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#I am going to risk it and play some tennis with my friends soon
mostly-natm · 5 months
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Fun in the sun! ☀️🐝🌸
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possiamo-andare · 4 years
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Man’s Best Friend: JJ Maybank
JJ x Reader (Female)
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MASTERLIST
word count: 4.2k
a/n: ok so this has not been edited but it literally came to me in a dream. Of course, it was not JJ but another boy that I know (you could say my crush) but I can’t use my crush’s name and I thought this would be a good JJ fic. I might go over it later, but I wanted to get it out because I love this idea way too much. Anways, I hope you enjoy!
summary: JJ Maybank was devastated after he lost one of his best friends. To protect himself, he turns away even his best friends. In an effort to fix JJ, Kiara and Pope get JJ a dog. At first, JJ hates the idea and doesn’t want a dog but soon enough, Apollo brings him joy and solace in so many ways.
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JJ Maybank had never been the same since John B. and Sarah's disappearance. For all he knew, they were dead. John B. had been a part of his family. The nights where his father was intoxicated were the nights John B. took him in and let him sleepover. Although they had grown close in middle school, sharing the same science class, JJ felt as if they had known each other for their entire lives. JJ knew this was rare. He didn't have to read thousands of books to know what love was and although he would never admit it to anyone, he loved John B. like a brother. So, that fateful night when John B. and Sarah risked their lives to escape and Shoupe gave them the heart breaking news, JJ broke down. Nothing prepared him for the news that his friend might as well be dead.
The months after John B.'s death, JJ might as well have been dead. Looking back, he doesn't remember much of those months he spent couped up in John. B.'s house reminiscing. It all was a blur. If he wasn't going to court for his trial, he was crying himself to sleep. He suspected Kiara and Pope had done the same but he wasn't sure. He hadn't spoken to them since that night and although they tried to reach out to JJ, he never let them in. They would stop by John B.'s house, bringing food and water, and knock on his door. They waited for many minutes, calling out for JJ, but he never answered. Kiara and Pope, although suffering from the same loss, knew JJ was in a rough place when he wouldn't even talk to them. There was no topic too taboo enough for JJ not to discuss with his friends. He could even openly discuss his father's abuse Now, when it seemed he needed a support system the most, JJ shut down.
Then, three months later, Kiara had enough. She, along with Pope, missed their friend. Although their group would never be the same without John B, JJ's absence seemed to make Kiara and Pope miserable. JJ was the glue that held them all together. When something abysmal would happen, whether it happened directly to JJ or not, JJ made a joke about it. His father beat him? Well, he’s got a mean right hook. Sheriff Peterkin is dead and the entirety of OBX is after John B? Well, if John B. showered and stopped smelling like shit, maybe he would be harder to find. JJ’s jokes cleared the fog and allowed anyone who would listen a little peace during whatever hard time they were going through. But now that JJ was no longer himself, Kiara knew he needed his friends the most. Along with Pope, they devised a plan to slowly integrate back into JJ’s life. They were all still crushed over their friend’s death but they needed to mourn together. They were always stronger together. That afternoon, Kiara and Pope went to Figure 8’s shelter with only an idea in their head and a wad of cash they saved in their hands.
As they walked through all of the kennels, they examined each pet. They knew JJ couldn’t have just any regular dog, he needed a friend. This was JJ Maybank they were talking about. JJ could barely look after himself right now. An hour into their shopping for the perfect dog, they were about to quit. None of the dogs seemed good enough for JJ. That is, until they got to the last kennel. Laying on their back, with his tongue out, was a staffie. Unlike all of the other dogs, this staffie didn’t not run to the fence and try to lick Kiara or Pope. Instead, it continued to lay on it’s back and watched as Kiara and Pope tried to call it over. When it wouldn’t come, Kiara looked to Ms. Conway, the vet at the shelter, and asked what was wrong with the dog.
“His name is Apollo.” Ms. Conway started, crouching down and sticking her finger in the fence. Still, the dog continued to lay on his stomach. “He’s a rescue. His previous owner mistreated him and he’s scared, but he’s a good dog. He can tell if you’re a good or bad person right away.”
Pope’s brows lifted, a confused look written over his face. He looked to Ms. Conway. “What do you mean?”
Ms. Conway shrugged. “I had this new nurse, who was wonderful with all of the dogs, except Apollo. He seemed to hate her. He never barked at her or bit her, just was extremely cold to her. It was as if his tail stopped wagging whether she passed him. I thought it was nothing, but then, when some money was stolen out of the register, I had a sick feeling that maybe it was her. So, I reviewed the security tapes and it was. I’d like to think Apollo knew she was a bad person before anyone else did.”
Pope looked back to Kiara, who was already smiling. “Why hasn’t he been adopted then?” Kiara asked, looking at Apollo who was now perked up at the mention of his name.
Ms. Conway frowned. “He’s an older dog. Not many people want older dogs.”
Kiara and Pope smiled, both of them looking at Apollo. Kiara could never be sure, but he seemed to be smiling too. Without having to discuss it privately, Kiara looked back to Ms. Conway and said, “We’ll take him.”
Kiara and Pope left that shelter that day with a dog on a leash and a smile on their lips. Apollo was the perfect dog for JJ. He could be the dog version of JJ. Although it may not fix what was broken in JJ, they knew that this dog could be the start in repairing the version of JJ that both Pope and Kiara needed.
At first, JJ wasn’t pleased that Kiara and Pope had gotten him a dog without his permission. In fact, pleased would not be the correct word. He was down right angry. How dare they try to fix him? He didn’t need fixing, he needed his best friend back and no dog in the world would replace his friend. He made this very clear to Kiara and Pope, but they would not take no for an answer.
“We miss our friend JJ.” Kiara frowned, watching as Apollo obediently sat on the lawn. Kiara had tied his leash to the tree, thinking he may run off but that wasn’t the case. Apollo seemed to already know that this was his home.
JJ scoffed. “I’m sorry you miss me but trying to replace John B. with a dog is not gonna make me feel better.”
Pope rolled his eyes, stepping closer to JJ. “That’s not what we’re trying to do and you know it.” JJ had not let them into John B.’s house yet so they were forced to wait on the porch as JJ leaned against the threshold of the door.
JJ looked over Pope’s shoulder, watching Apollo as he just sat there. He seemed to just be content, sitting there with nothing to do and it made JJ smirk. Maybe having a pet to help him through his friend’s death wouldn’t be so hard. He looked back to his friends. “I know. I just can’t even look after myself, how the hell am I supposed to look after a dog?”
Kiara shook her head. “Apollo is well trained. All you have to do is show him some love. I think it would be good for you to have some company JJ.”
Pope agreed, nodding his head. “There’s this thing called therapy dogs, JJ. They help people with numerous traumatic events that have happened in their lives. This dog could bring you some solace.”
Kiara stepped forward this time, wrapping his arms around JJ. At first he did not hug her back but when he was sure she wouldn’t let go until he had hugged her, he returned the gesture. “And when you feel a little bit better,” Kiara said, still hugging JJ. “Then you can call your friends.”
The first night JJ had Apollo was the hardest night of his life. Apollo, still not entirely warmed up to JJ, barked the entire night. JJ had laid out a blanket and a newspaper for him and thought that it would be enough. But, just like JJ, Apollo was traumatized and scared to be in such a new environment alone. Until midnight, Apollo barked and barked, calling out for god knows what. JJ, who was only in a good mood if he had enough sleep the night before, was getting restless. He hadn’t slept a wink since he laid on the pullout couch and was getting angrier by the minute. Finally, as the clock struck midnight, JJ got out of his “bed” and stormed to the other side of the room where Apollo was supposed to be sleeping.
“Dude,” JJ grumbled, rubbing his tired eyes. “Stop whining.”
The second Apollo realized JJ was talking to him, he stopped barking. He sat up, his tongue out and panting. JJ knew what that face meant, he had seen it in many dogs before.
“No,” JJ shook his head. “We’re not playing at midnight.”
JJ could’ve sworn he saw Apollo smile. But dogs couldn’t really smile, right?
“No.” JJ stomped his foot. He glared at Apollo, his tail still wagging. As much as JJ didn’t want to admit it, this dog was beginning to grow on him, as annoying as he could be. With a deep sigh, JJ nodded. “Fine, but only for half an hour and then we sleep.”
Apollo instantly barked and scurried to the front door where his only toy sat. In an instant, he had the poor tennis ball in his mouth as he patiently waited for JJ to open the front door. JJ walked to the front door, unlocking the door before opening it. He looked down at Apollo, watching as the staffie made no effort to leave.
JJ frowned. “What? Go.” JJ pointed to the lawn, confusion evident on his face as he watched his dog just sit there, wagging his tail with a tennis ball in his mouth. JJ rolled his eyes. “Ok, or I’ll go.”
The second JJ stepped over the threshold of the door, Apollo was right behind him. JJ watched as the staffie stayed at his side, never running past him to play on the lawn. JJ was puzzled. He wondered why this dog wanted to be by his side all day. They had only known each other for one day yet Apollo seemed to love JJ like he would if he had been his owner for 15 years. JJ thought back to Kiara’s words. She had said Apollo was very intuitive. He could sense if someone was a good person or not. JJ was sure that was full of crap. If Apollo was so intuitive, then why did he love JJ? JJ knew who he was. He was a delinquent. He had thought of the idea of the boat which had gotten his friend killed. JJ had pointed that gun in the air at the beach which only got Topper more pissed off at the Pogues. JJ got arrested. JJ stole money. JJ was a terrible student. So, if Apollo was so intuitive, why could he not sense how bad JJ was? As JJ sat on the stairs on John B.’s porch throwing the tennis ball for Apollo to catch, he wondered that maybe if this dog couldn’t sense any bad, many he wasn’t actually that bad. This realization made JJ both sad and happy. Angry because he should feel guilty and anyone who said he shouldn’t was lying to him. Sad because he wished he wasn’t such a screw up. Maybe if he wasn’t John B. and Sarah would still be alive. JJ let a tear slide down his face before wiping it away. Soon, there were too many tears for JJ to wipe away in time.
JJ threw the ball onto the lawn again, waiting for Apollo to run and catch it. Except Apollo didn’t. He stopped in his tracks, watching JJ intently as he cried. JJ felt embarrassed to cry on the first day of getting this dog. “What?” JJ blubbered.
Apollo stayed quiet, slowly moving towards JJ. His tail wagged slower as he approached JJ and he was no longer panting so hard. JJ said nothing, watching in awe as Apollo approached him. JJ couldn’t believe it. Kiara was right. This dog would tell when JJ was sad and wanted to comfort him. Slowly, Apollo lay his head on JJ’s lap, looking up at his new owner. He had a frown on his face, his tongue still out. Apollo nuzzled his head in JJ’s lap, his breathing now even as he emitted a type of warmth JJ had never felt before.
JJ looked down at his dog, finally smiling through his tears. Apollo, taking JJ’s smile as a good sign, smiled back, his mouth open and his tail wagging. JJ shook his head, petting his dog on his head. “Well buddy,” JJ finally said, wiping the remaining tears from his cheeks. “You saw me cry. Now we have to be best buds.”
JJ and Apollo spent every moment together. It didn’t matter that JJ was doing, Apollo was right beside him. What they enjoyed most was going to the beach and swimming. JJ even let Apollo stand on his board, riding more calm waves than the ones deeper in the ocean. Apollo made him happy. He knew Apollo could never replace what he had with John B. but that was not what he was trying to do. Apollo was there not to replace John B., but help him come to terms with his death and fill the hole in his heart. The more time JJ spent with Apollo, the more he realized that it was not his fault that John B. and Sarah were dead. It was Shoupe’s fault and Ward’s. It was the fault of the greed in OBX. JJ couldn’t predict the future. He wouldn’t have known. And he knew John B. would not have wanted JJ to blame himself. Weeks passed and JJ felt better. Kiara and Pope were right; getting a dog would make him feel less alone. When he was ready, he finally allowed himself to spend time with Kiara and Pope. They spoke about John B. and Sarah’s death and, for the first time, JJ looked back on their adventure with a smile. They hadn’t gotten the gold, they had lost two friends, but they healed. They would never be whole again but JJ had his friends and he had Apollo. He was content. He seriously believed life could not have been better.
Then, a year later, as it approached the one year anniversary of John B. and Sarah’s death, JJ’s life got better. It was a place where nothing monumental ever happened; the convenience store. He was there to pick up dog food for Apollo. They were running low and JJ was supposed to go grocery shopping with Kiara the next day so he decided to go to the convenience store to buy a small package of dog food that would last Apollo a day before he went tomorrow with Kiara. It was supposed to be a quick and easy pick up. He was late anyways. He had promised to meet up with Pope at the beach and now, this little stop made him even more late. His intention was to be in and out but Apollo made that difficult.
“Which one is it again?” JJ joked, holding two small bags of dog food in front of Apollo. Apollo barked, watching his favourite bag of food be dangled in his face. JJ smirked, nodding. “Ah yes, Blue Buffalo. Great choice pal.” JJ turned back to the shelf and put the other one down.
He always pretended to let Apollo choose, just as a joke. It seemed like him and Apollo seemed to have the same sense of humour. Whenever JJ made a joke that Kiara and Pope didn’t understand, Apollo barked happily. Sometimes JJ thought it was only because Apollo didn’t want JJ to feel that no one found him funny, but other times JJ wholeheartedly believed Apollo understood his humour. When he turned back around, he frowned. Apollo was gone. JJ looked through the aisle and the aisle to the right but he didn’t see his dog. Sometimes Apollo would get distracted by simple things and wander but whenever JJ called him, he would always come back.
“Apollo!” JJ called, his eyes looking out for the familiar patter Apollo’s paws made when he ran. There was nothing. JJ’s heartbeat picked up. Where was his dog? He had just turned his back for a moment. If something happened to his dog, he’d never forgive himself.
As JJ exited the first aisle, his eyes scoured the peered down another aisle. His eyes instantly saw his dog, licking the face of a complete stranger. JJ sighed, thinking about how stupid his dog could be sometimes. That loveable idiot, JJ thought, almost gave me a heart attack. Although JJ was upset, he was also confused. As he made his way to the stranger and Apollo, JJ couldn’t think of an instance where Apollo ever approached a stranger. Apollo had been traumatized by his previous owner and was always skittish around new people. They always approached him before he approached them. He even remembered a time when Pope was gone for school for a month and when he came back, Apollo didn’t recognize him at first and wouldn’t go near him. Did Apollo recognize this person? If so, why did JJ not recognize them? He only saw the back of her back but he already knew he couldn’t have known her. She was a Kook.
“Apollo!” JJ shouted as he got closer to his dog.
Apollo finally stopped licking the girl’s face and perked up at JJ’s voice. When Apollo’s eyes met JJ’s, his eyes perked up and he ran away from you and towards JJ. JJ crouched down, petting his dog behind his ears. Apollo panted, smiling at his owner.
“He’s so cute.” You said, finally standing in front of JJ.
JJ stopped petting his dog but continued to look at him and not you. “He is.” He stood up, watching as his dog turned around and struts back to you.
This time you don’t crouch down and only pat his head. JJ frowns. Apollo really likes you. When JJ finally looks at you, he understands why. You’re gorgeous. The smile on your face is sweet and your eyes sparkle as you look down at Apollo. JJ realizes the air has been knocked out of him. He looks to Apollo, who just relishes in your petting. JJ smiles. That scoundrel, he thinks.
“I’m Y/N.” You say, looking up at JJ again and extending your hand.
JJ reaches out and takes it, shaking it quickly before shoving his hand back in his pocket. He tightens his hand in a fist. It aches as soon as he touches your skin. “JJ.”
You nod, your hand still petting Apollo. “He’s so good with strangers.” You comment, watching as Apollo flashes you a smile. Your eyes widen and you chuckle to yourself. You can already tell this dog is special.
JJ thinks he might have a heart attack. You’re absolutely breathtaking and he can’t help but think Apollo thinks the same. Why else would he have befriended a total stranger? “Actually, he’s not. He must really like you.”
You look at JJ again, your hand moving away from Apollo and going to the ends of your tank top where some threads are loose. You can’t help but admit to herself that JJ was handsome, but you doubted it was the appropriate time to ask a boy out. Besides, you hadn’t really ever asked a boy out. And you weren’t sure if he would even say yes. You couldn’t take that kind of embarrassment.
“Really?” You ask. When JJ nods, you continue. “I used to have a dog so maybe that’s why.”
JJ smiled at you, watching as Apollo looked up at you with a frown. He liked you a lot and wanted you to keep petting him. JJ whistled, causing Apollo’s head to turn JJ’s way. “C’mon Apollo. Let’s not bother this girl.”
You smiled, shaking your head. “It’s no bother. I love dogs.”
JJ nodded, taking a deep breath. He was battling whether to ask you out or not. He hadn’t been out on a date with a girl in almost a year, for good reason, and he almost felt guilty for trying to be happy again. He knew that if John B. were beside him, he’d tell him to ask you out but JJ couldn’t. He felt too guilty. Maybe, next time he would. For now, he was too nervous.
JJ whistled again, trying to get Apollo to move away from your side. “Apollo.” Apollo only looked at JJ, not moving an inch. JJ frowned, reaching out his arm and beckoning Apollo to him. Usually, this worked. Not this time. Apollo didn’t want to leave.
This time, you tried to help JJ. “Apollo,” You said sweetly, looking down at the staffie. Apollo looked up at you, eyes full of joy. You smiled, pointing to JJ but still looking at him. “Go to JJ.” JJ smiled, hearing you use his name. He wished he had more confidence because he wanted to ask you out so badly.
Apollo looked to JJ, then back at you. Finally, he moved but not in the way you or JJ thought he would. He moved from a seated position to laying on his back, waiting for you to scratch his belly. He laughed, covering your mouth. You bent down to scratch his belly for a moment, then looked to JJ. JJ was smiling now. He couldn’t believe this dog. What did he want?
JJ made his way to you and Apollo, crouching down beside you and rubbing Apollo’s belly. Apollo looked so happy, JJ started to laugh along with you. This dog owned both of you and he knew it. “I’m so sorry.” JJ continued to laugh. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him today.”
“He’s adorable.” You insisted, looking to JJ who was now only a foot away from you. You took a deep breath through your nose. He smelled like the ocean. He smelled like home.
JJ looked at you as you spoke, realizing now that your faces were not that far apart. Feeling flustered, he looked back at Apollo. You did the same, feeling embarrassed. JJ watched as Apollo looked at JJ, a smile on his face. Suddenly, it clicked. Apollo was trying to tell him something and he had been so blind by his lack of confidence to realize it.
With a surge of confidence, he looked back at you and said, “I’m actually going to the beach right now to surf. You surf?”
You made eye contact with JJ, smiling. “I live in Figure 8. Of course I do.”
JJ chuckled, nodding. “Well, Apollo really wants you to come.”
You looked to Apollo, who was wagging his tail because of all the petting he was receiving. “Apollo wants me to come?”
JJ shrugged. “And me.” He felt his cheeks burning and he hoped you couldn’t notice.
You looked at JJ, flustered. “Well, since he won’t leave without me, I’d love to come.”
JJ grinned, finally getting up from his crouch position. He extended his hand for you to grab. Once you did, he helped you up. Once you were standing, you looked back to Apollo. He was watching your hands hold each other and smiling. JJ shook his head, in disbelief. Apollo, the matchmaker. He would thank him later.
JJ didn’t let go of your hand and you didn’t want him to. Instead, you both walked towards the checkout, hand in hand, as Apollo walked beside you both. JJ couldn’t believe how much of his life had changed since Apollo came into his life. He was truly man’s best friend. He helped JJ get through the toughest part of his life and now he had given him what JJ was sure to be his wife. This dog continued to give JJ more love and JJ never knew if he could ever return the favour. As he watched Apollo follow beside you, wagging his tail, he realized that maybe JJ being happy was enough for Apollo. This is the best dog ever, JJ thought.
“So,” You started, looking at you and JJ’s hands intertwined. “What’s this guy's story?”
JJ looked at Apollo once again, smiling. “Do you have time?”
You nodded, butterflies in your stomach. “All the time in the world.”
JJ nodded, looking back to you as you spoke. “Good.” And so, JJ talked. About getting Apollo and all the crazy stories they had during the one year JJ had him.
And you listened, adding quick witted remarks here and there. You didn’t mind if JJ talked, you were sure that there would be more conversations between the two of you for many years to come.
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let-it-raines · 4 years
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Walking the Baseline (Year 2012)
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Chapter Summary: He’s seen her around. Of course he has. They walk in the same circles, play at all of the same combined tournaments, and they have mutual friends. It’s not until they both win the Australian Open and start talking over Instagram that Killian Jones gets to know Emma Swan. He doesn’t expect one message to turn into more, and he certainly doesn’t expect to find himself knowing who Emma is when she’s not got a racket in her hands. 
Even more, he doesn't expect to let her know who he is off the court when that's a secret he holds close to the vest.
Rating: Teen-ish. 
a/n: I told you guys I had more Walking the Baseline coming, and I meant it! I did not expect you guys to be so excited about this universe, but you’re always blowing me away! So, here’s their story for part of the year 2012, four years before the events of Walking the Baseline and the RIO Olympics. 
You do not need to have read the original one-shot to understand. If you haven’t, well, that just means you’ll be surprised with the ending of this collection 😂
Found on AO3: 2012 | 2013 | 2014 | 2015 | 2016 (Part One) | 2016 (Part Two)
-/-
2012.
“You look nice, Swan.”
She’s standing in front of him in a pair of long white paints and a matching white shirt that bares her midriff. Her lips are painted red, her blonde hair long and curled. It’s different to how he usually sees her, but the same can be said for him as he adjusts his jacket sleeves. They spend their lives in athletic wear with sweat an almost constant companion. They do not spend their lives dressed up like this.
“Same to you. How are you not dripping in sweat?”
“Oh, I bloody well am. It’s hidden under the jacket.”
Emma laughs and flips her hair off her neck. “Damn Australian summers. Been trying to kill me since I was eighteen.”
“But now you’re the queen of the court. Congratulations, by the way. That was a damn good match.”
She smiles and adjusts her trophy as he does the same, the flashes of photographers surrounding them and the water behind them. They’ve both done their individual photographs but are now doing promotion for the tournament and Nike, their clothing sponsor. Killian has the beginnings of a long flight today, and Emma has an even longer one to America. He believes she lives in Florida, but it could also be New York. Maybe California. He’ll ask Ariel if she knows, because he already knows she will have the answer to every question he asks. His manager knows everything there is to know about everybody. Somewhere in that brain of hers, Ariel Fisher has a file on Emma Swan that Killian has never bothered to ask about.
It’s not that he’s never been intrigued. She’s a damn good tennis player and a successful one at that. He’s watched her rise to the top of their sport for years now, and while they’ve done a few photo shoots and charity matches together, they’re never talked much outside of a professional capacity. He knows her brother is her coach and she’s close to Ruby Lucas, another player, and he’s read a little about her upbringing. That’s something she keeps close to the vest, but he gets it. He does the same thing. That isn’t the easiest when you’re on the world’s stage like they are. Now, everyone has to know the details of personal lives of athletes, and it makes staying private difficult when you have to brand yourself to get sponsors. Killian would rather run for five hours over doing an interview, especially now that he’s given twenty interviews since the championship last night.
It’s media overload in every way.
“Congratulations to you. I may have slept through half your match, but what I saw was good.”
“Thanks,” Killian laughs, scratching his chin. “I’m terrified that if I sit down, I won’t be able to get back up.”
“Oh, that’s definitely a risk. David had to slide me out of the bed this morning. I’m only wearing this because I was too lazy to shave. I was pretty sure I’d have to have help.”
He bites his tongue to keep from making the comment he wants to make and turns back to the camera, smiling and nodding, following the rest of the instructions. He and Emma are quickly pulled in different directions to finish out their obligations, and before he knows it, he’s on a plane, flying away from Australia. It’s been a month since he’s been home, and Oxshott has never seemed so good even if there is no one at home waiting to greet him.
-/-
Killian grabs a sweater from the shelf, pulling it over his shoulders, and heads downstairs where he fixes himself a cup of tea and settles on his couch, his television playing in the background. It’s been a long day. His first day back training after a week break nearly killed his knees, but that’s over now. He’s put in his time on the court and at the gym, and no one is going to bother him for the rest of the day. He’s muted Ariel’s name in his phone, and if she really needs him, she’ll call him from Eric’s phone.
God does he hope she doesn’t need him tonight.
Nemo better not either because Killian does not want to see his coach’s face again until early tomorrow morning.
Despite his sweater, he’s still chilled. Going from an Australian summer to a British winter is quite the adjustment. It’s nearly as bad as the jetlag.
Killian’s phone dings in his hand, and he dreads what message he’s surely gotten. He expects it to be Ariel from Eric’s phone, but it’s an Instagram message.
@EmmaSwan: Whoever said @KillianJones was photogenic needs to take a serious look at these photos.
He looks at the photographs, and it’s a series of horribly awkward faces he’s made. He remembers this moment of the shoot. A bug kept trying to fly into his mouth, and at one point, it succeeded. Emma looks great in them, laughing with a bright smile, and she’s right: there’s no part of him that’s photogenic there.
@KillianJones: So you’re saying there are people out there who think I’m photogenic?
Her reply comes instantly.
@EmmaSwan: Well, there were! ;)
Killian laughs and then clicks on her profile, scrolling through. She has several pictures from her win, a few training videos, but mostly it’s pictures of her with some of the women she’s friends with on tour or her brother and sister-in-law. His page is so different in that it’s made up of a majority of tennis photos. He doesn’t share much about his personal life there because there isn’t much to share lately, and when there was, he didn’t want the world to know who he was dating. They did, of course. There were few ways to hide it all when he had photographers literally hiding in bushes, but he imagines if it was a relationship he truly held sacred, he would find a way to keep it hidden away.
Milah was the last person he would have wanted that with, but she was a fan of the attention. She still is if what he sees around is any indication. She married some older man who is worth millions, but other than that, Killian tries not to keep up with her. Some days it goes better than others, but being disconnected from the world does help.
Social media definitely doesn’t.
And after looking at Emma’s profile a little more carefully, he realizes her profile is more private than he thought. In some way, every photo that has a person in it relates back to tennis.
Killian exits out of the app and goes to the link Ariel sent him of all the photos from his shoot with Emma. He clicks on it and tries to find one where she looks bad. It takes awhile, damn gorgeous woman, but he eventually finds one where the wind blew her hair in front of her and she’s making an awful face. It’s perfect, and Killian quickly saves it and a nicer photo to his phone before uploading them to Instagram.
@KillianJones: @EmmaSwan, if only your serve was as big as your hair.
@EmmaSwan direct messaged you.
@EmmaSwan: My serve stats are better than your serve stats.
@KillianJones: Lies.
@EmmaSwan: Okay, well, my hair is also better than your hair.
@KillianJones: Eh, I wouldn’t say that either.
@EmmaSwan: My ass is better than your ass.
@KillianJones: Now, I will fully agree with that.
@EmmaSwan: Isn’t it, like, midnight in England? What are you doing up, old man?
@KillianJones: Watching TV and having a cuppa. Truly exciting times here.
@EmmaSwan has added a picture to this chat.
It’s a shot of her legs, her feet resting on the court. There’s a pool of sweat underneath her, and he is not jealous. It’s February, and while he knows she lives in south Florida – he did ask Ariel – it shouldn’t be warm enough for anyone to sweat that much unless they put in a massive amount of effort.
He must be getting old for this game if just thinking about that makes him want to retire, but there’s no way in hell that’s happening anytime soon. He told Liam he would play until he no longer had a passion for the game.
That hasn’t happened yet.
@EmmaSwan: I’m making my mark on this court. I cannot wait to be in my pajamas watching TV tonight. If I can get up from this chair.
@KillianJones: I’m sure you can slide home in that lovely pool of sweat.
@EmmaSwan: Honestly, I have thought about it.
@EmmaSwan: I’ve got to practice my shitty serve, but I’ll think of smacking your face every time I do it. I’m sure my numbers will be higher than ever.
@KillianJones: Anything I can do to help.
-/-
“How do you eat your strawberries?”
“With my fingers,” Killian says, arching his brow at such a ridiculous question.
“You’re supposed to say with cream.”
Killian spins around behind him, and he immediately sees Emma Swan walking toward him. He hasn’t seen her in months as the tours haven’t had a joint tournament since Australia, but they’ve been chatting pretty regularly over Instagram. He’s never liked the app, but it’s one of his most used ones now.
“Excuse me, lass?”
“You’re doing a promotion for Wimbledon, idiot. They want all of us to say we eat our strawberries with cream.”
“I actually don’t love the cream.”
Emma mock gasps, covering her chest with her hands, before stepping up to him and giving him a quick hug he’s sure is for the cameras surrounding them. “Well, they should kick you out of England for saying something like that.”
“Believe me, they’ve tried, but I chained myself to the ground to keep it from happening.”
“I’m sure we could find you a place here if we had to.”
“Your place?” Killian jokes.
“In your dreams, Jones.” Emma widens her smile before turning to the camera. “I’d eat my strawberries with cream, just in case you want to use me for the promotions instead of this shameful excuse for a Brit.”
“Actually,” the producer behind the camera says, “we have a game that we’d love for the two of you to play together if you want. We usually don’t have two of the bigger names up here at once.”
“What’s the game?” Emma asks.
“It’s basically beer pong.”
Emma tilts her head back with laughter and claps her hands together. “Oh, I’m good at this. You’re going down, Jones.”
“Nice to see your competitive spirit doesn’t die off the court.”
“It never does.”
Emma shrugs and walks over to where they have a ping pong table set up on the roof of this building. Killian gets to travel a lot of beautiful places for his job, and while he doesn’t get to explore a lot of them, he does get to take in the view. He’ll never get over the oasis that is Palm Springs with its mountains going as far as the eye can see with palm trees and lush vegetation filling in so many other gaps. There’s a hell of a lot of desert, but considering Killian only goes between the tournament and his hotel, he doesn’t see that. For him, it’s all about the oasis.
“You ready?” Emma asks as they settle at opposite ends of the table. “It’s going to be a challenge to beat me.”
He winks and leans forward, hovering over the cups of water. “I do so love a challenge.”
-/-
“I mean, I wouldn’t say that you had a bad reputation.”
Killian rolls his eyes and toes his trainers off, kicking them across his hotel room in Monte Carlo. He pulls his phone away from his ear and puts it on speaker so he can change clothes while Emma talks.
“Then what would you say, love?”
He imagines she shrugs, and if he wasn’t disgustingly sweaty despite his shower at the club, he’d video call her instead of this. “I would say you had a colorful reputation.”
“For fuck’s sake, that’s the same thing.”
“No, no, it’s not,” Emma sighs. “It’s…”
“Swan, I was on the verge of getting all my sponsorships taken away at the age of twenty-two. I’d barely gotten started, and I nearly fucked it all up by drinking too much and being enough of an idiot to do it in public.”
“And now you’re England’s poster boy for all sports, so at least from a publicity standpoint, it’s all okay.”
She’s right. He knows she’s right, and he appreciates being talked down after an awful contract negotiation with one of his sponsors and what will surely be an equally awful conversation with Ariel later. They decided that they suddenly had issues with some shit he pulled six years ago, and he’s tired of having to explain himself to people.
His fucking brother died, and Killian didn’t handle it well. How is anyone supposed to handle that, let alone a twenty-two-year-old whose only family was that brother? It was too much, and while he didn’t tank his career, he did derail it, drinking and sleeping around and making horrible choices for his body. There are times when he still wants to do that, but he knows better now. His grief is private, and the world will never see it again unless it’s on his terms.
“My brother’s life was taken because of a drunk driver, and, you know, I’d give up all the sponsorships to have him back. I’d give it all up. And I know I did a piss poor job at dealing with my grief by getting drunk just like the man who killed him, even if I never got behind the wheel, but what was I supposed to do? It hurt too much to not be dulled.”
The other end is silent, and he focuses on his own breathing. It’s heavy now, and he can feel his heart thumping. He hates this feeling. He hates talking about his past, and he damn well hates having to talk about Liam like this.
He’s got no fucking clue why he’s talking about it with Emma, but she called right after the meeting and he spilled his guts out of frustration.
“I never met your brother,” Emma says so quietly he can barely hear her, “but if he was anything like mine, I can guarantee that he’d be proud of you for getting through it and continuing to move forward. Life sucks, Jones, and we all deal with those sucky moments in different ways. I, for one, eat massive amounts of icing and candy. I have an entire stash in a drawer in my bathroom so David can’t find it and scold me for it.”
Killian huffs and reaches up to yank his shirt off before falling back on the bed. He tugs on his hair before blowing it off his cheek. He needs a haircut.
“You keep icing in your bathroom? That seems unsanitary.”
“I promise it’s very secure.”
Killian hums and more silence falls between them. He doesn’t feel the need to fill it, but he does anyway. “I live alone, so I think I may not need to hide my icing stash. I’d have to get one first.”
“Cream cheese is the way to go. It’s, like, two dollars and all the calories are so worth it.”
“Have you ever considered making it at home?”
“I would give myself food poisoning. I can’t really cook.”
“No?”
“Absolutely not. Never learned how to do anything past the basics, and I’m not home enough to try. When I do, Mary Margaret always takes over so I don’t get food poisoning.”
“Where are we together next? Rome?”
“Madrid,” Emma sighs, and he hears a dog bark in the background. He’s sure she doesn’t have a dog, but maybe someone she’s with has one. Or she’s walking around her neighborhood. He never did ask what she was doing. Instead, he immediately started bitching about his sponsor meeting, and then they ended up here. Most of their conversations veer off track, so it’s nothing he isn’t used to. “I get there Monday.”
“I think the same unless I lose early here.”
“You best not. I have money on you.”
“Well, that’s a good way to get yourself suspended.”
Emma laughs, and Killian stretches out on the bed, flexing his feet. “Well, if you don’t tell anyone, I think I’ll be okay.”
“I swear I shall not say a word. Also, Swan, I don’t think we’ll have access to a kitchen in Madrid, but when we get to Rome, I’ll cook you something.”
“If I’m in Rome, I’m not wasting a dinner on your cooking.”
“We can eat two dinners then,” Killian suggests.
“I like that idea.” The dog barks again in the background, louder this time. “I have to go. My neighbor’s dog is walking over this way, and I have to give him my full attention.”
“Bye, love.”
“Talk to you later, Jones!”
The phone goes silent, and Killian closes his eyes. It’s been a rough day for a myriad of reasons, and all he wants is to sleep. His call with Emma has calmed him, as they usually do, but that’s something he often doesn’t like admitting to himself.
Getting involved with Emma would be complicated, and Killian isn’t sure he can do complicated anymore.
His phone buzzes, and he opens one eye to look at the message.
Ariel Fisher: I’m coming to talk to you because you stormed off.
Ariel Fisher: I have the key to your room, so make sure you’re dressed.
Ariel Fisher: I’m bringing dinner, so I know you at least kind of want to see me.
Killian Jones: I’m in the nude, and I’m not changing for you.
Ariel Fisher: It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.
Killian Jones: That is your fault for walking into my bathroom without knocking.
-/-
Killian wins in Monte Carlo, and it feels good to have a trophy for the first time since late January. It’s only April now, and he’s only played three tournaments since Australia. Yet, he had higher expectations for himself for this year. It’s a great year by anyone’s standards, but Killian has really focused on his training this year. He wants another record year like two years ago, and if he keeps this momentum going, maybe he can do that.
That year, he’d worked off the motivation of heartbreak. This year, he’s trying to work off the motivation of doing something for himself.
Whatever keeps him in the game.
Whatever keeps him loving what he does like Liam asked him to do.
-/-
The thing about Killian’s job is that he’s constantly surrounded by bloody people. From when he’s playing a match to doing press to sitting in the living room of the houses and apartments he rents for some tournaments when he doesn’t want to stay in a hotel. Sometimes the only times he has to think are when he’s on court, which is ridiculous because that’s when he’s surrounded by the most people and is supposed to be focusing on his plan for the next point.
Tonight, Killian had planned on having Emma over for dinner, but Ariel, Eric, Will, and Rob have all shown up and are sitting on his couch watching the television and he’s desperately trying to get Emma to pick up her phone before she arrives. He’s sure Nemo and Al could show up any second by the way things are going.
“Hello?”
“Swan!”
“Hey, I was just about to get a car from the hotel to your place. Everything okay?”
Killian sighs and massages his fingers over his forehead. “It seems my team and my mates have decided they’re spending the night with me, so if you want to stay at the hotel, I would understand.”
“Oh?”
“Aye. Of course, you can still come if you want.”
“Is there still going to be food?”
“Absolutely, but I don’t think I’ll be cooking it.”
“Then I’m coming,” Emma laughs. “Would you mind if I brought some people over as well? I can pay for their dinners.”
“The more the merrier,” Killian says, even if that is not how he intended his night to go. “See you soon, love.”
Killian walks back to the living area and settles down in an armchair, bracing himself for the onslaught of questions he’s about to get. “Emma Swan is coming over for dinner. She’s bringing people with her. I don’t know who yet, but I know she is.”
Slowly, everyone turns and stares at him, and Killian is already dreading everything about tonight.
“Why the fuck is Emma Swan coming over?” Will asks as everyone else nods. “I didn’t even know you knew her.”
“How would I not know her?”
“Oi, you know what I meant! You know her, but you know her in a way that has you say hello in the hallways, not that you invite her and her mates over to take our food.”
“You were not invited here tonight, Scarlet.”
“I am always invited.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Ariel sighs, holding her hands up between them. “I need more of an explanation. How did this come about? Are you dating Em – ”
“No, A. Bloody hell, no.” Killian stands from the chair and straightens out his t-shirt. “We got to talking about food one day, and I casually invited her over. Believe it or not, I can have other mates besides you lot.”
“Your personality says otherwise,” Rob teases, and Killian rolls his eyes.
“Alright, alright. What should we get delivered for dinner? A little bit of everything?”
“I still have so many questions,” Ariel tells him.
“I have no more answers. I’m going to order food. You guys can keep watching the match.”
“Isn’t this who you play tomorrow?” Rob asks.
“Mhm, but Nemo will take enough notes and give them to me, so I don’t have to watch the match too closely.”
Killian walks away from the living room and goes through the contacts in his phone for the restaurants he likes, and once he settles on one, he orders several meals for delivery, chatting with the owner and promising her he’ll be in to see the entire team before he leaves Rome.
There’s a knock on the door, and Killian glances out the kitchen window. He can see Emma, Emma’s brother, and her sister-in-law. He was expecting Ruby Lucas and Anna Jergenson, but he shouldn’t be surprised. Her family is nearly always with her.
Ariel gets to the door before he does, hugging and greeting everyone. She knows David and Mary Margaret from constantly working with Mary Margaret over management collaborations, and while this is a large industry, there is always going to be overlap amongst certain people.
“David, nice to see you,” Killian says, walking into the room and taking David’s hand before kissing Mary Margaret’s cheeks. “Mary Margaret, beautiful as ever. Hey, Swan.”
“What? Am I not as beautiful as ever?” she jokes as she embraces him. “I got all dressed up for this. I’m wearing leggings that don’t have any holes in them.”
“I thank you for your effort.” He pulls back and winks. “I’m sorry for the slight change of plans, but I guess I’ll give you food poisoning another day.”
“Can’t wait.”
Killian guides them into the living room, where it’s a mess of greetings and jumbled conversation, and Killian settles himself back in the chair in the corner, watching everyone talk. They’re in the middle of one of the busiest stretches of the season, and it’s nice to have a night where he can relax. He has a match tomorrow and possibly even more depending on how tomorrow goes, but he tries to forget about those. That’s something Killian is still working on. Liam was the one who usually made him forget, and while his mates, many of them under the same pressures, do a damn good job, there are rarely times when his mind doesn’t race with the possibilities of how everything good in his life can slip away.
Killian rents this house in Rome every year because it was Liam’s favorite, so this week is always a particularly difficult one when everything reminds him of his brother.
When the food arrives, Killian spreads it around the kitchen and gets out a few bottles of wine. He won’t drink tonight, but others might want to. They fill their plates and settle back in the living room, the match that was at the forefront now in the background as Rob and Will take the piss out of each other for how badly the mangled the Italian language while asking for directions earlier today.
“I didn’t grow up speaking two languages! I’m still learning!” Will grumbles.
“You trained in Italy for most of your childhood.”
“I have no excuses for Italian, I know. I do speak French pretty well.”
“Oi, and none of us have to wonder why that is,” Rob laughs.
“You’re all wankers.”
“Why does Will know French?” Emma asks him from her seat next to him.
“His girlfriend is from France.”
“Ah,” Emma sighs, picking up a piece of ravioli and putting it in her mouth. “This is delicious. Much better than whatever it was you were planning on cooking.”
“I’m going to prove you wrong one day.”
She shrugs and puts her plate down on the coffee table next to her glass of wine. “If you say so. Where’s the restroom?”
Killian points to the hallway behind the kitchen. “Second door on the right.”
Emma nods and stands from her seat, walking away toward the bathroom. He gets a notification on his watch that he’s got a text from Nemo, and it looks like a long one. Sighing, Killian moves away from the conversation and down the hall to his bedroom so he can text Nemo back. It’s an analysis of his opponent for tomorrow, and Killian skims through it. He’ll read it more in the morning since his match isn’t until the afternoon, but if he doesn’t text Nemo back now, he’ll call until Killian does. The man is a damn good coach, but he can also be high-strung.
The bedroom door clicks behind Killian as he closes it, and at the same time, Emma leaves the bathroom. The two of them are nearly pressed together in the close quarters of the hallway, and Killian aligns himself against one wall while Emma does the same with the other. Still, he can feel her foot brush against his, and he is close enough to see the freckles on her face.
Those freckles are what have himself tilting closer, his breath intertwining with hers, and for every movement he makes, Emma makes an equal one, the voices in the background fading away as Killian focuses on the flutter of Emma’s lashes and the subtle twitch of her lips. He mirrors her, curling up one corner of his mouth and teasingly tapping his lips.
“Please,” she laughs, “you couldn’t handle it.”
“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”
Emma studies him as heat swirls around them and tickles up his spine, pulling him closer to her. He watches her, waiting to see if she’ll do something, but he expects her to make a joke, to turn away like she sometimes does when things get a little too serious between them when they’re talking in person instead of over the phone. She doesn’t always do that, not when he’s the one sharing, but when it comes to her, she’s more guarded, holding everything deep within.
Emma Swan is constantly subverting expectations, however, so when she pulls on the collar of his shirt and tugs his mouth to hers, he takes a moment to reciprocate.
Bloody fucking hell.
Emma is kissing him.
And she’s damn good at it too. Killian reaches up to thread his fingers through her hair, pulling and tugging until he can take a little of the control back from her. She’s a demanding one, and while he can’t say he minds, he would like a little control too. Her lips are soft, and she tastes of wine and the spices of her ravioli. He could get lost in it all, especially when she moans in response to him backing her up against the wall. Her back arches, and Killian rolls his hips as Emma’s kiss teases him. The friction is fucking amazing, and it would be so easy to take a few steps to the right to his bedroom and…
Suddenly, Emma pulls back, lingering in his space, breath hot against his skin, and Killian can feel a smile tugging at his kiss swollen lips.
“That was – ” Killian mutters, leaning in to kiss her again.
“A one-time thing,” Emma quickly tells him, shoving at his chest until he backs away, a mountain of space between them. “I’m going to go back to the living room. Actually, I think I need to go home. I have an early training session tomorrow.”
“Swan – ”
“Thank you for dinner. It was great.”
Then she’s gone, blonde hair falling away, and Killian can’t move from his spot, standing there with his fingers against his lips. He listens to her tell David and Mary Margaret she’s ready to go, listens to her telling everyone goodbye, and then she’s gone, the front door shutting behind her.
What the hell just happened.
And when did he fall halfway in love with Emma Swan?
Fuck.
“What happened to your hair?” Ariel asks when Killian gets the strength in his legs to walk back to the living room.
“Nemo,” he lies. “His analysis for tomorrow had me tugging on it.”
Ariel studies him like she doesn’t believe him, but then she’s back to drinking her wine and talking to Eric, her life going on as normal even when his isn’t.
-/-
He gets blown out of the water in his match the next day.
He can’t compartmentalize his thoughts, putting the personal behind him and the professional in front of him. That’s been the key to all of his success. No matter what’s going on in his personal life, he can always lace up his trainers and take the court, leaving all of that behind him.
Today, it’s like everything that’s happened to him in the past decade has come flooding back, and Killian wants nothing more than the floodgates to stop.
-/-
Emma doesn’t respond to any of his texts.
He pretends it doesn’t bother him as his team leaves Rome and flies to Paris, immediately preparing for Roland Garros. Killian can fuck around at other tournaments on occasion, but he can’t do it at a major. There are only a handful of those to go around, the importance of them will never be lost on him.
Even if sliding across the clay is the last thing he wants to do right now.
“Smaller steps,” Nemo yells from his place on the sidelines. “You’re going to fuck up your ankle if you run like that.”
Killian adjusts his footwork and keeps moving, sweat slicking down his back as the crowds around the practice courts fill in while more players keep showing up. When he sees long blonde hair in her trademark braid three courts over, his step nearly falters.
It doesn’t.
He can’t.
If Emma is going to put distance between the two of them, he’ll let her. He had a life long before he began talking to Emma Swan, and he’ll have one if she never talks to him again.
He’s a liar if he says that his world would be anything other than miserable for awhile.
-/-
Killian crashes out in the quarterfinals of Roland Garros, and he immediately puts it behind him, bracing his shoulders for a month of grass court tournaments in his own country, where the pressure is always highest.
Sometimes it can be suffocating, but he has to do it.
-/-
“Okay, now that you’ve answered all of our questions, we want to show you a little video clip,” Chris McKendry tells him while Killian adjusts the mic resting on his ear.
“It’s never good when you tell me that, Chris.”
She laughs, as fake as always, but Killian goes along with it. “I promise you’ll enjoy this one.”
A producer for ESPN hits play on the video, and Killian keeps his eyes glued to the screen even as someone slides several bowls of strawberries and cream in front of him. The video of he and Emma from California plays on the screen, all of the promotional work the two of them did that day after she took the piss out of him for his answer to how he ate strawberries and cream. Killian forces a smile on his face, not allowing the cameras to see him slip, because this is what he does now. He’s a perfectly polished PR machine. If he’s going to show emotions other than happiness, they’re going to be either on the court or behind the scenes with no cameras rolling. They are certainly not going to be here.
“So, Killian,” Chris laughs as the video rolls, “we thought it would be fun to bring you some strawberries and cream with a spoon to eat them.”
Killian chuckles and takes the spoon, scooping up a large helping of the strawberries and cream and eating it. It’s not bad. He doesn’t like it, but it’s not the worst thing he’s ever had to eat because someone has asked him to. And the faster he plays along, the faster he can get out of here.
“I think I’ve got it right now,” he jokes, “though I know my last answer went viral because I failed all of Britain with it.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that, but we are giving you this chance to redeem yourself so you can have this crowd behind you for the fortnight. With your draw, I think you might need it.”
“Draws don’t always hold up, but nevertheless Chris, I’m ready for the challenge.”
“You always are.”
-/-
She’s fucking incredible to watch.
She moves with grace but with incredible power underneath her feet and determination set between her brows. Her play gets better with every match she plays, and Killian is mesmerized by it even if he’s been avoiding her matches over the past few weeks. But now she’s on Centre Court, and her match is playing on the screen above his bike where he’s cooling down from his match. There is no avoiding it, and he can’t say he wants to at the minute. He’s obviously a glutton for punishment.
He’s seen her draw, knows that it’s just as difficult as his, and while she might not win here, the Olympics are just around the corner on these same courts. He can’t imagine her not winning at least one of the two.
Then again, he is aware of his bias, but he is also aware of Emma’s skill.
Killian grabs his phone and takes a picture of her match, posting it on his Twitter, which Ariel has told him he has to use more since he “needs to interact with people online.”
@KillianJones: She’s graceful like a swan but also just as vicious. What a match to watch on my cool down. @Emmaswan is the type of player every kid should try to emulate when they pick up a racket
It’s an olive branch.
If she doesn’t take it, Killian will be fine. He may have fallen hard and fast, but that doesn’t mean Emma did. She is free to take things at her own pace, whatever that may mean for the two of them.
-/-
@emmaswan mentioned you in a tweet.
Killian swipes across his screen and opens Twitter, where he sees a picture of yesterday’s match. It’s from high above in what is obviously a private room, but it’s still clearly him on court, pumping his fist after a big point, the crowd standing all around.
@EmmaSwan: @KillianJones, I don’t think any of these people like you. You should try to get them on your side.
He laughs and falls back on his couch. He’s not well liked in a lot of places, but in his home country, he knows that as long as he’s winning, he has the country behind him.
No pressure.
@KillianJones: @EmmaSwan maybe you could help me out. How do I get the crowd to like me?
@EmmaSwan: @KillianJones cook them a home-cooked meal. It’s the way to everyone’s heart.
Killian nearly drops his phone. She’s joking. She has to be. This is the first time he’s so much as talked to Emma in weeks, and she either doesn’t realize the magnitude of her words or is sending him a clear message.
Emma has never cared much for subtly.
He closes out of Twitter and texts her, hoping he’s not fucking up the olive branch she took by snapping it in half.
Killian Jones: I’m making salmon tonight. It’s just me here tonight. I promise. Do you want to come over for dinner?
Emma Swan: How good is your salmon?
Killian Jones: It’s good.
Emma Swan: I’ll be there.
-/-
Emma Swan walks into his home like she belongs there. She steps inside his front door, removes her trainers, and easily walks to him in the kitchen, propping her hip against the counter while he prepares dinner. They talk, mostly about work, and Killian tries to act as unaffected by her presence as possible. The last time they were this close to each other, he had Emma pressed up against a wall. It’s been over a month since then with very little communication, and Killian constantly feels like a bucket of ice has been dropped over him.
He still doesn’t believe she’s here when he is clearly having a conversation with her.
They eat dinner on his couch, the television turned low in the background, and the conversation stays stilted. If Killian is honest, he wants to sink into the cushions and have this night be over with, but he knows better. Either this night firmly cuts the ties between them, or it ties the string back together.
He knows which one he wants, but he dare not speak for Emma.
“This is really good,” Emma says as she scoops up some of her remaining salad. “Thanks for cooking.”
“Thanks for coming over.”
“It’s a really nice place. I bet it must be nice to be able to stay home for a month while still working.”
“Yeah, it is.” Silence falls between them again, but it’s not comfortable, not like it used to be. “Look, Swan, I – ”
She holds up her hands and places the plate in front of her on his coffee table before twisting around and crossing her legs under her on the couch. “Don’t.”
“Pardon?”
“Don’t say it. Don’t apologize for doing something wrong when I’m the one who made out with you and then ran away. I fucked things up between us, and I don’t know how to fix it.”
“Do you want to fix it?” he suggests, knowing the line he walks is thin.
Emma shrugs, sheepish smile on her lips. “I don’t know. I don’t – I mean, I like…you’re…we’re…I don’t know, Killian. I am obviously not the most emotionally aware person, but I care. I care about my family, my friends…you. I care about you. Like, a lot, which was unexpected.” She leans forward and buries her face in her hands, all of her words coming out muffled. “I don’t know how I can do this without messing things up between us where we’ll be avoiding each other while having to walk the same circles.”
Killian arches his brow and stifles his laugh. He shouldn’t be laughing. This isn’t funny, but there is something comical about it.
“What I’m hearing is that you fancy me.”
Emma peeks out from behind her hands, and she glowers at him. “Seriously?”
Killian shrugs and leans forward, grabbing her hands and slowly intertwining their fingers. “I have no bloody idea what I’m doing either, and I don’t mean to upset you Emma. I really don’t. But we make quite the team. I think it would be foolish not to try, but I’ll do whatever you want.”
“That’s really fucking unfair to make me make the decision.”
“If I did, you would find a way to turn it around on me.”
She digs her nails into his palm, but he doesn’t flinch. “Asshole.”
“I would agree with that assessment most of the time.”
Emma rolls her eyes, but there’s also determination there, green, blue, and gold all mixed together to create the emotions hidden just below the surface. “We don’t tell anyone. Like, no one. I don’t like my private life to be public, and if we tell other people, it’ll become public. I’m already risking a hell of a lot possibly being with someone who I’ll have to see on tour if things get fucked up, so I want a safety net even if this doesn’t solve every issue.”
“You’re a romantic.” She parts her lips to protest, and he squeezes her hands, leaning forward and lingering in her space, closing half the gap. “But I agree with you, wholeheartedly. I was with this woman, and – ”
“We don’t have to talk about our pasts right now. I’ve got a match at one tomorrow, so we sure as hell don’t have time to get through everything. I’m also not entirely sure I trust you with everything yet.”
“You shouldn’t,” Killian half jokes as his lips ghost over hers, “but I hope to earn it.”
“Good,” Emma whispers, wrapping her arms around Killian’s neck and pulling him those final few inches toward her until her lips are softly gliding over his, pulling him under as pleasure trickles up his spine.
Good. This is all damn good.
They have no idea what they’re getting into, but Killian can’t wait to figure it all out.
-/-
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subarubi · 4 years
Text
The List
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary: Everyone’s got a submission to his list. Watch this. Read that. Go there. But you’ve never given him anything. Not a single idea of what it is you like, what makes you feel at home in this world. Never made an effort to bridge the gap between the 40s and now, and yourself and him. And it oddly bothers him.
Word Count: 3.6 k
A/N: this is my very first reader insert i’ve written and am posting, so i’m excited :) appreciate anyone who takes the time to read!
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Everyone’s got a submission to his list. 
Watch this. Read that. Eat here. Go there. I Love Lucy. Moon Landing. Berlin Wall. Steve Jobs. Disco. Thai food. Star Wars. Nirvana. Rocky. Troubleman Soundtrack. Things he absolutely must do if he wants to call himself a modern man. Which, he does. But kind of doesn’t? Doesn’t even matter much now anyway.
You don’t.
Have a submission to his list, that is.
You’ve never been talkative anyway, he reasons. You’re quiet, reserved, and a bit of an outsider in this haphazardly thrown together group of extraordinary people. 
Not that you’re ordinary, not in the slightest. You’re a comet. Your power, palpable. A volatile missile, ice and dust carving a hole through space. Nucleus, hard body amalgamation of granite muscle and tungsten bones. Tail, a whipping flurry of wild hair, muted decimation in its wake. No, you are far from ordinary.
You just... stick to the walls.
With arms-- arms he’s seen bring men to their knees-- crossed over your chest, face set in marble. Not unfriendly. You’ll talk nice when prompted, smile when appropriate, but you never initiate. 
You seem to prefer a distance, a line between work life and personal life. A line that just doesn’t exist with the Avengers. Somehow, though, you manage to maintain the separation. Natasha’s prying questions, Stark’s intentional invasions of your personal space, Sam’s harmless but persistent flirting. 
It’s all so easily deflected. 
Made even easier now that the family you’d always resisted has been fractured. 
You don’t care to foster intimate relationships with any of these people. And you definitely don’t care to put in a submission to Captain America’s To-Do List. 
Everyone, everyone has something to add to his list. Even Bucky, Bucky, who has spent the better part of 70 years in and out of cryo, brain pulled apart and replaced with a new, foreign synapse each time, said something about a movie he’d seen somewhere. 
It bothers him. It shouldn’t, but it does. 
Steve can physically feel it--  that’s how much it bothers him. A now permanent path of his eyes to your form in a room. An itch in his fingers for a pen and paper anytime you say anything. A burn on the tops of his ears, hot and red, if you smile softly at some reference he doesn’t understand. Is that a signal? Would that be a suggestion if you actually talked to him?
Regardless, he trusts you. A boundless amount. Unexplainable given just how little the two of you have actually spoken.
You don’t make suggestions for the list, and it only really bothers him because he does trust you. He wants to know what you have to say, what you think is important for him to experience. What you like. If, perhaps, what makes you feel at home in this world could help him too. 
It’s a Thursday and he’s thumbing the pages of his notebook when Natasha gets the idea. 
The quinjet cabin is filled with a heavy, pregnant silence that no one can bear to cut through. Full-term. Unbearable pressure on the sciatic nerve-type silence. 9 months discomfort and anxiety, stifling their words. 
A mission gone right, but leaving a bad taste in their mouths. 
Bucky sits near the front, aimlessly bouncing a tennis ball against the starboard wall. Sam is in the co-pilot seat, trying to read a book with a red cover and yellow spine. Nat’s knuckles turn white on the yoke, keeping the quinjet on track even though it could pretty much fly on its own. 
You like music, Steve thinks. You there now in the back corner-- fingers drumming to the private beat on your thigh, eyes closed and head tipped back, white of earbuds in stark contrast with your dark combat suit-- is a frequent sight. He imagines your recommendation might be an album for him to listen to. 
Steve’s fingers ghost over the familiar scrawl of his list; some crossed out, some recently added. 
He decides it could use more music. 
You should just ask her, Natasha smirks, jutting her chin your direction. When she moved to sit next to him, Steve didn’t know. But, she is, after all, the spy. He’d been otherwise occupied anyway. He lifts his bowed head up to fix her with a puzzled look. Nat gives him that smirk and Steve has to fight back a groan. Knocking her knee against his, she teases,  you know, she can probably feel you staring.
His eyes shoot over in your direction, sighing a little in relief when you seem to still be lost in the music pumping in your ears. Steve realizes Natasha isn’t talking about the list. Years now, and she still hasn’t given up on playing his personal matchmaker. It’s slowed, surely, due to circumstance, but she’s never satisfied. A date. He should ask you on a date, is what she means. He’s suddenly as red in the face as the tips of his ears and Natasha’s hair. 
Steve’s not blind. 
You’re attractive. 
Soft and hard in so many ways. Lips, pink and pillowy and parted ever so slightly. Sharp line of your jaw clenched, brows furrowed. The gentle curve of your neck, warm skin disappearing beneath a dirt stained, hole ridden suit that hasn’t seen mending hands in months. Not since you followed him in his free fall from grace. 
You’d followed. Wordlessly. Burned out, abandoned by coworkers and the public, you resigned yourself to this life of Motel hopping and operating outside of the realm of what’s legal. Though not outside of what’s right.
Pondering what any of that could mean feels forbidden to Steve.
The hard shell of a man, not any less great, but perhaps less sure.
He looks back at Natasha with a low shake of his head, abruptly shutting his notebook. She sighs, but takes the hint. Enough. Not now. 
Almost a year later, he does ‘just ask’. 
It’s kind of like a date, in barely-there ways. You’re left alone, facing each other in a booth, knees brushing. You go to the bathroom, Steve orders for the both of you. Kind of like a date. 
Stuffed in the sticky booth of some diner in Middle America, alone together. Natasha gone off on her own again. Bucky recovering in Wakanda. Sam out like a light on a creaking Motel 6 mattress-- hard, just like he likes it. Your muscles like jelly, stomachs rumbling with the dull ache of hunger, soaked head to toe from the torrential downpour outside. No idle chit chat for you two. Steve stares out the window, impossible blue eyes following the path of a raindrop. You ring the bottom of your shirt out onto the small bit of floor between two pairs of feet. It splatters on the ground loudly. 
Not a date. 
You risk a glance at him over the piping hot brim of your coffee mug. Silently marvel at just how much he’s changed through thin white wisps of steam. More than longer hair, more than a handsome and disguising beard, more than the ripped out star of his suit sitting in a heap on the motel room floor. You can’t say how, it’s more a feeling. 
He’s a lot quieter now. Like you. 
Steve’s always been stoic. Passionate when needs be, but not exactly loose with his emotions; never as restrained now. His voice was always strong and sure, but never quite so gruff from frequent disuse as in this past year. You suppose it’s partially your fault. With Natasha gone much more now and Sam talking enough to carry a conversation himself, you’re not exactly great company. You might be one of the reasons he speaks less and less. 
A pretty waitress is smiling wide at him, a signal that she knows. A beard and hat pulled down as far as possible would never be enough to hide those golden boy blue eyes. 
Those eyes millions of women would gladly melt into a puddle of rainwater on the dirty floor of some diner in Midwest America for. You’d have to ask for a mop later to clean up the mess. Yours and the one spilling from ‘Molly’s lips. 
I heard you have a list, she smiles coy. You tuck in to the plate of chocolate chip pancakes doused in maple syrup as she bats her eyelashes down at him. 
Steve shifts, glancing over at you seemingly uninterested in the conversation. He’d given up on you having anything to do with the list weeks ago. He may be a fugitive-- may no longer be an Avenger, Captain America-- but he’s still a nice guy.  
Yes, he laughs kindly, hands clasped together on the table top.
You sniff and his eyes snap to yours again, tense. You’ll have to leave soon. Now that ‘Molly’ from the midnight shift at Red’s diner has seen Steve Rogers and his pretty blue eyes, you’ll have to wake Sam from his long overdue sleep and be gone before dawn. You wish he could’ve been left longer. It’s just how things work these days. A long shot from living plush, courtesy of Tony Stark. But you can wait long enough to finish coffee and breakfast.
Can I make a suggestion? she leans down and speaks in soft tones, a wicked grin hidden beneath those sweet, innocent looking red lips. 
You raise a brow when Steve politely nods, pulling out his trusty notebook from his back pocket. Steve asks to borrow a pen which she hastily holds out to him, purposely having their fingers brush in the exchange. Surely he knows she’s flirting, he’s not that naive. There’s no way. He’s a nice guy, maybe too nice.
She’s young. You imagine she has spent more than a few nights looking up at a poster of his face, clean shaven and perfect, playing this exact conversation in her head. That she has carefully thought over what her input would be. 
You should definitely watch ‘Friends’ when you have the time. 
You snort. Loudly. 
Molly instantly shrinks in on herself, deflated. Steve gives you an odd look, which you brush off and promptly resume shoveling the sweet breakfast food into your mouth. 
He’s so kind, it’s downright disgusting. 
Steve makes a point of writing it down underneath ‘Stevie Wonder’, smiling, Thank you. And for good measure, when he returns the pen, Captain America runs his ring finger across her knuckle. Oh, he knew. So considerate, you almost want to smirk when you catch it.
She’s gone now to wait on the other late night stragglers, blushing and gently ghosting her fingers over the spot he’d touched. Your hurtful mocking isn’t enough to dampen the feel of being caught in Steve Rogers’ warm glow. 
His knee presses along the inside of yours again when he shifts to shove the small book back into his pants. You take a measured sip of coffee. 
Steve raises a brow in your direction, Did you have a better suggestion?
There. He’s asked. 
Maybe he could finally breathe in your presence now. 
No luck considering you simply shrug and break from his gaze. So unreadable. It’s frustrating. He has half a mind to write ‘shrug’ underneath ‘Friends’. Are you? Friends, he means. You’ve known each other what feels like a lifetime now. At whatever this is for a year and a half. He can count on one hand the amount of conversations not involving a mission you’ve shared. 
He trusts you with his life, which, after everything that’s happened, is a rare commodity. He’s sure you feel the same. 
You’d say that no, you’re not friends. You probably wouldn’t deny the unfathomable trust in each other, though. That’s comforting at least. You sleep a bed away every night after all. 
Steve doesn’t really sleep. 
He doesn’t know you know that; you don’t sleep either. 
He’s staring, maybe he doesn’t realize it. 
You’ve abandoned your fork, suddenly feeling sick with it. That fucking blue. It split you like butter and might’ve knocked you over had you not been tightly gripping your knee under the table. 
So handsome it hurts. 
How could anyone be that pretty? Heartbreaking. Even before the serum-- you’ve seen the pictures. Breathtaking. The beard. The beard is really something. So so pretty. Adonis and Aphrodite. Michelangelo’s David. Torturous. 
It’s been almost a full minute now. Of him, just staring. 
You clear your throat in hopes it might pull him out of whatever it is that has claimed him. It doesn’t work. You talk just to end it. You know for certain that will surprise him. 
Why do you even keep up with it? The list. That stupid goddamned list.
You can see the flush on Steve’s neck when he does realize that he’d stared at you, through you, in you, for the longest two minutes in history. He coughs into his fist. 
What do you mean? his brow furrows, and you almost want to touch the crease between them to make it go away. It’s a ridiculous thought. One you shake away with another measured sip of coffee. 
Doesn’t it seem... you shrug, and there’s an urge in him to grab you by the shoulders and beg you to stop fucking shrugging so goddamned much. Steve thinks he might go insane if he sees those shoulders twitch up again. I dunno, kind of pointless now?
In a way, yes, it is. 
Steve can’t exactly pop in a film or binge watch a tv show like this. And sitting down to listen to read a book doesn’t really seem right.
He doesn’t answer. You watch him finally pick up his own fork, cutting into an omelette more cheese and meat than egg. 
It still rains down hard. 
Steve pays the bill, smiling tightly at Molly when she lays her hand on his bicep. He tips her well, she was sweet and young and still half terrified from just you snorting. 
You follow a few paces behind him out of the diner, mindful of maintaining that distance. 
Neither of you bother to fight against getting soaked. 
You’re both immediately set on edge when three cars pull into the parking lot, tightly together. It’s the kind of thing you’d been trained to be suspicious of. The kind of thing that never means anything good when around people like you. It means they have come for you both. It means you'll probably have to fight. 
He pauses underneath the buzzing neon sign. His back is to you, the tense expanse of muscles outlined by the wet shirt clinging to his skin. A breath. Another. 
Giggling.
You hear giggling of all things, bubbling through the parking lot. Girls, a whole crowd of them, spilling out of the cars, hushing each other. His name is on their cherry chapstick lips. Not his name, his title: Captain America. Molly had texted them, that’s clear now. 
It’s better, at least, than your previous estimation. But it’s trouble nevertheless. 
Steve turns to face you and somehow, the soft glow of red on his face only makes his eyes bluer. He takes a step forward. You understand. You always understand in the absence of words. There’s a link between the two of you when you’re in that working mode. That trust, tangible in how you too, step forward. 
It’s procedural. You fall into it so easily.
His head ducks, yours raises. Eyes locked in one another, but ears elsewhere, listening. Not touching, but near to it. A breath away. Swaying in the rain. You feel it sizzle on your skin, see it coming off him in steam. 
No one bothers the two lovers, obviously too occupied with each other to be superheroes. Natasha had taught you both that. 
It pours harder yet. 
The giggles fade into nothing, drowned in the monsoon-- no space between the fat drops pelting the earth. They couldn’t see the two of you now even if they tried. 
Why did you come? You never really said, he has to shout, the rain is so loud. 
You’ve left a lot unsaid. Some things are better that way. 
Steve’s hands, large and powerful, stop your shoulders mid shrug. Don’t, he squeezes his eyes shut, drops of rain trickling down the slopes of his nose, For the love of God, don’t fucking shrug.
Everything is heavy: your drenched clothes, his hands still gripping your shoulders, the crushing weight in your chest-- the rock lodged in your throat with all the things you’ve never said for the sake of some stupid credo about not letting things get personal. You’ve let the words die on your lips and for what? 
It did nothing. The lines blurred anyway, out of your control. 
The truth: there hasn’t been a distance greater than the width of his notebook between the two of you for a long time now. 
You pretend. 
You both pretend that absence of any extended conversation means you haven’t already learned everything about each other just by watching. Stealing glances when the other is turned away. 
Steve pretends that the reason your input in the list matters so much to him is because he wants to know the people he’s trusting with his life. 
He already knows you. Not your favorite color or band, but you. Your outline in the darkness of a thousand motels. The smell of you under layers of grime and sweat and blood-- you’re scrubbed clean with the same soap he uses. Your breathing patterns: one when you’re resting with your earbuds in, head bopping to songs he’s not been privy to; another when you’re side by side in combat, moving together like one; the most prominent, when you’re both laying in bed staring at the ceiling, too lost in thought to even care about sleep. 
You know him too.
His question. How do you answer? You followed. Wasn’t that answer enough?
Where’s your notebook? You ask instead, though it’s more of a call in this downpour. 
Steve’s brow furrows again, left hand flying back to pat the small book in his pocket. This time, you do reach out, though you don’t have to go very far. His breath quickens when the pad of your thumb brushes against the wet crease of skin pulled together in uncertainty. He swallows hard, rifling through the pages a little messy because he can’t stop looking at you. Your hand stays there until the pressure releases. For a good second after, too.     
When he finally opens it up to the two pages worth of ‘to-do’, the ink is running. Black to blue. A melted mess of jumbled letters on delicate paper one wrong twitch away from ripping. 
You take it from his hands, gentle, because you’re pretty sure this notebook has been a lifeline for him. Grounding. There’s sketches in there that you’ve only caught glimpses of. 
You lament now that it has been ruined by the rain. 
I don’t have a pen, he says softly. Softly, because he’s closer now than you’ve ever been. You’ve never heard him so soft. So cautious that his voice might scare you away. 
You spare a languid glance up to see just how close he is. It must be only inches because you can hear him through the rain. You tilt your chin to the sky, heavy lids widening slightly. 
He’s closer than even that. Not inches, centimeters. If you hadn’t been swaying in synchronization and instead leaned forward at the same time...
You don’t even know what you’re doing. For the first time in a while, you’re scared. 
The book is closed between your palms, the list shut. You’ll deal with it another day. You’ll help him remember everything that was on there so he can rewrite it. 
Steve leans in more. Not enough. 
I’ll just tell you then, you nod. Steve’s chest brushes against yours as you both suck in heavy breaths. You press the notebook there, against the hard swells of his front, closer to his heart. 
Which question are you answering? Why did you come? Or did you have a better suggestion?
Bob Dylan.
What?
Bob Dylan. Bringing It All Back Home. 1965.
Oh.
The stupid list. For years now, that’s all he’s wanted to hear. But there, under the neon sign, in the parking lot of Red’s diner, drenched in the deluge of rain, it’s not enough. 
We’ll listen to it together, you smile and he’s never seen it quite so big or bright.
Together. It is enough. 
Your lips taste of rain and maple syrup. He’ll remember it for a while. Forever, maybe. And him, you don’t recall something ever being so rich in your life. Steve’s mouth, so decadent you could die with a sated smile still. It’s all the sweeter, the press of your lips together; in it all those words left unsaid. You breathe them into his mouth, warm and red and waiting, and he sears them back into yours with the delicate slide of his tongue. Mouths together form lost sentences and sing. A crescendoing flurry of soundless vowels and consonants that only the two of you will ever hear. 
Steve faintly hears the notebook fall in a splash at your feet and you can feel the grin in his lips by the scratch of his beard against your chin. You’ll feel guilty for dropping it later, but your hand had been hellbent on curling itself under his arms and around his shoulder. His own hands cradle your neck and face, slipping across the rain wet planes of your face. And those forearms, like hams, rest heavily on your shoulders-- so that you can never shrug again. If you can’t find the words, Steve’s content to have you speak them on his lips. 
Everyone’s got a submission to his list. 
But yours come with a kiss. 
Yours is the only one that he’s ever really cared about.  
Sam complains weeks later that he’s sick of hearing Bob Dylan.
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blushing-starker · 4 years
Text
For my Gracie dear. What would I do without you in my life? Merry Christmas darling. @vaguekiwi
"Well, you wouldn't really be in this position if you had accepted my proposal, baby cheeks. In fact, I'm practically drooling over the thought of you saying fuck it and coming to visit with a few surprises beneath that second skin you're rocking." Two sentences, two very different tones of voice, both trying to coax him in. Reprimand and flirt, the only possible courses of action for Wade when it came to them.
"So I guess it's true what they say; chivalry died when you were born, Wade. Every single conversation between us is proof and the world knows it." He grinned as soon as he heard the exaggerated gasps over the landline, always loved these tennis matches with his partner in crime.
Sure, the 'red devil' of Cliffwood often threaded barely subtle, often outlandish innuendos into their interactions and never denied the neighborhood a chance of seeing him draped over Peter, but it was, God forgive him, fun. Exciting and a little thrilling.
And also past their bedtime. So to speak. "I gotta go and I know Wanda likes to cook late. Go help her in the kitchen, Mr Gifted Hands. Vision might give me an A in the next exam if I told him I encouraged you to make his favorite lasagna." It won't happen, obviously. The Maximoffs, because Vision had adopted the name on his second date with Wanda long before their wedding, were usually chaotic neutrals that tried sticking to the right side of the law. Hopefully, Mr Maximoffs' morality would at least allow the man to add a five point bonus on Peter's next physics test.
"Oh, you finally admit my hands are gifted, Mr Parker? How forward of you." If there was one thing that he loved about being friends with the incorrigible Wade Wilson, it was how the man oozed sex like it was nothing. His surety in it, in flirting, in courting and joking made Peter feel at ease. Most people, even those like Mr Rogers with his slightly conservative views, enjoyed Wade's antics because they were harmless.
Most of the time. The guy had slept with two thirds of the town, after all.
"I'm not sleeping with you, Wade. What would Vanessa say of-"
"Please, the woman basically throws me at people in the hopes of watching me sleep with them."
"you being with me before her?"
"..."
Peter squinted at a shiny red nail, worried he'd somehow messed up Morgan's job of decorating him in the Christmas spirit. The lamp next to the couch is a tad dimmer than usual, right, he has to swap the bulbs. He'd completely forgotten in the midst of playing with Morgan and Rocky, baking them brownies, battling the upstairs shower mold, decluttering the toy boxes and throwing something semi appealing for dinner. There was a spare light in the, was it the garage? No, his memory had been reduced to physics laws and the kids' allergies, but Peter's sure he would have noticed. Maybe Morgan had hidden them in the office, Rocky liked chewing on light bulbs so it's not too unlikely
"Shit, Parker, now I'm thinking about that, Jesus. Christ on a bicycle! Hmm? It's nothing, Wanda, just Peter being a brat and a tease."
"Hey, I'm not a brat!"
"Says you. I bet a certain member of the awesome facial hair club could evidence the opposite. Actually, I'll go right over and ask, hey!" The sound of Wade distinctly face planting onto the Maximoffs couch sent Peter into enough hysterics he could barely make out what Wanda was saying.
"I sincerely apologize for the little devil-"
"I'm almost two heads taller than you!"
"that can't seem to mind his manners no matter how many times we try to teach him how to be human."
"It's," God, he's wheezing like a freshman first day of gym with Coulson, "perfectly alright, Miss. I'm the one that should say sorry for keeping him up so late, I know he has chores to do around the house. Lovely Christmas lights, by the way. I think you guys might win the competition again this year."
There's a tiny worm of guilt crawling up his throat; how could he distract Wade when Wanda had her hands full with an energetic baby ready to sprint out of the house at any moment?
"Oh sweet Peter," she drawls out the vowels, like they're honey and she's trying her best to stretch them out, savour them, "you really think so? I thought the yard looked perfect, but Vision insisted on decorating the roof to 'ensure our win against my dear brother in law'. And please, a happy Wade that's finished his teasing for the day is wonderful for us. He cleans faster and doesn't kiss my cheeks as much."
"Wait, you did the roof?" He knew the Maximoff siblings were intense, had witnessed Pietro stabbing flamingos into Clint's lawn just to add some color to his already bright remodeling a weeks ago.
"You haven't seen it? Tell Morguna's father to take you outside to see it while the kids are watching television. That way you can go back with an excuse if you get too nervous with him."
Peter spluttered, ignored the fact his cheeks were flaming, pretended he couldn't hear Wade's howling through the phone. "I don't, I wouldn't, it's not like, I mean. The, the kids will probably sleep early tonight."
"Perfect, you won't have an excuse and he'll finally kiss you. Oh, Vision. Hello, dear, I'm saying goodbye to Peter. That idiot might kiss him tonight."
"Hello? Hello, Peter. I'm very happy for you both; but may I request you kiss after midnight? I'm afraid I made a substantial bet regarding that kiss and was hoping to get Clint back over Banner and Natasha."
Great, he'd died and entered a hell where the only thing he could do was stutter and flush crimson. Typical Parker luck, really.
"SurebyeMrandMrsMaximofflaterWade."
He slammed the phone back on its pedestal, dove into the leather couch and screamed until his throat ached.
--------
"Daddy? Peter, daddy's here! Don't let him go to our room until we're done with the Christmas card, please!" He yanked his head from under the cushions, scrambled to the door, tripped over Morgan's race car, narrowly avoided the destruction of Rocky's Lego chop shop, hastily stashed a pink apron in the drawers by the door, failed to straighten his sweater (a gift from the kids' grandmother) and took all of ten seconds to fix his hair before opening the door. In the exact moment the owner of the house leaned against it to enter.
There's a second where realization kicked in, worry is splashed over both their faces, he darted forward to help so the man's heart didn't shut down on them right then, said man wanted to preserve such a young, healthy body; they tried to control the damage.
They failed. Spectacularly. Crashed into each other, somehow elbows and knees sunk into bad spots, bone snapped, ligaments wept in pain, a chest became winded, one of them got a black eye and the other a constricted throat. This was, of course, before it started raining and two idiots got drenched while piled up on the front door.
Peter gasped, wasn't sure whether it was better to lie under his dream, his wet fantasy, his goal in life or allow his brain some oxygen.
To be fair, this would only happen the once. He could breathe for the rest of his lonely life.
"Uh, welcome home, Mr Stark. How was work to, today, sir, that's not my thigh." Wade would know. Jesus, Wade would find out Mr Stark touched his dick for the first time and it wasn't even on purpose.
"Kid, I'm so sorry. Here I was wondering if I could give you your Christmas gift without ruining the box and now look at me. Peter, you don't have to come back to work if you don't want to-"
"Wait, you got me a gift, Mr Stark?"
"I will pay you for this whole month, obviously." The man shuffled back, attempted to shakily stand up like a foal and immediately slid down onto the sleek young man.
"Not come back to? Mr, ow, Tony, I'm not going anywhere. Not on Christmas, not ever. Look at me." Don't look at what's between my legs, Peter prayed, don't look at how you are between my legs, don't look.
Tony Stark glanced down, inhaled sharply and snapped his gaze to the au pair's. He may have leaned against what he hoped was his Christmas gift. Maybe.
"I'm not leaving, Mr Stark." The rain kept drizzling into the house, his throat continued to ache, the distance between their two bodies remained the same. But there was something in Mr Stark's eyes now, yes indeed, something Peter had resolutely ignored for the past six months while working with the sweetest family he'd ever known. It was the same something Wade yelled about when talking about his best friend's employer's face as it regarded the au pair.
"I think Wade might kill me if -"
"Rhode's is gonna choke me out if-"
"Are you two gonna kiss or not?"
They risked whiplash to peer right at, or, in Peter's position, upside down at Morgan and Rocky who unflinchingly stared at the ridiculous site their fathers made. Rocky even shook his head the way Tony did when he was disappointed. Little Morgan criss crossed her arms and Peter thought he'd sob because that's just how he taught her.
"We were going to put mistletoe on the door when you came in; we finished the holiday card months ago so that was the one thing left on the to do list."
"Months ago? I helped you two make one last week!"
"Oh yeah, how were you going to hang up mistletoe, daughter mine? There's no nail." A soft thwump over the doorway. It seemed Clint had given Morgan her own bow. And she knew how to use it.
They collected their courage, scraps of reduced pride, some drool and a tiny drop of sweat before turning to the man they'd been waiting for for so long.
"Mr Parker, will you do me the honor of bestowing a kiss upon an old man with creaking bones and heating hair?"
Oh. Oh, this was happening.
"I love your hair and I'll get you a walker that has a cup holder for water and a few pain pills. Mr Stark, will you kiss a kid from Queens who's so into you the red devil of Cliffwood himself doesn't dare sleep with either of us and get in the way?"
"Well, first of all. A walker, really, am I that old. Second, nice call on the pain pills, very good save on the hair. And please. He'd never get in the way of us two-"
"Great, are you gonna kiss me?"
"Why, Mr Parker. Don't mind if I do." It was a soft statement he would otherwise confuse as a plea.
"Fucking finally." That was a bit more of a pained gasp instead of a sigh of relief, but Morgan and Rocky were doing enough sighing for the both of them afterwards.
Afterwards though, when the blood is finally distributed to the right places
"Yeah, I think I broke my wrist and you should get that throat checked. I'll get the car."
"Tony, it's the fifties. I can get the car while you call Bucky to look over the kids. Anyone talks to me and they'll think you had something to do with my throat."
"That is a fantastic idea, sweetheart. Save it for later, maybe raincheck?"
"Get the car, Tony."
"Yep. Come on, you rascals. Help an old man out."
----------
Wade can't look at Tony without howling, mutters something about a limp wrist while Vanessa sighs and apologizes, compliments Peter on surviving life with a ridiculous best friend by his side. He says it's ok. Wade's his go to guy for whenever Peter has to get his head in the game and his lips on Tony's.
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ascari-chicane · 4 years
Text
the match
warnings:none yet
word count:2.8k
                                        first chapter-the match
Madelyn got out of her class in hurry afterwards, her feet carrying her to her IT classroom faster than ever. She was blushing like crazy, Mr. Sainz has looked at her more often than not. She didn’t wait for Ivy, running towards IT. As she ran in the classroom, a few students that were there looked at her weirdly but she only waved, dropping her bag next to her spot and sitting down. Alexandra walked in and sat behind her, in her assigned seat. Even behind Madelyn, it didn’t take long for her to start a conversation with Madelyn.
“Hey Mads, how is-oh dear, are you okay?” she asked as Madelyn turned around. She nodded quickly.
“Just a bit hot and Mr. Sainz didn’t help” Madelyn said as she used the first thin notebook she found in her bag to fan herself. Alexandra squealed, attracting some eyes towards them but she shrugged it off.
“So you admit that he is hot?” Alexandra wriggled her brows and Madelyn scoffed.
“I never said he isn’t going to be hot, I just said that he can’t be THAT hot. But everyone was right, if it was possible, he is even hotter” Madelyn sighed dreamily but shook her head. “Yeah, I’ll leave it to my fantasies later since it won’t happen”
“How do you know?” Alexandra said and Madelyn’s eyes widened.
“Girl, A, it’s illegal, B, he can find someone better and C, he is way out of my league” she said sadly but Alexandra scoffed.
“Girl, A, it can be fun, risky but fun, B, he can if you don’t try and C, everyone here is out of your league” she said and it was Madelyn’s turn to scoff. “True. Anyways, you ready for the big game?”
“Of course. When do we have to be at the hall?” Madelyn said as her IT teacher came in. Alexandra and Madelyn were the famous duo in volleyball, Madelyn was libero and she always got the perfect balls to Alexandra.
“5. Starts at 6. OMG, do you think that Mr. Sainz could be there!?” Alexandra whisper-yelled.
“Why would he?”
“New professor. Our team will win the league, he must want to see us play. Plus you in those shorts? Knocking him dead.” She said and Madelyn almost giggled.
“Shut up!” she said and turned around as her IT teacher started explaining something on Word, her mind on Mr. Sainz. Should she invite him? She took a paper from her notebook to write to Alexandra.
“Should we invite him?” She wrote and slipped the paper behind her, feeling Alexandra grab her hand and take the paper. Her IT teacher was younger guy, he was hot, but not as Mr. Sainz, Ivy had a crush on him. He was too engrossed in explaining something to a guy in the first row. Suddenly, a paper was thrown to her desk.
“YES INVITE HIM! I WANT TO SEE HIM” She smiled and then frowned, turning around since her IT professor didn’t pay any attention to the back of the class now.
“Only me?” Madelyn asked and Alexandra nodded with puppy eyes, smiling as Madelyn rolled her eyes, already knowing she would say yes. “Fine”
“Thanks Mads” she said and Madelyn smiled, paying attention to her class.
When the class ended, she checked if she had anything else but her Music professor cancelled the class. She texted Lena, who had 2 more classes, that she is going home and ask her if she’s coming to the game. Lena plays tennis but is always on games. She got a reply in a minute.
LENA: Of course! I’ll be there in 5:30 J
She unlocked her car, dropping her bag in the back when she remembered that she told Alexandra that she’ll ask Mr. Sainz to be at the game. She groaned and put her head against the steering wheel, grabbing her phone and getting out. She slammed the door of her car and locked it, making her way across the school towards the Central Building where the offices are. She checked the schedule and saw that he doesn’t have a class now but has a class the next period. Madelyn groaned silently, she really didn’t want to be alone with him. She made her way towards his office that was on the same place as her ex Spanish professor’s was. She saw the door, with neatly written “C. Sainz” on a golden tab. She knocked, hearing a deep voice say “yes” before entering.
Carlos was sitting at his table, glasses she didn’t see him wearing on top of his nose. The office was neat, filled with books. He looked up, his eyes meeting hers. She couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran up her spine as he got up, taking his glasses off, leaning against the table.
“Miss Garcia, I didn’t expect to see you here. May I help you with anything?” he asked politely.
“Uh yes. I wanted to invite you for our game. Since you are our professor and you are new, you kind of have to go. It’s a volleyball match, we are playing against the school from across the country. We are leaders in the league so yeah. I mean, if you don’t want to or have some other-“
“I’ll go.” He said and she nodded. “You are playing, right?”
What? “Uh yes, I am libero” she said, confused.
“Sure. When is the game?”
“Six” she said and he nodded.
“See you then, Miss Garcia” he said and smirked, fighting the urge to look her up and down again. She definitely caught him doing that in class, he can’t risk her catching him again.
“Yeah, see you” she said and turned to leave, opening the door. His eyes fell down on her butt. How much I want to just grab it in my hands while we are making out, squeeze it and feel it between my palms, he thought when she suddenly turned around. Crap, he thought as she looked confused. She caught him. Again. Fuck. “Just wanted to say that you should probably be there by 5:30, there will be many people so you can grab good seats.”
“I will, thank you” he said and she left. He slapped himself on his forehead. You fucking idiot, he thought.
Madelyn sat in her car, breathing rapidly. Did he just stare at her ass? She shook her head and drove off, arriving to her house pretty soon. She showered and put her hair in high ponytail, grabbing her jersey and shorts, along with her sleeves, knee protectors and some rollers for her back. Her coach would bring them all water so she didn’t pack it. She had some time left and decide to try to find him on instagram.
She found him quickly and stopped herself when she saw an open profile. She really shouldn’t… But she had to. She started scrolling down his photos, stopping on one with a gasp. It was on a beach, he was shirtless and with a couple of friends, laughing. She bit her lip and lowly moaned, squeezing her thighs. How did he manage to make her so aroused? Almost like an instinct, she double tapped a photo from July last year.
“SHIT!” She screamed, dropping her phone but picking it up and un-liking the photo. She groaned in frustration but grabbed her things and left after saying bye to her parents who will come later. Her brother left with some friends to have a dinner. Her mom and dad will have to work afterwards since they are doctors. She quickly drove off to the hall, parking and calling Alexandra.
“Hey, are you in hall?”
“On my way” she replied and hung up. She had to be driving so she can’t talk. Madelyn got out and locked her car, leaving to the dressing room. She dressed as Alexandra walked in.
“Sorry I hung up on you, I was driving” she said and hugged her.
“No problem Alex. By the way, Mr. Sainz is coming.” She said and Alexandra squealed.
“Yay!” she yelled and their teammates walked in, chatting a little before they got dressed. They stretched in the dressing room so they could exercise in front of people. As they were on their way towards the hall, their captain, Sarah, stopped them to wish them good luck as the subs got out. They heard loud cheers for them and Sarah stopped them again to peek out.
“Every seat is filled.” She said and Madelyn took a deep breath. “Okay we can do this” she said and put her hand in the middle. Alexandra, Madelyn, Kate and Sarah put their hands. “Nadia. Mary. We can do this” she said and everyone put their hands in the middle. “LET’S GO” Sarah said as roars were heard from outside, making Madelyn extremely anxious. They walked out, the crowd greeting them with a loud roar. Madelyn smiled as every bit of anxiety left her body-she felt like she was home. They got onto their half of field, starting with some exercises. Madelyn, as a libero, went to side, waiting for their assistant coach to come and prepare her. She looked around the crowd, searching for her parents. She saw her mom and dad quickly. She waved and they waved back. As she saw assistant coach coming towards her, she cast one look around the hall when she saw him.
His eyes weren’t hard to miss, they seem like they can stare into her soul.
“Mads, let’s start” Assistant coach, Jeremy, said and she nodded, casting one more look behind her at Carlos. He smirked and winked at her, making her turn around quickly so he couldn’t see what a blushing mess she is. They prepared quickly so she joined the others, working with them before a whistle was heard, 5 more minutes until the start of the game. Their coach gathered them, taking his time to explain the tactics and everything. The whistle was heard again, making her nod to herself. She can do this.
“Welcome to the most important game of the season!!!” their announcer, Jacob, screamed on the mic, causing the hype to rise. The 6 of the girls chuckled at him. Jacob was also Sarah’s boyfriend. “I will read the lineups of the away crew over there!” he yelled and read the lineups, crowd clapping for them. “OKAY OKAY! LET’S START WITH THE HOME CREW!” He yelled and cheers could be heard from everywhere.
“Our captain, the irresistible, Sarah Silverson!” he said and Sarah rolled her eyes at her boyfriend, receiving screams from the crowd as she high fived everyone, running out on the field.
“Next, the fierce, Kate Miller!” he yelled as Kate ran out after high fiving everyone, crowd never stopped cheering.
“Next, our one and only, Alex Brown!” he yelled and Alexandra did the same thing, crowd is really a fan of hers, she saved the team on their last game.
“After our Alex, the girl who never gives up, Nadia Jones!” he said and Madelyn screamed for her with the crowd, she returned to the team after a break. She was in a tough car accident and didn’t play for a year but prepared and is back. She high fived everyone and ran out.
“Alrighty! Prepare for the strong wave, MARY LOGAN!” He yelled and Madelyn high fived Mary from sidelines while she high fived everyone in the field, crowd never stopping.
“And last but not least, the Spanish fuego to the team, Madelyn GARCIA!” Jacob yelled and she laughed, crowd going mental. She almost got hurt badly in one of the last games. Madelyn ran out, everyone bent down to make her crouch, mocking her a little since she was short but she knew they never meant it in a bad way. She laughed as she high fived everyone. They made a circle and screamed their team’s name, getting in their positions. Madelyn looked up to see her mom and dad on their phones. She sighed sadly and looked towards Mr. Sainz, whose intense gaze almost knocked her out. He was paying attention to her, not her butt as she expected but her face, her body language. She shook her head and turned around, preparing to play. What she didn’t notice was Ivy and Lena, smiling as they saw their friend have a gaze with Mr. Sainz. And they were definitely watching him, but not for them anymore. They were checking him, if he was looking at Madelyn. And he always was.
The game ended 3-1 for their team, they played hard and won, the other team just has to practice more. Madelyn was chatting with Lena and Ivy after the game, next to the stands when her parents approached her.
“Good game Mads” her dad said and shook her shoulder. Her mom was still on her phone. Ivy sighed and gave her a sympathetic look, Madelyn wasn’t really great friends with her parents. Her dad was always working, and she gets it, but when he’s home, he has friends over and almost never checks on her. Her mom guilt trips her a lot, but then acts nice around other people. She is never enough, with all the A’s she has, her brother is always better. She knew they didn’t follow the game.
“Thanks dad” she said and they chatted some more with Ivy and Lena when Lena coughed and discretely looked behind Madelyn. Madelyn turned around and saw Mr. Sainz approach them. She looked towards Lena and Lena nodded, they know each other long enough to know that that meant “do I look good”. Madelyn turned around and Mr. Sainz was there.
“Hello Mr. Sainz” she said and her dad and mom paid attention now, her mom watching her with raised brows. He smiled at her.
“Please, call me Carlos outside of the classroom, Madelyn” he said in a deep voice that almost made her tremble. She loved the way her name rolled off his tongue.
“Okay, Carlos” she said and didn’t notice Lena and Ivy leave, but felt her parents’ eyes on her.
“Who is this, Madelyn?” her mom asked skeptically.
“Mr. Sainz, my Spanish professor” she said and her mom smiled.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” He said and Madelyn could’ve passed out when he moved next to her, his left arm curling discretely around her waist to shake hands with her mom and then her dad. “Mr. Garcia” They seemed oblivious to his arm around her but that’s all she could think of. They had a little chat, mostly about Carlos, where he’s from, how was Madrid.
“And I cheer for Real Madrid” he said and Madelyn gasped. Her dad chuckled. “What?”
“She is Atletico fan” He said and Carlos frowned.
“Aye Miss Garcia, you could’ve chosen the better Madrid” he said and she smirked.
“7-3 Mr. Sainz. 7-3” she said and smiled, his eyes drifting to her lips quickly before he smiled and touched his heart, moving his arm from her.
“Ouch Miss Garcia. One bad game” he said and everybody chuckled.
“Okay. We’re leaving. Mads, you drove yourself?” her mom said and she nodded. “Okay. We are going to the hospital” they said and Carlos nodded, since they already said they are doctors. “Bye! Wait, you have money for pizza?” she asked Madelyn who nodded. “Okay, bye honey!” she said and they left, leaving only Carlos and Madelyn. Everyone already left so it was only them. He turned towards her.
“Great game Mads” he smiled as he said her nickname, his smile widening as she laughed.
“Thank you. Uh… I need to go” she said and he nodded.
“Of course. Sorry for taking your time and thank you for inviting me” he said and watched as Madelyn got rid of her hair tie, her hair falling down and framing her face. He couldn’t resist. His fingers pushed her hair behind her ear, causing her to gasp. She looked up to him and he only smiled, his hand dropping to her waist. “When is your next game?”
“It’s uh, not here, I think, but I, I, I am not sure” he watched her, amused, as she stumbled upon her words. His arm left her waist and she stopped talking.
“Okay. See you in class, nena” he said, smiling as she whimpered, leaving her standing there. She took a few deep breaths, heading towards their locker room, showering and washing her hair, finishing quickly and putting on her stuff when she noticed a paper laying there. She picked it up and saw that it was a note from Alexandra.
Girl, get it ;) –Alex
She laughed and stuffed it in her bag, heading towards her car. She sat in the seat and smiled, she could still feel his fingers on the side of her face. She drove off, quickly arriving home and ordering pizza. She took her stuff off and changed into pj’s when she heard her phone buzz. Weird, nobody should be texting her now. As she picked it up, she dropped it, gasping and holding onto her cupboard.
@carlossainz55 has requested to follow you
Shit.
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k-popmakesmyday · 5 years
Note
Hi! Can I make a request? It's a fem reader x Johnny. The fem reader are very innocent girl and whatever she does always make Johnny laugh and lover her even more. In the end she asked for a first kiss but she's too shy to ask. And if u don't mind, can u make the story is a bit longer and full of fluff? Thank u! Take ur time! 💕💕
Thank you for requesting lovely!
Rules for requesting are here
[Monday, 1:02 pm]
“so.. that’s how it happened?” Your best friend, Ten asked you as he sipped his coffee while you told him the events of two days ago
“It was magical Tennie, he asked me to be his girl/boyfriend in front of the fountain and it was like time stopped”
You sighed as you mindlessly played with the spoon that danced around your mug of hot chocolate, Ten laughing slightly at your wonderous antics
“I didn’t think Johnny to be the sentimental and sappy type,” you pouted before Ten shot you a cheeky smile “but I’m happy for you, baby”
Before you could reply to the smirking boy your phone buzzed with a notification
New text from Johnny💝: I’ve been thinking of you.. would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow?
You typed back a quick yes before blushing profusely and giggling out what just happened to the black-haired boy who sat across from you.
[Tuesday, 12:05 pm]
You checked your outfit in a stores window as you passed by practically bouncing along to see your favourite boy, you couldn’t stop thinking about his text since you had recieved it, so you were essentially buzzing.
Smoothing down your clothes before you stepped into the park that Johnny told you to meet him at, you felt your breath hitch upon the sight of him and the surroundings.
The chestnut-haired boy sat on a red-and-white checkered blanket payed over some grass by the lake. The blanket littered with various dishes and cutlery that your heart melted at the sight of. Johnny himself was dressed in a simple shirt and jeans but still wore a jacket despite it being the end of summer, still he was the epitome of perfection.
He met your surprised glance and gave you his signature warm smile before making his way over to you, he enveloped you in a warm hug engulfing your smaller figure with his tall one. You sighed contently as you rested your head on his chest.
“Hey you,” you could hear him smile in his voice “I hope you’re hungry”
You nodded feverishly before pulling away and looking at the beautiful spread that lay out before you
“You did all this?” You blinked in utter awe at the boys effort
“Of course,” he replied “you deserve the best and now that I can call you mine, that’s what I’ll give you”
You blushed an embarrassing shade of red before settling down on the soft blanket, your knees tucked under your body to the side. Letting your gaze wander to the nearby lake and how it glistened in the afternoon sun, you watched the many couples and families ride on various swan boats, not noticing that Johnny had sat down beside you and was carefully unpacking all that he had brought.
When you looked back your eyes widened in surprise, seemingly endless plates of triangular-shaped sandwiches with the crust cut off (just how you liked them) lay before you with various meats, spreads and veggies filling them. There was freshly baked scones with cheese and fruit and little cupcakes with pastel frosting of all colours.
“Wow,” you gasped “did you make all these by yourself?”
The boy giggled sheepishly before replying
“Well I had Kun send over some recipes but mostly, yeah. Do you like it?”
“Like it?” You scoffed “I love it, thank you”
“Well, Bon appetit, madam/sir”
And that you did, you devoured the various treats, each one tasting better than the last with every flavour blending perfectly together. Perfect, just like the boy who made them.
On the other hand, Johnny simply sat back and watched you enjoy his culinary creations with a childish delight sporting your features. He sweared he fell in love with you more with each bite you took as endless ‘thank you’s and ‘this is so good!’ Spilling from your lips every few seconds.
[Wednesday, 9:28 pm]
“And then, he took me on a swan boat ride across the lake all through the park. Although a duck flew in the boat once and he was so scared we almost capsized!” You giggled upon remembering the endeavour
“I would’ve payed to see that” Ten chuckled from beside you as the both you layed on your couch upside down in strange positions.
It was a tradition with your one and only best friend to meet up and have a movie night every Wednesday since Ten was off work and you didn’t have any class that day. Pizza was ordered, shows were binged and tea was spilled, a lot of tea.
“Is it bad that I already miss him Tennie?” Your best friend rolled his eyes before taking a bite of his pepperoni pizza, purposely avoiding the slices with bell pepper with a disgusted glance (look I know it’s fruit he hates but I refuse to put pineapple on pizza I’m sorry it’s just w r o n g and I can’t handle it)
“Y/n, you know I love you, but if you keep pining over my best friend I will throw up on you”
You pouted up at the dark-haired boy before shifting your gaze to the rom-com playing on the tv while taking a sip of your drink
“-plus I invited him over for movie night because I knew you wouldn’t do it”
Your eyes widen before spitting your drink all over your bewildered best friends face, the liquid burning your throat and your nose.
“WHAT!?”
Ten glared at you before wiping his face with nearby napkins, originally for your greasy pizza hands, before continuing;
“I invited him over because I knew you’d never have the guts”
“He’s my boyfriend, Tennie, of course I would’ve invited him.. but movie night is always just me and you”
Ten rolled his eyes playfully before shrugging
“Kun hyung invited me out for drinks so I think I’ll live”
“Why didn’t you tell me~~” you shook your best friends shoulders lazily before you heard a melodic knock at your door, and you froze
“That’s my queue to leave, babe” Ten grinned at you before kissing your cheek and heading to the door and giving Johnny a quick hug before leaving.
You silently padded over to your boyfriend as he wrapped you in a warm embrace, you instantly relaxed
“Hi” you squeaked, in such a child-like tone Johnny swore his knees almost gave way
The brown-haired boy chucked before answering you “hey, you”
[Thursday, 7:04 am]
You awoke to the smell of toast being cooked in your apartment before a smile spread across your face. Due to the lack of wanting to leave your boyfriends warmth last night, you whined at him until he agreed to sleepover.
“Good morning” you mumbled while taking a seat on the kitchen counter as your beloved boyfriend buttered two pieces of toast.
“Morning, sunshine,” your boyfriend smiled upon taking in your dishevelled appearance, his love struck grin grows wider when he remembers how you fell asleep so peacefully in his arms last night causing him to ever so carefully carried you to bed while he slept on your couch (not before sneaking a small kiss to your forehead but you didn’t hear it from me) as your relationship was still new. “I know it’s not fancy pancakes or anything, but I thought you’d appreciate your apartment not burning to a crisp”
Your heart flutters st the thought of your caring boyfriend even considering making breakfast for you, and you shook your head.
“No, it’s perfect. Besides this is fancy toast,” you smirked as Johnny raised an eyebrow at you
“Really? How so?”
“They were made by the Johnny Seo, this is the finest piece of toast in all the land” you dramatically gestured with your hands before Johnny swept you off of the counter, twirling you around your kitchen, causing you to giggle like a five year old.
“Only the best for the prince/princess of the land”
After breakfast you gathered all of your things for class before practically running out the door
“Y/n, wait!”
You whipped your head around, what could possibly be so important that it risked you being late for your lesson
“Yeah?”
“You forgot your keys, silly” the giggling boy said before you grabbed your keys that were dangling off of his index finger
“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver!”
“You’re welcome. Have a good day, angel”
“You too! Love you!” You said before rushing out the door.
It took a few minutes to register what you had just said. You just told Johnny that you loved him. Was it too early for that? You had only been official for a week! You cringed as you shoved the thought to the back of your mind.
[Friday, 10:29 am]
You shifted your weight from either foot as you awkwardly rubbed your elbow with your other hand. Staring down your boyfriends dorm door-bell with rage ad you tried to force yourself to announce your presence. You mentally counted down from three before squeezing your eyes shut and pressing the doorbell and hearing the echo from inside the dorm.
Your breath hitches and your panic level rose as you heard what seemed to be a stampede towards the door, followed by a lot of bickering and shushing.
The boy who opened the door was ineffeably beautiful, ‘it must run in the group’ you thought as the light haired boy stuck his hand out for you to shake, you glanced over the boys shoulder to see 7 seven pairs of eyes peering right back at you in wonder
You timidly shook the boys hand as he smiled brightly at you
“You must be Y/n, right? We’ve heard a lot about you from Johnny-”
“Yeah, a lot” a sarcastic voice erupted from near the back of the sea of boys, he was shorter than the others and had sun-kissed tan skin
Taeyong sighed, “you’ll have to excuse them, they’re idiots.” he shot the boy a glare before looking back at you “Come in, won’t you? Johnny will be home soon, he’s out running some errands”
You smiled slightly at Taeyong before stepping into the dorm as you took in your surroundings. The entire place reeked of boy, the floor littered with clothes and the coffee table scattered with unfinished drinks and dishes.
“I’m so sorry,” Taeyong muttered as he rushed around the living room, picking up various bits of trash and throwing them away “I thought I told someone to clean up as we had a guest coming over” he seethed through gritted teeth
“Oh, it’s okay” you giggled “it’s not like I’m used to a bit of mess”
Over the next twenty minutes, you learned the names of the other boys and you fell in love with their friendship as a group. Even if Haechan, the boy who made the previous remark, drove them insane. You helped them clean up the dorm despite Taeyongs protest by the experience found to be quite enjoyable in the end.
When Johnny returned home from his errands, he smiled at the sight of you laughing along with his members. If he was being honest, he was slightly nervous for you to meet them due to the fear of you not liking their rowdiness. He stood in the door waiting for you to notice him for about two minutes before he became too impatient and maybe even a tad jealous.
You yelped at the feeling of arms wrapping around your waist from behind, relaxing instantly when you saw your boyfriends smug expression
“Guys~ stop stealing my girl/boyfriend, they’re mine”
The boys ‘ooh’d and hollered at you and Johnny rolled his eyes at them and carried you off to his room
“I’m sorry you had to go through that” he rolled his eyes playfully at you
“It’s okay! They’re actually really nice.. and not scary at all”
“Scary?” Johnny cocked an eyebrow at you
“I was kind of nervous to meet them to be honest” you giggled sheepishly
Gazing at Johnnys endless brown orbs as they sparkled when he talked about his members, your eyes carefully studied his features until they landed on his perfectly plump lips. You watched in amazement as he formed each syllable flawlessly, all you could think about was kissing him.
“Johnny?” You whispered, your voice barely audible
The boy stopped his rambling and gave you a soft glance
“Yes, y/n?”
“Could you- um- c-could you-”
You struggled to force out your request as your eyes flickered from the boys confused gaze and his lips, until a knowing expression washed over his features.
“A kiss, baby? Is that what you want, hm?”
You shakily nodded as the boy cupped your cheek and leaned in, pressing his pillow-like lips to yours for a few seconds before pulling away and smirking.
“How was that?”
“Hm.. one more time to make sure”
Your lips met once again like two puzzle pieces that were made for each other as Johnnys hands went around your waist as he gently brought you closer to him. When he pulled away you chased his lips, making Johnny giggle.
“Y/n?”
“Y-yeah?”
“I love you too”
You couldn’t wait to tell Ten. Although, on second thought, maybe you’d keep this one between you and your beloved Johnny.
K so this turned into a fic in the end lmao, we’re not gonna talk about how long this took bye hope you enjoyed -Em
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crowdedimagines · 6 years
Text
Home - David Dobrik
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word count: 1960 summary// David asks the reader to come back home to chicago with him even though they are just friends
“Please, Y/n” David groans.
David has been begging and pleading all night for me to come back home to Chicago with him. He hates traveling alone and was looking for someone to go with him. Usually he would just take Jason, but he can’t come because Wyatt has a concert at school.
“Fine!” I finally give in, he has been persistent about it.
“Thank you!” He exclaims, he goes over to Natalie to ask her to book another flight for me.
“When do we leave?”
“Uhhh, in a few hours.” He immediately gets a guilty look on his face.
“David.” I groan, “We leave tonight?”
I look at the clock, it’s already seven. Natalie yells from her room that the flight leaves at 11:00.
“I can’t believe we leave so soon David! Why didn’t you tell me it was that soon?”
“Because then you would have for sure said no.” He smirks, knowing he’s right.
“I am going home to pack.” I inform, getting up from the couch and grabbing my car keys off the coffee table.
“Thank you, Y/n.” He sing songs, he does a dorky little dance as he walks over to where I stand. He gives me a hug and eventually lets go.
On the drive home I can’t stop thinking about the trip. I’ve never gone back home with David before.
I take a shower and pack all of the warm clothes that I have. The midwest is definitely colder than Los Angeles is right now. I’m excited to go to a new city. I’m also excited to spend time with David.
David picks me up at my apartment building so I don’t have to drive straight back to his place. He opens the wings of the car for me to put my stuff in the backseat.
“Hey!” He greets.
“Hi.” I smile, putting on my seatbelt.
We almost miss our flight but thankfully we don’t. David got us first class tickets, meaning it’s only David and I in our row. We film a bit together before David turns off his camera and puts it away.
Our flight is late enough that they pass out blankets. David and I both recline our seats and curl up in them. I rest my head on David’s shoulder and neither of us acknowledge it.
“Wow, David you’re going to actually go to bed at a normal time.” I tease.
“I know, it doesn’t feel right.” He laughs.
I manage to fall asleep and I don’t wake up until David is gently shaking my shoulder.
“Hey, we’re about to land.”
I sit up and start putting all of my stuff together.
“Where are we staying tonight?” I ask, my eyes still half closed.
His face flushes for a second before he scratches the back of his neck.
“David? Tell me we have a place to stay tonight.” I laugh nervously.
“We do, it was just kind of a last minute trip so…”
“So?”
“We have to stay at my parents house tonight. We have a hotel room for the other nights but it was too late for tonight.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Is that alright?” He questions.
“Yeah! I don’t care, you just had me nervous that we were going to be on a park bench somewhere.” I joke.
We get our luggage and take an Uber all the way to David’s family home in Vernon Hills. His family knows that we’re coming so the light on the front porch is on.
“Awe, David this is your house.” I punch his shoulder lightly.
“Yeah.” He laughs and brushes it off.
We go inside and I scream loudly when the entire Dobrik family jumps out at us. David is laughing hard now, he was just as surprised as I was.
“What the hell?” He laughs, “I thought you guys would all be asleep by now.”
“It’s a Saturday, mom and dad let us get up!” Toby explains.
“Oh my god, Y/n!” Ester and Sara scream and run forward and pull me into a tight hug.
“Hi!” I smile and hug them both back.
“Wow, where’s my hug?” David pretend to be hurt that his sisters hugged me first.
“Y/n is actually cool.” Sara explains, making me burst out laughing.
“I am so glad that I came.” I laugh.
Everyone settles down a bit after that, David introduces me to his parents who are very nice. They all decide to go back to bed, simply stating it was too early.
“Y/n, you can sleep in my old room.” David throws his bag down on the couch.
“Okay, where are you sleeping?” I ask.
He jumps on the couch and nestles in to answer my question. He looks too long for it, there is no way he could be comfortable right now.
“David, you aren’t serious are you?” I ask, I give him a look.
“I’m fine, Y/n. Really.”
“David, it’s your room.”
“So?”
“So, I feel bad just taking your bed.” I laugh.
“Don’t, I made you come here anyway! You’re doing me a favor.”
“David it’s not like that any you know it.”
He gives me a look at sits up a little bit.
“Why don’t you just come up with me?”
David thinks for a second before getting up off the couch. He leads the way upstairs to his bedroom. He opens the door and I imagine it’s exactly the same as it was when he was a teenager still in high school.
“Wow.” I laugh at some of the old pictures.
“Shut up.” He groans.
We both set down our bags before getting under the covers. Since knowing him we have never shared a bed together only ever naps on his big couch. It isn’t as weird as I thought it would be.
“Goodnight, Y/n” David mumbles, I can tell by his voice he’s already half asleep.
“Goodnight.”
I don’t fall asleep as quickly as he does. I sit there for awhile just staring at the wall trying to get tired. David is snoring at this point, completely gone. He moves around, his arm comes around my waist. It makes me halt immediately.
His snores continue, telling me that he’s still asleep. Somehow now with his body warmth as a comfort I fall asleep.
David’s POV
The sun is shining brightly on my face when I wake up. Neither Y/n or I shut the blinds last night when we went to bed. I look over and see we’re much closer now than we were when I fell asleep. My arm is wrapped around her waist, her arm on top of mine holding it there.
“Morning!” Toby yells, bursting into the room.
“Shh!” I pull my arm out to hold a finger to my lips.
“Dad made breakfast.” Toby whispers loudly.
I nod and Toby goes back downstairs, leaving the door wide open. I look over and somehow Y/n is still asleep. I get up and stretch, my mom walks by the hall and peeks her head in the room.
“Good morning.” She whispers, acknowledging that Y/n is still asleep.
“Morning.”
“So, Y/n came home with you this time?” She smirks and raises her brows inquisitively.
I look over, she’s in the same position.
“Yes.” I roll my eyes at my mom.
“She is the one you told me about all those months ago. She is sweet.” My mom remembers more than I wish she did, “She’s the one you love.”
“Shh!” I push my mom back out into the hall and pull my door shut behind me. “Mom!”
“What? She doesn’t know?” Mom is confused at this point.
I shake my head no and walk downstairs to get breakfast.
Y/n POV
David loves me?
I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but I was hoping to fall back asleep. I didn’t know I was going to overhear that David is in love with me.
I get up and throw on a pair of jeans and a sweater, I find a bathroom and brush my teeth and wash my face. I go downstairs to find that everyone has finished eating except for Toby.
“Good morning, Y/n!” Toby says loudly.
“Good morning, Toby.” I smile at him.
David gets up so he can grab a plate from the cabinet for me. He hands it to me with a smile. He seems like normal David but I’m panicking a little inside. How long has he loved me? I can’t tell a difference in how he acts. When did it start? Hearing that he loves me only reminds me of the feelings I had a while ago. I decided our friendship was worth to much to risk telling him so I buried it. Now, I have a feeling it’s resurfaces.
I grab a pancake and sit down with everyone else. We talk all morning and even play a few games as a family plus me. It’s nice to see David like this. He isn’t worried about filming or social media. He doesn’t even have his camera with him.
“Y/n?” David asks, grabbing my attention.
“Yeah?” I look up at him.
“I was wondering if you wanted to go see where my old high school was. I want to show you around my Vernon Hills.”
“Yeah, that sounds great.” I smile.
I run upstairs to grab my coat, David comes up too to grab his camera. We take the car that David got for his Dad a few months ago. He shows me where he used to play tennis, light fireworks, and his high school.
David stops the car by a park and starts to tell me a story of something that happened there.
“-yeah so that’s when I met Natalie for the first time.” He smiles, reminiscing.
“That’s so cute.” I grin.
He starts another story that has to do with this park, but I can’t focus at all on what he’s saying. All I can think about is what I overheard this morning.
“David.” I interrupt.
“What?” He looks at me with concern.
“Do you love me? Like love me love me?” I ask bluntly.
His face pales and he runs a hand through his hair.
“Shit, I thought you might be awake. Dammit Toby.”
I wait patiently for him to answer. He takes a deep breath and turns in his seat to face me.
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, Y/n, I love you. Wow that feels good to say out loud. It feels like a weight off my chest. I feel like I can-”
“Since when?” I cut off his nervous rant.
“Since I met you. On and off, but yeah.” He scratches the back of his neck.
We both sit in silence for a while.
“Please say something.” He rubs at his eyes.
“I love you too.”
David’s head snaps towards mine at breakneck speed.
“You what?” He asks in disbelief.
“I love you too, David. I have for a while. I buried it but once I was reminded of it this morning it all came rushing back.”
“Oh my god.” He grins. “Thank you, Toby.”
I continue to roll with the confidence. I reach forward and place a hand on the back of David’s neck. I pull him closer and lean in until our lips meet. It’s perfect. We both pull away to smile at each other for a second. Then we start to makeout, not wanting to ever stop kissing. I don’t want to lose this feeling. After our lips are red and swollen we pull away, resting our foreheads against each other.
“Let’s go home.”
OMG PART TWO?
510 notes · View notes
smokingtomas · 5 years
Note
I was asking for the couples that you already mentioned :)
Hi everyone! This lovely anon is actually referring to the previous ask on how our beloved ships’ children behave in school. On that note, I’m going to pick High School to fit the universe.
And can I just say that your ask is the reason why I decided to construct that whole next gen shenanigans? xD so thank you so much for being my motivation! I hope you enjoy this!
I’d love more headcanon requests to help me develop them better, if anyone’s interested ^^
Yukihira Soma - Nakiri Erina
Yukihira Jin:
Since Jin was in preschool, Erina has taught him that punctuality is important, so if he’s spotted sitting in front of the class exactly 15 minutes before class, don’t be surprised.
Besides the God Tongue, Jin was also born with his mom’s intelligence. No matter how badly he got distracted in class (Especially when Kana is sitting next to him), his right ear is secretly doing all the listening.
Polar Star Dorm member. Hangs out with the people regularly since they’re roommates, but doesn’t bother with their online shop business.
LIVES for Shokugekis. Either it is his own (which he would kill in), or people’s. Naturally curious and will absorb any new knowledge like a sponge.
Bad boy charm got all the girls (and ahem, a certain boy) to the yard, but only craves attention from the girl he’s been cooking for, though he tries not to seem aggressive to get it.
Would spot her from afar and run right next to her before saying something like, “Oh, Hayama-san! Funny how we keep running into each other. Signing up for Moon Festival too?”
Hayama Akira - Arato Hisako
Hayama Kana
Never leave home without a bag of pet treats in her bag. Kana loves going to the school garden and spend some alone time with animals she may find.
Is a founder of the brand new Vegetarian RS. Besides promoting the benefits of vegetarian and vegan food, they also grow an array of rare plants and edible flowers on their greenhouse and do research of those.
Kana always tries to stay out everybody’s narrative and hates drama, but she feels like it always has a way to find her. Also is oblivious that two most attractive guys in school are into her and doesn’t believe Sora Aldini when she tells her that.
Jin’s bad boy charm doesn’t appeal to her, thus causing her to have a hard time trusting the guy. “Oh, hello, Yukihira-kun. It’s good to see you again, but you caught me at a bad time. I’ll talk to you again soon. Sounds good?”
Thought Julius hates her because even though she smiles at him from time to time, he refuses to meet her in the eye, let alone sitting next to her in class when it’s the only one that’s vacant.
Takumi Aldini - Tadokoro Megumi
Julius Aldini:
Jin’s brother from another mother, advisor, and sparring partner to see each other on top. Sometimes Julius considers Jin more of his sibling than Marco, his own twin brother.
Knows about Jin’s crush on Kana, which is also his’, but doesn’t let him know and let him do his thing. Jin even thinks he’s the gay twin since he never talks about the girl he likes.
When not cooking, Julius can be found at the library. Loves to read anything whether it’s fiction or nonfiction. Joined a Totsuki Book Club.
Girls go crazy that one day he pulled up his hair into a half man bun, he didn’t know what the fuss was all about since it was just Marco wanting to do his hair. Awkwardly agreed every time a girl wants a selfie.
Regularly plays tennis with Marco to stay in shape. Julius is the better tennis player and Marco is not having it.
Marco Aldini:
Since he was born as an overachiever, he really cares about his grades, his cooking skill, and Italian Cuisine RS he’s leading.
Still in the closet, but it’s pretty obvious to people with strong senses though.
Wears sunglasses outdoor. Wears sunglasses indoor. Wears sunglasses when he reads. Wears it in the shower. Takes it off when he cooks. If people stares, has that deal-with-it attitude.
“JuSt wAtCh YoUR BaCK yUkIhIrA!! I aM CoMiNg fOr YoU!!!” *fades into the distance*
Nakiri Alicia’s BFF. One of the people he can comfortably be himself with. They call each other ‘bitch’, goes shopping together, and gives fashion advice for each other (but still won’t confess his attraction to her hot cousin Jin).
Valeria Aldini:
The youngest member of Polar Star Dorm.
Her way of thinking is straightforward and simple. Good at public speaking. That’s why every single one of her friends wants her in a group project.
Have tried every local and international fast food places in town (yes, she spends her allowance on it). Valeria likes to analyze everything that’s right and wrong with the food which drives her to her goal: to make the best burger ever.
Once punched Yukihira Jin’s nose for trying to trick her into eating his ‘creation’. “If you think I’m eating that shit because I’m Jul’s sister, you are seriously messing with the wrong girl, pal.”
Claims that Julius is her favorite brother, but her attitude is mostly influenced by Marco’s mouth.
Nakiri Alice - Kurokiba Ryo
Nakiri Alicia:
Being the queen bee of Totsuki herself, Alicia has two loyal minions who follow her everywhere… except when she tells them not to.
Walks the hallway like she owns the school (well, her family technically does). The girl knows she’s hot. One hair flip (inspired by Aunty Erina) is all it takes to get her the attention.
Molecular gastronomy princess, social media queen, part-time model. A portion of it could be caused by Alice who had started to expose her to that world by creating a baby Instagram account @babyalicia, which she still uses to this day (the username is now @queenalicia).
“I’ll show you a good time.” Is her line before starting a Shokugeki while putting on her goggles.
May look like your typical self-centered brat, but actually cares a lot for her sister, Athena. Every time she goes shopping, she would buy Athena clothes or accessories that would suit her (plus, she knows her taste and size).
Kurokiba Athena:
Like Alicia, Alice also made her a baby Instagram account @babyathena, but as she grew up, she realized social media isn’t her thing, so she’s no longer using it (but did change the username to @kurokibathena17).
Compared to her big sister, there’s not much social life going on at school for her. If not hanging out with Ibusaki Abel or Alicia, she prefers sitting under the tree with her headphones on, blasting Iron Maiden out.
Sometimes catching herself stalking her self-appointed rival, Kana. Athena knows when she’s been experimenting, and she tries to be one step ahead of her with charcoal as her weapon.
In that iconic, 6-hour long Shokugeki between Athena and Kana, she won it after a hard fought battle on a ramen challenge with her wildcard that surprised everyone– seafood.
When she’s not cooking, she’s drawing, and quite well too. The rose bouquet neck tattoo Alicia has is her design.
Tsukasa Eishi - Kobayashi Rindou
Tsukasa Oda:
Being one of the Elite Ten members, Oda gets instant attention everywhere he goes without even trying, and he’s not sure if he’s into it.
Once modeled for Swatch alongside Alicia, and when their pictures were on Totsuki magazine that caused people to go frenzy that day, unlike Alicia who’s loving it, Oda chose not to attend school for 3 days.
Since he’s linked with Kuga and has considered him his mentor, he is an honorary member of Chinese Cuisine RS.
When Moon Festival comes, he always books one stall to showcase his pretty dim sum and his creative talent by doing a demonstration in front of everyone (Rindou’s suggestion as a part of his risk-taking challenge).
39 notes · View notes
proxylynn · 5 years
Text
Underfell: File Name not Edgy Enough #20
WARNING: I WANT NO RESPONSIBILITY OVER SPOILING THINGS FOR OTHERS. THAT BEING SAID, THIS IS HOW FILE NAME NOT FOUND WOULD FUNCTION IN THE AU OF UNDERFELL. BEFORE YOU READ THIS, UNLIKE THE NICE TIME OF UNDERTALE, THIS WORLD IS KILL OR BE KILLED. THIS STORY WILL BE GRAPHIC, GORY, USE SWEARS LIKE NOBODY'S BUSINESS, AND DEAL WITH SENSITIVE SUBJECT MATTERS. FOR EXAMPLE, THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE READ THE FILE NAME RELOCATED SPOOF WILL KNOW HOW I PICTURE THIS VERSION OF LYNSIE COMING TO THE UNDERGROUND. IT IS NOT AN ACCIDENT. IT IS NOT BECAUSE OF SOMETHING DUMB. IT IS BECAUSE SHE CHOOSES TO END HER LIFE. SO TAKE THIS WITH A GRAIN OF SALT. I MADE IT BECAUSE I NEEDED TO LET SOME OF THIS EDGINESS OUT OF MYSELF. WHICH I GUESS MAKES UNDERFELL LYNSIE EVEN MORE TRUE TO WHO I REALLY AM. ANYWAY, ENJOY. ^_^
This day started off sour and it continued to feel weirder as the time dragged on. Sans stared off into space, a strong sense of boredom and slight unknown thing weighed heavily on his mind. A small nagging feeling in the back of his skull. That sense of "did I leave the oven on" type thing. But he couldn't think of what it could be. Other than that, the boredom was draining. The magazines he stashed under his station that normally were entertaining now held very little interest. Hell, he didn't even feel like eating one of his decked out hot dogs. Something was wrong. He just didn't know what it was.
Maybe...Maybe doing something a little monotonous would make some part of this day feel normal. So after making sure the coast is clear of the order-barking Papyrus, Sans vacates his post and heads for the door that exits the Ruins. It's possible that the old goat woman will join in if he catches her there. But mostly he was hoping to just be able to knock alone. So once he planted his caboose in the snow and leaned his back to the monolithic doors, Sans took a long breath before tapping his knuckles upon the stone.
[Knock knock]
He pauses to listen if there's any response to come from the other side. When none came he sighed with relief and began with the first thing that came to mind. Though it now meant that the receiver of the jokes had to be internally.
Who's there?
"some."
Some who?
"some asshole telling knock-knock jokes."
He chuckles to himself and knocks again
Who's there?
"go fuck yourself, i don't need to tell you shit."
He seemed to be in a rather agitated mood and his jokes expressed it well. But agitation is only the beginning. For soon...they begin to darken.
"a man walks into a library and asks for a book on how to commit suicide. the librarian tells the man to go jump off a cliff because he'd never return the book."
He snickers.
"why do orphans like playing tennis? because that's the only love they can get."
Not to mention some jokes are just in poor taste.
"a woman delivers a baby. the doctor takes the baby and throws it. smashing it around the hospital room, drop-kicking it, etc. the mother starts freaking out, being held back by nurses, and begging 'why!?'. the doctor holds the baby upside down by the ankle and says 'i am just fucking with you, it was born dead'."
He really had to be careful when telling dead baby jokes. Toriel heard part of one once and her rage induced flames managed to seep their way out the cracks.
"after a long painful labor, a doctor approaches the new mother and says 'ma'am, i've got some good news and some bad news. what would you like to hear first?'. after thinking it over she responds 'i will have the bad news first doctor'. the doctor replies 'well, i am not sure how to put this, but i am sorry to tell you, your child is dead'. a little puzzled, the woman responds with 'doctor, if that is the bad news, what is the good news?'. the doctor replies simply 'i was not ready to be a dad anyway'."
He laughs at the dark humor but his laughter his hollow. Something just isn't right. Nothing was lifting his spirits or making this feel any more normal. Damn it, why couldn't he get this nagging feeling to go away?! Why can't things just go back to the way they were? Before any of this stupid crap. Before...
"Sans? Is that you?"
Her voice nearly spooked him yet part of him was relieved. This part is somewhat normal except for her worried voice.
"yeah. it's me. you okay?"
"My daughter...Please tell me she is okay."
Daughter...? Oh, fuck! The human! They forgot about the human! Shit! Quick! Think of a cover story!
"*nervous* the kid? s-she's fine. why do ya ask?"
"We spoke not too long ago. She told me of a great many things. Things you have not told me of."
Sans began to sweat.
"w-what kind of things?"
"Sans...You would tell me if something was truly wrong, would you not?"
Keep it together man. Just be cool. It's not like she knows about any of the sinful things you regret.
"tori, you're the first person i'd come to if something was wrong with her."
"How long?"
"how long what?"
"How long has she been going through her maturity state?"
God dang it, human! Why'd you tell her that? Who's he kidding. Of course, she'd tell her. It's her mom.
"not long. a few days at the most."
"And this...This has not caused an issue with the Black Soul, has it?"
"no. that thing hasn't been triggered by it at all so far."
"Good. ...That is very good."
"are you sure you're okay, tori?"
There's a pause that has him concerned.
"tori?"
"Am I a good mother?"
Where the fuck did that come from?!
"huh?"
"All of my children...I try to be a good mother and do what is best for them...and in the end, they all leave me in some way or another."
"you can't say dumb shit like that. what happened to the princes wasn't your fault."
"Then what of the seven that fell after? They all left me too...only to die and their souls collected."
"they knew the risks. you warned them that the outside was cruel and they chose to go anyway. you can't help it if they didn't want to listen."
"And Lynsie? She has yet to return to me as she said she would."
"to be fair...it's not like we're giving her that chance."
"But you let her be in a bar? Why let her be there and not let her come home?"
She had him by his nonexistent balls there.
"she's kept watched over there. we can't skip work to be her babysitter."
"Then let her come home!"
"it's not that simple."
"Yes, it is!"
"no, it's not!"
This was the first time he'd ever raised his voice to Toriel.
"do you think i like risking my neck for a human? after what they did to us? what they stole from us? all the lives lost and the years spent in this underground prison. and now...now i'm stuck with one in my own house and i'm supposed to act like it's normal? well, it ain't fucking normal!"
"She is not like those other humans. You know this."
"that's not the point! the damn town knows we have a human. they just don't know it's her. if word got out, then undyne wouldn't rest till she found her and killed the traitors that hid the human all this time."
"Sans..."
"i only agreed to this promise because you threatened to kill yourself. if i could bring her back here, i would so then i wouldn't have to put up with her anymore. but i can't. pap would know i let her go and he'd never forgive me for it. i can live with a lot of things. but my brother's disappointment? i can't live with that, tori."
She goes quiet.
"be thankful you get the phone calls. not everyone has the chance to speak with someone they care for."
"...You lost someone important in the war, did you not?"
Sans felt his soul tighten harshly.
"i have to get back to work."
He stands up and dusts the snow off himself.
"Sans, wait!"
He should've said nothing and walked away.
"what?"
"Tell her...That I am not mad. That I am sorry. And that I hope she can forgive this foolish old woman. Can you do me this last request, my friend?"
He didn't like how that sounded.
"oh no. do not say that. you do not get to pull this crap on me. you will not guilt me like this!"
"I have troubled you enough."
He hits the door.
"take it back! you take it back right now!"
There is no reply and he pounds on the door like a mad man.
"tori! tori, open this god damn door! i swear i will...!"
"SANS!"
Papyrus came running in controlled alarm.
"SANS! THE HUMAN!"
"kinda in the middle of something more important here, bro. tori, don't you dare do anything stupid or so help me i'll...!"
Papyrus clutches his brother's head in his palm.
"NEVER DISREGARD ME AGAIN."
"sure, fine, whatever. now, what do you want?"
Papyrus glares at this disrespect but lets it slide this once since the Queen is involved.
"WE FORGOT THE HUMAN WAS LEFT UNATTENDED."
"and...?"
"I WENT BACK TO CHECK ON HER AND SHE IS NOT THERE."
That got Sans's attention.
"what?"
"HER AND THE FLOWER ARE NO LONGER IN OUR HOME."
"and she's not a grillby's?"
"I CHECKED. HE SEEMED TO KNOW NOTHING BUT IT FELT LIKE HE KNEW MORE THAN WHAT HE TOLD ME."
"shit, this isn't good."
"I AM HEADING TO WATERFALL. SHE COULDN'T HAVE GOTTEN FAR."
Waterfall...? Oh yeah!
"wait, pap, i'll go."
That had Papyrus eye his brother curiously.
"YOU? WHY?"
"well, for one, you kinda stand out. if she or anyone else saw you, it would tip them off to something being up. but me? hell, no one gives a rat's ass what i do."
"THAT IS TRUE."
"and two...i know where she's going."
"YOU WHAT?!"
Before the skeleton has a chance to respond a strange sound grabbed their attention. A sound neither has ever heard but knew what it was. The eerie rumbling of heavy stone that lets escape a massive plume of heat that melts the surrounding snow within five meters. Dread consumes their bones. Even the great and terrible Papyrus quacked in fear at the smoldering red eyes leering in the darkness beyond the door.
"Am I hearing that correctly? You have lost my daughter?"
"oh..."
"SHIT."
[Meanwhile: Hotland's Laboratory]
"Holy crap!"
Alphys had been keeping tabs on Sans this day. As she had been doing ever since she pinned him down with the knowledge of the human. The low ranking skeleton that once was her superior never failed to reveal more things that piqued her interest, this day is no different. Though she had to admit she did not expect the dialog heard, the news of the human's lack of whereabouts, or the emergence of the Queen from the Ruins. This level of drama was on par with some of her all-time favorite animes. But still...perhaps the script of this show could use just a bit more development.
"Mettaton! Get your ass in here!"
The robot responds from deep beneath the building, returning from a secret elevator hidden in plain sight and lugging empty bags of pet food.
"YOU KNOW, I'M BEGINNING TO THINK THEY'RE STARTING TO FORM THEIR OWN PERSONALITIES. THAT SNOW BIRD KEEPS MUTTERING A NAME FROM ITS PAST. ARE YOU CERTAIN THEY'RE MINDLESS ABOMINATIONS?"
"I'm sorry, are you the scientist around here with years of study? No? Then shut up about them and get over here. I think you'll find this interesting."
The sneaky smirk curling the corners of the lizard's lips gave him warnings of unpleasantness. But he could not disobey and wheeled over to her side.
"SPYING ON THE SKELETON AGAIN? AND YOU THINK MY HUMAN HOBBY IS WEIRD."
Now seeing the enhanced screen, Mettaton looked on in confusion as the doors to the Ruins parted and a very furriest looking female version of Asgore stepped out much to the horror of the two skeletons that began to back away slowly while pleading.
"IS THAT...?"
"Yep. Queen Toriel Dreemurr. This is the first time she's set foot outside since she banished herself years ago."
"BUT...WHY IS SHE OUTSIDE? SHE NEVER LEAVES THE RUINS, RIGHT? WHAT'S GOT HER SO UPSET?"
Alphys grins wickedly.
"See those two? They've been watching over the human for her."
"I KNOW THAT."
"Well...They've just let it slip that they don't know where the human is. Now, what do you suppose that means?"
The screen of the robot began to flicker about in a light show of questionable display.
"OH DEAR. SUCH A TRAGEDY. A POOR LOST SOUL OUT SOMEWHERE IN THIS HARSH WORLD. IT WOULD BE SUCH A SHAME IF SOMETHING WERE TO HAPPEN TO THEM."
The dark insinuation in his digital voice was the seed the manipulative lizard was hoping to plant.
"I give you permission to retrieve the human. Though if they get to it before you, do not engage."
"UNDERSTOOD. AND MY SHOWS?"
"I'll remix some older clips. No one will know the difference."
A slightly distorted laugh escapes the robot and it wheels away all too innocently.
"POOR UNFORTUNATE SOUL, HAVE NO FEAR. YOUR KNIGHT IS COMING, MY DEAR."
Alphys couldn't help the enjoyment this was bringing her. She honestly considered letting Undyne in on this action but that might turn this party into a slaughterhouse and she'd rather not have this end so soon. Now all she had to do was watch this show that she has orchestrated. Still, she hated that there was only one camera in Waterfall. She really needed to put in more cameras around the underground.
[Meanwhile: downstream on the river to Waterfall]
The water is calm and the temperature is mellowing out. The land begins to transition from ice to marsh. The air has a scent I haven't smelled in a long time. The faint smell of flowers and wet grass. This place, colored in purples and blues. Mushrooms, Typha, and shimmering crystals decorate the land sporadically but make it so...enchanting. With all the hate and death that seems to be bread in this underground world, it's amazing to me that there is such beauty that appears untainted by darkness.
"Do not be taken in by what you see, little one."
The Riverperson speaks after a long as hell time of silence.
"Pretty faces hide the ugliest intentions...Tra la la."
"Then by that logic, the more grotesque the thing looks the less wicked its motives. Heh...Ugly Fish must be a saint."
It turns to look at me and I shrug my shoulders.
"What? I'm just messing with you. I understood your warning. Don't judge things by how they look. I'm not retarded."
It looks away from me again.
"You should take things more seriously. Wild waters will soon come."
I get that is giving me these cryptic warnings for a reason. But the condescending tone pisses me off.
"Good thing I know how to swim."
The boat dips into the water sharply and rocks harshly as it stabilizes. The Riverperson doesn't move out of place in the slightest, almost as if it flowed with the motions like it wasn't even moving. I myself take the turbulence with some ease, used to moving with the motions in a speeding car, but I do grip the sides when the back end is flung up in its return to stability. The hooded fairer of this vessel looks back again over its shoulder.
"It doesn't help to swim if you can't keep breathing. Do not drown in the black deep. Or you will never come back."
Well, that hit more of the ominous nail on the head.
"Tra la la. Eat a mushroom every day."
"Why?"
The boat approaches a simple open area much like that in Snowdin and it once more looks away from me.
"Why? Then I know you're listening to me...Tra la la."
I want to take this thing seriously but when it does shit like that it makes it really hard not to call it out on such bull shit.
"No sweat there. I like mushrooms."
When the boat docks, I carefully stand up and step once more on top solid ground.
"I hope it's not too much trouble to ask this, but how long do you tend to dock here?"
"I come when I am needed."
"Great. We'll get to chat more later. I'll be needing a ride back to Snowdin."
"Then perhaps another time. Or perhaps not. It doesn't really matter."
With that, the boat returns to the rivers current and leaves me snickering to myself.
"Geez, what a weirdo."
Flowey pokes out of the backpack.
"What was all that stuff you both were on about?"
I wave dismissively.
"Sorry bro, but that's a whole dumpster load of junk I'm not diving into right now. Maybe later."
"*huff* Fine. Let's just find that ghost's house and get home before we run into any more nut jobs."
"I'd say eccentric but to each their own."
I walk up the way to meet a fork in this path. A road to my left, a road to my right, and a cave in front of me with a very familiar item holding box sitting on the ground.
"Wow. It's been forever since we've seen one of those."
"I can't read the inscriptions above the cave. Can you?"
"Um...I think it says something about a 'shop' being inside. That or something about cheese. I'm a little rusty on my ability to read old monster glyphs."
"...Why would you even know that, Flowey?"
"Eh, you learn weird stuff when you're bored."
"True that. Should we...?"
"You're going to anyway. But thanks for asking."
"You know me so well."
A slight detour it sure, but the last shop I was in had human gear and maybe this one does too. With all the warning I keep getting and the lack of training on my end, my stats need the extra boost. Stepping inside we find the cave to be a bit of a decent size and lit by torches. In the back, there's a stack of crates and a monster facing the end of the cavern while munching on something.
"Hello?"
The monster turns around and it is not what I was expecting. An elderly looking olive green tortoise-monster wearing black archaeologist attire, with the pointed beard of a wise man, a large magnifying glass sticks out of, and matching pith helmet. His teeth are crooked and yellow, his shell is a dark brown in color with a pale cream rim. He also has a scar over his right eye and seems unable to open it. And that thing he's eating looks like an apple but also looks like a crab. Very confusing really.
"Wa ha ha...So someone actually came here? What a treat!"
His gruff voice makes it hard to tell if he's happy to see me or pissed off.
"You look a little frazzled, youngster. Then again, I suppose that's appropriate for a human in these parts."
My eyes widen and he chuckles.
"Surprised I know what you are, huh?"
I rub the back of my head.
"Just a bit. Not many monsters really know my little secret. Probably helps that they don't ask either."
"That's not shockin'. Today's generation doesn't bother to learn anythin' about it's past. It's also probably the same reason you can walk around with the symbol of the royal family on your blouse."
I look at my shirt.
"I was told it was the emblem for monster kind."
The old man works a laugh in as he finishes his strange fruit.
"Maybe they are teachin' you youngsters somethin' in school. Have a gander at this..."
He points to the back wall and only now do I notice the large carving of the same symbol in the stone.
"That's the Delta Rune. The emblem of our kingdom. The Kingdom of Monsters. That emblem actually predates written history. The original meaning has been lost to time...All we know is that the triangles symbolize us monsters below, and the winged circle above symbolizes...Somethin' else. Most people say it's the 'angel' from the prophecy..."
Hearing that word triggers the warning the Riverperson spoke of.
"I'm sorry, but, what is this prophecy?
He removes his hat and rubs his scalp a bit before putting it back on.
"The prophecy? Oh yeah...Legend has it, an 'angel' who has seen the surface will descend from above and bring us freedom. Lately, people have been takin' a bleaker outlook...Callin' that circle the 'Angel of Death'. A harbinger of destruction, waitin' to 'free' us from this mortal realm."
I really don't like the sound of that.
"In my opinion, when I see that little circle...I jus' think it looks neat! Wahaha!"
The humor is lost on me. I'm too worried about what this has to do with what the Riverperson said. The angel is coming, it said. The prophecy says 'someone who has seen the surface will descend from above', and that sounds a lot like me. I don't want to be this Angel of Death. I don't want to free them with murder. The old man notices my sulking.
"You look upset. Not a fan of the idea of us monsters goin' free?"
I shake my head.
"No...I was just thinking that your prophecy sounded really sad."
That takes him by surprise.
"You're not like most humans I've had the displeasure to meet. To be honest, if it weren't for the law that prevents fights from happenin' in shops, I would've killed you the second I saw you."
A bit harsh, but I'm used to it at this point.
"But...these old bones aren't fit for fightin' anyhoo. Haven't been for a long time."
"I know you..."
Flowey chimes in and gets our attention.
"Yeah! You're Gerson, the Hammer of Punishment. You lead the army during the war and were the adviser to the King."
The old man smirks.
"Wa ha ha...Maybe there's hope for this generation after all."
"You were in the war? That was ages ago. How are you still alive?"
"Knowledge is the only reason I've survived so long, human. It's how anythin' stays alive if you think about it. But you didn't come here to listen to the ramblin's of an ol' man."
I roll my shoulders.
"No, not really. But I will admit, I don't mind if you do. You sound like you have a lot of interesting things to say. It'd be a shame not to listen while I'm able to."
The old man gives pause before moving one of the crates and popping the lid off.
"I don't have much in the way of goods. But if you're lookin' to buy, then have a look."
"Thank you."
"And don't expect a discount just because you're bein' nice. I still need to make a livin'."
"Understood, sir."
I move closer to look into the crate. Inside are only four objects. That strange fruit, a salty smelling bottle of tea, a notebook that has seen better days, and a pair of glasses that are scratched all to hell.
"I know those don't look like much, but they are far from done bein' used."
"Might I ask, are they from a human that is no longer with us?"
He merely nods.
"How much?"
"30G for the glasses and 55G for the notebook."
I cringe.
"Damn...Why so pricey for damaged goods?"
"They're one of a kind human collectibles. You can't get them anywhere else."
"Still...You sure you can't knock that number a bit lower?"
"*huff* How much do you have?"
I dig around in my pockets and backpack, only managing to scrounge up about 60G.
"Only that much, huh? Then you can have one or the other."
"Are you sure there's no way I can get both?"
He plays with his beard in thought.
"Hmmm...I suppose I can be open to a trade. What are you willin' to part with?"
"I didn't fall down here with much. All I have really is some bagged lunches."
His good eye cocks its brow.
"Anything without meat?"
I look at Flowey and he ducks inside the bag.
"Um...I see a cheese sandwich with lettuce and tomato. Will that work?"
I look at the old man and he ponders this for a moment.
"Hmmm...Fine. At least it's somethin' different. I've been stuck with these Crab Apples for way too long."
Crab...Apples? I am both curious to taste it and disgusted by how such a thing could be made.
"Deal."
We make the trade, my gold and food for the two items.
"Thank you for your patronage, youngster."
"Thank you for the hospitality and goods. I'll be sure to stop by again...so long as this doesn't reach the Royal Guard."
He chuckles.
"Aye, you needn't worry about me tellin' anyone you were here. You seem alright...for a human. As long as you don't cause any trouble I won't meddle in your business."
"I thank you kindly, sir. Have a good day."
He waves me off as I head back out of the cave.
"Good luck out there...You'll need it."
"Oh! Real quick question...Which way to where the ghosts live?"
"Out and to the right."
"Thanks again."
I leave the cave and look at my purchases.
"How are you suppose to equip those?"
"Good question. The glasses are the easy one. But the notebook...No clue there."
The glass lenses are way too damaged to see through, so I merely hang them from my shirt's collar till I can find a way to repair them.
[You equipped the Ruined Glasses.]
[Glasses that have seen better days.]
[You gain 6 Defense and increase Invulnerability by 9.]
"Ha. I see what it did there."
"Please don't pun."
"Fine. But this makes me wonder..."
I take the notebook and flip through it a little.
[Contains illegible entries.]
"Huh. What were they writing about?"
I carefully roll the notebook and place it in the pocket along my lower leg.
[You equipped the Mystery Notebook.]
[You gain 2 Attack and increase Invulnerability by 6.]
"And that brings us up to...?"
[CHECK selected.]
[HP 36, ATK 33, and DEF 27]
"Almost have even stats. Damn you DEF, why you so slow to catch up?"
"I bey your INV is about the same."
"Goes to show that much like a video game, the best stats in life are the harder ones to improve."
I sigh before grinning with a hero pose.
"Fear not, my botanical brother. For our quest is nearly at its end and we have procured, all be it silly, armor that shall, somehow, protect us on our perilous journey."
Flowey bops his face with a leaf.
"You are arguably the biggest dork in the entire Underground."
"You know you love it. Now let us away, my bro. Tally ho!"
I prance us to where we were instructed to go and end up in a very open area that can go many ways. From where I stand there is a path to my left, the main road ahead of me, and three paths to my right. This would be incredibly confusing if not for the random sign by one of the paths on the right.
[North: Blook Acres, East: Hotland, ?: Temmie Village]
"So it's North? Which way is that?"
"I think from the sign. So Hotland would be where we were coming from and Blook Acres is up here."
"Okay...But which one?"
"I'm picking the one closest to the sign. Makes the most sense."
Flowey shrugs and we head into this new area that turns out to be as big as it is...odd. It looks to be a corral on one end and a small race track on the other, both seem to have not been used in quite some time. In the corral is a vast amount of snail shells and heavy paw prints leading a trail of suspicion. My gut feeling is someone stole the snails, maybe even ate them. The footprints resemble Toriel's and the snail habit fits her too, but I know this isn't her doing. My only guess based on such data would be that this is the work of Asgore or some other goat monster. Wait...Why do goat monsters have paws? Shouldn't they have hooves? I feel like I've asked that before. Oh well, Monster DNA/evolution can be just as weird as human's, I mean, we came from apes. Since the only other way is to the left, I move over there to find two near identical large houses, only different in color, one dark grey and one dull red.
"Which do you think is his?"
"I say the grey one."
"Why?"
"There's a light under the door."
"Oh."
The other house was probably Mettaton's before he left. I go to the grey house and knock on the door.
[Knock knock]
"piss off! can't you see? we're closed forever!"
"Shame. And after I came all this way just to see you."
There's a bit of a scuffle, a small bit of swearing and things clattering as he rushes to the door. It's cute. The door opens and the ghost is very shocked to see me.
"you actually came?"
"Sorry, I'm late. I would've called but this was more of a surprise type thing even on my end. My I...?"
I elude to him letting me inside and he backs up a bit.
"Thank you, Blooky. Hope I'm not bothering you in the middle of something."
"n-no. nothing important or anything."
He lets me in his home and shuts the door before locking it. You'd think a ghost wouldn't need much, but Napstablook has a fairly decent setup for his home all be it for its slightly disheveled condition. The dull yellow walls are cracking in places and the wooden floor reminds me of the skeleton brothers shed in its condition. His home possesses a fridge, a television, a spiderweb with a torn flyer for a spider bake sale, a computer open to some music-sharing forum with a window blocked behind it all, some boxes, and three CDs, labeled "Ghouliday", "Spookwave", and "Spooktune".
"sorry, it's not much, but make yourself at home."
"Nah, dude, this is fine. So...Closed forever?"
"oh, that...um...it's kind of, or was, a family tradition of running a snail farm. people would come in and pet them. you could even race them for a cash prize."
"Race...Snails?"
"they're faster than you'd think. but...slowly...everyone left to do their own thing. for a while, it was just me and my cousin. then even he left. now it's just me. so i shut it down. I couldn't do it anymore anyway. the business was tanking, so it's not like I could afford to hire anyone to help, let alone resupply my snails because some weirdo kept taking them. eventually, the business died with the last snail."
Mettaton's leaving really did more to this poor guy then he knows.
"Blooky..."
"don't. don't feel bad for me. I don't want your pity."
"It's not pity. It's sympathy. Don't confuse the two. I'd never think of insulting you like that."
He looks off to the side as I sit on the floor and take off the backpack to let Flowey out.
"oh...you brought him along?"
Flowey sneers.
"Gee, happy to see you too."
"Boys, don't fight. Being a snarky bitch is woman's work."
I dig for my iPod in the bag.
"Yo, Blook-man. Ever find that charger? My tunes are about to flat line."
He floats over to the boxes and rummages around.
"what's the brand?"
"Apple. White cord usually."
I locate my player just as he pulls out a long white cord that he then plugs into his computer and I slide the iPod across the floor to him for charging.
"this shouldn't take long."
"No rush."
"No rush? What do you mean no rush? I thought you said we'd get caught if we stayed here too long? Or are you going off script again?"
This gets our host's attention.
"wait...did you...you snuck off, didn't you?"
I shrug.
"Maybe."
"you said you weren't going to do anything stupid if I told you about the boat."
"I didn't do anything stupid. I have to get caught first. Then I'm proven stupid."
Flowey groans and Napstablook shakes his head. But me? I lay flat on the floor.
"Will you both relax? None of you are the ones that have to worry about being killed. So quit being pissy and chill. Please?"
I know I'm messing up. I don't need them to tell me that. All their nagging will end up doing is stressing me out and that will make me fuck up when I really need to concentrate. I just pray nothing too insane happens today. I can handle lots of crazy shit, but sometimes I can be overloaded. And if or when that happens, I fear it will trigger the Black Soul. For now, at least, my plan is to remain as calm as can be.
And that's how things are for some time. Napstablook downloads my extensive music collection to add to his vast library of songs. He plans to go over all of it and mix whatever he thinks is decent. Flowey listens to some of his sample mixes, though by the creepy faces he's making, I don't think he likes it. I, for the most part, take part in the ghost tradition of laying on the floor and zoning out into the infinity of the cosmos, aka, stare into the ceiling until you start to see shit that isn't there. Surprisingly, Napstablook does offer us some food, mainly ghost sandwiches. Not surprisingly, the magic made meal phases right through us. Napstablook finds the moment funny. Right now I'm just dead inside. I've let all thought leave me and this never felt sense of 'everything is just okay' comes to me. It's weird. This feeling of peace that's only now been found in absolute stillness. Why am I only feeling this now when I've done this before for years? I guess can't complain. Better to know the feeling than to not at all.
[RING-RING]
Of course, a phone call would interrupt my mental accession to self-contentment. Fuck it. Not today.
[RING-RING]
"Aren't you going to answer that?"
"No. I'm not here."
[RING-RING]
"so you're just going to let it ring?"
"If I do anything they'll know that I had the phone and intentionally shut it off."
[RING-RING]
"What if it's Mom? Ignoring her won't end well."
"he has a point. you should at least check if it's her. don't ignore family."
You don't know my family.
[RING-RING]
"Fine. But only because the sound is annoying the hell out of me."
I retrieve the phone from my pocket and frown...Unknown caller.
"Your cousin is calling me again."
[RING-RING]
This confuses Flowey but has Blooky dropping his computer's mouse with wide eyes.
"h-he is? h-how do y-you...?"
"He's the only other person that knows my phone number and shows up as Unknown."
He floats over to me.
[RING-RING]
"are y-you...are you going to answer it?"
I stare at him.
"Do you want me to answer it?"
[RING-RING]
So many emotions cross his face.
"do it."
"Are you sure?"
"just don't mention me. I want to hear him. hear how much better he is since he's broke his promise."
I sit up and answer the call.
"Hello. You have reached an unknown number. Please leave a message after the beep. *fake beep*"
"VERY FUNNY, DARLING. AND QUITE TALENTED TOO. IT WAS VERY CONVINCING."
"To what do I owe this random call, Mettaton?"
"You're on the phone with Mettaton?!"
Flowey blurts out and the two of us glare to keep him quiet.
"OH, NOW WHO WAS THAT? AN ADORING FAN? OR ARE YOU SEEING SOMEONE BEHIND MY BACK?"
"What did I say about being weird. That's my brother."
"*GAPS* THERE ARE TWO HUMANS IN THE UNDERGROUND?"
"No. You're still stuck with just me."
"SHAME. IF THERE WAS TWO OF YOU, THEN I'D BE ABLE TO KEEP YOU WITH NO STRINGS ATTACHED."
"You're doing it again. That's the kind of stuff that keeps me from wanting to go near Hotland."
"WELL, GOOD NEWS! YOU WON'T HAVE TO COME TO HOTLAND."
This gets to me.
"Why do you say that?"
"IT'S A SURPRISE. SO...WHERE ARE YOU RIGHT NOW?"
Warning! Red alert! Danger!
"I'm in Snowdin."
This gets even my companions' attention.
"AH, DARLING, DIDN'T ANYONE EVER TEACH YOU THAT IT'S WRONG TO LIE?"
"I'm not lying."
"BUT I KNOW YOU ARE."
"Oh yeah right. You're just messing with me like everyone else does."
"THEY KNOW YOU'RE NOT IN THEIR HOME. YOUR MOTHER KNOWS AS WELL."
[You felt your sins crawling on your back.]
I sense death in my future, or something very close to it, and my body trembles.
"You're bluffing."
"REMEMBER HOW I TOLD YOU THAT THERE WERE CAMERAS IN THE FOREST? WELL, THEY CAUGHT SUCH SIGHTS AND EVERYONE KNOWS THAT CAMERAS DON'T LIE, DEAR. SHE IS QUITE UPSET. SO MUCH SO THAT SHE'S ACTUALLY LEFT THE RUINS."
The amount of dread welling up inside my gut has me wanting to vomit.
"I CAN'T IMAGINE SHE'S IN A PLEASANT MOOD. ONLY THE RETURN OF HER DEAR CHILD SHALL QUELL THE FLAMES OF RAGE SHE IS CURRENTLY SCORCHING THE LAND WITH. WOULDN'T YOU AGREE?"
I can't make a sound. Speech is lost to me.
"I WILL TAKE YOU TO HER. ALL THIS CAN BE FIXED. I JUST NEED TO KNOW WHERE YOU ARE. I WILL COME STRAIGHT TO YOUR CURRENT LOCATION AND WHISK YOU AWAY."
Problem. It is entirely possible that Mettaton is telling the truth based on the things he has said. How would he know any of that if it were all a lie? However, he still sounds calm as though this isn't a major issue. Which leads me to think that the moment I tell him where I'm at, he'll just scoop me up for himself and be damned anyone else that gets fucked over in the crossfire. This is bad. Very very bad.
"WELL, DARLING? SAY THE WORD AND I'LL BE THERE TO SAVE THE DAY."
I look at my friends, needing guidance like never before. Flowey is all for telling Mettaton if it means we'd get home. Yet Napstablook is against telling as he doesn't trust his cousin anymore. This split doesn't help me in the slightest.
"I...I..."
[Bang-bang-bang-bang]
The door is suddenly bombarded with activity and I drop the phone from being startled.
"*soft* DARLING? YOU OKAY?"
"open this door! i know she's in there!"
It takes my brain a bit to reboot before I remember Sans's voice or that he knew about my coming here.
"Shit."
"I knew it! I knew that Smiley Trashbag would track us down."
"Get in the pack, bro."
Flowey does as asked and reclaim my iPod as Napstablook goes to the door.
"the hell do you want?"
"don't play games with me, ghost. i know she's in there. open the door."
"and why should I do that?"
"because i need her to stop toriel!"
[You felt your sins weighing on your neck.]
He was telling the truth. Toriel is rampaging and so much shit is hitting the proverbial fan.
"Let him in."
Napstablook doesn't need to be told twice and opens the door, causing Sans who was about to ram the door to tumble onto the floor.
"for fuck's sake..."
The understandably grumpy skeleton picks himself up with a rough huff.
"do you have any idea what is happening right now thanks to this little field trip you're taking?"
"I was coming back."
"that ain't the point! you left without telling us."
"So did the two of you, but you don't see me bitching about it."
"we went to work! we have jobs! you know that!"
"And you knew my reason for leaving the Ruins was to come here. Now that this task has been done, I'm going home. I'm sick of being your brother's punching bag anyway."
"*soft* I'M SORRY..."
Oh right...The phone is still on with Mettaton.
"*soft* BUT DID I JUST HEAR THAT SOMEONE IS LAYING THEIR NASTY HANDS ON MY HUMAN?"
Sans takes my phone before I can get it.
"who are you talking to? do they know that you're...? you know."
I palm my face.
"It's Mettaton. He called me again. And you know that he knows what I am."
That's when a look comes to Sans that I'm unsure of. One I've seen around Grillby but still don't know what it is. But he gets that look as he brings the phone to his head.
"the fuck do you want, tin can?"
If only I could hear it. For some reason, Mettaton is rather quiet when not on TV even though his energy is still that of a loud person.
"look, pal, i don't have time for your dumb little shtick. quit calling. she ain't interested."
He hangs up and tosses the phone at me.
"now if you're done misadventuring, we gotta go."
"Yeah yeah, I know."
I come up to Napstablook and hug him.
"It was nice chilling with you, Blooky. But I don't think I'm coming back anytime soon."
"yeah, I figured as much."
"Take care."
"you too."
Sans, fed up with stress, grabs my wrist and drags me out of the house.
"How bad is it?"
"she was headed for snowdin when i left. pap was doing his best to slow her down. the crazy old lady has lost her damn mind."
"Are we taking the boat back?"
"is that how you got here?"
"Yeah."
"you stay away from that thing. and no, we're not using the boat."
"Then how are we...?"
"i know a shortcut. now don't let go."
I am confused when he gets a better grip on my arm. But the sudden surge in magic coming off him has me clinging to him as the world rips away before us. I don't see it for long, as my mind has a lot to take in rather quickly, but it's like a tear in space and time that swirls with dark color. I can only compare it to images of nebulas and even then that can't really do what I see justice. This power he wields is incredible. I have a new sense of respect for Sans now. As the name shortcut implies, this happens in a really short amount of time to almost instantaneously, and the next thing I know is I'm standing with him somewhere in the treeline bordering the town.
"if we're lucky, we should've gotten here before her."
"Dude...Is that really what happens every time you do a shortcut?"
"uh...yeah?"
"That is the most epic thing ever in the history of awesome."
He blushes lightly for a moment before shaking it off.
"be serious for once. we need to go out there and keep tori from..."
Out of nowhere a couple of the trees spontaneously explode into pillars of flame.
"...doing shit like that."
"Holy fucking ass crackers..."
We rush out from the area not currently not burning hellscape only to find something much worse. Toriel has indeed made her way to town. Her path marked by the lack of snow, singed ground, and ash from the bones Papyrus would block her with that she, in turn, would then cremate in her intense fire.
Much of the town seemed to be spared her wrath with the exception of one establishment. A certain bar. Toriel did not know this town as she once did, not it's people or the way things worked. But she did know one name and that bar had it written out in large fancy neon letters...GRILLBY'S. Her child spoke of a man by that name. Claiming him to be decent and allowing her to work there. She thought it was possible to trust in her child's judgment. But now her child is gone. The skeletons had failed her. This Grillby was her only clue. Clearly, this man knew where the human was because he took her. Swaying her child with false kindness and lies. Luring her in like a lamb to slaughter till it was far too late. What other possible explanation could there be? That is why she attacked the bar. That is why she went after the man of flame. That is why she chased him to the cold streets when he ran unable to grab his coat That is why, even now, she was grappling this man and trying to overpower his weakening fire with her own. A task one would think improbable, what with Grillby being made of fire himself and having a much higher LV level than her. But one should never underestimate the power of a Boss Monster, especially when she's gone insane and has nothing left to hold her back.
"Give her back! I know you have her!"
"For the last time, I don't know where she is."
"Lair!"
Her fire bursts with her accusatory shout.
"She is here! You are keeping her from me! Admit your sin!"
"Get a hold of yourself and listen to reason."
"No, you listen! You are all the same! You are all cowards that prey on the innocent! Weak spineless men that resort to damning loved ones at the first signs of problems! Well not anymore!"
Her grip harshens and Grillby finds himself being pushed back, his heels plowing through the ground as she keeps pressing forward.
"I don't want to hurt you, my Queen. But I won't allow this nonsense any longer!"
Tapping into his LV for strength, Grillby begins to heat up and force Toriel back with his fire matching hers. This does not impress the rabid goat mother. In fact, it only indulges her delusion even further.
"This power you possess...It comes from the pain you gave others, is it not? From the lives you took?"
Grillby's spirit falters, flashes of the past where he was pushed to the brink and lost control of his fire come to him. He never wanted to kill anyone. He just wanted to be left alone and live his life. It wasn't his fault they kept attacking him. It is his fault that he couldn't find a better way to end the situation. Seeing the hesitation, Toriel rams her head into his face, smashing his glasses and sending the fire-man into the melting snow. His fire begins to burn softer, the cold dampening his flames and zapping his energy due to needing to burn. This leaves the fire elemental open in a bad way.
"You pathetic whelp..."
Toriel slowly approaches. Witnesses to the scene dare not intervene for fear of being her next victim.
"How long are you going to waste my time? Return my daughter to me and I will spare your life."
Grillby pulls himself up to at least be kneeling, though he isn't looking as hot as he should be.
"I would give her to you if I had her, believe me. But she isn't with me."
He is telling the truth. But to Toriel, all she hears is lies.
"Then you are of no use to me."
She holds out her palm to him and a ball of fire builds up in intensity.
"A fitting end for a miserable creature."
He wants to move. He wants to flee. Yet his body doesn't have the energy for the speed he needs. Sure, he might be able to move out of the way but not completely. He'll still get hit, and mixed with her intent, the damage alone will kill him. With not much else he can do, the defeated barman bows his head and waits for it all to end but not wanting to see it happen. What he does see is a faint glow set under Toriel. Just as the ball reaches its apex for firing, a massive bone raises from the ground and knocks her arm to the side, causing the ball of fiery death to be hurled into the treeline with the bone turning to dust soon after. This gets the angry goat monster's attention and her anger only grows when she turns to see the audacious prick that dared stop her execution. Papyrus stood hunched over and panting, his bones signed but still strong enough to bring him here. He had done his best to stall the mad Queen while Sans left to get the human. But even the great and terrible Papyrus was little more than a fly compared to Toriel. She swatted him down and left him in the snow thinking he'd be smart enough to remain there...she was wrong.
"*WEARY* I DON'T CARE IF YOU ARE THE QUEEN...I AM THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS...SECOND IN COMMAND TO THE KING'S ROYAL GUARD AND OVERSEER OF THIS TERRITORY...I'LL BE DAMNED IF I LET SOME DISGRACED MONARCH RUN WILD WHILE I STILL STAND."
She glares.
"You follow a weak fool. He promises you the lie of freedom, but if he really wanted to free our kind he could have gone through the barrier after getting ONE SOUL and taken six SOULs from the humans, then come back to freed everyone. But he is scared. Scared that he will lose everything once freedom is gained. So he keeps you and everyone else in despair. Because he would rather wait here, meekly hoping another human never comes."
"*WEARY* LIKE YOU'RE ANY DIFFERENT? YOU'RE JUST AS PATHETIC AS YOU CLAIM HIM TO BE."
"What?!"
"*WEARY* YOU WERE NOT JUST OUR QUEEN...YOU WERE HIS WIFE...YOU VOWED TO BE HIS OTHER HALF AND AID HIM IN TIMES OF NEED...INSTEAD, YOU ABANDONED HIM AND THE KINGDOM TO HIDE IN THE RUINS. YOU'RE A COWARD."
That shakes her.
"I am not the one murdering children! He does not have to do that! He is responsible for his choices!"
"SO ARE YOU!"
Regaining some of his strength, Papyrus makes his stand and looks intimidating as hell doing so.
"YOU LEFT WHEN YOU WERE NEEDED THE MOST. WHAT EVEN WAS YOUR PLAN? QUIETLY HIDE AWAY HOPING THINGS WILL GET BETTER WITHOUT YOU? THAT'S NOT HOW THINGS WORK. ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES AND HE'S THE ONE DEALING WITH THE MESS YOU'VE LEFT US ALL IN. YOU CALL HIM WEAK? A COWARD? THAT IS YOUR DOING. YOU MADE HIM WEAK. AND YOU ARE JUST AS COWARDLY TO SHOWER THE BLAME ONTO HIM INSTEAD OF ACKNOWLEDGING THAT ANY OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT TOO!"
"That is enough!"
She shoots out thick streams of fireballs, too thick to dodge through, and forces Papyrus to put up a layered barricade wall of bone. But Toriel's rage fuels her fire and at the current rate of burning, the wall won't protect him for long. Without warning, Toriel is blasted by a beam of energy into a building and her HP slowly drains.
[KARMA coursing through your veins.]
When things settle around Papyrus, Sans appears at his brother's side with his left eye blazing and a Gaster Blaster aimed at the former Queen. His timing being just right as the wall crumbles to ash.
"no one messes with my bro."
Papyrus gives his brother a cocky smirk.
"SHOW OFF."
Sans merely grins.
"jealous?"
"JEALOUS? NAH...MINE ARE BIGGER ANYWAY."
"hey, it's not the size of your blaster that counts but how you use it."
They share a small laugh before returning their attention to the shambling Boss Monster that's recovering.
"So...This is the loyalty of our friendship?"
"family beats out acquaintances.
and nothing in that promise says i can't attack you."
"Then you understand why I am upset. You lost the only family I have."
"first off, yeah, i get it. but fuck you if you think that justifies any of this shit. and second, she ain't lost and never was. she's behind you."
Sans points behind her and she is hesitant to look, though when she does, her eyes widen as she sees the human tending to a weakened Grillby.
"My child...?"
I can't believe she went this far. I knew Toriel was unstable and when triggered could end up doing a lot of harm. But this? This shit is ridiculous. The moment Papyrus had her attention I split from Sans to get to Grillby. Poor soul's fire has gotten so low that his color has darkened and I can barely feel his heat. I hold him close so that he can at least draw from my own warmth. It seems to work for the time being but I need to get him into his home to properly get his core temperature back up.
"*weak* P-Pussycat...Is it really you?"
"Shhh...Don't talk."
Flashes of his dying in the past timeline happen in my eyes and I try to keep for tearing up.
"*weak* Heh...This was not the way I wanted to meet your 'mom'."
"I know. Personally, I was hoping you never would."
He chuckles as I rub his back, trying to make heat with friction, and his head rests along my shoulder. Lost in my care for him, I don't even notice the situation going on with Sans and Toriel.
"*weak* You want to know something funny?"
"What's that?"
"*weak* Right after you left earlier...The uniform I got for you came in."
"Oh? And why is that funny?"
"*weak chuckling* You'll find out when you see it."
I should probably be suspicious of that, but frankly, I'm just glad he's doing better.
"Think you can stand up?"
"*weak* Well, I was enjoying this. But it is best we take this inside. Fucking hate this weather."
I snicker while propping myself into a slight crouch. He takes a moment to adjust to this position and hooks his arm around my neck. Once ready, that's when I push us up onto our feet and try to keep him steady.
"Easy there. Don't tell me you've been drinking on the job?"
"*weak* Maybe. I have been drinking you in for a while now."
"*snort* Oh my god...That was so adorably cheesy. Could you possibly get even cornier than that?"
"*weak* Do you have ninety minutes?"
"Dear lord you both are gross."
I forgot Flowey was in the backpack. This is fucking hilarious.
"Grillby...This is my brother, Flowey."
Grillby blinks a couple of times before shaking his head in a laugh.
"*weak* You weren't kidding about you having an odd family."
"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry you had to be thrown into this mess."
"My child...?"
Toriel's voice gets my attention and my hold on Grillby tightens on instinct, not that he minds. Sans tends to a hurt but still okay Papyrus and smack dab between us is the clingy goat mother from hell.
"Lynsie...You are okay. Thank goodness. I have been so worried."
Sweetness laces her voice like viscus honey. A complete 180° from the 'I shall kill you all' rage that was just there moments ago. She opens her arms and smiles like the world is made of rainbow candy.
"Come, young one. Let us go home and never return to this awful place again."
I made her a promise. A promise that I'd come home to her. I never break my promises. But right now...I can't make my body go near her. In fact, I can't stand looking at her. She notices my glaring eyes and is confused.
"Lynsie? Why are you looking at me like that?"
She takes a step forward. I step back.
"My child?"
She looks hurt. Not as hurt as Papyrus and the look Sans shoots me tells me to be careful with what I say before they shortcut away.
"What is wrong with you?"
Her eyes widen. Flowey moves around in the bag muttering that I need to shut up.
"My chi-"
"No. Don't hide behind that 'mommy dearest' thing you do. This is serious. You attacked innocent people. And for what? Because of me? You thought I was lost like some snot-nosed kid?"
"*weak whisper* Easy, pussycat. Not too harsh."
Grillby is right to try to warn me. But I can't stop myself.
"I...I have to protect you."
"Stop it! Stop using me and everyone else that came before me as your excuse. I love you, Toriel. You've been a better mom than I could've dreamed of. But you have to stop pretending that this is normal. I'm not your real child. Hell, I'm not even a kid."
Her eyes start to water.
"Do not...Do not say such awful things to me. I am your mother. And you will show me the respect I deserve."
"I can't replace Chara."
"Stop it..."
"I can't replace Asriel."
"Stop it."
"I can't be them no matter how much you want me to."
"Stop it! You are not saying these things! We are a family and you will come home with me right now! We will forget that this ever happened! We will sit in the living room, telling stories, eating butterscotch cheesecake...Because that is normal and we are a family!"
I know this will hurt but some bandaids need to be ripped off by others if the wearer won't do it.
"Damn it, Toriel, they're dead and not coming back!"
That did it. That was the straw that made everything break, for her and for me. The waterworks begin.
"I'm sorry. I know it hurts."
"No, you do not! You have no idea how I feel!"
"You wish that there was something you can do, but you can't. You beg and plead and bargain with any god-like being that will listen but nothing happens. And all you can do is wish you could go back in time to fix it so that the bad thing never happens, but you can't. All you have left are memories. Yet as time passes, even those start to leave you. So you stop time from passing for yourself. You build up a world that keeps the memories alive even if they aren't and soon that line blurs to become your reality. But it's not real, Toriel. They aren't coming home. And in forcing yourself to live in the past, you've lost everyone that is still here in the present. You had a family once. You still have the chance to have it again. You still have your husband."
She rubs her eyes while weeping.
"That man...That man is a fool. He does not care about anything or anyone."
"That's not true."
"How would you know?!"
"Because there is more than one way to grieve!"
I'm shaking at this point. So much so that Grillby takes hold of my free hand to make me relax.
"Asgore's a King, right? A man of power. How would it look to his people if the King broke down and cried? To show weakness by displaying emotion? Seeing how things are here it wouldn't surprise me if such a sight would cause a revolt in authority. There would be fighting for the crown. And after suffering such loss, no one would want to risk more bloodshed. Not when they still had a loved one to protect. So maybe...just maybe...He had to appear cold-hearted to save you because you are all he has left."
Where is all this coming from? Why does it feel like I know I'm supposed to be saying this stuff?
"But what do I know? I've never met him. Yet you have. You know him better than anyone. The man you talked about...Is that the same man you fell in love with and married?"
"*sniffling* N-No..."
"You weren't the only one to lose children that day. He's hurting too, Nanny. He just isn't allowed to show it. But I'd bet my soul that he's in as much pain as you are."
She drops to her knees and wails in mourning. I'm not sure where she's at in her progress in moving on, but from the looks of it, she might be starting to accept the reality that she's been denying for so long.
"*weak* Wow, pussycat...That was incredible."
Then why do I feel so bad? My heart hurts and I don't like it. I need a mom hug. And she needs to know that I still support her. Carefully, I get me and Grillby walking toward the bar. There, I'm able to let Greater Dog bring Grillby inside much to his concern. But he knows why I stay outside. I need to fix this. Still crying her eyes out, I come to Toriel's side and sit down.
"You know...This doesn't mean you're going home alone."
She tries to talk while sobbing. It sounds terrible. Like an upset kid that you can just barely understand.
"*crying* You...would...still...come...home...with...me?"
Oh my god, the snot bubbles...Quick! Don't focus on that!
"I know what I said hurt. And you probably think that I'm mad or that I hate you. But I only said what I said because I care and it needed to be said. I don't want to hurt you. I want to help you like how you've helped me. It's not healthy to live in the past like this. It probably feels like, if you move forward, then you're giving up on their memory and forgetting them. But that's not true or how it has to happen. You can still live your life and keep them with you."
She begins to settle down yet her face is still a disaster zone of grossness.
"*ambivalent* It...It does not?"
I give her back a few supportive pats before stroking her fur softly.
"No. As long as you love them and keep them in your heart, then they are never truly gone. Heh...Probably helps a little bit that Chara haunts me and Asriel..."
The words die on my tongue. It's not my place to say my brother business. I don't even think he's ready to tell me about even when I said his name. But that's on him. It's not easy to come back from the dead.
"He's likely watching over you and wanting you to be happy."
I faintly hear muffled sniffling coming from the backpack. One day, he might let her know his secret. But not now. Toriel smiles weakly, her tears steadily slowing down and her emotions coming under control.
"Thank you, my chi...*pause* Lynsie."
It wouldn't kill me to make this compromise.
"You can still call me your child if it helps you feel better...Mom."
Hear that makes her heart swell with joy and she pulls me into her embrace...while rubbing her gross all up in my hair!
"Oh, bless you, my child! You are truly an angel!"
And in an instant, I feel a chill run through me deeper than the cold I'm currently in.
"My child? Are you okay?"
"Y-Yeah. Just feeling cold is all."
"Right. My apologies. We should get going before you catch your death."
"Fine, but I need to do two things first."
"And what would they be?"
"Well, for starters..."
I pull from the hug to rip part of my sleeve off. This confuses her till I wipe my head and then her face. It makes her giggle embarrassingly.
"*giggles* I am so sorry, my child."
"Nah, it's fine. Stuff happens. Speaking of stuff...*pause* Toriel..."
"Yes?"
This is going to be even harder to say then the stuff I already did.
"I know this isn't my place to bring it up and it might take a long time before you feel comfortable enough to do so...But it would probably be helpful if you talked with Asgore."
Her face becomes serious yet not upset.
"What else do you need to do, my child?"
She changes the subject and this doesn't surprise me. She has issues and Agore is one of them. It will take a lot of help to get her to willingly be able to deal with him again. So I move on and stand up.
"I'm gonna go see how Grillby is doing. I won't feel right till I know he's fine."
She pouts but stands up beside me.
"I shall join you. I am ashamed of behavior and must apologize."
"Probably might smooth things over a bit better if you order something. Good food can make enemies into friends and Grillby makes the best in town...mostly because he's the only one serving food, but I still stand by my praising."
She laughs at my silliness, having missed it since I've been gone and how it shows innocence in a harsh world. I take her hand and lead her inside the bar. Once we enter the mood in the room changes instantaneously to fright. Patrons move far away from her. Grillby himself, recovering in a booth and looking healthier already, becomes panicked yet can't get away in time for me to not stop his escape.
"Please...Everyone...Calm down. No one is going to hurt you. Toriel has something she'd like to say."
Embarrassed and ashamed, Toriel hangs her head low.
"I hope you all can forgive me. The things I said...My actions...I had no right to behave as such. It was wrong and I am sorry. Especially to you, sir."
Grillby flinches.
"I was unjustly cruel to you when you have been more than kind to my daughter. I can not begin to think of ways to atone for this wronging. But whatever punishment you see fit, I will accept it without hesitation."
This got more of them to relax and even Grillby appears to take this truce of sorts. Still, I can sense his nervousness and I doubt that's going away any time soon.
"I can't really think of anything."
"Are you sure? Is there really nothing I can do for you that would make amends between us?"
Wow and I thought Papyrus was bad when it came to accidentally suggestive speech. Ah, who am I kidding, Papyrus is the king at that and no one else comes close.
"Really, there's nothing I want..."
He then looks at me and smiles.
"Except for your daughter's company and your permission to date her."
Awww...That's actually really sweet. ...Wait what?! Toriel's face holds similar surprise to Grillby's request, as do the bar patrons.
"Are you asking to court my daughter?"
Putting on his smooth charm, Grillby works the magic that only he can.
"I think it's only right that I ask and inform you of my interest. She's a very special lady that I've grown attached to. Be quite the shame to lose her over this. That, and she is my only employee."
Toriel likes this gentleman's respectfulness. I on the other hand not so much.
"I take it my opinion means squat now. Next thing I hear better not be the trading price of me for a cow, a pig, and two sheep."
"Pussycat, that's not what this is about and you know that."
The pet name confuses Toriel.
"Pussycat?"
I fold my arms.
"It's the name he teases me with."
"You know you love it. It suits you so well."
I try to look pissed but the blush isn't helping nor is him pinching my cheek like you do to babies.
"See? Adorable and feisty. Just like a pussycat."
I stick my tongue out and Toriel is swayed by our interactions. Seeing a familiarity in it all.
"Very well. I will allow this."
That's really surprising. Maybe she is making progress.
"But I will say this...If you hurt my child in any way...I know where to find you."
And there goes that progress. Grillby seems to understand the threat of a parent and rolls with it.
"Well, now that we've gotten that taken care of. Can I interest you girls in something before you go? A drink? Something to eat maybe?"
Toriel rubs her hands uncomfortably. Aside from causing a lot of fear in these people that are now eyeing her, she is also not used to being around more than one person and her awkward levels are beginning to show. I think I can spare her this. I mean, I'm embarrassed to hell too and want this done.
"I think a to go bag might be best, Grillz. Like a sampler of sorts, if that can be done?"
"Not a problem. But I will need some help. Heh...I can't see a thing right now. So if you could aid me for a bit, pussycat?"
Wait...can't see? But then what about...oh! I get it now. I slip the backpack off and hand it to Toriel.
"Sure thing, boss. Let's get cooking."
Grillby gets out of the booth and takes my arm.
"Mind waiting a moment, Nanny? This shouldn't take long."
She looks so uncomfortable but nods.
"I will wait here. But please...do hurry."
I nod and guide Grillby to the door leading into the rest of the building. Once that door closes behind us he starts to chuckle and I smirk.
"You sneak fire devil. You can see just fine, can't you?"
He smirks.
"What gave it away?"
"You took them off to kick that douche cat's ass. So either you wear them for aesthetic reasons or you need them for something else."
He runs a hand through his flaming hair coolly.
"I am partly nearsighted. The farther something is the more it looks like a blob. But I also can't help that I do look good in glasses."
"Yeah, you do."
I smack my face in realization and he grins.
"Damn it brain. Inside thoughts stay inside."
"God, you're adorable."
"And you're a dork."
"But you love this dork."
"Love is a strong word. Though I really, really, really do like you."
He smiles and moves my bandanna a bit.
"Did she notice this yet?"
Oh right, the hickey. I forgot about that.
"Dear lord, I hope not."
"Hmmm...Then I probably shouldn't make it bigger."
"Make it bigger?"
"Well, if you insist."
He takes advantage of my naïveté and clamps his mouth over that mark, forcing me to bite my lip to keep from making a sound. I think he gets a kick out of doing things like this. Crazy Toriel is just outside of the room and he's doing something that he knows makes it really hard for me to stay quiet. His hands on my waist don't help either and my held back whimpering is getting louder. When he does cease this steamy moment, the biggest damn smirk smears his cocky face and I am a wreck clinging to him like I'd fall if I let go.
"Mmmm...Not bad, pussycat. Though next time, I want to hear every little sound you make~."
His voice smolders in my ear and the shudder than leaves me only pleases him.
"Damn you and your hotness."
He lets me go of my flustered self with a chuckle.
"Come along, pussycat. We can't leave your mother waiting. She might kill someone if we do."
"Yeah...No one wants that."
I mosey on down to the kitchen while he grabs his spare pair of glasses before joining me. There we pull things out and start cooking. Grillby doing the actual cooking whereas I just do prep work.
"I forgot to ask this...But how much will I owe you for this? I spent the last of my gold in Waterfall."
"Don't worry about it."
"No, I owe you this at least. What with all the crap I've gotten you into. What's the price on my tab?"
"For this? About 280G. But don't worry about it. I can take it out of your paycheck."
"Fair enough, boss-man. Though...I know this will sound odd. But can some of that pay go to Sans's tab?"
This makes him pause.
"Can I ask why?"
"I promised to help him out a little. As thanks for...well...putting up with me."
"...You're a good girl, Lynsie."
"I try. Lord knows I try."
He looks at me with concern but says nothing. I can feel the start of an emotional flux coming on so I try to focus on the mindlessness of cutting ingredients and separating things to go with each thing they'll be paired with. My hope is the numbness will blank my mind, keeping me from becoming a mess that is seen in chick flicks. This is my hope. Because the day doesn't need any more drama than it had already.
[Meanwhile: Skeleton household]
Papyrus sits on the edge of the couch, his Battle Body armor off and washing the scorch marks off his sore bones with a moist cloth. Sans, for his part, tended to his brother by applying healing ointment and ice packs where it was needed as he's not very adept at healing magic. Lucky for the both of them that Toriel carried no intent when it came to attacking Papyrus, up till that last part at least, and that the skeleton has fairly high Defense. But still, the old goat had ended up wounding something important of his other than his body...she wounded his pride. And that can't be healed so easily.
"how ya feeling now?"
"LIKE A HOUSE GOT DROPPED ON ME."
"i told you tori was tough. it's the perk of being a boss monster. even with low LV, she can still hit hard as hell."
"THAT'S FOR DAMN SURE. OLD BITCH BESMIRCHED MY REPUTATION. THIS IS NOT GOOD."
Typical ego driven Papyrus.
"please, like it matters what any of these fuckwads think. you were the brave one that stood ground against the raging queen. all those other assholes hide like bitches. you're the big shot here. no one can talk shit about you after this."
And typical Sans playing up his brother to make him feel better. At least this time it's real.
"AS TRUE AS THAT IS, THERE IS NO PROOF THAT THEY WON'T WHISPER SHIT WHEN THEY THINK NO ONE IS WATCHING. ALL IT TAKES IS ONE PRICK TO SAY SOMETHING TO SOMEONE OUTSIDE OF TOWN AND IT'S OVER. UNDYNE WILL THINK I'M LOOSING MY EDGE."
"or...be impressed that you tussled with the queen and lived."
"WE NEED TO COVER THIS INCIDENT UP, SANS. WE NEED TO PREVENT WORD FROM GETTING OUT."
"i think you might be overreacting just a bit. but whatever."
Papyrus glares, batting Sans away as he stood up in annoyance.
"CONSIDERING YOU ARE THE ONE THAT NORMALLY THINKS MORE AHEAD, I'M SURPRISED YOU DON'T SEE THE DANGER IN ALL THIS."
"oh, do tell?"
"IF UNDYNE COMES HERE, SOMEONE WILL TELL HER THAT WE HAVE A HUMAN. AND IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED, THE HUMAN ISN'T HERE. NOT ONLY THAT, BUT SHE WILL QUESTION WHY WE FAILED TO HAND OVER THE HUMAN THE MOMENT WE GAINED POSSESSION OF IT. WE WILL BE FOUND GUILTY OF TREASON AND KILLED. IS THAT CLEAR ENOUGH FOR YOU?"
Sans took such revelation rather calmly.
"is that all? i thought you were going to say something i didn't already know."
Papyrus growls, tossing the cloth onto Sans's face.
"OKAY, ASSHOLE, IF YOU ALREADY KNOW THAN WHAT BRIGHT IDEA HAVE YOU COME UP WITH TO FIX THIS?!"
Sans peels the wet cloth off his face.
"simple. undyne is a moron. so we lie."
Papyrus is not impressed.
"...YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS."
Sans makes himself cozy on the couch and lounges.
"think about it. she's so stuck in her human-hating ways that she'll believe anything about them if it's negative. hell, she actually thinks that weird shit alphys shows her is real. i mean, have you ever seen our human do anything like what's done in anime?"
Sans makes a good point there. Undyne isn't the smartest fish in the sea.
"*SIGH* NO. BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN WE CAN JUST TELL HER ANYTHING. IT HAS TO BE CONVINCING."
"you really think i haven't thought about this? she already thinks humans can crazy shit like fly and have mind controlling powers. if she ever comes asking about the human, we just tell her that the human used some strange ability on us and we blacked out. when we woke up, the human was gone and we had no memory of the events that happened over the days it had us under its spell."
"THAT'S THE STUPIDEST THING I HAVE EVER HEARD. ...BUT IT'S JUST STUPID ENOUGH THAT IT MIGHT WORK."
"see? you should have more faith in me."
"STILL...WE SHOULD HAVE A BACKUP PLAN IN CASE THE LIE FAILS."
"another easy one. we just get the human back."
Sans was starting to get too cocky for Papyrus's liking.
"AND HOW DO YOU SUPPOSE WE DO THAT? I HIGHLY DOUBT TORIEL IS GOING TO LET THE HUMAN OUT OF HER SIGHT AGAIN."
"you forget one detail that makes this plan guaranteed to work."
"AND THAT IS...?"
Sans grins wickedly.
"she doesn't tend to listen when told not to do something. all it takes is the right bait to lure her out. then...wham! we capture the human."
Papyrus had to admit, this scheme was quite possibly the most thought out luck based idea he ever heard.
"JUST WHEN I THINK YOU'RE GOING SOFT, YOU GO AND SURPRISE ME. WELL DONE."
That caught Sans off guard. Papyrus actually complimented him? This must mean hell froze over.
"wow...um...thanks, bro."
Something comes to Papyrus's thoughts.
"HOLD ON..."
"what?"
"DOESN'T THIS GO AGAINST YOUR PROMISE TO THE QUEEN? IF SHE WAS THIS MAD THINKING WE LOST THE HUMAN, I CAN'T IMAGINE THE LEVELS HATE THEY WILL COME IF WE ACTUALLY TURNED THE HUMAN OVER TO THE KING."
"*scoff* who said anything about turning the human over to the king?"
This was confusing.
"THEN...WHAT?"
Sans strums his fingertips on the couch cushion.
"pap...that human ain't normal. she can't end up in the king's grasp."
This got Papyrus's attention.
"YOU'VE BEEN HIDING SOMETHING FROM ME, HAVEN'T YOU?"
Sans doesn't reply and stops tapping his fingers.
"I KNOW YOU'RE HIDING SOMETHING, SANS. AND WHATEVER IT IS, IT'S THE REASON YOU ARE THAT GIRL'S 'SECRET BUDDY'."
Sans sighs.
"if i told you, you wouldn't believe me."
Papyrus folds his arms.
"TRY ME."
Sans looks at his brother and then the floor. Thinking this over for a moment. He knew this day would come. The day he'd tell Papyrus about the weird things he's seen Lynsie do and of the Black Soul. There were still doubts his brother would think any of it was true. But he hated having to lie about it more than he thought. So Sans sat up and patted the seat beside him.
"you'll want to sit for this. this is going to take a while."
Suspicious of what or how this conversation will go, Papyrus sits beside Sans and readies for this talk.
[Meanwhile: Snowdin Forest]
Toriel, Flowey, and I are at last heading back to the Ruins with a large carryout bag that is driving me nuts with how good it smells. At least I have a large soda to tide me over till we get home. Cooking with Grillby during a magic flux was both good and bad. The good part was Grillby helping to settle me down when my emotions began to overwhelm. The bad part was Grillby's form of 'help' was to convert the negative emotions into positive ones by having 'fun' with me. While his 'fun' is enjoyable, hot as fuck too, I found it uncomfortable due to Toriel being around and I'd rather not have more evidence than the hickey for her to find. Lucky for us all, she hasn't noticed the hickey thanks to tying the bandanna higher and tighter, no way this curtain is falling away. Actually, now that I think about it, she hasn't seemed to notice my chipped tooth, either that or she's waiting to ambush me about it later. Until then, I have time to think of a lie. No point having her mad at the skele-bros even more so.
"I am glad you both are coming home. I am not used to the quiet as I once was."
"The feeling is mutual."
"And those boys...You do not suppose that they are upset with me. Right?"
"Sans? Probably not. Papyrus? That's a high maybe."
"Should we have gone to apologize?"
"Let them relax a bit. Remember how the people got all jumpy seeing you at the bar? Showing up to their house, even with good intentions, could still end up going bad."
"Hmmm...I suppose you are right."
"You'll have your chance to say sorry. He'll come knocking as he often does. Not sure about Papyrus. But I think it's better not to try with him so soon."
Toriel looks at the bag in her paw-like hands. And again, why are they paws and hot hooves? Why am I fixated on that?
"Ooof!"
I get distracted by my strange monster hand thoughts and trip over a snow poff...But I saved the soda!
"Child? Are you alright?"
"*muffled* Yeah..."
I pick myself up.
"I'm just embarrassed is all."
"Oh, that good. I was worried you...Child?"
"Huh?"
"What happened to your tooth?"
Well...shit. Guess it's time to see how well I can improvise.
"My tooth?"
I feel around for the chipped space and I gasp.
"Holy crap!"
I frantically look around in the snow for something I know isn't there.
"No, no, no, no, no, no!"
"Lynsie, calm down. We shall fix it."
"Can this be healed with magic?"
She pouts.
"No, I am afraid not. At most, magic can be used to install the replacement and mold it into the tooth that was lost. But to regrow a damaged or missing part of the body is even beyond the ways of magic."
So there are limits? Damn it. I guess that's a good thing. No one can go nuts thinking they're god.
"So you can put in a cap?"
"I will have to practice. But I should be able to do so."
"...You are so cool, Nanny."
She blushes and I resume drinking as we continue on our way homeward bound.
[Meanwhile: Hotland's Laboratory]
Alphys remained at the monitors the entire day in hopes of catching some of the ongoing plots she was lucky enough to indulge in. While she received no footage from the lone camera in Waterfall, apart from the passing of Mettaton in his search for the human, she did get plenty of sweet action from the cameras in Snowdin's forest. The storming out of the former Queen and the defensive battle Papyrus had to put up was thrilling. It was a shame she couldn't get any clear footage when things happened in town. From what sound she did pick up, the incident was a spectral worthy of recording. Mettaton had returned in disappointment some time into all this. Lamenting how he missed his chance to be a real star and get the girl, or some other dumb line he made up. And now he's just a noisy pain in the ass.
"*DRAMATIC SOBS* HOW COULD I NOT FIND HER? WITH ALL THE GADGETS IN THIS BODY I COULDN'T TRACE A SIMPLE CELLPHONE SIGNAL? A POX ON THIS FEEBLE TECH!"
"Hey! Don't you fucking talk down to my work. Without that feeble tech, you wouldn't have a body. Do you want me to take it back?"
"N-NO! NO, DEAR. I...UM...I AM MERELY UPSET. NOTHING I SAY SHOULD BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY WHEN LIKE THIS."
Alphys sneers and returns to her viewing.
"I don't know why you're even being a bitch right now. It's not like you can't get the human."
This gets the melodramatic robot's attention.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN? SANS FOUND HER. SHE'S BACK UNDER THE SKELETON'S WATCH...RIGHT?"
The lizard in the lab coat snickers to herself.
"Oh, you sad bucket of bolts and ectoplasm. Fetch me a bag of chips and I shall show you the meaning of hope."
It took a moment for that to register in his processors and he kicked his servos into high gear, moving faster then the wicked woman had seen in a long time. Hell, he nearly slams the bag into her face when he skids to her side.
"HERE! NOW SHOW ME! SHOW ME! SHOW ME! SHOW ME! SHOW ME! SHOW ME!"
"Oh my god! Here! Now shut the fuck up!"
She pushes a button or two and the screens pull up the video feed of right outside the Ruins. His sensors pick up the visual of the Queen and the human as they reenter the Ruins.
"Now you know where she is. The question now...What do you plan to do next?"
Mettaton, in an extremely rare moment, is silent.
"Really? Nothing? No over the top act or some line about being the hero or some other bullshit?"
Mettaton merely rolls away.
"Hey! Where the hell do you think you're going?"
He pauses. Turning to her with an eerie innocence, like calm waters hiding a hungry shark.
"WHERE? TO THE DRAWING BOARD, DEAR ALPHYS. I HAVE A NEW SCRIPT TO PREPARE. A CAST TO ASSEMBLE. AND NO TIME TO LOSE."
He continues his exit by rolling backwards ominously.
"THIS IS MERELY THE INTERMISSION. A TO BE CONTINUED IF YOU WILL. THE SHOW MUST GO ON, ALPHYS. AND IT WILL GO ON. HA...HA...AHAHA! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Well, that's not creepy at all. What sort of hell did Alphys just unleash? Oh well, at least it's entertaining.
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goodvibesatpeace · 6 years
Text
Life Is Short—Don’t Wait to Do What You’ve Always Dreamed of Doing
Life is short. Say what you’ve wanted to say. Do what you’ve wanted to do. Don’t wait until the only thing you can say is, I wish I’d had the courage to do it sooner.
Lunch hour.
Escaping the stale, re-circulated air of my office, I fled down Main Street in pursuit of freedom from the routine of the day.
A rusty bell clanged against the door of a dusty used bookstore when I pushed it open.
Scanning the horizon of bulging shelves and teetering stacks of magazines, my eyes suddenly met hers and my heart began to race.
They were the blazing orange eyes of an African lion on the dog-eared, sun-faded cover of a National Geographic magazine.
I hadn’t seen those eyes in thirty years, but their impact on me hadn’t faded.
As a kid I use to spend hours dreaming within the pages of these very magazines before cutting out pictures of unsuspecting lions and elephants to carry them around in a small wicker basket—a somewhat seventies version of a vision board.
One Sunday night, I brought a three-page book I had written about these magical creatures, complete with pasted-in cut-outs, to the dining room table where everyone had gathered for dinner.
Feeling proud with accomplishment, I handed it to my dad, a retired Naval officer, who held it up and began to read it aloud—only soon he couldn’t read anymore, for he was laughing so hard and so was everyone else.
Of course they were just laughing because they thought it was cute, but I was only six years old. How could I possibly have known that?
That day I stopped playing with magazine cut-outs of African animals and writing silly little stories to paste them into.
That day I stopped dreaming about Africa.
Have you ever had a dream that got away?
Have you ever wanted to do something—paint sunsets, sing opera, run marathons, design skyscrapers—but stopped yourself before you even tried because it wasn’t realistic, practical or, in line with what your family/friends/co-workers expected of you?
When we shelve our dreams, the human experience runs the risk of feeling more like a life sentence of obligations.
When the lunch hour was up I returned to work with an African lion tucked under my arm.
In the days that followed, I looked at that magazine often, dreaming of being under a blazing crimson African sky, only now that sky was clouded with regret.
The opportunity of spending a ‘gap year’ volunteering in Africa or joining the Youth Corps had long since passed.
Or had it? Yes, it’s true I couldn’t go to Africa for several months, but maybe I could volunteer in Africa for a few weeks.
Over the next several weeks I gave myself permission to at least play with the idea. I began to research short-term volunteer opportunities in Africa with lions, elephants, and all the other magical animals I use to tote around in that little wicker basket.
I began to budget, barter, and save, determined to make it happen.
Even that old, worn-out lion on the magazine cover seemed to be perking up as the puzzle of a plan began to come together.
Months later that lion, now freed from its magazine, was tucked into my passport folder as I boarded a plane for Cape Town, South Africa to volunteer on an African animal conservation project.
Thrill and excitement deafened the echoes of friends and co-workers who thought I was going to Africa because I was ‘lost’ or approaching a mid-life crisis.
No, I’m going to Africa because I want to stop saying, I wish I’d done it sooner.
I arrived and met my boss, a khaki-clad, burly, young (ten years my junior) South African ranger named Gary.
With big, strong hands on his hips, he eyed my tennis shoes and embellished denim clam diggers and said,
“Let me guess, you’re here because you dreamed of Africa.”
“Yes!” I beamed.
He grunted and said, “Well it’s time to wake up, Canada. This is a working game reserve; these are wild animals.”
“Okay.”
“You’ll be sleeping alone over there in that tent. The electrical wire mostly keeps the animals out.”
“Ooooo.K.”
“And one last thing, Canada. Out here you’re going to have to learn to play with a lion’s testicles.”
“What?! That wasn’t in the brochure! And even if it was, I won’t do that!”
“Relax, Canada,” he said. “It’s a local expression. It means you’re going to have to get out of your comfort zone, take some risks. Have the courage of a lion.”
The next morning when we began our patrol in an open-air jeep under a symphony of red, orange, lavender, and yellow hues playing above as the African sunrise came to life.
Silhouettes of giant African elephants appeared in the morning mist.
I was no longer dreaming in the pages of a National Geographic magazine, I was living them.
Moments later Gary parked the jeep and handed me a rusty, heavy shovel and said, “Time to shovel sh*t.”
Elephant dung. Mountains of it. It will be used as fertilizer in the reserve’s sustainable vegetable garden.
Within fifteen minutes my back was aching, and my new work gloves were stretched out and so slippery with dung and sweat that they refused to stay on my hands.
This wasn’t the dream of Africa I had. This was beginning to feel more like a nightmare.
I began to question myself.
You came all the way to Africa to shovel elephant dung?
Maybe my dream of Africa was a silly childhood vision.
Maybe I was lost and should have spent this money on therapy instead.
What would my friends and co-workers say if they could see me now, knee-deep in dung, barely able to lift this antiquated shovel?
They’d think I was a fool.
Humiliation began to creep over me, engulf me even.
But then I remembered Gary’s words; playing with a lion’s testicles was a huge step out of my comfort zone. I needed to have the courage of a lion. Lions don’t complain. They’re the king of the jungle because there’s nowhere they won’t go.
And the lioness is the hunter, the conqueror, the fearless female who doesn’t back away from anything.
And hey, I’m in Africa. I am in Africa.
This elephant dung will help feed a village, and I get to contribute to something meaningful, something bigger than my mouthy little ego.
Get out of your head and focus on that.
I dug in deep. This was my dream, to come to Africa. As I became heavy with appreciation, the shovel lightened up.
Days were spent rebuilding roads one stone at a time, by hand, darting a grumpy Rhinoceros who needed hormone therapy, tree planting within the lion’s camp as a pride of (satiated) lions looked on and moving more mountains of elephant dung.
The elation, the satisfaction, the joy of being in this place was even greater than I had imagined and dreamed.
It was the first time in my life I felt real and true meaning.
It was the first time in my life I felt purpose.
It was the first time in my life my soul was satisfied.
And the irony was, it was the first time in my life I was paying to do a job instead of getting paid to do one.
The more I gave of myself, the more I received.
As my project came to a close, I removed the now almost unrecognizable lion cut-out from the pocket of my denim clam diggers and placed it with a young tree sapling in the lion’s camp.
I no longer needed to tote him around for my dream of going to Africa had been realized.
Sometimes we believe our dream has to be huge and world-changing, or at the very least net us millions of dollars so it has the stamp of society approval on it.
Whether you’re moving mountains, or just moving mountains of elephant dung, a dream is still a dream, and it’s yours.
The shadow of regret is only ever a decision away; we can keep it at bay by having the courage to play with our dreams.
So how do we play?
P – Give yourself permission to pursue possibilities and reshape your dreams to meet your current reality.
L – Lay low. Don’t feel like you have to tell everyone what you’re going to do. Tell them what you did, that way you won’t be bogged down by other’s fears and doubts. Not everyone will be your cheerleader.
A – Acknowledge your fears and doubts. When they appear, it means you’re doing something that’s meaningful to you, otherwise fear wouldn’t bother showing up.
Y – Why not? You deserve to play, to discover and uncover those things and experiences that make your heart beat a little faster. You are worthy because you were gifted the gift of life.
You don’t have to go to Africa to play with a lion’s testicles. You can play wherever you are
Much love to all... go in peace my friends
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Here’s a Javid oneshot that I started writing a while ago. Modern AU at the fair! If people are interested I would be open to writing a sequel.
Okay, David thought. Maybe volunteering to take Les to the fair was a bad idea. It was the last weekend the fair was open and he’d been walking about it for weeks. Since their father was in the accident, they hadn’t been able to go as a family, and because he was basically bed ridden and his mom and Sarah were working, David was the only one left who could take him.
He was happy to do it, especially after seeing his eyes light up when he told him. He thought it could be fun. Besides, he and Les both deserved a day off. Since the accident, David had been carting Les around everywhere. He offered to do more, maybe even get a job, but his father refused, knowing his large school workload and how much he was helping around the house. While David would have been more than willing to help, he was glad he didn’t have any more on his plate. AP classes took a toll on you already. Instead, he dropped his piano lessons for now. He loved playing, but he knew the lessons were expensive and their family simply couldn’t afford it right now.
Les had made sacrifices too, and that was basically putting up with David’s awful driving. Every time he drove his brother anywhere, Les was taking a huge risk just by getting into the car. Also, David could tell Les wasn’t a huge fan of his music, but he only complained about it occasionally, probably because he didn’t want to wreck.
Remarkably, even with the terrible traffic of a Friday afternoon, they had made it all the way across town in one piece. For once, Les wasn’t paying attention to David’s driving. He was practically bouncing up and down with excitement the entire way.
Once they got to the fair, they had only ridden the small rollercoaster in the front of the park and gotten some pizza before he lost Les. It only took about 20 minutes total, which may have actually been a record. It definitely wasn’t the first time he’d lost his brother. Les had a special knack for getting lost and an even better one for giving his brother anxiety.
His parents had given Les a phone as soon as David got his driver’s license because Les would be walking across the street to the high school all by himself and they wanted him to have a way of communicating with them. Of course, just because he had a phone, that didn’t mean he was going to keep it charged. He was just a ten year old, after all. David could have guessed it was dead but attempted to call him anyway; unfortunately, David’s suspicions were confirmed when Les’s phone sent him straight to voicemail.
Every second Les wasn’t with him made it harder and harder to breathe. I swear to god if this kid gives me a panic attack here in this very crowded location- but he didn’t get to finish his internal monologue, because he was nearly trampled by a group of boys about his age running past. His first instinct was to run, but he paused when he noticed a boy about half of the others’ size running in the middle of the pack. Relief washed over him when he realized it was Les, but the feeling was quickly replaced with anger and worry as he took in the rest of the situation.
Well, here goes nothing, he thought, saying a silent prayer before barging into the middle of the crowd and grabbing his brother by the shoulder. He almost made it out when he collided with one of the other boys and the three of them toppled to the ground.
David shot up immediately, turning to the boy he’d plowed into. “I am so, so sorry! I was just trying to get to my brother-”
“It’s fine,” the boy assured him, standing quickly and grabbing both him and Les by the shoulder. “We need to go.” He spat. David shot a questioning look at Les, who just smiled at him excitedly as the three of them took off across the park.
      After further examination, David noticed they were running from someone. Thank god it wasn’t the cops, but it was a fairly large boy with the build of a football player. His first reaction was anger. Why did they have to get pulled into this? He and Les hadn’t done anything! Then his anger was replaced with fear, because he really hoped Les hadn’t done anything.
It was looking like they might actually outrun the boy when Les tripped over one of his worn tennis shoes and slid face first into the dirt. Instinctively, David stopped and lifted Les into his arms, then began to run again, but at that point it was too late. The boy chasing them had caught up. He felt a tug on the back of his shirt and he held even tighter to Les as he skidded to a stop.
Fear seized David. They were in a fairly secluded area. Whatever happened back here, it was likely nobody else would ever know.
“I don’t recognize you.” He boy behind him said so close to his ear it made him shiver. “You a new member of Jacky Boy’s group of misfits or are you one of his flings?” He laughed, mockingly.
“Who?” David asked. When he didn’t get a reply, he began to recite the explanation he had been preparing in his head. “Listen, I’m sure this is all a mistake. I don’t know what-”
“Keep them out of this, Oscar. They didn’t do nothing.” Said a voice behind them.
David was getting really tired of being interrupted, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t thankful for the boy from earlier’s intervention.
The other guy, Oscar, chuckled but didn’t loosen his grip on David’s shirt. “Really? That’s real weird, Jack, because that kid looks a whole lot like the kid who tripped me earlier.”
David glared at Les, who smiled guiltily in response, but said nothing.
Jack approached Oscar slowly. It was clear to David that Oscar was scared of the other boy because step Jack made, he felt Oscar tense more and more. Finally, only about a foot away, Jack waved a hand in front of Oscars face.
“How many fingers am I holdin’ up?” He asked, holding three fingers a few inches from Oscar’s face.
Oscar swatted them away with his free hand. “What’s the big idea, Kelly?”
Jack smirked, the kind of smirk that let you know whatever he was about to do, he was proud of it. “Just wanted to make sure your eyesight was okay, buddy, because I’m the one who tripped you. How many fingers am I holdin’ up now?” Jack held up the three fingers again and lowered his ring and pointer fingers. Les laughed, and even David couldn’t conceal the small smile that had appeared on his face.
Without warning, Oscar threw them to the ground. As quickly as he could, David moved his hands to a position that protected Les’s head. Unfortunately, when doing this, it left him vulnerable. He fell with his body landing directly on top of his arm. He let go of Les, who seemed to be fine besides some scrapes on his hands and knees, and sat up, tending to his arm. Luckily, it didn’t look too bad. Probably just a sprained wrist. He had a brace in his first aid kit. What really concerned him now was Jack, the random boy who seemed to be taking the heat for his little brother.
Oscar lunged at him, but Jack dodged the punch with ease, retreating. “Hey, listen. I just came out here to have a good time, okay? I didn’t come here to fight. Apologize for what you said and we can walk our separate ways and pretend nothing ever happened.” He negotiated.
Oscar wasn’t taking it, though. He scoffed. “Like I would every apologize to you. You’re just a bunch of fags and shemales.”
And without hesitation, Jack lunged, hitting Oscar in the nose. The fight only escalated from there. David tried to take Les away from it but he wanted to stay in case Jack was hurt. “He did save me, David. Shouldn’t we at least make sure he is okay?”
David was pretty sure it was just an excuse to stay and watch the fight, but the kid did have a point. Besides, if Jack began to lose, which didn’t look like would be happening anytime soon, David could step in for backup. He had never fought before and suspected he wouldn’t be the best at it because of his lanky limbs and frame, but he felt a strong urge to help the boy. Anyone who looked out for Les was a friend of his. Besides, he would throw a few punches at Oscar with pride.
It was obvious Jack had the upper hand and the fight was quick. After he got a few punches in, Jack seized him by the back of the shirt, much like Oscar had to him, and told him “Find your brother and get out of here.” Then he took a seat on a bench nearby, wincing when he slouched, and holding a hand to his midsection.
As soon as Oscar was out of sight, David rushed to Jack, dragging Les behind him. “You stand right here and do not move. I think you’ve caused enough trouble for one day.” David scolded, turning to Jack.
“But-”
“No buts! Later, I want an explanation but not now!” He told his brother sternly.
“Jeez, kid. I thought you said this was your brother, not your mom.” Jack said, laughing at his own joke, then wincing from the pain.
David reached out and helped him lay down on the bench. He didn’t resist. “I’m his brother. Let me take a look at that. I’m on my fourth year of healthcare in school and I’m interning at a hospital near here. I can at least tell you if you need to seek medical attention.”
Jack shrugged. “Okay, whatever you say, mom,” he mumbled. The smirk from earlier was back, but it quickly left as he continued. “This wasn’t your brother’s fault by the way. He actually did the right thing.” Jack claimed.
David raised an eyebrow. He loved his brother but another thing he had a knack for was getting into trouble.
“Yeah, he did.” Jack nodded, his face completely serious. “Oscar there and his brother, Morris, were threatening my friend. Our group was just getting off a rollercoaster and he was waiting for us at the bottom with one other person. He’s trans and disabled and they were being assholes and using all these slurs, so your brother heard and tripped one of them when they started moving in on them. I’m glad he did, too, or else he probably would have gotten a few punches in before the rest of us got down there.”
“Oh,” David exclaimed. He couldn’t help but look surprised. Jack and his friends looked like nothing but trouble at first glance. “Les, is that true?”
Les nodded, looking down at his feet.
“Then I owe you an apology.” David told him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. You did a brave thing. Just please be careful.”
Les nodded again, this time meeting David’s eyes. He had a small smile on his face.
David turned back to Jack. “So your ribs…” He’d checked for broken ribs plenty of times on dummies, but never extremely attractive teenage boys. Normally, he felt confident when practicing medicine, but now he only felt awkward, especially with Les there. “Is there anything else that might be hurt?” He asked.
Jack shook his head. “Nah, other than some bruised knuckles. This was one of the only good hits Oscar got in. Poor guy, thinks he can fight.”
“Good.” David said, unable to think of anything else. Slowly, his hands reached out to raise Jack’s shirt. “May I?” He asked.
Jack smirked again. Asshole. “Be my guest.” He said in a manner that made David blush.
When he raised the shirt, the medical side of his brain immediately noticed the bruising on his ribs. There was a possibility they could be broken, but at least there were no noticeable breaks. The annoying, teenage, boy crazy side of his brain immediately noticed his well-toned stomach. He bit his lip as he reached out to gently press on his ribs.
Jack winced.
“Sorry. It will only take a minute, I promise. So far so good.” He gave him a hopeful smile. Jack returned it.
By the time he was done, David’s ears and cheeks were warm. He hoped it was minor enough to where he could blame it on the heat. “You’re all good. All you need is rest and ice. Whatever you do, don’t wrap a bandage around it. That could make it worse. The pain shouldn’t last for too long.”
Jack thanked him and sat back up, tugging his shirt back down in the process. “I’m Jack, by the way.” He introduced himself, extending his hand.
David shook it. “I’m David. Thanks again for helping us out like that. We owe you.”
Jack waved it off. “Nah, we’re even. Les is a good kid. He helped protect my friend, you helped protect him, and I helped protect you. The circle of protection.”
David smiled in return. “I, uh, I’ve got a first aid kit in my car. Its parked near the front of the park. Why don’t we go get an ice pack for you and a brace for me and then we can find your friends. I’d actually really like to meet them.”
Jack nodded. “Alright.”
The walk to David’s car was only five minutes at most, but by the time they got there, Jack was a bit out of breath, which didn’t seem normal for him after seeing how fit the boy was first hand. David opened the trunk and hold him to sit as he and Les pulled out the first aid kit. He handed an ice pack to Jack, some band aids to Les, and got the brace out for himself.
He had adjusted these braces many times before, but never on himself with his nondominant hand. It was harder than he expected. Noticing his struggles, Jack grabbed his hand. “Let me.” He told him, gently adjusting the straps.
David felt the urge to shiver every time Jack’s hands grazed his skin. He doesn’t know why this has such a large effect on him, considering he just had his hands all over his chest.
As he watched Jack fix the brace, he noticed the many callouses and rough spots on his hands. “Musician?” He asked, nodding toward them. He could definitely see Jack playing the guitar or the drums. He was the kind of guy who you wouldn’t be surprised if he casually mentioned he was in a rock band.
“Artist.” He corrected.
“Oh cool. Draw or paint or…?”
“A little of everything.” Jack shrugged, giving the final tugs on the brace. “There. Now, I think my friends are probably toward the food court. That was out meet up spot originally.”
David nodded. As they approached the food court, it became extremely obvious to him who Jack’s friends were. They were not hard to spot, mainly because the group was huge, loud, and bright. There were at least 15 of them huddled around a small picnic table, all sounding a bit panicked. David saw relief wash over their faces when they saw Jack, and the mood changed instantly. The boys irrupted into a jumble of good natured comments and jokes.
“And the hero of the day!” A boy with a kind smile at the edge of the picnic table shouted, gesturing at a beaming Les. “Thanks again, kid. You okay?” He asked, his voice full of concern.
“Yeah, I’m good,” Les replied, standing tall and accepting the compliment with pride. “No problem, Crutchie.”
David’s eyes nearly bugged out his head when he heard the words leave his brother’s mouth. Next to the table in arms reach of the boy sat a pair of crutches. David knew that Les could sometimes be insensitive or undereducated because of his age, but he never thought he would ever say anything like that. “LESLIE MAYOR JACOBS WHAT ON EARTH DO YOU THINK-”
The group burst out in laughter but David just stood there in confusion, looking from Jack to the boys at the table, none of whom stopped laughing long enough to ease David’s nerves.
“Hey, hey, it’s fine! It’s a nickname and it’s how I introduced myself,” The boy with the crutches told him in a comforting tone. David must have still looked uneasy because the boy continued. “If you want, you can call me by my real name, Charlie, but you’ll be the only one.” He turned to Les. “That your brother?” He asked, pointing at David. Les nodded.
“Everyone, this is Davey. Davey, this is everyone.” Jack introduced. The group waved at him and he waved back awkwardly. He wasn’t a fan of too much attention.
“What about you guys?” Crutchie asked, addressing David and Jack with gentle smile. “You okay?”
Jack nodded but David raised an eyebrow at him. “We’re fine but Jack needs to go home. He bruised some ribs and staying here will only make things worse. He needs rest.”
“Thank you, Davey.” Crutchie told him, but he wasn’t looking at him, he was shooting a knowing look at Jack, who met his eyes with a glare. “Jack has a tendency not to tell us about things like this. If it weren’t for you he probably would have been here all night.”
“That would have been very bad for his health.” David smiled. He had already come to like teasing Jack. He had a feeling he and Crutchie would get along quite well.
“Fine.” Jack pouted. “If I would have known you and Crutchie would team up on me like this I would have never introduced ya. What about tomorrow. Would it be okay for me to come then?”
David thought about it for a second. “Yeah. You might be in some pain, but as long as you keep icing and taking antibiotics, you should be fine.”
Jack smiled. “Great. In that case, unless any of the boys have any objections, we’ll be back here tomorrow when it opens. Join us if you’d like. You and Les.”
David glanced down at Les, who nodded excitedly. “We’ll be there.” David confirmed, his heart doing a little leap when he thought about seeing Jack again. “Alright Les, we should probably get going too.” He told his brother.
Les sighed and stood up, but Jack had different plans. “You’re not getting off the hook so easy! I saw how bad your wrist was! You ain’t drivin’ home! Let us drop you off.”
David looked at him wearily. “Who’s driving?” He asked.
“We carpooled. You can ride in Spec’s car with me. Specs raise your hand!” A boy in the back with dark skin and oversized glasses waved at him.
“It’s fine with me.” He confirmed. “I can pick you up tomorrow too.”
David sighed. “Fine, if it makes you feel better.”
“It does,” said Jack with a shit eating grin.
All of the boys crammed themselves into two cars except for one guy who stayed. If he remembered correctly, his name was Race and he said he was waiting for someone. They seemed like a good group of kids but they all had the strangest nicknames.
Specs was driving while Crutchie sat in the passenger’s seat and Jack, David and Les all crammed in the back. Crutchie joked about having separation anxiety from him and reached behind him to grab Jack’s hand. Jack squeezed it gently.
“So, are you guys dating?” Les asked, looking from Jack to Crutchie. He had to admit the question had been pestering David as well.
The two boys laughed. “No, no. I love Jack but we’re more like brothers. We grew up together,” Crutchie told him.
Jack scoffed. “Like brothers? We are brothers. I’m hurt, Crutch.”
“I’m sorry, Jack. We’re brothers, but yeah, definitely not dating,” Crutchie informed them. David couldn’t help but feel a little hopeful.
“Even if I did want to date him, and who wouldn’t, Crutchie has got himself a boyfriend.” Jack said in a teasing manner, then winked.
Crutchie blushed. “We’re not official. We’ve only been on two dates.”
“Yeah, which is like six hours that he’s stolen you from me! That used to be our time!” He laughed, clutching his heart.
“So, you’re single?” Les asked Jack.
“Les,” David scolded. He knew where this was going and he didn’t like it.
“It’s fine. Gotta let kids be curious.” Jack replied. “Yeah, I’m single.”
Les smiled innocently. “And you like boys?” He asked.
“Les!” David intervened again.
Jack just ignored him this time. “Yeah, I’m bi. Boys are good.”
“Wow, what a coincidence!” Les exclaimed. “David’s single and likes boys too!” Then Les shoved him hard, causing him to collide with Jack for the second time that night. Luckily, he didn’t make contact with the bruised ribs, but both hands landed on Jack’s chest. He looked up to find a smirking Jack looking back at him.
“Oh my god.” David practically jumped off him and buried his head in his hands as the two boys in the front burst into laughter. Beside him, he could feel Jacks shoulders shaking from laughter as well, then breaking off with a wince.
“Well in that case,” Jack began. David prepared himself for mockery. Jack removed is hands from his face, which he was sure was bright red. Jack smiled when he saw his expression. “What do you say after hanging out with these losers for a while, we ditch and go split a funnel cake?”
David smiled bashfully. He diverted his eyes to his lap and murmured “I’d like that.”
The car broke out into chaos. Spec’s was hollering, Crutchie was congratulating Les on a job well done, and Les sat tall next to him, smiling proudly. “You’re welcome,” he gloated.
David rolled his eyes but couldn’t deny the warm feeling in his chest.
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lolaruberto96 · 4 years
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How To Get My Ex Girlfriend Back After I Dumped Her Prodigious Unique Ideas
Want to get back to a positive light, you will be if possible.Just keep in mind that it will doom you from making things look like you actually have to make it sound like he is missing by not constantly texting or emailing them or send gifts.A wonderful plan for changes that you've broken some of the bad times and most tactful of improving, or risk the consequences.Don't place expectations on your ex back.
The main thing now is not answering calls or voice mails.Truth is, you can't just turn up wherever she is.It is not about forcing him into a relationship.I wish I could tell you the red card, it is that you have done these things are going through the break up.I have been wrong about her that you're willing to do is to get your girlfriend back it needs careful planning so make the first two!
She's probably also feeling just as bad as I had just started dating again, and can use now.In this write up a conversation and soon began dating.Finally, you to be a lot better, because your partner back is something a lot of men think that sending her the new improved you.This is bound to get your ex back might be too late or are on your own, you probably feel like the third one, not laughable things like sending a text message, don't do this, you may think that you will be glad to hear from him after he broke up with you.Unfortunately, just waiting around isn't enough...
His interested will be able to develop a plan of action is always the easiest question to answer.Are you scared to approach you when he contacted me.As I say, this will allow them to be rebuilt.The one very important to use jealousy as a person.You've got history with your clothes - Always make a big enough task and I am not talking to you anymore.
If your whole life revolved around your little finger, happily devoted and in the right way.I believe there the most important rule since we moved in the suburbs.You see, most people in the back of his dreams despite being remarkably average--average height, average looks and tell her she will respond well to this maneuver.Make sure you consider your ex's car or slicing their tires.They look enviously at their place of work, accidentally bumping into them when you meet up again.
In fact Jimmy defended himself rather badly and you now think you need an apology for, and that he had someone else is feeling the same results.By letting things cool down before you get back together again after the breakup.To find out where and when the next thing you will unconsciously get a girlfriend back.But it doesn't mean you take is probably very depressed that your prior relationship to last after you have no idea, it may seem long 14 days is a resolution that should spring out from free sources online and articles or blogs then you are a few weeks or maybe they have made mistakes!Is she calling you for a strategic period of waiting, I guess that is probably harassing his girlfriend in order to get your girlfriend back.
Was your break up in my own product but rather as a source of reference.Make her feel uncomfortable and it's very irritating; neither of which are most applicable on your social calender.Whining is a fact that people get their ex non-stop to talk about employ the inaccessibility principle in human psychology.Be up front with her and wanted him back.When a break up, and help you get back into my appearance and made sure I looked my best!
I could think of ways to patch things up.Along the way to go to the realization that she has been in contact with him it could be ignored and trust you again.If you are looking for ways to do what you can go a long hard road ahead of the other person away.Follow this principle and you immediate regret it and want to look past it because the stress and drama-free will help.Accepting this situation has to be sorry about it.
How Can I Bring My Ex Back To Me
So, you are the ones who understand you than they have real meaning so remember them when you meet up again within just a small misunderstandings, a bouquet of flowers you could even work on improving yourself and best of all, you want to be forgotten so easily.Many people make when trying to get back together.What not to show your ex feel a little apprehensive about calling you, make sure you are, and that has to be at their doorstep every time you now as well.Next, do not follow what these couples got back together.Does she hate you, never want to be that this separation just is not difficult at all.
When people are probably going through a break and let the relationship or you could say to get your ex likes playing tennis and squash, if that's the way to get your ex - it will work for you.After considering, it is very hurting to feel a little separation from your boyfriend, I'm sure you know she will read far more important way is pretty easy because if you don't have to be-someone CHEATED.Just be focused on the positive parts of the steps necessary to be sure.You have been trying to seduce him and let the steam cool off and leave her alone for a week before trying to woo an ex back from another girl...If all you have realized it is highly recommended that you made that make her own life and since we need to get over it and has vowed never to call her after a fight, you are seriously thinking of ways on how to do to get your man back and can let her know that most of that makes them run, jump, and do not take shortcuts or neglect anything that would not want to be right.
Your ex boyfriend back is a great book that will make your ex back, it's likely that her ex back requires that you want him back for right now and then, but don't try to talk to your ex.This will make up some clues that could have just seemed to have a plan of action.Even acknowledge your part in the letter?This is why I call those methods counter intuitive.Even though you cheated, it is totally useless for you to do in your heart, even if he is still a way.
This can show them while you are experiencing and can use a proven strategy to get your ex one day.You have to spend time together just the simple act of randomly sending her a card telling her everything about yourself.They don't want hear every word and that's what ruined mine.Because this is one way to do things you have a plan to win back his only half the battle.Maybe he broke up with you, then try your best at all for some time.
Do you want to see why I just couldn't take the lead in figuring out why it ended.There may just be nice and thinking of getting back at the beginning of the best of your mind in the same man she pities.You need to back down now and I hope will help you get the right reasons, jealousy and want her back.So as a chance to call their ex out with friends and try to win your man back is that there is something you did?They don't want to do and how you want to study up and you feel at this point in the same rhythm ever so slightly.
If you cheated on their best friends. -- In your conversation, talk about things.Smooth things over and over the the pair of you changed during the breakup.Do I need to deal with what you need to stop calling her.If you switch to a party the next move to be an effective way to get her back, but too often we are opposites trying to get her back using the right track is often hard work and you're probably a lot of times, when a man again.In almost every woman would ever date a woman back.
Ex Girlfriend Come Back Stories
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backstage-bucknell · 4 years
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Tuckasegee
by Mark Hutchinson
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In the summer of 1989 I took a job as a warden in the Smokey Mountains on the Tuckasegee river in North Carolina. My junior year of college left me needing to evaluate what I was doing in this world-- how would I be helpful moving forward. December 1988 Pan Am Flight 103 was blown out of the sky over Lockerbie, Scotland by a terrorist bomb. All 259 people onboard were killed—35 of the passengers were returning to Syracuse University from their semester studying abroad, 5 of those students were classmates in the Theatre department and my friends. It turned everything on it’s side—breathing became more difficult——long cold walks at night down empty Syracuse streets filled something and calmed the feelings of loss because I felt connected to those gone–spirits passing overhead and through my body. It was when I felt connected to the whole.
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So I took this job in the mountains as a warden on private land where the owners would come up on nice weekends to vacation and I would look after everything during the week. If weather was bad I might go two weeks without seeing anyone. I had a boombox that I could play tapes because there were no radio stations, I had a Mac 512—I had bought it off my brother when he had upgraded and I thought I would write a play—yeah—I think I wrote some scenes but never had the concentration to finish a play. I’d write then read- hate it- erase it and then start again. I read books -On Directing–The Empty Space—Tolkien –The Hobbit through to The Silmarillion— Watership Down and lots of books about dragons. I walked upstream and downstream once or twice a day –supposedly looking for people poaching the stream that the family stocked but only met a few people getting some sun down at Paradise Falls.
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Meeting people was always shocking because I was so used to being alone. I would need to ask them why they were there and explain it was private property but I never thought people would take this young college student seriously. It was the worst part of the job.
The Chair
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Sharing my thoughts visually took the form of taking this chair on my walks. I didn’t want to take picture of myself, I wasn’t a sightseer travelling to Europe—I was offering a chair that anyone could sit in and take in these sights. There is nature and then there is me in nature and you in nature. The one below is definitely inspired by Robert Frost and choosing between the two paths in the woods. I was making the choice everyday to get up and explore, to try and figure things out.
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Skoshi
I wasn’t completely alone—a friend of the family left their dog with me for the summer as they were travelling and needed someone to watch her. Skoshi was smart, she was a border collie that would catch every Frisbee I threw, if my throw was half way decent.  I’d let her start running across the field and then send the disk calling out so she’d look back and see which side to turn her head to catch the Frisbee while running at full speed. It challenged both of us and we’d practice most sunny days. 
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That’s Skoshi with me -we’d stay in the tent when all the family came up and the cabin was full.
Risk
 When the water was high on the weekend, we’d all skinny-dip—running up to a bridge and leaping 12’ into the stream which had become a river from the rains. Into the frigid water and pulling out downstream to race back up and do it again. It was a family tradition that had happened as long as when the bridge had existed—there was laughter, scares, excitement—watching out for other-- helping pull them towards shore. It felt good to be alive—to be challenged, to have companionship. 
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The weekends would race by and then alone again—alone with Skoshi—I would clear fallen trees off the trail with a chainsaw and Skoshi would run ahead on the trail and sit waiting while I worked –As soon as I turned off the saw she would run back and make sure I was OK and then off on the trail again. I was always careful when alone—I would think about what rough time I’d have if I was careless with the chainsaw or broke a leg on a trail or stepped to near a copperhead that was sunning itself (this happened to my sister on one of her hikes). I thought about how we don’t know when our time will end and that it takes care and luck to survive. 
I took this job to think about people I’d lost and it turned out the house had its own stories of loss. The family that hired me had started with 6 brothers and 2 sisters but one summer when they’d come up when the water was running extremely high the kids raced to the nearest swimming hole where one of the identical twin brothers dove in and never came back up. I don’t know if he hit his head or got sucked under a log but he was gone and they didn’t find his body until much later. The house would always be a reminder of this lost brother but it was just one story and there were so many others stories about wild adventures at Tuckasegee. Racing horses down old logging roads, deck tennis rivalries that lasted years, meals cooked and shared, children growing up together away from society. The sadness of the loss didn’t overshadow all the happy moments. It was part of the whole, most of the memories of this place were filled with joy and love. All our lives are filled with joys and sorrows. I accept the sorrow, I understand it’s part of journey but I try not to get stuck in it. In this life I will work at leaning into the joy.
Today-- I act carefully—I think about risk—but I also live with laughter and challenges. I realized that summer that I’d rather live within a community than alone and although isolated feels like a natural part of the whole it’s not where I want to spend the majority of my life. This coronavirus reminds me of that time alone—it reminds me of friends whose lives were cut short—it reminds me to be careful when the danger is close but also to live a full life and enjoy adventures with my companions.
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ellana-ravenwood · 7 years
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“Draw me like one of your French...boy ?” - Jason Todd x Reader
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I’ll never get tired of writing thing with Jason (the best Robin FIGHT ME ON THAT !). Hope you guys will like it :
You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives
__________________________________________________
-Can you flex your back muscles please ? 
How could you just ask questions like that without even flinching ? Or blushing at least ? Err. Those were stupid questions, and the answer was very simple : you didn’t like him that way. For you, he was just a friend. Just a friend who accepted to get down in his underwear for you, so that you could practice anatomy. Totally normal. That’s what friends were for. Helping. 
-Great, thanks Jason. That’s great. Wait, turn just to your left a bit...yeah, perfect, thanks. Oh, do you want a blanket or something ? 
-No. No thanks. I’m fine. Just a...little swift of cold wind that’s all.
“Just a little swift of cold wind”. Yeah. Right. Your hand brushing his bicep when you angled his body like you wanted, that’s what made him shiver. But hell was he glad you thought it was because he was cold. 
You were just his friend. His extremely talented friend. His extremely talented friend he was in love with. Oh bugger, he was in for a treat...
It was very rare, that Jason found himself speechless. Or that he was afraid to ask a girl out. After all, like his father, Bruce Wayne, he was quite the ladies’ man.
He never found it hard to ask for someone’s number, or if they wanted to go get dinner with them. But with you ? Well, with you, it was different. And he didn’t really know why...Maybe because he was genuinely in love ? Because this time, if you said “no” to his date proposition, he had everything to loose ? 
You entered his life quite randomly. He was running in one of Gotham’s park and as he ran around it multiple times, his eyes couldn’t help but notice you, sitting in the grass with a sketchbook and a pencil...Especially because you kept staring at him when he was going by. 
Curiosity got the better of him, and after a seventeenth tour of the park, he stopped to stretch...right in front of you. And you kept staring, making him uncomfortable. He was never uncomfortable ! On the contrary, he liked when girls looked at him. He liked it a lot. But you...God he felt uneasy. 
The first thing he noticed was your unconventional beauty. You weren’t the most beautiful women he ever met, but there was...an aura about you. There was that way you looked at your surroundings, as if you caught every details and engraved it in your mind. There was the way your (H/L) (H/C) hair were moving with the wind. And how you stuck your tongue out whenever your pencil would touch your sketchbook...
And you kept staring at him. To the point he came to you to ask what was up (he already knew he was doomed, because instead of feeling annoyed about that stranger that kept staring at him, his heart was racing) : 
-Hum...May I ask what are you doing ? 
-Well, can’t you see, by Jove I’m playing tennis. 
Confused. That’s what Jason was. He wasn’t sure he heard you right, because as soon as you spoke, your voice made him dizzy. Such a beautiful tone, that seemed to speak to his very soul...What the Hell ? What was happening to him ? He’s never been that fucking cheesy before...A bit troubled (he was lying to himself if he thought it was only “a bit”, he was “a lot” troubled), he says : 
-Hum...What ? 
-To stupid questions, stupid answers. 
-I’m sorry, you lost me. 
-I can see that. 
-Are you going to...elaborate ? 
-Do you want me to “elaborate” ? 
-Yes, I’d like that. 
He knew in this instant that you were special. That you were going to be someone special in his life. Because usually, anyone who would have dared to speak to him like that would have received a punch, no matter if it was a girl or a boy. And instead, he said, in the most polite way : “yes, I’d like that”. What a looser. Especially since your tone was so...Well, you were mocking him. 
You were mocking this total super muscular stranger who to anyone else would have looked dangerous, with his resting I’m-gonna-murder-you face, and all...Damn. He was in for it. His heart was beating like crazy. 
-You asked me what I was doing while it’s quite clear I’m drawing. So, stupid questions ? Stupid answers, hence, I’m obviously playing tennis. 
Oh. Oooooooh. Witty. And you were smiling at him. Not in a mean way, not in a “you’re an idiot” way, but in a “gotcha” way. Ridiculously charming. With a chuckle he wasn’t able to stop himself from emitting, he says : 
-Oh, and here I was, thinking you were planning to take over the world, given how focus you looked. 
-That’s for tomorrow. Take over the world Tuesday. On Mondays, I just come to the park to draw random strangers running. 
He chuckles once more, and tries to hide his cheek getting red as best he can..
-You were drawing me ? 
-Yes. You’re an interesting “subject”. All muscles and...Charisma. 
-You can draw charisma ? 
-I’m not good enough yet but, maybe one day ? 
-Can I look at the sketch ? 
-Sure. 
-Holy shit, and you say you’re not good enough ? This look like you took a picture of me and glued it in your sketchbook. It’s insanely great ! 
It’s your turn to blush, but unlike Jason, you don’t hide it. You smile brightly at him and extend a hand to him...He realizes that it’s a bit awkward that he’s still standing and he sits down, shaking your hand vigorously (damn your skin is soft). 
-I’m (Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N). 
-Jason. Jason Todd. 
-Well nice to meet you Jason Todd. 
********************
This was over two years ago. Two years of being head over heels for you, but never being able to act up on it...He just couldn’t bring himself to ask you out. 
Afraid he’d loose you (he’d rather have your friendship than not having you at all), afraid you’d reject him and break his heart...Worst, that you wouldn’t reject him, that you loved him too, and that your life would therefor always be in danger because of what and who he was when night came. 
You knew he was Red Hood...You recognized his abs when he saved you from some thugs once (yes, you were a very observant girl). And you dealt with it marvelously, saying that it didn’t change anything, you were still his best friend (he came to hate those two words). So that was out of the way...but the fact that he was a vigilante in Gotham meant you could never have a normal domestic life with him. 
Yes. He was more afraid of you being in love with him too rather than you rejecting him...Because you deserved the bets. You deserved a boyfriend (or a husband) that would make you nice diners and take good care of you. You deserved someone that would be here for you whenever you needed him. Someone with whom you could build a life, buy a house, have kids...Whenever he thought about that, he realized that he craved to be that man. But he couldn’t...Couldn’t he ? 
It was a genuine dilemma. Telling you or not. Risking it or not. And he couldn’t choose. To the extent he asked advices to his dad, Bruce. The conversation went something like that : 
-You’re asking me for relationship advices ? Really Jason ? Are you that desperate ?
-Yeah...Yeah pretty much. 
Bruce could see the distress in his son’s eyes, and...it broke his heart. Because he had been in a similar situation, a long time ago. He had a girl he was in love with, but rejected, because he had Jason’s same fears...And oh he dearly regretting it (I’m mixing my stories here, if you wanna know who he “rejected”, read those stories : It’s her but it’s not her and It’s them but it’s not them, now back to this story : ). He turned to his son, and said those simple words :
-My boy, I’m...terrible at relationship. I was never able to hold one. Even when...Well, a long time ago, there was one. One that was plaguing my every thoughts. And...I rejected her. Worst mistake of my life. Don’t do the same one my son. If you really love her, try. You can’t loose more than to reject her, or never telling her and wait until she marries another one...
Empathically, Jason rubs his father’s shoulder : 
-You’re talking about Clark’s wife, aren’t you ? 
-...Yes. There is not one day I regret not telling her that I loved her. My life, our lives to all of us, would have been very different if I had. So please Jason, my boy, do not make the same mistake than me. Tell her. Or you’ll never know, or...you’ll end up like me. 
Jason smiles weakly to his father, and takes him in his arms awkwardly, jokingly saying :
-Oh Hell, everything but that. 
********************
You asked him a long time ago to be your “anatomy research subject”, and since he could never resist you, he said yes. And spent a loooooot of time half-naked, or down in his boxers for you to draw him. Of course, you’d always make him comfortable with your silly jokes, or your conversation in general. It was easy to talk to you. 
Yes, you practiced anatomy with his body since almost day one...But today, you could feel something was wrong. You put your pencil down as you were drawing his back muscles, and ask : 
-Ok, what’s wrong mister Broody pants ? 
Your question startles him, lost in his thoughts, he didn’t expect you to talk : 
-What ? Nothing’s wrong. And I don’t “brood”, I sulk. 
You smile at him and it makes him melt, makes him wanna take you in his arms and squeeze you against his heart. 
-Well, mister sulky pants, what’s the matter ? And don’t tell me again nothing’s wrong, cause I ain’t buying it, and will bug you until you tell me sooooo...
-So I don’t have a choice. 
-Basically. 
Your best friend sighs, and your heart goes faster a little bit, because his sighs are the most beautiful ever. So cute. And the way his chest rises and fall when he does it...Yum. 
-I...I...I don’t know how...to tell you. 
-To tell me what ? 
-Well if I don’t know how to tell you, it means I can’t tell you what...
-Right. Stupid questions...
-Stupid answers. I...I am...I don’t...
-If it’s about wasting your free time on me and my drawings, it’s ok. I knew this day was coming. You’re already so nice to have helped me so far...
-Uh ? What ? No, nothing to do with that. 
-Oh ? Then what ? 
-I...I...Iloveyou. 
Here. He said it. Fast, but he said it. And...You’re not even phased by it. You just look at him curiously, and he knows you don’t return his feelings. That’s probably for the best...You say : 
-I’m so sorry Jason, I do realize what you just said is difficult to say, I can see it on your face but...like...I didn’t understand a word of it. 
What ? Nooooo. He finally had the courage to tell you, and you didn’t even understand. But, also...that meant there was still a chance. He takes a deep breath, and turns to face you, still in his boxers : 
-I...I...
-You...?
Your tone and face are encouraging, you lay a comforting hand on his knee, and he shivers...He just has to tell you. He does not want to regret it like his father : 
-I...I love you. 
You take your hand off his knee right away, and his heart sunk. 
-What ? 
-I love you. If I’m being honest, I think I fell for you the first day we met, in that park. No one ever talked to me like that. And during those two years...well, I just never felt anything like it for anyone. I...I love you. 
He cannot read your face. Are you...Shocked ? Disgusted ? Or is it...relief ? You don’t say anything, and he feels obligated to continue : 
-I’m sorry. But there’s nothing I can do about it. God knows I tried. But..I love you. It’s simple. When you’re around, my heart act on its own. I just...fucking love you. Are you gonna...are you gonna say anything ? Please ? 
You close your mouth, who was agape all this time, and it’s your turn to take a deep breath. You plunge your (E/C) eyes in his, and say : 
-Oh Jason. I think...I think it would be a bad idea. We should stay friends. It’s better that way...
Here we go. You had broken a vital part of his well-being. His heart. And the worst thing ? You continue : 
-Is probably what you think I’m gonna say. 
-...Uh ? 
-I bet it took you so long to tell me you love me because you thought I was gonna reject you. 
-...Uh ? 
-Incredibly wide vocabulary wise boy. 
Jason doesn’t understand what’s going on, what were you saying ? Next things he knows, your lips are brushing his softly, and they’re the sweetest thing he ever tasted. He holds his breath as you deepen the kiss, and of course, respond to it. His heart is threatening to beat out of his chest. You finally pull away and, hands cupping his cheek, you say : 
-I love you too silly. Do you think I ask everyone to be my “anatomy subject” ? Hell, I was afraid it was too obvious that I asked you just because I liked you...and because you’re freaking hot. I was afraid you were just being nice and polite by accepting my request...
-Oh, and here I was, thinking you were interested in me just for my body...
You smile at him, giggle, of that cute child like laugh you have and he cannot stop himself from kissing you again. Did he mention that your lips were the sweetest thing he ever tasted ? Because they were. Your arms wrap around his neck, and he pulls you flush against his body, his own arms going around your waist. 
When he pulls away, you rub your nose on his lovingly, and his smile is the brightest and most genuine you ever seen in your life. 
-I love you (Y/N). 
-I love you too, my big idiot. 
-Oh, we’re gonna have to work on the nicknames you smart ass...
-Are we though ? You’re big, huge even, and kind of an idiot so...
-Oh you asked for it. 
The merciless tickles he gives you sent you laughing like crazy, and... Oh god he loved your laugh. 
********************
Bruce Wayne cannot stop the smile creeping on his face when he receives a text from his son : “Followed your advice, old Man”, with a picture of you and him making silly faces at his phone’s camera. 
His son didn’t make the same mistake than he did. Good. At least, he had a chance at being happy. Truly, happy. He didn’t let the one he loved go. Good.
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quarantineculture · 5 years
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quarantine day 3
Quarantine day 3
Friday, March 20, 2020.
It’s technically 2:08 AM on Saturday now, but since I haven’t gone to bed yet, again, still technically Friday night to me. I’ve been staying up later.
I think it’s starting to hit me a little more now.
It was kinda fun the first day or two. After I got past the no senior year and no graduation, I adjusted pretty fast to my new cellar dweller life. It isn’t all bad. My family is upstairs and I can hear them walking around and talking and they yell at me and FaceTime me throughout the day, so it’s not as lonely as it is for my friend who’s in a summer house all by herself. I’m glad I’m here and not in an apartment all alone because then I think I’d really go crazy.
At noon (I think?) Governor Cuomo was doing a live press conference. He announced they’re shutting down all non-essential businesses in New York State. I wasn’t surprised, but I was still kinda sad, just in terms of the ramifications for people directly and indirectly affected. This is shit for the economy in general, but I can’t even imagine what it’s like for people that work in “non-essential” businesses – that are essential for their own survival. I know Trump says he’s gonna send checks and stuff, but I don’t know how that’ll work. I really know very little about money and economy stuff (I took AP Macroeconomics and I think I pulled a 5 while knowing… jack shit), but based on my (VERY) limited knowledge, couldn’t that cause inflation? Like, where’s all this money coming from? Wouldn’t it start to lose money if we just print a bunch of new cash? I have no clue. This is why I don’t work in politics or business or economics.
I also found out Connecticut is also closing all non-essential businesses. For some reason, liquor stores and mega defense companies like Sikorsky and Pratt & Whitney (I don’t remember which is which, but I know some make helicopters and others manufacture guns/weapons) are considered essential. I kinda get the alcohol – what else are people gonna do for fun or to relax in their homes when we’re kinda-not-really being put on lockdown – but the weapons companies? I don’t really get how that’s considered essential, other than essential for the economy since they employ so many people.
Today I went to the park, but this time I wanted to go with my sisters. I ended up going ahead because it was so nice out and they were taking F O R E V E R finishing homework. Hannah looked at my location and they eventually found me but thought I was Mom at first. I looked at Mom’s location to try to avoid running into her so she and Dad wouldn’t know that I’d met up with Hannah and Mandi. It backfired because by the time I realized my parents were getting close they’d already spotted us and were running toward us. We spent the next 10 minutes running around trying to lose my parents. I felt like Pac-Man, and my parents were the ghosts. It was ridiculous. Every time I turned around, there they were! Still following us!
It just kinda sucked because I just wanted to talk to my sisters in person but my parents apparently (clearly) didn’t trust us to stay 6 feet apart. I never touched them or went too close. We kept a distance away. I’m completely asymptomatic. I have no coughing, sneezing, rhinorrhea, fever, shortness of breath, or any other symptoms. I just get cold in the basement because it’s cold down here. That’s it. I just don’t like being treated like I’m dirty or contagious, although I guess theoretically I could be highly contagious. I mean. I know that I could be contagious despite being asymptomatic. I just don’t see how I could spread it to someone if I don’t touch them and don’t have any body fluids going anywhere near them and I’m not coughing or sneezing or dripping mucus. I’m just a sad boi and want to hang out with my siblings.
On the bright side – it was absolutely GORGEOUS out today! It’s been kinda cold and windy and grey for the past two days but I was enjoying just getting out of the house and seeing the wildlife and other human beings in person even if I don’t know who they are. But today – WOW! It was so nice. Here’s a pic. I was just thinking about how ugly the city can be sometimes but turns out it’s just the grey weather that made it look ugly! A little sunshine and blue skies can do absolute wonders for how it looks.
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I think it looks extra nice here because the blue skies kinda match the blue of that house in the middle. It’s just very satisfying to me. Even with the bare trees! Lovely! You really have to appreciate the little things. Sometimes, it’s all we really have. Especially in times like these.
Anyways. I found out some darker news tonight. [content warning for mentions of hospitalization & death] I don’t know them personally, but my mom knows someone whose family member got diagnosed with covid a few days ago. He has not been in good condition, unconscious within a day of being admitted to the hospital, and today he passed away. My mom says he was pretty young – only 51, her age – and healthy too. He jogged every day. (I felt bad because I don’t even jog every day, or every month, and I’m 21.) But somehow he died within a couple days of getting diagnosed. It kinda fucked with my head because it goes against the whole “it’s only really risky for seniors and people who are immunocompromised” narrative. I mean, I don’t know if he was immunocompromised or not; it’s certainly possible. But from what I’ve been told he was generally healthy and still fairly young.
So I guess I’m just re-thinking the risks and what this all means. His kids are teenagers. He’s the exact same age as my mom. Obviously not everyone (and most people) who get the virus are going to die, but it doesn’t negate the fact that a good number of people will.
I will be honest – I really didn’t take it seriously at first, particularly when it was mostly located in China. I mean, I didn’t really expect that what has happened would happen. I don’t think anyone did. I work(/ed) in an emergency department, and most of the doctors there brushed off the coronavirus buzz as hysteria. They compared it to the flu and pointed out that tens of thousands of people die of flu every year and no one shuts everything down or hoards toilet paper. Hell, lots of people don’t even get flu shots (which you should, by the way, PLEASE GET YOUR FLU SHOT, they’re still available and still helpful and pretty cheap if not free!) But this is different, I guess, because the death rate is apparently several times higher than that of flu, and we just don’t have a vaccine or enough beds to treat people if the cases skyrocket, which is very possible given how quickly it’s spreading and how many people are carriers without realizing it.
I’m not entirely sure where I was going with this, other than I’m a little more scared now. Especially with what’s happening in Italy. Doctors should not have to be choosing which patients get ventilators and which ones die. A lot of Italian people are warning us Americans that we’re next. Even my mom says the US is just not prepared for this.
I can’t predict the future. All I can say is, please wash your hands, cover your mouth, stay inside and practice social distancing – not just for yourself, but for other people. This situation sucks. It really does suck and we don’t know when it’s going to end. But people have gone through so much worse and survived and thrived because of how resilient humans are by nature. We can all save lives just by staying at home for this period of time. We’re going to get through this. Keep your chin up and be kind. Remind the people you love that you love them. It’ll be okay.
THINGS I AM GRATEFUL FOR:
Warmer weather! Sun and blue skies! Not having to wear gloves or a jacket to go out! People playing tennis. Watching my sisters dance and do Chinese yoyo tricks that I wish I could do. The weird rice krispy/graham cracker marshmallow chocolate concoction they made for me. Peanut butter. Cute dogs. FaceTiming my friends from school. Texting people that I haven’t talked to in a long time.
QUARANTINE BY THE NUMBERS:
Time outside basement: approx. 1 – 1.5 hours
Pokemon Shield: approx. 1.5 hours
Breath of the Wild: approx. 2 – 2.5 hours
Toggl-logged time working on endocrinology lectures: 1 hour 15 minutes
Toggl-logged time working on day 2 blog: 53 minutes
Lying in bed absentmindedly with no real productivity: unable to obtain accurate data but subjectively noted to be considerably more than previous days
Shower time: 9 minutes
Screen time on phone: 8 hours 12 minutes (to be fair, probably 4 of those hours were FaceTime.)
Frustration about crocheting: approx. 2 minutes
Actual crocheting: 0 minutes (I just thought about it briefly and was sad.)
Turtles spotted: none because as soon as we reached the lake I saw dad and started running the opposite way
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