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4 x Fake News ficlets
Warnings for Real Person fic (or caricatures of Real people)
A great stress reliever for Jon is playing WordFeud on his cellphone. He has a number of games going at the same time, some with friends and family members, some with strangers he has asked the computer the pick. There is an open invitation at the office for anyone who wants to to challenge him.
He accepts each invitation and at slow moments pulls out his phone to flip through the boards. He plans for his next word and the word to build to after that, and what direction he will go in if his opponent makes this or that move.
It's sweet candy for his brain in a work situation that often overloads it.
But there is one other perk about playing WordFeud, and it's one that relaxes him more than any combination of prescription medicine ever could
It's the only place where Stephen won't challenge him.
For the prompt from the Homolust Challenge generator A class president is fucked by a lewd nerd in an office. They are rivals in love. It must involve aphrodisiacs.
Warning for teacher/student sex.
New York City, spring of 2004. Class President and all around wholesome senior Meghan McCain is enjoying a smooth ride in her final few months of high school and political office. Friends with the cheer-leading captain, popular with most of the student body and with a perfect attendance record, Meghan has only one final task to accomplish in order to secure her legacy:
Senior prom
She comes up with an awesome idea to use the auditorium instead of the gymnasium and to deck the room out entirely in pink and teal decorations. The only problem with this fantastic idea is that the debate team is meeting another school in an end-of-semester challenge the day after and there's no way to remove the decorations in time
The person blocking Meghan's request to move the challenge elsewhere is the youngest member of the faculty, the debate team's coach, a Dr. R. Maddow
Maddow is a generation X-er, ironic and sarcastic, lanky and butch, but in a fashionably cute way. She wears hipster glasses that doesn't hide her eye rolling and mutters famous quotes under her breath when she's annoyed, which is often
Meghan decides to use her womanly wiles to persuade the nice doctor to let her have the room. She wears a low cut dress, lets her hair down and douses herself with illegal aphrodisiac guaranteed to drive both men and women crazy. Then she knocks on Dr Maddow's office door ...
Rachel, an experienced chess player has of course anticipated Meghan's move and has swallowed the antidote, leaving her completely unaffected by the aphrodisiac.
She plays along, pretending to be mesmerized by Meghan, engaging in a chicken race to see who will dodge first
She ends up bending Meghan over a desk and pressing herself against her from behind, ordering the girl to recite the Pledge of Allegiance while her fingers search upwards under Meghan's flimsy dress...
Meghan has never gone that far with any of her boyfriends, and now, the sensation of experienced fingers on her sensitive flesh is almost too much to bear. She is helpless, caught between the strict recitation and the relentless pressure of the teacher's touch.
Her body convulses as she reache one Nation under Goooood nd moisture drips down her thighs, down to where her sun-kissed skin meets leather
Rachel never even takes off her clothes.
Meghan is trembling with shame and pleasure, flying high and thoroughly beaten. She runs out of the class room without giving Dr. Maddow a second look
Rachel can only imagine the look of surprise on Meghan's face when the Headmaster gives her plan the go ahead.
Rachel's a lot of things, but narrow minded isn't one of them. What's a little teal and pink when you've got the best debate team in the district? It might even throw the visiting team off their guard
Heck, she might even check out the prom herself.
After all, it might need a chaperon.
Jon loves a lot of things about New York
He loves that you can get amazing take-out in any part of town, at any time of the day. He loves the Met and Madison Square Garden, and that he has been able to walk home from the most amazing concerts of his life. Above all else he loves the fact that you can find people from all walks of life, of all religious faiths and political persuasions within the same block.
But he didn't love Central Park until he met Stephen. Now, as soon as the weather allows he spends most of his Saturdays there with Stephen. They row boats and fish, they feed the ducks in the pond and pet the horses in the stable. When they get tired or hungry, they find a quiet spot in the woods and dig into their picnic basket
Jon noticed a long time ago that Stephen's favorite activities are inexpensive, simple things that can be enjoyed out in the country, even if you're a young child in a large family and have to find your own entertainment. He says nothing of it.
If Stephen can find a little piece of home in the city that's been home to Jon for so many years, that's more than enough reason to love it.
The last few steps were almost as light as on his wedding day. The corridor leading up to the Rendezvous Room was painted a light shade of yellow. If Tracey were here she would be able to tell him if it was Maize or Jasmine. Jon could imagine it had been carefully selected by the psychiatric consultants as the most soothing color. Jon didn't need soothing. He was so excited that his feet did little dancing steps as he went.
He had started imagining this day a couple of years ago, as the monthly payments started getting bigger. One million dollars paid over seventeen years had seemed like a lot at the the time. He just hoped it would be worth it.
The psychiatric evaluation had been less rigorous this time around. Probaby because there was less at stake now. I mean, they couldn't really forbid him to Rendezvous, could they?
He had been warned not to divulge any information about the last seventeen years. It wasn't because they were scared that he would cheat on the stock market. The wipe was permanent and absolute, as he himself could attest to. It was probably the only reason why they didn't guard their customers at gun point.
No, the reason was much more simple: if he upset his younger self, their meeting would be ruined.
Yes, he had got it. No mention of 9/11, the Iraq war, or the demise of the record store. And above all else, no mention of The Daily Show or Tracey. That last part was pure supersticion. Jon's memory was very clear about the fact that he had no memory of the Rendezvous, but he wanted to play it safe. The last thing he wanted was to mess something up and come home to find his kids didn't exist.
As he finished this thought he found himself in front of the door. The handle was easily pressed down and Jon took a deep breath and stepped inside.
He didn't know whose gasp it was he heard, but he knew he wasn't the one who said ”Holy shit!” Mostly because it was followed by ”Wow, I really do get to fifty.”
Jon studied his younger self. He was dressed in the hospital issue gown that had no pockets and would be burned after the strip search. His hair was cut just above his ear and it was thick and black. He was at least thirty pounds lighter, but he looked weak, like he hadn't quite grown into his looks yet.
It was a look Jon hadn't seen in the mirror for quite some time.
There was so much that he wanted his younger self's insight on and they had only two hours at their disposal. He had many questions, but there was something he needed to get off his chest first; something he had wanted to say for years
”Thank you. Thank you so much for doing this.”
Younger Jon smiled softly. ”Happy Birthday, man.”