintly.

"I am loyal to my sisters, my parents, Clyde, Ms. DiMartino," said Lincoln with the sound of absoluteness in his voice. "When I do something, regardless, loyalty is there."

She nodded. "You have always been more mature than your age allows."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it." She wrapped her arms around him tenderly. He didn't flinch. Lynn knew the shallowness of his breath that he was feeling funny. She pressed closer to him.

"Tell me your day with Ms. DiMartino."

His eyes widened, as if Lynn was the person responsible for setting the atomic bomb. He was Hiroshima and Amelia was Nagasaki. "My day with Ms. DiMartino?"

"Yes, Linc, who else?" She giggled very gingerly. She scooted away while removing her arms. She took the remote control and put the video on pause. Not wanting to make Lincoln uncomfortable, she allowed him space. If she was going to get anything, then she need him to be as comfortable as possible. "How was your time with Ms. DiMartino."

Lincoln swallowed a lump in his throat. "M-M-Ms. DiMartino? It was cool. Just help her out with cleaning her swimming pool?"

"Ms. D has a pool? Cool, I hope she lets us take a dip in the pool?"

I have taken more than just dips in the pool, sis. If you only knew.

"Here's hoping," said Lincoln while wiping his forehead. The uncertainty of the sweat from being with his sister or feeling like he was interrogated. "She is a very nice person. She offered me a job and I took it. I wanted to be useful is all."

"No worries, bro. There is nothing wrong in be useful." She lightly tapped him on the shoulder with her fist. "You have always been helpful. Always been a shining star. Always want to lend a hand. That is why you are the Jack-of-all-trades."

He swayed his hands. "You are making fun now. I just did because I enjoy helping her. I mean you know that I kinda like her."

She played coy once again. She raised her eyebrows. "Like her?" She nudged him with her shoulders.

"Ok, I really like her."

"Oh!" She looked away for a moment. "Nothing wrong with an innocent crush. I get them. You get them. It is perfectly natural."

Feeling moisture from the bed sheets, she opened the blankets, allowing cool air to soothe her legs. Lincoln blushed the moment her slender legs were on display. His breath became labored. He digress his thoughts. Why am I feeling like this? This is my sister. I know she is a girl and she will have figures of girls I like, but that is still my sister.

"Tell me, Lincoln," she blushed but kept his attention on Lincoln. "Have you ever masturbated?"

His eyes widened in disbelief of the question that came from his sister. Matter of factly, this situation was getting peculiar for the fact they were cuddled in a position like lovers. No sister in the free world would wear an outfit like that for their brother. Something was in the water, but he was too afraid to address it to his tomboyish sister. "Is that something we shouldn't discuss in front of each other?"

She tilted her head. "Why is it weird? We are siblings. I think it is better than asking some stranger."

"It still feels odd though," said Lincoln as he scooted a bit further from Lynn.

"Well, I don't feel weird about it," said Lynn. "You are my brother. You are my only brother." She allured her eyes to Lincoln. She scooted further into his position. "You don't have anything to worry about. What we discuss here is between the both of us. No one is going to know." She extended her pinky. "I swear. Do you?"

He sighed, knowing that his soft side of being a brother was occurring. "I swear." He extended his pinky. "To answer you question, yes I masturbate."

She smiled. "Thank you for displaying your openness. To tell you the truth, so do I!"

Lynn explained to Lincoln about her reasons of masturbating and she found it as a relief of stress. She did explain that it was also a source of alleviating her sexual tension. She hoped that her explanation would get some kind of information out of Lincoln.

"I never knew girls felt like that."

"Of course, Linky," she said. "Girls get horny, too. We just don't state it like you guys."

"You won't hear it from me. I am very private."

She giggled. "Your turn!"

"Say what?"

"Since I told you what I do to mastubate. Now it is your turn."

"Lynn, this is getting awkward again."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Pinky swore."

He lifted his head in frustration of the pinky swore. "Okay, I think about the girls at my school. I think about girls I see on TV."

"Porn?"

"Mom and Dad have parental blocks. Remember with Luan?"

"She did have quite a hard on for inanimate object porn."

Both giggled of the pun that Luan would've loved. Although Lincoln had a feeling that Luan woke up to a sneeze. Let's just hope she return to sleep.

"So, what kind of girls," questioned Lynn.

"Older girls," said Lincoln. "I always preferred Latina girls, but I am an equal-opportunity person."

She purred. "You have always been on the brown spectrum. Nothing wrong with that. Girls like Ronnie Anne and Ms. DiMartino?"

He shied away but managed to say yes to her answer.

A knock came to the door. A knob was turned, but was locked. "Lincoln, is everything alright in there?"

Lincoln heard his mother at the door. He got from the bed to answer the door. "Strange, I didn't know it was locked." He added. "Hold on a sec, Mom." He unlocked the door and his mother entered the room. She was wearing her bathrobe. Her hair was wrapped in a ponytail. She smelled fresh like she can from the shower. She scanned the room and saw the blushing Lynn in his bed.

"I hope I am not walking into anything, am I? Rita raised her eyebrows, keeping her hands on her hips.

"No, ma'am," answered Lincoln. "Lynn and I were watching a movie and having sibling talk."

She shook her head. "I know I shouldn't been worried, but it is late and I think it is time you guys go to bed." She turned to Lincoln. "Remember, we have our thing with Ms. DiMartino in the morning."

"I know. I know," said Lincoln. "Hey, mom. Is it okay if Lynn stays the night with me?"

Rita closed her eyes and pondered on the question. "I don't see anything wrong with it." She reached into his drawer and tossed a pair of shorts to Lynn. "If she changes her attire, then it is permissible."

Rita came to the bed and kissed Lynn on her forehead. She returned to Lincoln and kissed him on his cheek. She whispered something incomprehensible that Lynn didn't pick up. She kissed Lincoln again and closed the door.

A few moments later, Lynn was wearing the shorts that their mother picked out for her. They resumed the movie until she watched Lincoln drifted into sleep. As he lied sleeping, she sniffed his hair, inhaling his manly scent. As much as she wanted to masturbate in his bed, she didn't want to disturb the sleeping child. A kiss to his lips had to suffice until she, too, drift into slumber.

As she shut her eyes, her plan was to investigate Ms. DiMartino's relationship with Lincoln. And that will begin on the following morning.

Chapter Text

Cassandra is the first person I have met in this level beyond human. That is real name and prefers not to be called by that name. Her name derived from her mother's name, Cassandra, but they have called her San. She wanted me to call her Granny. Granny? Quite strange for a girl who is near my age. She doesn't look like a grandmother. Her wrinkleless ivory skin doesn't appear to be frail and tired. Her candid features doesn't displays any features of being an old woman. She puts her fingers to my lips, enticing me that I am talking too much. She closes my eyes and displays the visuals of why her name is her name.

Cassandra grew up in the rural Mississippi Delta. She was one of twelve children. At the age of fourteen, she was an aunt and her siblings have yet to turn eighteen. Her mother worked in a town two hours away, unabling to take care of her and her siblings. She was left in the care of her great-grandmother for her grandmother didn't even give her or her siblings a passing thought. It was through her great-grandmother that raised her to the best of her abilities, in a sense of how she was raised in the era of sharecropping in the latter half of the twentieth century.

Despite her flawless, bedeviling smile she harvested, there is such an obtuse life she hidden within her. She hasn't explained why she was called Granny. She told me to read into her thoughts and the proof would be revealed within.

Education wasn't a primary factor into her household. Immediately after school she was in the care of taking care of her siblings and her cousins. They lived in a trailer on the weekdays. The weekends were back in their mother's corrugated shack. She didn't like going to the shack for their were many strange bedfellows residing with her. They were very fond of the nubile teen for they, too, mentioned how smooth her skin was. Many, many times the teen had that mentioned whenever the company of her mother entered her room in the darkness of night.

A tear wants to escape, but she held it, allowing it to come on her finger. It quickly dissolves. She explains that she wasn't yet finished. She let out a smile, telling how natural it is for tears to escape. She tells me that where her great-grandmother lived, they didn't have any running water. Every other day, she and her great-grandmother travelled by car to the local jailhouse. Fourteen miles, the women came with buckets to fill their water for the residence. One lone house in the creaks of a sewer, ready for the girls to use to take care of their needs. Her great-grandmother sitting in the car, waving her fan because of the sweltering heat and no air conditioning. Granny, pulling bucket after buckets to the concrete. Her bare soles touching the hot pavement to get the water. She purposefully filled the water to provide for her family. Forgive her if some water dropped on her feet to relieve the aches, she grins to me.

She returned home. Her brothers come to help her while her great-grandmother went inside and prepared for dinner. Granny, tending to her aching soles, especially when she got sores and cuts from the amount of rocks. She prayed to not step on glass.

Granny tells me that she is to watch over me as I am transitioned into the level beyond human. I ask her if this is heaven. She shakes her head, but can't tell if that it is a "yes" or a "no."

"Heaven is a representation of your prospective," she tells me. "If your heaven is based on the God-Jesus concept, then it is there. If not, than maybe it is through Muhammad." She rubs her arm. "What I am trying to tell you is that you are in a position that unables to pinpoint your destination."

"Like purgatory," I question to her.

"In a sense, but that isn't my job to explain or to tell," she says. "My job is to get you comfortable as possible before we can pinpoint your place. There are certain things down there that isn't yet finished with you."

"I am confused. So, this isn't heaven, but you just…." She stops, giving me a frown that reminds me much of Lori whenever I question her logic.

"What I am saying is to be comfortable and just relax for the time being." Granny takes me by the hand. "Come on, I will show you where you are staying."

We continue walking in this strange paradigm I am going to call my personal heaven. I know I am in a level beyond human, but it captivates me on how much my personal heaven is transitioning. Throughout my walk, I picture my neighborhood and how everything is supposed to be. No longer am I walking in blinded light, but instead walking on Franklin Avenue. I am recognizing the suburban landscape. The identical two-story homes with a single driveway. A magnolia or oak tree on every other home. Or that one bike a child forgets in front of their house. A somber feeling enters, giving me something to think.

Giving me something to dream.

Granny returns to the story of her troubled life. She tells me she find comfort in taking care of elderly citizens. One field trip to the "nursery home" gave her aspiration of being a nurse. She empathized them for their helplessness, their loneliness, and their wants of being accepted in their later years. They were the forgotten, the misbegotten. It was everything that restored the faith in Granny's life.

Granny spent her early years of high school catering to the elderly. So much so, she acquired help from her teenage aunt to get her away from the desolate Delta living. Thanks to a slip of paper, she was removed from those household and relocated to Memphis. Although she remained poor, she felt rich in the sense of regaining her freedom. No longer chained to condoning of housework, babysit, and serving as a lady of the night for her mother's company. She had a purpose. Every day after school, she walked two miles from her high school to the nursing home volunteering. Her smile brightening anyone who dared enter the facility. She was a personal favorite. Though she had troubles of her past hovering over her, her smile overlooked anything. Even if she had her difficulties of reading, she still read to them. It didn't matter for the errors. They were grateful of her company.

She takes me to a place that brings me comfort. A place where my life began.

My home.

I drop to my knees as I see the very thing that is making my cheeks swell, a lump in my throat, and the urge to bust and scream to the family members.

"I am home."

Silence, nothing but my voice wavering into the silence.

I am not home. I am not in the comfort of my parents. I am not in the hands of my sisters. I am not a pain, but I still see the scars. I am still at the level beyond human. My personal heaven.

I walk to the porch where I have spent many, many days. I put my hand where the loose floorboard exist. What should have been there is my latest edition of Ace Savvy. I have kept it there for safekeeping. It could have been in my room, but why make a task unadventurous?

I put it aside. Granny comes and join me. "Your upbringing is quite different." She inhales. "Your air is quite clearer than mine. Your environment is safe." She turns to me. "You are quite loved. I can see it on your face. I can see it everywhere. Your family is missing you."

"You can tell?"

"I am your mentor. I am aware of the file that is given to me." She returns to looking at the tree. "A tree was something I always wanted as a kid." She let out a smile. "I wanted a treehouse. I wanted a fort. A place where no boys were allowed. I can be free and the world was my crawfish."

"Should it be an oyster?"

"Hey, I am from the South. Also, have your own concept, mister." She taps my shoulder.

"If you are Southern, then should you have an accent?"

She frowned. "This is my personal heaven. My accent is without flaws. I didn't talk like this when I lived there."

She taps me once again for interrupting her story. I stop to listen.

"The land was bare. The nearest we had was cotton. Cotton was the king of the Delta, the king of Mississippi." She scoffed. "I hated cotton. I couldn't forget the time when I saw my great-grandmother brought a branch from the trunk. She got her shovel and dug deep. She put the branch in the ground and poured some water." She turns to Lincoln. "She maybe thought it would grow."

She lifts her neck. My eyes widen. "I was always fascinated with trees. It's color, beauty, changes, everything. I didn't expect it to also lead to my death." She closes her eyes. "Love can be the most tranquil thing a person may experience, Lincoln." She sighs. "But love can be hatred as well. Others? You? Or in this case, myself."

She committed suicide on her sixteenth birthday. Love was the motive. As she sat in front of a tree on a rainy night. She held two pieces of paper in her hand. One was a suicide note and the other was a pregnancy test.

"Lincoln, I know you want to cry for me, but don't," responds Granny as she wipes her tears. "Crying was such a sin back home that it hurts. We vented in different ways, becoming numb. I know in your heart, you are a bleeder. You care like I did. Probably why I was assigned to watch over you."

She gives me a key. I swallow as it looks identical to my house key. "This is your heaven, Lincoln. Choose your heaven on how it should be." She takes a breath. "It is not home. You won't find your parents or your sisters. I can promise you that everything is left how you want it."

She stands up and dust herself off. She walks a few paces before turning around. "If you need anything, just let me and I can assist."

"Matter-of-factly, I do." I stand up and walk down the stairs. "Am I able to see my family."

"Of course," she smiles. "You have the ability to watch over people."

"Even their whole lives?"

"Yes, sir. Look at it as watching television. You can watch whoever you want." She walks down the street. I call her name once more. "Why are you called Granny?"

She pauses. "Because of my wisdom. And because of my bickering and slowness as a kid. Farewell."

She disappears mysteriously as she appeared. I take short breaths, knowing I am going to enter a room without my family.


It was ten o'clock on that Friday evening when Luna received a phone call from her mother. She was having music practice with Sam and her crew. Because of the weather, she decided to stay over with her girlfriend until the weather died down. She was sitting in the garage with her members, listening to music and smoking marijuana when she heard the call.

She jumped from Sam's lap, didn't want the background noise interrupting the call. She was supposedly studying at the library at the community college for an upcoming exam. She walked into the laundry room when she answered the call.

"Hey, mom," said Luna. "I was getting ready to…"

"Luna," said her mother. Her tone was concerning for it was very raspy, as if she has been crying. "I wanted to know if you have seen Lincoln?"

She rubbed her eyes, looking at the time on her cell phone. "Lincoln isn't at home? Have you checked Clyde's or Ronnie Anne's?"

"None of them has seen them," replied her mother panickedly. "Clyde told me that they went their separate ways when school ended. Ronnie Anne even offered him a ride and he turned it down. They both said the last time they saw him was at school and that was hours ago."

Luna gripped the phone. She was trying not to panic. Luna believed for me to be the very resourceful, responsible type. She knew I wouldn't go anywhere without informing anyone. Unless, it was something she and I did as an uniformed decision.

Luna and I are very close.

Luna and I were very close.

"Mom, maybe he went to Rocky's or some other friends," she tried telling her mother. "Have you called the police?"

"Yes," she exclaimed. "Because of his age, they think he is a runaway. I can't file anything until twenty fours have been reached." She began to panic. "That is too long to bare, Luna. It is ten o'clock at night. It is cold and a blizzard is coming! Where are you?"

"I am still at S...library," said Luna.

"Please come home, dear," screamed her mother. "Dad and Lori are walking the neighborhood. One of the neighbors is searching as well. Please come home, darling."

"I will, I will," she told her mother. "I will be on my way."

Luna hang up the phone and tucked in her lip. She hoped that I was playing a game. She hoped that I was somewhere safe. She went and called for me.

Hi, this is Lincoln. I am unable to answer because I am either drawing or sleeping. Leave me a message.

She called again.

Hi, this is Lincoln. I am unable to answer because I am either drawing or sleeping. Leave me a message.

She called again.

Hi, this is Lincoln. I am unable to answer because I am either drawing or sleeping. Leave me a message.

She gave up on the fifteenth call.

Chapter Text

It felt like his brain was going through a whirlpool. He felt that his synapses were going into eight million directions at once. The surge of pressure from the blunt object hitting his once. The agonal breathing he had to succumb before paralyzing into an unconscious state. Ringing occurring in his eyes as the goons continued attacking him; pelting him and kicking him until they were too tired to continue. Although it was the Tail that delivered the finishing blow, it was one of his goons who dished out the coup d'etat. He opened his zipper and pulled out his penis. The gnashing of teeth and the haughty laugh of the goon as he urinated on Lincoln. The others saw and proceeded to join their comrade-in-arms. The Tail spat on Lincoln and urged the others to leave for evening traffic was picking up. Alone Lincoln was after leaving the school and alone he was in the alleyway. Misbegotten and injured, the concrete served as his bed and the snow accompanying the concrete on the unconscious Lincoln.

He was nauseated, never in his life has he been put in this position. He had faced bullying through the teasing of Ronnie Anne, but never in that degree. He faced some incidents in the latter part of high school, but he always kept his peace. With the exception of Clyde, although he and Clyde attend different schools, he was a loner. He had difficulty fitting in at his school.

The Tail and his goons made a sheer reminder of his unwelcoming.

Water, water, the white-haired child thought to himself. He was parched for water, something to alleviate his headache, his sickness. Slowly, he was drifting in-and-out of consciousness. He barely felt the snow touching his exposed body. He barely felt that stray cat coming to lick his wounds. He barely saw that vehicle coming into the alleyway. He tucked in his eyes, fearing that it was the Tai and his goons returning for more.

He counted to himself until he felt they were to leave. He heard the slamming of a door. He continued counting to himself.

Lily, stay in the car.

Lincoln kept counting; he wanted to drift away. Away from the pain.

Lincoln, I am here. Oh my God, what happened to you?

He was gracious that Lily was safe in the arms of her music teacher. He silently prayed for her safety when he knew the goons were following him.,

Lily, grab the blanket in the backseat. Pass it to me.

He continued counting, praying that the goons wouldn't return to the music school after Lily, after Michelle. He knew if they were capable of attacking him, then maybe Lily would be insurance. He knew of the Tail's reputation. Spying on girls were the least of the Tail's troubles. His troubles extended in gambling, extortion, and assault.

Don't worry, Lincoln. I am here. C'mon, I will get you up.

There was a girl by the name of Midori. Midori was a classmate of Lincoln's. They had art class together. What he admired about Midori was the expression she displayed in her art. She was hard of hearing and communication was difficult. Nevertheless, her words were expressed in her work. It spoke wonders, beyond words, beyond comprehension. Lincoln loved it and at the same time, valued for her, cared for her, and honestly, he started to fall for her.

Unfortunately, the day he was going to confess, the Tail made his rounds to the art room after school. The school was liberal, allowing access until they closed in the evening. Midori tended to stay alone. Lincoln would have gone there, but he had to take care of duties he could no longer remember. It didn't matter for the Tail administered his green light special on the poor girl. From what the rumor mill told him, he asked Midori on a date. Politely, she turned him down. Because of his ill-mannered personality and unfamiliarity of the word, no, he persisted. When she refused again, he forced himself on him.

She cried and pleaded for help, but it had fallen on deaf ears. Once again, the rumor mill said that Midori was sexually assaulted. Midori didn't come to school the next day. She didn't come to school the day after that.

Lincoln learned that Midori became homebound. He came one afternoon to visit her, but her parents didn't want any visitors from that school. They shut the door and that was the last time he had heard of Midori.

Don't worry, Lincoln. I will get you some help. Don't cry, Lily. He is going to be fine. We just need to be prayerful. I can still feel his pulse. So, don't cry, Lily.

Karma has no expiration date was the saying Lincoln told Clyde when he handed the evidence of the Tail's pictures of spying on their female classmates. Clyde, with his experience and expertise in photography, joined Lincoln as they pursued the Tail on his misadventures. Although Lincoln wasn't responsible for telling on the Tail, he was responsible for his downfall.

He knew it was a matter of time before the Tail would get to him. He wanted restitution. He wanted justice. There was a girl crying in agony at home who was unsung. A girl crying herself to sleep and beating herself up for losing her virginity. A girl who wanted a prince but instead confined to a toad. Lincoln wanted to be that prince and was robbed of that opportunity.

Lincoln, wake up, please. Please, darling, wake up.

Once again, he returned to his unconscious state. He saw his brain trying to flicker, alerting him that he needed to wake up. He couldn't see, but he felt his brain telling him to wake up. Figuring out something to wake himself up, he started to clap his hands. When he felt it wasn't enough, he did it harder. He continued clapping and clapping until he felt his body waking up. He continued until he felt oxygen coming into his body.

I am starting to feel a pulse. He is being stabilized. Repeat, the patient is becoming alert.

When Lincoln opened his eyes, he saw the ceiling moving sporadically. He was seeing people covered in masks. He thought he saw one with a stethoscope.

Everything is going to be okay, sir.

"Where am I," asked Lincoln as he realized that he was feeling an apparatus around his face. As he observed further, he realized that it was an oxygen mask.

"You are at the hospital," said the doctor. "We are going to get checked out."

"What happened to me," asked Lincoln. "What happened to me? Where is Lily? Where is Lily?" Lincoln was gasping for air as he was extending his arms. He was trying to fight, but the surgeons held him down.

"Sedate the patient until he is stabled," said the surgeon.

"Roger that," said the other doctor.

Lincoln cried as the syringe entered his vein. He continued extended his arms until they were getting weaker. No longer was he seeing the ceiling or the doctors, his eyes drooped once more into an unconscious state.


Johnson's Creek was the place where Michelle and Lincoln were to be found. The vehicle was turned off and the pair sat in silence. Lincoln stared at the window. There was nothing to see but darkness. Michelle looked at the steering wheel, staring into nothing as well as they were all engulfed in darkness. Before arriving to the place, the news reported of power outages in the area. With the pair familiar with the area, it was less likely of someone or something were to look for them.

Michelle pulled out a cigarette and inhaled before pouring it into the night's sky. The window was down, allowing the breeze to enter the car. Before Michelle could speak, Lincoln opened the door and stepped out of the car. Pursuant to Lincoln, she joined him as well.

The sound of rocks accompanied the footsteps of Lincoln when he sat on her hood. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a pack of cigarettes as well. He lied back on the hood, allowing its heat to comfort him on this cool night. The ring of smoke blending in lingering smoke that it attracted the flying creatures of the night. In a way, he was grateful for the silence, leaving him time to think. Thinking has been the latest subject of his brain.

Michelle vacated the thought she wanted to say, but instead sat beside him and smoked. Every other second, the end of the cigarette flickered like fireflies.

"So," said Lincoln as he flickered his ash onto the ground. "What are we going to do?"

Chapter Text

So let's not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don't give up.

He stood alone in the chapel. He felt the cold, hard stone on his knees. He put his hands together like he did when he was with his classmates. Those were his orders from Sister Mary Sakurai. She prowled through the pews, her green eyes sweeping over the top of the lone head in the chapel. She watched him, observed him, doing what he was told. His hands were put together. His eyes were closed. The words continued repeatedly until she was convinced it was believable.

So let's not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don't give up.

She told the kneeling teen to recite the prayer until she felt it was convincing enough for her forgiveness. She expressed in grave detail it was for the forgiveness of his sins to God. She stayed in position, watching him continue to recite the prayer. She kept her arms folded. Her ruler, which many knew it was her enforcer, standing by for any mistakes.

So let's not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don't give up.

Lincoln Loud was feeling ill. He was kneeling in this position for the past few hours. His knees were numb, but feared any reprimand from the strict sister, or better yet, her enforcer. She often checked if he was kneeling well, with their back straight, their hands even. Her ruler protruding his back served as a warning for his hands were the potential strike zone of infliction.

Sister Sakurai's footsteps echoed loudly through the chapel. Lincoln felt her presence looming over him. Since entering this private school, he has been subjected to the frequent reprimands of Sister Sakurai. From walking the wrong way, saying an inappropriate comment, or even expressing an opinion, he was immediately sent to the chapel and to confess his wrongdoings to her.

So let's not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don't give up.

He slowly opened one eye to observe the chapel. Images of a dying man surrounding his vision. Many images of the same man. He was almost naked, bleeding everywhere, and his eyes were rolled back. He adorned a crown that was made of thorns. There were nails in between his hands.

Suddenly, he pried open to see the tall, pale woman in black and white. Her eyebrows were furrowed. Her green eyes narrowed. Her hand was focused on the enforcer. Lincoln closed his eyes for the inevitable.

The frustrated sister sighed. "Why must you make everything difficult, Loud?"

He looked to the woman of God with doe eyes. Her eyes were locked at him, expressing frustration toward the child. "A lost sinner I am," said Lincoln. "Bound to sin and ready to perish."

"Trifling you may be," said Sister Sakurai. "But, I have something to remedy that, boy!"

She pulled Lincoln from the pew and dragged him to the altar. "You must remedy your sins and take care of your penance for your salvation." She told him get on his hands and knees. He followed her directions. She sighed loudly as she reached her ruler she called the enforcer. She was ready to make her move.

She placed the ruler on his butt. He didn't flinch. "Say your penance, Loud."

So let's not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don't give up.

"Again," she demanded as she gave another lashing to the white-haired child.

So let's not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don't give up.

"Again," she said as she applied pressure to him.

So let's not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don't give up.

After giving him some additional lashing, she stopped, relieving the enforcer on the table. She rubbed her hands before putting her hands on Lincoln. "You may stand, Loud."

"Yes, Sister Sakurai."

Lincoln stood weakly. His knees were aching and partially numbed for the duration of his position. He kept his composure as his butt was in pain. It wasn't the first time to succumb to this punishment. Just as he got adjusted to attending this private school, the more he became accustomed to the environment, especially when dealing with Sister Sakurai.

"Your punishment isn't finished. You must tend to your studies," she said with a serious tone. "You are to report here this evening after the others retire to bed. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sister."

"Good, now leave me be. See you don't do this again, Loud."

"Yes, sister."

Lincoln bowed before departing to return to his classmates. Many kept silent for they knew what happened earlier. If they only knew that punishment didn't compare on what would happen when the others go to bed.

Chapter Text

This story is an alternative to the original story, When The Smoke Clears, The Uninvited Comes from the anthology series, Stories From The Outernet. As much as I enjoy the drama within that particular story, this story is an alternative version. So, there is plenty of lemon, romance, and awkwardness between the blossoming teens. That is why Stories From The Outernet is the off-centered, eccentric version of The Anthology of the Loud House and It's You Girls' Fault For These Random Moments.


 It wasn't everyday Lincoln was going to have female company at his house. But on this particular Saturday, it was happening. It wasn't as subtle as a typical romance. A girl asks a boy out and comes over to make dinner. Instead, it was Ronnie Anne pinning Lincoln to his locker in her demand to come over on Saturday night for dinner. She demanded a candlelight dinner, a movie, and even champagne in the hot tub. He didn't know where to acquire a hot tub, but Ronnie Anne politely told him to become creative. She finished the demand by giving him a wedgie and a wet willie. It didn't go without a peck on the cheek from his bedeviled, vile girlfriend. Never did a kiss felt savored. For a moment, his tongue didn't need to reside on the bathroom floor.

Everything was going along smoothly. He ordered take-out from Gus' Games and Grub. As an ill-attempt of a gourmet meal, he put the take-out into an oven and let it settle so it can a homemade feeling. Of course, he was being cheap and the only thing he could make without burning the kitchen was his grilled cheese sandwich with jelly and peanut butter and sauerkraut sandwiches. Speaking of which, he checked on his "homemade" pizza.

He was thankful to have the home alone. Acquiring alone time wasn't easy. It didn't take much of a genius to stick a thermometer under his lamp until it was hot enough to put into his mouth. Sick with worry, his parents wanted to decline family night to tend to him. Dramatic he portrayed, he told his pleading family to not worry about him. He had his soup and orange soda to hold him for the night. He didn't want to be the source of a failed Saturday. His sisters were grateful and promised to return him a program and something from the gift shop. He was sad and upset that he couldn't go to a Four Non-Blondes concert. He was really shocked to not see them. Woes were Lincoln as he bid them farewell.

They departed along with his sarcasm of not attending the concert.

He checked his watch. He had about twenty minutes before Ronnie Anne's arrival. As for their movie selection, Ronnie Anne wanted something cheesy. Something so horrible that they need to laugh at the movie's failure to launch. They decided on three movies: Pootie Tang, The Adventures of Pluto Nash, and Failure to Launch.

Lincoln and Ronnie Anne were served the same dish as Seth MacFarlane's view on Matthew McConaughey.

As for the champagne in the hot tub, he was able to acquire non-alcoholic carbonated grape juice. He hoped she couldn't tell the difference. He found his mother's bath beads and tossed in the tub before…. He paused for the moment upon the realization of Ronnie Anne's final request.

Champagne in the hot tub? What is she getting at? Is she trying to imply something? I mean, what the what?!

Knowing the traditional route of a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship would have eventually led to the hot tub, but so soon? He was thinking that they have yet gone on a few dates. They have only kissed about three times. Are they ready for the next step, he was thinking after turning the dial for the water in the bathtub.

With everything in place, he was ready for tonight. Then, he forgot the final piece of the puzzle, his clothing. He wasn't sure what attire she was ready, but he needed to be somewhat formal. He returned to his bedroom with haste in search of clothing. No time for a shower, he sprayed his body with cologne and air freshener, just in case. He went into his closet and pull on a pair of khaki slacks and an orange long-sleeve buttoned-down shirt. He looked in the mirror and put a mint in his mouth.

Lincoln Loud was finally ready for tonight.

He slid down the stair railings and returned to the kitchen. He pulled his pizza out of the oven. The dinner table has already been set. The movies were on the living room table, ready for play. The bathroom was ready for their "finale."

Everything was planned to the best of his ability. Lincoln snapped his fingers as he took a seat at the table. He did a double take on the arrangements of the table.

He heard a knock at the door.

It was time. Lincoln swallowed a lump in his throat. He silently prayed to God for a great evening. He checked his hair; checked his breath; checked his underarms. He nodded his head.

"Here I come," Lincoln called out from the kitchen. He trailed into the living room. He reached for the flowers that he purchased for Ronnie Anne, which was upon request from a text later on that day. He opened his door and presented his gift to his guest."

"Wow, you actually brought flowers," his guest said in a surprised tone, inhaling the scent of the flowers. "They smell...like you actually spin some coin." She lowered the flowers to see Lincoln, as he was displaying his nervousness.

"No, of course, not, Ronnie Anne," said Lincoln while rubbing the back of his head. He already feel the sweat vacating his underarms. He hoped that his father's aftershave on his underarms could mask the scent. Wait a minute, he thought, does aftershave belong on underarms? He negated the thought as he extended his door to allow Ronnie Anne's entrance.

He blushed as he saw the abrasive, bullying teen wearing a sundress. It was a drop to his mouth to see the tomboy in an actual dress. Whether her mother went to the nearest store to buy her ensemble or Vans or Nike sported that outfit, he was pleasantly surprised to see her wear such a dashing wardrobe. Retrospectively, he saw her in a skirt when they visited that Mexican-French fusion restaurant, but she claimed to burn it after their date. It wasn't until the snap of her fingers to return the stunned Lincoln to reality.

"Hello, stupid," she called to Lincoln while yelling into his ears. "Are you contacting Planet Earth from that orbit of a big head?"

He scoffed. "Please, easy with the quips, Ronalda." He felt that sting when calling her Christian name. She turned red, easily wrapping her fist into defensive mode. She then relaxed, whispering to herself before calming. Maybe the reminder of her idea of dinner and this not being her house calmed the sleeping giant. She walked a few steps into the living room. She heard light jazz music playing in the background.

She walked further and smelled scented candles. Lavender, if she wasn't mistaken. Smell like the stuff her mother buys from the dollar store, but she would give him a B for effort. She reminded herself that this was her idea for the date, so lighten up on the white-haired boy she told herself.

"Jazz, candlelights in the living room," she said while hiding her true expression of flattery and embarrassment. "It is just a date between teenagers, not college sweethearts."

"Hey, you said a cheesy date," he coughed. "So, a cheesy date is begin acquired."

He heard the sound of the oven going off.

"Speaking of cheezy, the pizza is ready," said Lincoln. He pointed his finger in a form of excuse and sprinted into the kitchen. It wasn't until Ronnie Anne pulled him from his collar.

"Wait a minute, skunk breath," she said. She closed her eyes, keeping her composure. "I think it is gentleman thing to take my coat."

He laughed, shrugging his shoulders. He was pacing back and forth, containing his nervousness. "Coat? Sorry about that. Not easy doing this."

"Not easy for you to be a weirdo. But, at least your weirdo self is cleaning up nice," she said in a form without trying to insult him. "Take my coat, please."

Lincoln nodded to her. He took her coat, carefully not to wrinkle it. It looked expensive, he believed. He went to the linen closet and dropped it off. He then made his way to the kitchen to retrieve his "homemade pizza."

Ronnie Anne observed the living room while Lincoln was in the kitchen. It was not her first time in the Loud household. She had many events here. However, this was her first time alone with him. Believe it or not, the tomboy was nervous. She borrowed bra pads from her mother to put on her underarms to cover the sweat. If Lincoln was looking closely, she stuffed tissues in her training bra to display of a mature, robust woman. She tried to be as sexy as possible. Even the sundress she bought from her collection of stolen lunch money.

She told herself that it was her idea and she wanted to use this opportunity to have Lincoln alone. She wished she wasn't conflicted in her emotions. But for now, she was doing the best she can. She saw Lincoln struggled with the pizza. He forgot to get oven mitts. He screamed, dropping the pizza on the tray while running to the sink. She laughed silently. She knew the pizza wasn't homemade. She saw the pizza boxes sticking out of the garbage can.

"Ow, ow, ow," cried Lincoln before returning to the kitchen. He saw Ronnie Anne. "I mean ow, this pizza I made is so slamming, Ronnie Anne. You might just get lost in the sauce with this." He winked.

She pushed him to the size. "Yeah, yeah, lame-o. Save that lame ass line for the fool who writes those lame ass jokes. And by a fool, I mean Luan."

"At least I am not your brother my sister has under her contacts as Little Caesars," murmured Lincoln under his breath. "Hot and Ready."

"What was that," interjected Ronnie Anne, smiling with her hand tightly fisted and eyebrows furrowed.

"Nothing," he replied nervously.

"Sweet," she answered smiling. She hit him on the back of his shoulder.

Chapter Text

Lucy took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the fallen pine needles. Autumn made its entrance onto Royal Woods and November gave them such an introduction to their usual, cold Midwestern weather. She gave her usual trademark sigh, watching the sun making its final peak below the horizon. She had a lot on her mind and didn't want to display it in front of her family members. Instead of her routine of sneaking into the air ducts, writing poetry of darkness and opaque matters of the heart, she wanted to be in the openness. She wanted to rest below the stars. Next to her was her MP3 player. She may be one of the last people to possess an item of the early 21st century, but it was retrograde and Lucy didn't mind it. She exhaled, lying back to welcome the stars onto the horizon. Something that was unusual for she loved the darkness. However, she didn't want to be alone. Contradicting for she wanted to be with the stars instead of her family members. Maybe it was because they were unable to understand the sulky, obtuse Lucy. Even so, she too possessed the ability to garner feelings besides darkness. Transcendentalism brings her happiness. The words that bring detriments are enjoyable. But, when it comes to actually feeling within her heartstrings, it was a different story. Sometimes, she wanted to express her true feelings, but fear of her family's ill-understanding.

Many reasons why she confided her worries into her writing and into the music she listened to.

She made a slight turn when hearing the latch unlocked. When seeing the familiar face, she let out a slight smile.

"Hello, big bro," answered the gothic, black-haired child.

"Hey, Luce," said Lincoln. "I knew you were on the roof and figured that you have some things on your mind. However, I wanted to see if you were in the mood for dinner. Mom made chicken spaghetti."

"Sigh," she responded. "Honestly, my heart is too full of grief to eat." She made another sigh, returning to her post on the roof. "I just don't know what to feel right now."

Lincoln closed the hatch. He walked the few paces to the edge where Lucy reside. "If you don't mind for company, may I sit with you."

She patted the empty area. "Sure, bro. Join me in this darkness of night."

"Yeah, yeah, sure."

Lincoln made his way to his sister. She returned to her looking at the stars. They were dimming bright tonight. Not every day to see such bright constellations. He believed that he could go deeper into the constellations and find many great discoveries.

His eyes shot at Lucy's MP3 player. He quietly hid his laughter of the primitive device. He picked it and saw one of Lucy's favorite musicians.

His eyes shot when seeing the familiar musician's name. His name has been the talk of the school. There have been mentions of his name throughout social media, the internet, newspapers, everywhere. He was an upcoming rapper in the subgenre of cloud rap. His eccentric style along with his aloofness of the rap game and the heavy consumption of drugs and alcohol gave him a deep sensation in the neo-goth culture. A culture Lucy was a part of. He saw her cling to her arms, seeing her red colored nails dig deep into the skin.

"His name has become prominent lately. Hasn't it," said Lincoln, finding a way to remedy the situation she was going through.

"So fresh in this putrid world. A rose that grew from concrete. My bo to his peep," replied Lucy, wiping her fallen tears from his face. "He was a person that helped me understand that I wasn't alone in this world. A person who I can relate to. He knew what it was like to be different." She put her hands on her lap. "He made me, us, feel like it was okay to be dark." She then turned to Lincoln, relieving her eyes through her bangs. "Tell me something, Lincoln. If it is cool to be this dark, then why does it hurt so bad when you want to be loved?"

She sniffled while Lincoln was trying his best to collect his thoughts. "Role model for acceptance. There wasn't any shame to be different. And now he is gone, Lincoln. He is gone."

He reached into his pocket. In his hands were a pair of tickets. "I understand, Luce. It was disheartened to hear the news of his death. I wanted to give you these. These were the tickets of his upcoming concert in December. I wanted to give it to you as an early Christmas present." He handed it to Lucy. "Despite the differences we share. Despite how people view you. You are not alone. You will always be loved."

Lucy's face softened when seeing the tickets in her hand. "Those were for me?"

He nodded his head. "I knew how much you adored him. He was a modern-day Kurt Cobain. In a Nirvana of his own. He was like Poe and Hawthorne, with a splash of Dead from Mayhem." He sighed. "You wanted someone to understand your pain. Someone to let you in." He took his sister's hand, rubbing it affectionately. "You are never alone, sis. We may not understand you. I mean, heck, do we all understand one another? No matter what you are, we still are going to support you." He knocked on her forehead. "Just let us in for a change."

She kissed her brother on the cheek. "That is why I need to depend on you, Lincoln. You value me as a person, no matter what I do."

"Just let us in for a change, Lucy. We all want to be loved, even the musician of yours. He wanted to be loved." Lincoln took off his jacket to cover his sister from the cold. "Tonight, these stars shine brightly. Somewhere, he is in there free from the depression he was facing. He is in the darkness, shining like a star. It doesn't make sense, but is that how life works?"

"You are right, Linc."

"Tell you what," said Lincoln. "Let's just enjoy the evening staring at the stars and listen to the music. Even in the stars, his message is within the music."

Lucy and Lincoln lied down on the roof. Lucy gave Lincoln an earpiece and both listened to the musician play his song.

"I just wana be everybody's everything I want too much from people but then I don't want anything from them at the same time u feel me I don't let people help me but I need help but not when I have my pills but that's temporary one day maybe I won't die young and I'll be happy? What is happy I always have happiness for like 10 seconds and then it's gone. I'm getting so tired of this."

"Lincoln, do you think people will love me when I am dead?"

"I can't speak for people, but I can love you while you are still alive."

Chapter Text

She was drenched in sweat, struggling for breath as Sam woke from the falling dream. It was the second time this week she had such a petrifying encounter. It was the same dream from before, leaving her paralyzed in fear. She sat up, keeping herself warm with her drenched blanket. She stared into the window. The landscape stretched from her apartment complex to the neighboring homes. Snow was in the forecast. A few furries drifted, settling onto her window pane. A few tears drifted, settling onto her swelled, flushed cheeks.

She extended her hands, feeling the sweat evacuating h