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#i am once again apologizing for what i had to do to beard /j
eldritch-muppetshow · 2 years
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muppet central high!solid foam
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celosiaa · 4 years
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I dont know if you're taking prompts at the moment but when you have time if the idea interests you what about martin greying after their time in the apocalypse and growing a beard and being distressed because he looks like his father. jon comforts him and helps him feel better about his appearance. maybe some soft domestic comfort where jon helps martin dye his hair and shave the beard away to look like himself again.
hi friend!!! thank you for this prompt, it’s probably not perfect bc I wrote it really fast!! But I hope you like it anyway :)
CW panic attack
When Jon wakes, head still spinning in the light of the sun, Martin is once again gone. And Jon is so, so very tired.
Tired of the weariness, the deep ache that has settled so heavily in his bones he is unsure if he will ever truly shake it. Tired of the sapping away of his strength, as he attempts to rebuild, day by day by day even after a year has gone by since the end of all things.
Tired of waking up alone.
It’s a wonderful thing, in a way, to know that something is wrong with Martin rather than Knowing it—the realization that he is, in fact, able to discern when something is bothering the love of his life is a rather comforting fact, after everything. Even so, he finds himself frustrated. Frustrated with the fact that he cannot intuit the source of his husband’s distress, much less pull anything out of him.
Martin is shutting down. Plain as day. And it terrifies him.
Running a hand briefly over the Martin-shaped imprint beside him, long gone cold, Jon props himself up on too-slender arms, waiting a moment for the spots to clear from his vision, and standing on too-slender legs. At once, he reaches for his cane at the bedside, finding his injury sitting heavy in his hip this day—and heads quietly out of the room and into the hall.
If Jon had not known better, he would never have guessed that Martin were there at all. For the entirety of their normally-cozy, tiny little flat seems nothing but desolate and dustladen and darkening, ever darkening. Something Lonely creeping through every window sill, beneath the outside door, through the vents—
Streaming from the open bathroom door.
Of course, Jon had seen it coming for days, had tried to warn Martin of the fog carried on each of the few words he has spoken over the past few days. But it did not matter—Martin has often explained how muffled everything becomes while he finds himself once again in this place. Muffled and meaningless and fading, fading. Buried under guilt and fear and apologies, so many apologies that Jon could drown in them.
And now, perhaps—just perhaps, he might let him in. If the open door of the bathroom is a sign to be taken as hopeful.
“Martin,” he calls as he approaches the doorframe. “Habibi, are you alright?”
Upon looking in, he finds Martin leaning over the sink—staring with empty eyes back into the emptiness of his reflection in the mirror, fog swirling so thick beneath his glasses it’s a wonder he can see at all. The word that comes first to Jon’s mind is frozen—and he cannot help but hurt over just how long he has stood here, alone and in his private grief, limbs shaking ever so slightly in their static hold.
“Habibi,” he starts again—quieter this time, stepping a bit closer. “Look at me. I’m right here.”
He follows these words with resting a hand against his forearm—ever so gentle and cautious, yet Martin jumps bodily all the same.
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Jon continues, without moving his hand away.
“…what?” is the eventual reply, so dim and far away it echoes, swirling around Jon’s head dizzyingly.
“Look at me, Martin. Can you look at me?” he pleads, beginning to rub his hand up and down his forearm now, anything to create some warmth over his ice-cold skin.
“Jon.”
“Yes. Right here, please look at me.”
At last, at long last—Martin turns his face away from the mirror, the fog beginning to dissipate from his eyes as soon as he meets Jon’s. The ache of it all sends something twisting in his stomach, over the fact that this still happens so regularly, that Martin still struggles to be open, even with him, even after all this time.
And buries it.
“There you are,” he soothes as he slips a hand up and into his hair, beginning to stroke through it as Martin starts to come back to himself. “You with me?”
He blinks a few more times, slowly, strangely—before tensing suddenly beneath Jon’s hands, eyes blown wide as he gasps in a breath.
“J-Jon—”
“Easy. Easy, now,” he murmurs easily, grasping at his arm once again. “Just sit down. You’re alright.”
“Jon—”
“Sit down, my love.”
Back to the wall, Martin slides down to sitting braced against it—bowing his head between his knees at once, one hand against his throat as he gasps for something beyond the fog to fill his lungs. Jon steps over his feet—coming to rest on the side of the tub, leaning forward to keep a gentle pressure moving across his shoulders as he works through the panic. All too common panic, unfortunately.
“I’m here. I’m right here.”
As always, Jon feels so helpless here. He knows there is very little to be done but to sit and wait, talk if it helps, stop if it doesn’t, always keeping that contact to ground Martin in warmth. Every time his heart breaks—and every time he swallows the lump in his throat, no matter how thick with fog it may be.
“I’m right here.”
Several minutes pass this way, rapid breaths fading into rhythm, color returning back to Martin’s skin, the fog at at last dissipating into the floor beneath them. And finally—finally—Martin looks up, eyes just barely meeting Jon’s for a moment before he covers them in shame.
“God, I’m so sorry, Jon,” he croaks, scrubbing over his eyes as he speaks. “Happened again.”
“No need, habibi,” Jon replies, as always. “No need.”
And still the silence remains for a while, Jon’s hand never leaving Martin’s back, Martin’s hand never falling away from his eyes in his misery. It is in this moment, feeling his husband shaking beneath him for the third morning in a row, and the fourth this week, that Jon makes a decision.
“Martin,” he begins, pausing to worry at his lower lip for a moment. “Martin, please…please tell me why this is happening.”
“You don’t need to worry about it,” comes the terrible reply, the one that tells Jon there is so much hurt still left to heal in his soul.
“I am worried. And will continue to worry, because I love you.”
A small huff of laughter behind a ghost of a smile.
“I love you too,” he replies, as if still shocked he is allowed to say it.
“Then please—talk to me.”
“It’s silly—it’s nothing, I dunno why it’s bothering me so much,” he continues, at last letting the hand covering his eyes fall and rest atop his knee. “And—and I’m sorry it’s—it’s worrying you. But I’m alright.”
Yet another small and fragile thing shatters in Jon’s chest over this—this utter falsehood, that he would ever see Martin drowning in the Lonely and think only of himself. That he would ever think that way.
“I-I wouldn’t—this isn’t about me, Martin,” he assures, refusing to bely the hurt pushing against the steadiness of his voice. “I know that you are hurting. Please—please tell me why, and I will help.”
“Jon—”
“That’s all I want. Is to help.”
A moment—a long, terrible moment in which Jon cannot be sure he is trusted, cannot be sure he is ready to talk. That he will have to accept whatever the next breath brings, even if it hurts. Even if it hurts.
Please please please
“I—like I said, it’s silly, right?” Martin begins to choke out, tears rising immediately as he begins to speak. “I-I know it is. And I’m just going to sit here and blubber about it like a fool.”
“It’s not silly if it hurts you.”
“I—well, just—just wait till you hear it,” he says tremulously, letting out a terribly damp little laugh at the end, swiping at his eyes yet again. “It’s just that—with the, the grey, and the—beard, I—god—I look just like my dad.”
And there it is at last, the aching truth of it all. The trauma Martin would rather call silliness. The panic he would rather call a terrible display of dramatics. The tears he will apologize for in three, two—
“God, I’m so sorry,” he bursts through gritted teeth, trying desperately to make a noise sounding something like laughter.
“Martin—”
“It’s so silly, I—”
“Stop, stop.”
Catching both of Martin’s hands in his own, Jon grips them tightly, tilting his head in a gesture that begs Martin to look, please look at me. And when he does, eyes still brimming and barely holding together—it’s nearly enough to do Jon in altogether.
“It is not silly,” he begins forcefully, gently. “You have every right to feel upset by this. This—this pain makes sense—and it is real, and it is justified. Alright?”
The damp smile Jon receives in return is enough to tell him that Martin does not really believe him, perhaps he never will—but that his words are appreciated all the same.
“Now listen. There are some things we could do that might help, alright?” he continues, starting to massage Martin’s hands gently as the tears begin to fall in earnest, trying to keep his shoulders from shaking. “I could—I could help you dye it. Any color at all. And—only if you want—I can help you shave. If you think it might help.”
A laugh—a real, if still damp, laugh comes from him then—cast in the glow of a genuine smile. As it always has and always will—it sets Jon’s heart fluttering with love for this man, for his anchor—for his love. For his always.
“Yeah, I—heh—” he begins, swiping away the remaining wetness with another laugh. “Early thirties is a bit young to go grey, I reckon.”
“Is it now?” Jon teases at once, a grin spreading wide across his face, tossing his own greying hair over one shoulder. “Is that young to go grey?”
“Oh come off it,” Martin says, rolling his eyes, bumping a shoulder against Jon’s leg. “You know what I meant.”
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gingerreggg · 3 years
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Caesar’s sandals made a soft rustle with each careful step he made along the sand.
He was old, and weary, and at this point a mere shell of his strength and vigor of his youth. His once-golden hair, grizzled to a silvery hue with age, was a crown he bore with a sense of accomplishment– he knew his days of glory were past him, but to him his elder years was of no cause of grief, and still sought to live every day he had to the fullest.
Even in his older years, he still was fond of taking walks on the beach. He reveled in the orange light of the setting sun, the smell and sound of the ocean, the feel of the breeze. Sensations of his youth, when he made a living fishing by this very coast.
Sensations full of memories, of a loved one long since absent but never forgotten. 
And how could Caesar possibly forget? For not every man was blessed with the privilege of having loved a merman.
Oh, those were the days, he thought to himself, with a nostalgic chuckle. Of all the wonderful times they spent together. Of all the adventures they faced side by side. Of all the tender moments he spent with him, someone to hold him close in times of lonesome darkness, something he never thought he would feel…let alone from a being he once thought was a figment of his imagination.
He never knew if he would ever see Jojo again.
With a sigh, the old once-fisherman stared out to the sea, and began to walk towards it. He enjoyed wading into the shallows, feeling the waves lapping at his feet, granting him some comfort, for even after all those years, the feel of the ocean was strangely reassuring, almost embracing, a sense of the familiar that he’d known most of his life.
He stood in the waist-deep water, staring out longingly toward the fiery glare of the evening sun. Casting the waves in a brilliant display of fire and water, resplendent even in its twilight– just as he himself was.
But as Caesar basked in the evening sea, he felt a presence, and knew he wasn’t alone.
A faint glow appeared beneath the surface from the direction of the sea, and began approaching in his direction. For a moment Caesar was alarmed, thinking it may be something dangerous. But there was something familiar about the glow, even if it was the wrong color: a deep, regal purple, instead of the sunny yellows that he recalled emanated from a certain beloved’s tail.
And before he could respond, something massive suddenly rose from the water, with a flash of violet light that glared at Caesar’s eyes, causing him to stumble back. His eyes struggled to adjust to the brilliance, but as they slowly did, Caesar beheld the majestic figure that was the source– and his jaw dropped in awe.
It was a merman, bigger than any he had ever seen in his life, clad only with a satchel of kelp and rope and his elegant face adorned with a thick, gray beard and long flowing hair, like what Caesar would expect from ancient paintings of the Roman gods of the sea. He pierced through the surface with a powerful splash in his wake, while behind him a violet tail, which he estimated to be nearly seven feet in length, emerged from the shallow waters with a tremendous flick of his fin.
For a moment Caesar was frightened. He’d never seen any of the mer, for decades now. They had all seemed to have disappeared, leaving Caesar to wonder where they went, what had become of them, or even if they were still around…and Caesar, surprised to suddenly see one in person so suddenly, was humbled by the noble, royal presence of the titanic lord of the ocean– until he glanced up to meet the merman’s gaze, and saw…those eyes.
Those unmistakable, blue-green eyes, filled with energy and exuberance and just a hint of childish mischief. Those warm, inviting eyes, crowned by thick, brushy eyebrows that Caesar remembered all too well.
“J-Jojo?” he stammered in disbelief, scrambling backwards up the wet sand. “Is that…you?”
The merman laughed, a deep, powerful, yet gentle and cheerful laugh. “I was worried you wouldn’t recognize your old chap!” he said in his rich, musical vocal tones, as he clambered up the beach with the power of his arms alone, and sat himself next to Caesar, still sitting in shock on the sand in a stupor of both surprise, fear and joy. “I see you and your funny pink cheek dots haven’t changed one bit!”
Without hesitation Caesar threw himself into Joseph’s arms and embraced him tightly, burying his face in the merman’s enormous chest. “Jojo! It…it really is you!” he cried weeping rejoicing tears, as the merman embraced him back with one arm, while parting his hair with the other– exposing the back of his neck and revealing the star-shaped mark that Caesar recognized in an instant. “Jojo…”
“Well, by now many call me as King Joseph of the Joestar Clan,” he said in a somewhat boastful tone, “…but for you, I’ll make an exception,” he added with a warm chuckle. “I missed you too, Caesarino.” He may have looked very different, but he sure was Joseph all the same.
Caesar glanced up at the merman who towered above him even in a sitting position, and, at a better view, looked about fourteen feet from head to fin. “I never thought I’d ever see you again…”
“I am so very sorry,” Joseph apologized, resting his humongous hand on Caesar’s back with surprising strength and gentleness. “But since the trident was passed onto me…i’ve been dealing with a lot of royal business. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, they say…I have a kingdom that needs me.” he sighed.
“And why now, of all these years, did you choose to visit only now?” Caesar asked, half-angry at his absence, half-worried at his plight.
Joseph returned a smile, reassuringly. “Well, I had been planning to come back for a long time…but I thought I’d wait until…he was old enough to be on land and come meet you.”
“He…?” Caesar asked in confusion. “Who’s he?”
And, in answer to Caesar’s question, Joseph made a loud, gentle hum, like that of a whale’s song, and to the old fisherman’s amazement came a set of small ripples that rushed eagerly to shore before culminating in a splash at the water’s edge.
It was a tiny mermaid baby, who eagerly came flopping clumsily across the sand and into Joseph’s waiting arms. Caesar was amused by the little one’s resemblance to Joseph: he had the same brilliant blue eyes, same fierce brows and star-shaped mark on his neck, though his hair was an ebony black, just like his tail, which was adorned with golden-yellow fins.
“Caesar,” Joseph said proudly, as he held out the child toward him, “meet my grandson, Jotaro.”
“Grandson…?” Caesar replied in endeared admiration to the adorable little one, staring up at him with big, wide innocent eyes and making soft cooing sounds. Caesar gingerly held out a finger at the baby to stroke his hair. “Why, hello there, little fellow–”
“ORA!” cried Jotaro, smacking Caesar playfully in the face that caught the old man off guard, almost flooring him.
“OW!” Caesar grumbled. “He’s pretty strong for a young ‘un, isn’t he?” he asked, rubbing his face painfully. Joseph gave a hearty laugh.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, he likes to do that, a lot,” Joseph chuckled. “It just means he likes you!” Little Jotaro babbled cheerfully in agreement.
Caesar, recovering from the blow, gave a laugh as well. “Your arm strength sure runs in the family,” he said, recalling the times Joseph followed him along on strolls along the beach without the help of legs. “Just like how you used to when we went on walks.”
A grin crept across the old merman’s face.
“Say…why the heck not?” Joseph said, pulling himself up on the beach. “Just one more time, for old time’s sake?" 
"Come on, Joseph,” Caesar said, standing back up. “I doubt it’s very becoming of a King of the Sea to go flopping around on dry land. Besides, I’m not as strong or quick as I used to be. I’ve gotten old, Jojo.”
Joseph laughed. “Then I suppose I’ll finally have a chance to catch up with you! Come on, Jot!” he called to the little mer, who eagerly climbed up onto his grandfather’s mighty shoulders and clung on tight. “I’ve brought a bottle in my satchel to keep him wet!” He looked eagerly up at Caesar. “And besides, in the ocean I may be a king…but we’re on land, aren’t we? Here…I’m just your good old Jojo.” he said with a wink.
“The same old Jojo.”
Caesar gently stroked the merman’s silvery hair and knelt down beside him, gazing into his jewel-like eyes, as lovely as he’d always remembered them. “It’s great to have you back, Jojo.” Caesar said softly.
“And it’s wonderful to be with you again…Caesarino.” Joseph replied, their faces growing ever closer as they stared lost in each other’s eyes.
And with neither realizing it their lips instantly locked in a union of land and sea, of a love that knew neither time or distance. A kiss that filled both with a soothing, ecstatic warmth, of a kiss they never thought they would ever feel again, after so many years apart, of a love long lost…but never forgotten.
Except this time, there was someone watching.
“Yawwe yawwe,” mumbled little Jotaro with a yawn.
————
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diyunho · 4 years
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The Joker x Reader - “Ghost Driver” Part 2
When The Joker says you’re his, it means you’re essential to him because he needs your services for his own gain; it literally has zero affectionate connotations. Turbo is The King’s Ghost Driver and although she’s a legend, her life is far from perfect.
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Part 1
Four Days Afterwards, 7:47pm
“Good evening, madam. I am tonight’s entertainment,” Frost blurs out as soon as you open the door and instantly regrets his pun. “Sorry, that was stupid to say,” he apologizes.
The reason why you look puzzled is not his joke, but another motive: you never saw Jonny wearing anything else besides a suit or military gear; the fact that he’s standing in front of you wearing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt is quite intriguing.
“Hi,” you move aside so he can come in.
“Did I wake you up?”
“I fell asleep watching a movie,” Y/N smiles at his comfortable attire. “No big deal. Did Mister Joker send you?” the subtle question indicates you want to find out the reason for his visit.
“No... I was just thinking… maybe we could… and it’s entirely up to you, no pressure… maybe you would want to go and watch the fireworks with me. I have food and sleeping bags, plus an ice chest with drinks in my truck.”
You seem confused.
“Mmmm, you know what? Forget about it. That was completely idiotic to suggest,” Frost realizes that asking a freshly divorced woman to get out of the house after she was kidnapped and starved into her ex’s basement only four days ago it’s not the most brilliant idea he ever had.
“You had me at food and fireworks,” you wink at his insecurity. “The drinks sealed the deal. I’m confused on one detail: do I have to change or can I come in my PJ’s?”
“PJ’s are perfect.”
“Awesome!” you grab the keys from the coffee table. “Where exactly are we heading?”
“Fire Creek Hill, it’s one of the best spots to enjoy the view,” Jonny replies.
“Isn’t that closed to the general public?” Y/N inquires and his logic makes you laugh while exchanging your socks for flip-flops.
“I doubt we’re considered the general public. I had to pull some strings though,” he admits, overjoyed you actually agreed to accompany him.
Not that he shows it in any other way besides the invitation he barely mustered the courage to extend towards The Joker’s Ghost Driver.
*************
9:03pm  
“Oh, it’s starting!” you excitedly nibble on your Alfredo pasta.
The first fireworks bloom in the distance and Frost opens the cooler, pointing out the goodies he salvaged from the liquor store.
“Pick your poison: we have a bottle of premixed margarita, wine, whiskey, tequila and…,” he fumbles around,”…try to contain yourself: water!”
“You definitely bought some of my favorites , including the food. How did you guess?” the bubbly Y/N smiles.
“I pay attention,” Jonny mentions. “So what’s gonna be?”
“Margarita please,” you hold the plastic cup and can’t help snickering as he pours the liquid.
“What?” he suspiciously bites on his cheek.
“Nothing really… I was imagining you without the beard,” you decide not to keep it a secret.
“Damn!” Frost snorts. “I had it for years; didn’t consider shaving because our employer would freak out. Stop giggling, it’s not funny! He totally would!” Jonny elbows you.
“I bet you have a baby face underneath all that facial hair; if you shave I can promise a new nickname will arise: Baby- Face Frost.”
“Shut up!” he chuckles at your quirky proposal. “Yet I can’t deny it has a certain ring to it.”
“See what I mean? It might work!... Oh my God, that’s a huge one!” you gasp, distracted by the sparkling night sky. “What are they celebrating? 150 years since this piece of crap town was founded?”
“Apparently,” Jonny sighs and watches Y/N bundle up in the sleeping bag.
“Thank you for the feast,” your tone changes to a serious one. “I didn’t have this much fun in the back of a truck in a long time. Go ahead, laugh!” you pout at his reaction. “I’m aware how it sounds like; I didn’t mean it that way!!!”
“Still funny as hell!” Jonny is getting a kick out of the conversation.
“Psst! Hey, Casanova!” The Joker’s mop of green hair pop up from behind the car’s high railing.
“Mister Joker!” you get startled by his unexpected presence.
“Boss, what are you doing here?” Frost utters in disbelief.
“Why aren’t you answering your phone, huh?” J ignores his henchman’s inquiry.
“It’s in the glove compartment, sir. I’m enjoying the…”
“Pardon me for interrupting your date,” The King of Gotham huffs.
“We’re not on a date,” the attempted explanation gets cut short.
“Sell it to whoever wants to buy it,” The Joker growls at Jonny’s words. “I had to follow the signal from your cell and trace your location; what a marvelous bonus to find my Turbo also!”
The eerie grin makes you finally speak up:
“Do you need help with anything Mister J?”
“Do I?” he plays dumb. “Probably.”
Why does he have to ruin the night? Frost reflects, annoyed.
Nobody knows, but if he could spend ages in your company, he believes it would be an eternity well spent.
And The Joker had to ruin it.
Goddammit!
“Can you patch me up?” J takes of his jacket, revealing a blood stained shirt.
“What happened?” you and Jonny jump off the vehicle.
“I got myself in a little bit of a situation,” he grumbles. “It’s a clean wound; the bullet came out on the other side.”
“We should take you to the doctor, boos; you need stitches!”
“Thanks for your concern, Doctor Frost,” The Joker sassily remarks. “I’ll go in the morning.  I have more important matters to take care of tonight.”
You peel off his garment and assess the damage; he can’t hold it in:
“I bet you wanted to do this after I texted you my nudes, huh?”
You have to admit he caught you by surprise with his statement and the best solution in this situation is to cooperate:
“Been dreaming about it quite often.”
“Ha! I knew it!” The Clown cracks up. “Were you dreaming about it during your date?” he teases more.
“We’re not on a date,” you frown at the blood gushing from his wound.
“Interesting,” J expands on the subject. “At least you two have one thing in common: you’re both delusional.”
Frost rolls his eyes without J noticing and you signal him:
“Can I please get the whiskey? I need to disinfect this.”
“You have whiskey on your date?! Excuse me, non-date,” his majesty’s obnoxious temper emerges again.
You don’t engage for the moment, just open the bottle that Jonny gave you and splash a generous amount on the laceration.
“Jesus Christ!!!” The King shouts. “Be gentle woman, I’m fragile!!!”
“Sorry Mister J,” you mutter and Frost is certainly approving your tiny revenge scheme. “Can you please turn on the lights on your car? It’s getting dark and I can’t see what I’m doing,” you address The Joker’s sidekick. “Do you have a first aid kit in your vehicle Mister J?” you gesture towards his SUV parked a few feet away.
“I should,” a demented smirk flourished on his lips. “In the trunk!”
“Take a seat in the grass Mister J; I’ll go get it,” you urge the patient.
“Boss, are you sure you don’t want me to take you to the doctor?” Frost offers and instead of obliging your request, J pursues your steps because he doesn’t want to miss Turbo’s reaction.
“It’s fine, I’ll survive until morning time.”
You lift the trunk and gasp, stunned: your stellar ex-husband is tied up in there, duct tape over his mouth, clearly enjoying the repercussions of a confrontation due to bruises you can discern at a first glance.
“Oops, forgot about him,” The Clown yawns, bored.
Adam starts wiggling and mumbling whilst you can’t react.
“The fucker shot me!” your employer hisses. “Had the nerve to try killing me when he’s the one sleeping with MY girlfriend!”
“What’s the plan, sir?” Jonny intervenes, worried at your stunned attitude.
“The plan is simple: since Y/N is intimately acquainted with our guest, I’m willing to work out a deal. I don’t wanna to be accused of not listening to my associates.”
Adam keeps struggling and you finally reach and remove the duct tape.
“Honey, honey please!” he immediately rambles on, panicked. “You know I was joking about your weight, right? You don’t have to lose a few pounds! I admit locking you up in the basement was a huge mistake, ok? OK…? I’m sorry! I swear I’ll never cheat on you in the future. We can work things out, can’t we?” a glimmer of hope alleviates the somber perspective of his imminent demise once you begin searching his pockets.
He has the false impression you’ll untie him when in the matter of fact you are hunting down for his house keys so you can reclaim all the items you bribed him with when he signed the divorce papers.
Bingo! Treasure attained.
“So do you know him or not?” The Joker taps his fingers on the cold metal of his gun.
You take a deep breath, place the duct tape on Adam’s lips and sneer:
“I never saw this asshole in my life!”
“The lady has spoken!” J slams the trunk, unnerved. “Frost, you can go home; Y/N will take me to the warehouse on 8th street: she can borrow a car from there and split. I’ll send someone in the morning to bring it back.”
“Boss, we can leave your SUV here and I can drive you both…”
“DID I STUTTER?” The Clown growls, unhappy with Jonny’s shenanigans.
“No sir.”
“Mister J,” you distract his menacing temper. “Do you want me to bandage your injury now?”
“Nah, you can do it at the warehouse.”
More fireworks illuminate the skies and none in the small group is watching them anymore: the show is over for everyone involved.
You wave at Frost and hop in The Joker’s car as he positions himself in the passenger’s seat; you can tell something is off, besides the obvious of course.
If you’d have to speculate, you would say that his behavior is of a man who wasn’t hurt just physically, but on a different level he doesn’t understand yet: J went after your ex-husband alone when he doesn’t take unnecessary risks; enough proof to indicate he loved Ella and sought revenge for her betrayal without any of his team’s help.
You wonder what he did to the woman: did he kill her? Or worse?... You won’t dig to find out regardless.
The truth is you are The Joker’s Turbo and the statement works in reverse too: he is your Joker who undeniably needs cheering.
And you always deliver. That’s why you’re his.
That’s why you appreciate he made an effort to compromise on Adam’s predicament even if he didn’t mean it.
You steadily drive on the trail until you arrive to the main road, then suddenly accelerate with a specific purpose in mind. You take a sharp turn on Morrison Avenue, already at 100 miles per hour.
“What are you doing?” J bitterly enunciates.
“Why am I your Ghost Driver Mister Joker?” you reply with a question.
“Nobody can catch up with you.”
“Yup, the car to catch up with me hasn’t been assembled. Here they are, Gotham’s finest!” Y/N boasts at the lights glistening behind. “They always have a nightly patrol on Morrison Avenue ready to catch law un-abiding citizens,” you exclaim and J’s smirk widens at your proposition. “What do you say we make them work for their donuts, hm?”
“That’s my girl!” The King gives his blessing while Turbo speeds up the street in a frenzy.
************
11:58 pm
You barely returned to you apartment after the random factors which cut your rendezvous short when the cell chimes: a message from Frost.
“Did you make it home safe?”
“Yes,” you text.
“I’ve been busy. Wait, I’ll send you a picture.”
Downloading picture…
“Holy… shit!!!!!” you yell at your phone because the image depicts a portrait of a freshly shaved Jonny Frost.
“Do you like it?” the sentence appears on the screen concomitant with a knock at the main entrance.
“Who is it?” you drag your feet on the carpet.
“Me.”
As soon as you are standing in front of him, Frost hides his nervousness the best way he can; and he’s not a nervous individual per se.
“I thought you might want to take a closer look…,” he enters the hallway and you slowly lock the door behind him.
You don’t say anything, just touch his face and he pecks your wrist, confessing a secret he kept bottled up for years:
“Do you know I’ve been in love with you from the first second I saw you?”
Y/N doesn’t have to calculate in order to whisper:
“That’s a long time.”
“What’s the verdict?...“ Jonny insists. “You approve the change?”
“Yes,” you kiss him and he holds you tighter, thinking that if he could spend ages in your arms, it would be an eternity well spent.
 Also read: MASTERLIST
You can also follow me on Wattpad and Ao3 under the same blog name: DiYunho.
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J2 tinhat summary
For a while now I’ve been wanting to piece together a more comprehensive version of J2 tinhat facts/observations/thoughts/etc., and although the project is obviously an incredibly lengthy one, I figured I would at least create a kind of summary to post in the meantime. Even the summary however is VERY long, and I don’t have the ability to do cuts, so I apologize for that! But I am going to post the summary in a few parts, so here is the first!
This does not follow a linear timeline by the way, just as a heads up, and I’m not including many examples that I’ve already talked about recently to save space.
1. The Js spending holidays together and also vacationing together, like their skiing trip to Whistler, Canada for example and the Padackles family vacation to the Turks and Caicos among others. Recently the Js traveled to Europe, Dubai, and Australia.
2. Of course Jensen’s public move from Malibu to Austin (conveniently near Jared’s house) is a strong piece of evidence. Jensen’s comments about being closer to friends and family don’t make much sense as most of his friends live hours away, and he has also stated several times in the past that he loved living in Malibu and being on the beach, yet he still relocated (to be closer to Jared, we know).
3. This Js have used the word “we” instead of “I” on quite a few occasions while talking about things that should not involve the other J (again, as far as the general public is aware). They have also done the same thing with the word “our” instead of “my” and “us” instead of “me.”
4. Both Danneel and her brother Gino were nearly bankrupt when Danneel began her ‘relationship’ with Jensen. Jensen 100% supported (even way back then) both Danneel and her brother financially, which is often one of the main benefits a faux-spouse receives in the bearding arrangement (financial security and/or the recognition that comes with marrying a celebrity/someone who lives in the public eye).
5. We know for a fact that the Js share clothes and belongings very frequently (and have for many years). Not only do we have photographic evidence of this, but they’ve also both admitted that it’s true.
6. There is now a vast amount of evidence that Jared and Jensen spend a great deal of time with each other’s children, together and by themselves, and keep in mind that even the evidence we do have is likely only a small fraction of the actual reality. They really do seem to function in a lot of ways as one family, which of course makes sense from a tinhat’s perspective.
A few examples that I haven’t posted recently:
Jensen talking about how he used to wear a sherif’s belt and nothing else as a child and then when Jared makes fun of him, reminding Jared that Shep also likes to go nude and that Jensen has to remind him to put clothes on at the breakfast table.
Jensen: “[Jared] was out, so I was watching the kids.”
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^ the above blurb by Fangasm
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In 2015, Jensen said during a convention panel that he has “kids now,” realizing the error and correcting it to “kid” (he only had one at the time according to public knowledge).
Along the same vein, we can look at things that Genevieve and Danneel have said as well, such as Genevieve stating that one thing she loves about Jared is that “he shows up as a co-parent to our kids.” The definition of co-parenting is “the experience of raising children together as single parents like when a divorce or separation occurs,” or in this case, an agreement to parent together alongside the guise of marriage.
7. At this point the Js have accidentally mentioned so many things that relate to sleeping with each other/being with each other late at night or first thing in the morning etc. that I won’t even try to list them all. But just know that there are many of these examples (I’m happy to specify if anyone wants to send me a message about it).
8. The Js have been spotted dining together (or out at bars/other venues together) on many occasions, less in recent years, some of which have even been described as quite romantic/intimate settings. And of course, again, these are just the ones noticed by the public, not the likely many times the Js have booked private dining arrangements or something else of that nature. I just posted a few of these examples separately if you want to check them out.
9. Jared has forgotten the specifics of his ‘dating’ timeline actually a few times, probably the most well-known of those times being during his Live With Kelly interview where he claimed to have been single at the start of Supernatural when in reality (according to the information given to the general public), he and Sandra McCoy were very much together at that point. He also told an interviewer that he was single and then later on claimed to have been dating Genevieve two full months before that interview took place.
10. I already posted a fantastic humorous account of the many different stories told concerning the period of time Jensen publicly lived with Jared (again, message me if you’d like me to send it to you), but suffice to say…the lies became quite immense and tangled up in each other and the whole thing made many people wonder about what might really be going on between the Js.
11. Jared posed in front of a mural by himself (without Gen) that said “Love will win” in response to Jensen posing in front of a mural earlier that same day that said “Love is love,” a well known LGBT slogan.
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12. Jensen has rotated between several different wedding rings, which I have yet to see anyone come up with a believable-enough reason for, but whatever the reason, it certainly is something that makes you wonder.
13. When asked about “finding the one,” Jensen gave a very long, beautiful, thoughtful response during which he never once used the word “she,” “her,” “wife,” etc. (or Danneel’s name). His reply also contained several things that he had previously said (and would say again) to describe Jared and/or his relationship with Jared:
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Another similar example is when Jensen was asked about his favorite memory of SPN and he responded with his journey from single-hood to marriage, again not using female pronouns or “Danneel,” who hadn’t had anything to do with the show at that point anyway.
14. This one I remember having to hunt down and verify back when I first started “hardcore hatting,” and yes it is true. Sandy, Jared’s ‘girlfriend’ from years ago, favorited a tweet once in which she was referred to as Jared’s “ex-beard.” I mean, it’s pretty hard to misinterpret that…
15. Gossip columnist Ted Casablanca once pretty much accused Danneel of her relationship with Jensen being fake. Previously to that spat, he had also written an article in response to double engagement rumors saying that “Jensen and Jared would sooner marry each other than who they’re currently rumored to be getting hitched to. If I’m wrong I’ll get Taryn Ryder a date with Ryan Gosling.”
16. Speaking of the engagements, nearly everything about them was highly suspicious. Both occurred on the same weekend under the guise that each J had no idea the other was proposing, despite having said multiple times that they tell each other everything and showing that to be true through their actions as well. When asked on the spot what his proposal story was, Jensen retold the exact proposal story that had taken place a year earlier with Jared and Sandy, changing only the location.
17. Another well-known mishap was the ‘dinner in Italy’ story, told first by Jared in which he claimed to have been with his wife at the time and told second by Jensen at a different convention in which JENSEN was in fact the one who had been with Jared. Of course ironically, nothing would have even seemed strange about the whole thing if the story had been told truthfully from the get-go, but keeping up with lies is far from easy.
18. This one I think we all know. Joanna Krupa, known for her role in The Real Housewives of Miami, has admitted to bearding for someone in the past, and the only real celebrity she’s ever dated was Jensen. Which of course, like many of these observations, is not proof as much as it’s, well…an observation. Albeit quite an interesting one.
19. It was revealed by Ryan Seacrest (who has been at the center of many “gay or straight or other?” whispers for a long time now) that he used to live with Jensen, which wouldn’t be odd if Jensen had ever mentioned it while talking pretty extensively about his past roommates/living situations.
Like, for example, we HAD known that Jensen and Ty Vaughn lived together for a stretch, and some hats believe (due to the seemingly very intimate nature of their relationship at the time) that Ty may be an ex of Jensen’s.
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20. I saw someone point out the fact that Jensen’s oldest daughter’s middle name is Jay (a nickname Jensen has for Jared and actually something they’ve each said they call each other). On its own, this could just look like either a coincidence or a testament to the strong friendship between the Js, but it’s an interesting bit of information alongside everything else.
21. Richard Speight Junior has flubbed pretty famously a few times and nearly given away sensitive information about the Js being together. I’ve posted a few of these examples recently so I’ll hold off on including them here, but-, you know by now, just ask me if you’d like them!
And he’s not the only one who’s said some interesting things!
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“Strawberries & Cigarettes“
— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Liam x Julia Sherwood
— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : NSFW / cursing / +18 / Liam with a beard and desk breaking.
— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.5k
— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲 : The crown prince deals with the aftermath of the royal scandal that erupted the court while dealing with a broken heart of his own.
— 𝐀/𝐍 : This fic takes place after two months of book 1 finale. Thank you so much @furiouscloddonutpeanut for literally being with me every step of the way 💓. And @pixelchoicest my nugget hoe sister 💕.
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It’s been two months since the scandal erupted both of their lives. Not long ago she was America’s sweetheart that captured the heart of the Cordonian prince. Now she’s the shameless foreigner who brought dishonor to the royal family. a slut, a whore, a gold digger these are the few names the press choose for her at least these are the nice ones .
Liam resided to his study locking himself up continuing on his duties as usual. His heart broke with each passing day every minute, second without her was a complete and utter torture.
Sure physically he was alive and kicking but emotionally he was gone from this world, for how can he ever be whole again without his Queen.
Meanwhile Julia was back in New York busting tables and saving up tips hustling her way through life mending a broken heart of her own.
[ Sunday morning - 6:30 am - Julia’s place ]
‘Buzzz buzzz’
the sound of her phone buzzing on the nightstand woke Julia up from her slumber, she picked up the phone without looking, struggling to open her eyes she answered
“H-ello.“ she yawned
“Sherwood” a husky voice called out from the other end of the line
“DARKE? Wha- what are you doing calling me on a Sunday this early ? is everything alright , oh god did something happen to Liam is he—“
Clutching her hand to her beating heart she got out of bed awaiting his answer
“Woaah calm down Sherwood , Liam is alright— for the most part“
Drake trailed off
“He’s—oh god he’s a huge mess without you. he keeps locking himself up in his study refusing to eat or to talk to anyone, I’m not sure he’s producing oxygen at this point. I don’t know what to do Sherwood none of us do”
The line went silent for a moment.
But then . . .
“I’ll be on a the first flight to Cordonia.”
[ Sunday Afternoon - 4:45 pm - The crown Prince’s Study ]
A light knock echoed through his majesty’s study but the crown prince couldn’t be bother to answer.
a gush of wind crept into the room as a familiar figure stepped inside.
without looking up from the stack of documents he was signing off Liam dismissed the figure with a wave of his hand as if to say I’m busy at the moment.
“Liam . .“
His entire body froze unable to move at that moment. Dear god that voice he knew that voice too well, it’s .... it’s the voice of his angle, his saving grace , his Queen Liam looked up hands shaking, eyes tearing up meeting hers. The pen he was holding was now laying on the cold marble floor.
Closing the door shut behind her she ran into his arms hugging him so tightly like her life depended on it. Liam held her so close fearing that she might disappear at any given moment, fearing that she’s merely but a dream a very beautiful one.
After what felt like forever they let go of eachother eyes locked on one another, Julia reached for his stubble covered cheek cupping it in her hands brushing her thumb against the facial hair.
“oh my, what has the world done to you my love ?“
“J-Julia .. “ he stuttered her name through muffled sobs and heart skipped a beat at hearing his voice for the first time in two months. He couldn’t contain his emotions any longer. He finally broke after holding it all in for so long.
The hurt , the pain , the agony all came crashing down. his wounds won’t heal just like hers didn’t she knew that much.
“Shhh , it’s gonna be alright I’m here now”
Rubbing his back to comfort him, Liam buried his head in her shoulder seeking shelter from the cruel world that broke him.
After a few long moments he broke the embrace
“Wait - what are you doing here ? Someone could see you. they’ll talk about you again and -“ she cut him right off putting one finger on his lips
“Let them talk Liam it’s not like there’s not much to be said the damage has been done. Besides I don’t care about anyone or what they say I care about you When Drake called this morning I-“
“Wait, Drake called you ?”
“Yes, he said you’ve been locking yourself up in your study since I left, he also said that you haven’t been yourself for quite sometime now. What’s going on ?talk to me Liam ?”
“ I - I don’t know Julia I’m a mess without you , I can’t even go a second without you crossing my mind , you consume me my thoughts , my heart , my soul all of me.”
He pulled away from her walking towards the window looking out the Royal garden
“But I understand that you must go, I’ve caused you enough pain that’ll last a lifetime and I can begin to describe how truly sorry I am for what happened if I had known I would’ve-“ his hands formed into fists punching the wall in a fit of rage.
Taking a step forward she wrapped an arm around his back and pulled him close, gently hugging him. Despite his pain, his heart fluttered at the feeling of her body pressed against his. Her touch made the room warmer somehow. In her embrace the world stopped still on its axis. There was no time, no wind, no rain. Liam’s mind was at peace. This was the love he’d waited for, yearned for and prayed for.
“You don’t need to apology for anything , it’s not your fault . Besides if I get the chance to do it all again I would change nothing because all that pain has led me to you”.
“My Julia I truly don’t deserve you.”
“It is I who don’t deserve you Liam , you are a kind hearted soul that’s too damn good for this world “
She turned him around to face her reaching for his hand spraying small kisses on his bruised knuckle
“I . . Will . . Forever . . Be . . Yours . . Liam.”
Their eyes lock in one electrifying moment, and any trace of self control that he had was thrown out the window.
His want for her becoming unbearable as he reached over to cup her face brushing a stray of her raven hair aside taking the sight of her for the first time since she stepped into the room. Then suddenly his soft lips pressed against hers with a hum of desire, longing, and pain.
One of her hands running through his messy blonde hair, the soft strands surrounding her small fingers. The other hand slowly trails up his chest, her fingers splayed across the white material.
Smiling into the kiss her thumbs moved to trace against his cheekbones
“I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you too, my love.”
Liam effortlessly picks Julia up pressing her against the wall of his study. He trails passionate kisses along her jaw, his mouth dropping over her throat and down her collarbone to the valley between her breasts.
“Tell me, My Queen, what do you want.”
“You.”
He would never know how one simple word could hold some much love and devotion, but it did, and it always would.
He leaned off of her slightly, looping his arm around her back, then slowly sliding down to her thighs.
Lifting her up and walking to his oak desk.
He gently sat her down, then with a smirk swept all his paper off the desk. Papers of importance, but not as important as her.
Liam quickly ripped-off the piece of garment that kept him from his queen tossing it on the ground.
He then started sprinkling feather-like kisses on her abdomen causing her back to arched, his tongue was sucking on her sensitive skin setting her ablaze with each touch. as his right hand gripping her thigh, pushing her skirt up until it sits bunched around her hips.
Hands sliding up and down her thigh, he kisses down her stomach until his teeth grab the edge of the lace material of her panties tugging the garment down slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. Heart beating so fast it could power a whole city shivers ran up and down her spine with each touch. As he pulls her underwear all the way off, tossing them aside.
And without a warning he shoved his fingers inside of her, three at once pumping and stretching her. Another loud moan spills out of her and fills the room. Julia’s breathing grows harsh and unsteady as he fucks her with his fingers, her walls already beginning to contract around him and the ache inside of her builds up all the way to her belly. He thumbs at her clit and pulls his fingers free from her making her whine at the loss. 
Liam’s fingers are wet against her thigh as he grips her closer to him with a mischievous smirk on his face he kneels down kissing her pelvis his stubble scratching her smooth skin.
“Your stubble tickles.”
she smiles at him not so innocently.
He bit at the sensitive skin of her thigh even harder looking up meeting her fiery gaze.
“Tell me, Does it turn my Queen on ?”
“Oh God, Yes.”
“Then let’s put it to good use shall we ?”
Their eyes locked. as he inched towards her center, his beard prickling her thighs when his mouth finally made contact.
The rough stubble combined with his smooth tongue twirling and sucking at her core made her go insane with pleasure, good god the wonders he could do with that mouth of his.
The electrifying sensation that was coursing through her was too much, she bursted out into a million pieces right there arching her back on the wooden desk yelling his name for the entire kingdom to hear and not giving a damn about it.
“You taste even sweeter than I remember, my Queen”
he licked off her juices sucking his fingers tasting her once more.
As she came down form her high Julia sat up pulling Liam closer kissing him hard, tugging at his clothes
“I believe your too dressed for the occasion, Your Majesty”
“Hmm. and what do you suggest we do about that, My love ?”
He smirked biting her lower lip.
She quickly disposed of his clothes tearing them up to shreds before throwing them somewhere on the messy floor.
She splayed her hands up and down on his chiseled chest Casing every muscles in his body to contract at her touch.
“Tell me ... “ she whispered as her splayed hands traveled all the way down to his pelvis , until she reached her desired destination. She grabbed at his throbbing bulge feeling his hardness already forming in her hands as she applied pressure to it even more.
“What does his royal highness wishes me to do ?”
At this point Liam couldn’t even form thoughts let alone speak. His right hand gripped her thigh in order to keep her wetness close to his hardness yearning for the contact as his left arm held her in the place he wanted.
Julia didn’t need him to say anything she already knew what he wanted and she was more than happy to oblige.
Almost immediately she started to massage his scalp with one hand as her other one tugged his boxers down, his hard length springing free from it’s confines. she began stroking him, slowly, taking her time. While keeping her eyes fixated on his face, watching each and every reaction. She loved the fact that she has complete control over him. He's at her mercy. She wanted to Taste him, savor him, love him and so she did with each stroke he was a trembling mess in her hands.
His head fell back and he moaned loudly, as she took him all in her mouth. She bobbled her head up and down his cock Feeling it stiffen With every move between her cheeks.
Liam couldn’t hold it in anymore, he has to feel her. Consequences be damned.
He pulled her up sitting her back on the desk pushing her legs wide open as his tip rubbed against her dripping entrance teasing her. He took the opportunity to pin her arms up and in one smooth push he entered her.
The tight, wet feel of her causes him to groan loud turning her on even more. He lifted her leg over his shoulder and fucked into her, hard.
They both groaned. Julia grabbed his shoulders to steady herself, taking in the feeling of every single inch of him inside her.
She lifted her pelvis with each thrust intent on meeting his own and taking her own pleasure. His cock plunged deeper, messaging the sweet, sensitive spot inside of her. 
“Dear god, Liam.” She called, her mouth opening as she felt him hit all the right places.
“Yes, my love ...” He grabbed her butt, helping her up and down.
He was high on her and he could never get enough.
With each thrust a thrill was sent up and down her spine as her stomach grew taut with the impending orgasm. Liam’s own breath is as labored as hers, he watched her flush as her breasts bounced lightly from the force of him. He dragged a hand across her stomach and cupped her breast, pinching her nipple until she moaned and whimpered.
His name never leaving her lips.
He tilted his head back and let out a loud groan as he felt her tighten around him. His hand on her hip was bruisingly tight and she knew damn well she’ll have plenty of bruises to remember him by but she didn’t mind it one bit.
He rammed into her until there was nothing left.
She came undone right then and there in his arms, Her body trembling with pleasure.
It only took Liam a few moments to follow right after her. He muffled a scream of her name as he crashed and bit on her shoulder.
Their ragged breaths and pleasure cries filled up the room as they held each other for a couple of minutes, catching their heartbeats and slowly coming down from their highs.
Liam gently picked Julia up and got her scattered clothes off the floor. dressing her slowly zipping up her skirt back on. As he was getting dressed she turned around letting out a sigh
“What now Liam ?“ she asked with a worried look on her face.
“I don’t know, but we hope for the future. At this very moment you are mine and I am yours and there’s nothing that can keep us apart. Know that I love you with every waking bone in my body, I won’t make the same mistake and let you go again. I will fight for you this time, you are not an obligation Julia, you are my forever.”
He walked up to her slowly and pulling her closer to him wrapping his arms around her. His embrace was warm, and his big, strong arms seemed very protective when wrapped around her frail body. The world around her seemed to melt away as she squeezed him back, not wanting the moment to end.
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Summertime Magic (III)
A/N: Okay, so I was in the middle of writing part two when I had the idea for this one. Yes, I write weird as hell but hey. In this chapter, we will see N’Jadaka and Y/N’s friendship actually grow a lot more.
WARNING: Contains alcohol use, drug use and so much more (GUARDS YA LOINS).
*Gif down below was made by me. So please don’t take credit. Thanks, loves*
SONG RECOMMENDATION: FORTUNATE by Maxwell
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  It was the day of the party when Y/N was in her closet looking at what to wear. She had plenty of clothes but none felt “90′s” enough so she FaceTimed her best friend; her momma. “Hey, momma’s baby. How ya doing”, she asked with a huge smile on her face. Y/N loved her momma so much, she was her heart and soul. Since Y/N was the oldest, they were always very, very close. “I’m good, ma. I need your expertise really quick. Was ya busy?”
“Honey, I am never busy when it comes to you. Whatcha need”, her mom leaned up to the screen to get a better look at her beautiful daughter. “Ok, so I’m going to a party tonight. 90′s theme to be exact. We both know that all the girl are gonna have extensions down to they booty with bamboos and all but I wanna be different. What do you suggest?” Her momma chuckled as she thought of the fashion back then, bringing up old memories. “Well, baby. When I was growing up, I was very fond of the big ol hoop earrings that you can get at the beauty supply, clear gloss with a nude lip liner, mascara and beauty mark right on the right side of my mouth with a dark eyeliner. Now, with clothes, ya momma always stayed fly. I used to steal ya dads varsity jacket when he played football at Locke High with some either tight but baggy mom jeans, a bralette, and boots or a baggy jersey with some black bike shorts with scrunched up socks and sneaks.”
  Y/N smiled at her mother as she continued with her advice. Soon, she was getting ready to go in her flared red bottoms and white tank with her toes in Nike slides. She arrived at the Thrift store as soon as it opened and went over to the men’s section; they just seemed to fit better and was way more stylish. She found an old oversized red school baseball with the number 93 on it. She smiled as she made her way to the bralette section. N'Jadaka is gonna love this, she thought as her hand reached for a black bralette (which had plenty of lace) big enough for her breast. She spent only twelve dollars on everything and made her way back home to shower and get ready. 
  Once she was done, she matched her fit with some high waist shorts, knee-high sock, and her bright red combat boots. Her hair was in a high pony with beads on a few locs and a red bandana wrapped around by her slayed edges. She was dancing to “Don’t Walk Away” by Jade on the Apple Music’ 90′s playlist when she got a call. “Hey, N’Jadaka”, she said with a smile and he responded. “Wassup, little one. I’m on my way now so be ready.” She rolled her eyes and as if he can see here, he said “you better stop rolling those pretty eyes of yours before they get stuck. Now, I’m around the corner. Open the door.”
“Say please”.
“Please open the door”, he said with a chuckle. She went over to the window to watch him park and waited for him to knock. Once he did, she opened the door and Y/N couldn’t help but smile. Erik was in a black buttondown Dickie shirt with a bright white crew neck shirt underneath, dark blue jeans, black Adidas Superstars with the white lines and a chunky, gold chin with diamonds throughout it and a black cap on his belt loop that had Oakland in white cursive. “Well, well. You look good,” Y/N said as he gave her a side hug. “Thank you, thank you. I’m my favorite rap group.” She folded her arms and said “NWA. Well, hopefully, you ain’t Dre because I ain’t tryna get my ass beat by some nigga.” N’Jadaka stepped back chuckling. “Dammmnnnn, you just beating my nigga, Dre though, huh?”
“Not like he beat that singer but eh.” She locked her door before they got to his car; he opened the door for her and they were on their way. She watched him drive as Snoop Dogg playing in the background. He leaned with his left hand on the wheel and the right on the armrest. His lips licked, so soft and kissable. He was handsome when they met at the store but with a nice trimmed beard and locks all done, he looked like a freaking dream. “So, Y/N, what ya got a taste for? The party is in Inglewood by Century. I’ll pay.”
“Honestly, I'm not hungry. We can just get frozen yogurt at Yougurtland”, she lied looking at the door. She didn’t eat at all that day because 1) she was nervous as hell about being at a party with the most attractive man and 2) she liked how flat her tummy was when she didn’t eat. Her stomach was still fluffy but it looked slimmer. N’Jadaka said “little one, we getting real food. Especially if there is gonna be alcohol there. Frozen yogurt or whatever isn’t going to do anything for no damn body.” Y/N looked over at him to see he was looking back at her. “I’m serious. Pick something.”
“How about Mexican food? I know there is a Chile Verde around there.” He smiled and said “that's more like it. I can go for a big ass burrito anyways. Carne Asada with everything and a large drink. When I go there, I asked for the onions grilled, meat well done and the cheese gotta be on point.” As he was talking, a sound got his attention. He looked to Y/N who had her stomach over her stomach. As she felt embarrassed, she looked straight and heard a small chuckle when she heard it again but not from her end. “I guess I made us even more hungry, huh?” She laughed at them as he did the same. “You did.”
   Soon, they arrived in the parking lot and he opened the door for her to the restaurant. “Hello, welcome. How can I help you, sir” the young lady behind the register asked with a smile. “Yeah, can we get two Carne Asada burritos with everything? Then, I wanna add chips and guac and salsa and two large iced teas.” As he was talking looking at the menu, Y/N looked up too but when she looked at the cashier, the woman looked up and down at her with a brow raised. When Y/N cleared her throat and looked away, N’Jadaka looked at her and asked “are you okay”; she nodded and walked into a nearby booth. He paid the food and made his way, seating across from her. He noticed Y/N buttoning her top. 
    “Y/N, wassup? Why you fixing ya clothes?” He got no answer until he felt someone looking at their table. In his peripheral vision, he saw a dirty look from the woman who helped them. His eyes stayed on Y/N as he went to sit on her side. She looked at him as he wrapped his long toned arm around her neck slowly. “Y/N, don’t tell me you fixing ya shit because of the broad.” She tried to look down but he placed his finger on her chin. He held her cheek while he leaned into her ear to whisper. “I want you to look at her the whole time”. Y/N’s eyes lied on the cashier who was watching. “Don’t let that bitch make you feel bad about yourself, aight? She just mad she don’t look like you and can never look like you if she tried. She looks like she doesn’t even take care of herself. Her hair oily as fuck, skin ashy, and her lips looking like before Kylie.” She giggled in his ear while still watching the woman.
   “Now, when you are with me, I don’t wanna see any shit like this again, okay,” he said finally looking back to her face. She grinned with a nod and he said: “aight, lemme get our food”. He kissed her forehead and got up. When he looked back, she smiled but noticed a heavier older woman coming out. She saw N’Jadaka pointing back at her and the older woman looking at her cashier with folded arms. The cashier held her hands in front of her and tried to look sympathetic. The older woman pointed at the employee then to the back once N’Jadaka made his way over. “Hey, little one. Here we go” he said as he passed her food. He started eating but she just watched him, sipping her drink. “What happened up there”, she asked.
 He wiped his mouth and finished chewing, looking into her face. “Well, let’s just say when someone is fucking with my girl, I gotta check they ass”, he went back to eating and sipping his drink after he saw her smile and finally starting to eat. Once they were done, they stood to put their trash away when he noticed the cashier and the manager approaching them. “Excuse me, young lady. I am Gloria Gonzalez, the manager here and I would like to apologize for my employee’s behavior. It was very uncalled for.” N’Jadaka looked at her and Y/N said: “thank you, ma’am.” Gloria looked to her cashier with folded arms and said: “Selena, go on.” The employee said “I am very sorry for my behavior. I should be ashamed of myself.” The apology was very forced it was pathetic. 
  Gloria handed the money that N’Jadaka paid with and said “again, we apologize and your meal is on us.” N’Jadaka nodded, placing the money in his pocket and wrapped his arm around Y/N’s neck as they walked out. Once they got in the car, he started it saying “I told you. I keep muthafuckas in check.” She smiled and he did the same.
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[This is How We Do It by Montell Jordans plays loudly in background]
   They finally arrived at the dark shaded house. There was plenty of people walking down to it in flashy 90′s clothing, cars parked everywhere and the silhouettes in the window indicated the party was jumping. N’Jadaka parked, let her out and wrapped his arm around her neck as they made their way. He pulled out his phone as they got to the door and as soon as he placed it back in his pocket, a man with the same fit as his came to the door. “Aye, my nigga here” Jerald gave him dap as his other hand was occupied with a red solo cup. “Wassup, J. This is Y/N.Y/N, this is my nigga, Jerald.” Jerald smiled at her and said “welcome, welcome to my casa, fellow negroes.” She laughed and said, “it’s nice to meet you.”
“Come in, y’all. My girl in the kitchen of course”, he said leading the way. The crowd was so thick but that was no match for N’Jadaka. When they got to the kitchen, there was a small crowd around a ton of food and drinks. There was a woman with a jet black pixie hair, a rainbow-striped crop top, mom jeans and matching converse serving drinks. Her skin was a caramel tone and her eyes were a jaded green. “Sheila Baby”, N’Jadaka said and she looked up with a huge smile. “N’Jadaka”, she yelled with excitement. The group went over and he hugged her with one arm still attached to Y/N. “Sheila, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is my baby sister Sheila. We went to school and the navy together”. Sheila pointed to her with a smile “you did, J’s hair?” Y/N nodded and Sheila put her hand up for a high five; Y/N gave her one. “Girl, you done blessed this nigga’s hair. He was walking around like a premature wet mop.” Jerald choked on his drink and coughed with a laugh. 
  N’Jadaka looked at her with a death stare and said: “don’t be mad at me because you look like a Nia Long reject.” She chuckled and said “alright Nappy with Attitude, don’t get roasted on in here. I’ll embarrass you in front of baby girl here.” N’Jadaka placed both hands in front of him and said “bet.” Jerald passed Y/N a cold cup of Jack and Coke as they watched. Sheila sipped her drink and started. “My nigga, don’t let me talk about how you looked before you removed your scars. This nigga looked like a vibrator after someone ate some Taco Bell.”  Jerald started dying laughing then Y/N sipped her drink with a smile because of Jerald’s contagious laugh. “Aight aight, don’t lemme get on that neck. Why the fuck did you rip ya pubs off to glue it on the nape of your neck?” This time Jerald and Y/N laughed. Sheila smiled with a nod and said “aight, but why you look like a fake ass Michael B. Jordan? He looks like Melrose Ave while you look like Slauson Swap Meet.” 
“Yooooo, I look way better that nigga. But you just mad because you look like Halle M. Berry. But the M don’t stand for Maria. Ya name would be Halle Moldy Ass Berry.” Jerry threw his white bandana as they all laughed and Sheila was the main one. “You win, big dawg. You win”, she said wiping her tears away. He took a bow and heard “Too Close” by Next playing. He looked at Y/N who was bopping her and drinking. He held his hand out getting her attention. “C’mon, you know you wanna”, he gave her cup to Sheila and they made their way to the floor. He danced backward as she tried to pull out from his grip. “C’mon, I don’t like dancing.” He spun her in a circle with both hands in the air. He stepped side to side and said “don’t lie to me, woman. Ya better shake those hips. I know you can.”
  She rolled her eyes and before she moved to the beat, followed by her feet. He watched her with a smile on his face and pulled her by her jersey to him. She giggled as she play swatted him away. The night was full of good, music and people. In the middle of the party, Y/N was in the kitchen talking to Sheila about setting an appointment when all the other ladies tried to squeeze in while she sipped more drinks. N’Jadaka was outside at the patio table occasionally looking in as his friends played spades. “BOOM, give. Me. Ma. Monaaaaaayyyyyyyy”, said Marcus. Jerald rolled up another blunt and whistled to N’Jadaka to get his attention. “Bruh, she good in there. Came hit this.”
“Pause”, said Trevon who looked at his new hand of cards and the fellas laughed. N’Jadaka took the blunt and lit it, taking a long hit. “Enjoy it, bruh. It’s yours.” N’Jadaka let the smoke out through his nose looking back at Y/N. “JD, stop sweating the girl. She having fun in there with all them females. Ya acting like y’all fucking.” N’Jadaka eyes went to Trevon and he said “Trey, I barely know the girl so why would we fuck. She cool and all-”
“Then, why you watching her like you her damn daddy”, Marcus asked sipping from his drink. “Because she around a bunch of niggas she don’t know. Tryna make sure she safe”, N’Jadaka said before taking another hit. Jerald looked at his best friend then to the others. “JD is right. He brought her here and we all know how he gets. Let the nigga be”, he said. N’Jadaka nodded and looked back at to see she was by the door. “Hey, N’Jadaka. When you coming back in? I kinda feel like dancing again.”
“Thought you don't dance didn’t like dancin’“, he said and she stated with a smile, “I don’t” before going back in. N’Jadaka stood and made his way back in and took Y/N’s hand into his. As the music faded into another, he held her arm around his neck. N’Jadaka placed his right arm around her waist as she placed her arms around his neck. He pulled her closer to him as the sound of Maxwell’s Fortunate played. He looked in her eyes as she smiled up at him. They rocked side to side slowly, in silent. He sipped from his red solo cup and handed it to her so she can have a taste. She finally was getting used to being out and around him. 
   Her left hand reached his to back while his hand went to her behind softly. She looked up at him but his eyes were closed as he let the song take him away. She noticed his lips moving to the words of the song. They were so soft looking. Her eyes traveled down his chest, abs and to his feet. Damn, he is beautiful, she thought to herself. She felt his hand cuffing her behind lightly resulting her eyes to get low. The way his hand held her close to his pelvis made her feel all warm inside. She looked up to him but by the time she did, his eyes were already watching hers. His brow was raised up and a smirk on his face. 
  “Y/N, you aight”, he questioned. She nodded with a smile and uttered “I’m good. Just, uh, a little tired.” He nodded and went over to the kitchen with her hand in his, getting Sheila’s attention. “Sheila Baby, we gonna head outta here. Thanks for having us.” She smiled and said “bwoy, you know y’all are always welcomed. Here y’all go. I packed a ton of food for y’all to go with some of my sweet potato pie.” He hugged her and took the bag. “That food is for both of y’all, J. Don’t be a Fatty Mc Fatty and eat up all the food.”
“Oh hush. Love you girl”, he kissed her cheek and Y/N gave her a hug before they walked out. He drove as she watched the streetlights pass by. They lit against the dark sky and so did the tall buildings. “Thanks for coming with me. I hope you had fun”, he mentioned with his left hand on the steering wheel. “Don’t mention it. I did have fun.” 
“So, In ‘N’Out still opened? Want a burger” he asked and she just nodded. “Y/N, you a grown woman who needs to use her big girl words. I need words.” She rolled her eyes and articulated “yes, I would love to partake in a cheeseburger meal, dear sir.” He side-eyed her with a smirk and said “jackass” making her laugh. They made their way to the restaurant, order two well-done double-double meals with chocolate milkshakes and ate in the parking lot. They talked for what it seemed for hours and before you know it, she had fallen asleep. 
   She felt the car stop and a tap on her thigh. When she opened her eyes, she looked around then to N’Jadaka’s smile. “Hey, you’re home. Lemme walk you to your door”, he said before hopping out. Y/N watched as he came over to open her door. He got to the door, opening it and taking her hand as she held their leftovers. “I’m glad you had fun tonight, little one. You made it not so borin’”, he said and she grinned. “Daka, that party wasn’t boring at all”, she added but didn’t get a response. “Y/N, what did you just call me”, he asked with a curious brow. “Oh, my bad. I called you, Daka. I did-”
   “Nah, I’m feelin’ in. Say it again for me”, he stepped closer to her making Y/N look up to his eyes with her big brown ones. “Daka, I called you Daka”, she responded in a timid tone. He held her chin up and said “got a nice ring to it. Doesn’t it?” She blushed at his touch and said: “yeah, it does.” She can feel his thumb on her chin, softly rubbing back to forth. “You need a nickname, too. Hm, let’s see. How about...”, he paused and looked down at her waiting eyes. “With f a face and eyes like this, I would call you baby girl. What you think?” She smiled and said “I like it. It’s sweet.” They stood for what it was like hours, his hand still her chin. He gently pulled her face forward as she to herself. Oh my God. Is he about to kiss me? She bit her lip, closed her eyes but what happened next surprised her; he only kissed her forehead. 
   She opened her eyes as saw that he was looking right at her. “You good”, he asked and replied, “yeah, just tired.” N’Jadaka looked around then back at her. “Ok, well Ima let go ahead and sleep but I’m gonna text you when I get home”, he said wrapping his arms around her for a close hug. When they separated and he started walking to his car, she looked down at the bag. “Daka, what? You forget ya left food.” He turned to her and said “keep it in the fridge for me. We can eat that for dinner tomorrow.”
“What if I was busy, Daka”, she said with her arms to the side. He reached the driver side of his car with his brow raised and said: “you not.” She placed her tongue inside her right cheek with a smile. “Mhm, I thought not. I’ll be here at 6:30, I’ll bring some drinks and shit. I’ll see ya tomorrow, baby girl.” He gave her a wink that made Y/N’s heart smiled and stomach flutter. He got into his car and watched her go in but she watched him pull out his phone; her phone rung and she answered. “Yes?”
“Stop watching me and take ya ass to bed.”
  She laughed and hung up, ready for what tomorrow had planned.
~
TBH, this was all over the place but the next chapter is on the way
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stevieang · 6 years
Text
May I Have This Dance? Chapter 3/?
Chapter 1  Chapter 2
Pairing: Tom Hiddleston RPF x Plus-Size Reader Insert
Word Count: 3000
Warnings: If too much sweet fluffiness isn’t your thing, then keep on going.This is full-on no-holds-barred fluff, though this chapter throws in some angsty goodness at the end, an homage to @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan
Tags:   @3dsaunt  @andiyholly  @averyrogers83  @babybluesunsets @bettercallsabs @brittyevans  @brookebarnes @captain-rogers-beard @cecygee   @csrfavs   @docharleythegeekqueen  @dorito-distractions  @everythingisoverrated  @fabicchi  @favhearts  @flawless-disaster  @gifsbysimplysonia @hazeleyedgirl7   @hennessy0274-blog @inumorph @jaguars2007  @jaamesbbarnes @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety  @janeyboo @joshburtonhellzyess  @jouhainak @learisa @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @lilylovescomics   @lojo83   @lookwhatyoumademequeue  @lostinspace33  @madicardi  @magellan-88   @mamapeterson   @me-a-hopeless-romantic  @meyoko10  @mindingmyownbusiness @mizzzpink @mywritingsblog @nomadicpixel  @part-time-patronus @patzammit @pinkieandthebrain1 @redqueen1221 @sebbytrash  @sgtjbuccky  @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan  @stark-spangled-banner-man  @st-eve-barnes @stillherebiandabitch @sunriserose1023 @suz-123 @the-real-kellymonster    @tutis24 @winterismyfavoriteseason1945  @winters-beauty @yaykitty3
Summary: Two of your best friends are getting married and you have the honor of singing at their wedding.  At the reception you’re approached by a famous friend of the groom, Tom Hiddleston.  Much polite flirting ensues. Here’s the “more to come.” Enjoy!
A/N: Hey y’all!  Thank you so much for your time, your kind words, and all the good stuff you send my way! I am loving this fic now, and though this chapter took me a long time to start, it flowed once I did.  This chapter has a lot of things I hold dear to my heart - American Sign Language and those that use it.  I’ve included a few links to YouTube videos that showcase Deaf theatre and Deaf actors.  If you’ve never seen people using sign language “in real life” this will give you an idea of the energy it can give off when you see it!  They are all captioned - equal access for all!
Chapter 3:
Tom turned over in bed, trying to stretch away the kinks from a poor night’s sleep.  He had tossed and turned, thinking about you - your joy, the kind, honest way you spoke, and how you made him feel things he hadn’t felt in awhile. He couldn’t shake the feeling of a missed opportunity; that he had lost the chance of some great “bolt of lightning” moment by not having kissed you. Yet.
________
Another morning, another first thought of Tom maybe kissing you one of these days.  That dreamy train of thought was quickly derailed by your videophone alerting you had a call.  You barely had time to grab your glasses and pull your hair up before accepting the call, but thankfully Jason had seen you right after rolling out of bed when you were roommates.  
Jason: Is HE with you?
You: Good morning to you, too.  No.
Jason: Why not? It was clear how much he liked you.
You: Just was really tired last night, wasn’t the right time.
Jason: You sure that’s it? You ok?
You had known Jason for too long and subtlety was not a specialty.
You: J, don’t worry, it’s all good.  I’m gonna change the subject - when and where tonight?
As you figured out what the evening was going to bring, your text alert sounded. Tom.  
Jason wiggled his eyebrows and signed off, making you chuckle.
TWH: Good morning
You: Good morning, did you sleep well?
TWH: Somewhat.  Hard time falling asleep.
You: I’m sorry, I hate when that happens.  What are you up to today?
The conversation bubble popped up, then disappeared, then started bubbling again.  Your stomach called for breakfast so you left your phone, washed your face, pulled on your jeans, and made your way out the door. The bubble was still percolating as you opened the door and stepped out backwards to make sure it was locked.  You yelped and apologized as your backside connected with someone in the hall.  
“Oh my God, I’m so…” Your card key flew out of your hand as you turned around, hearing a familiar baritone chuckle and a set of familiar hands holding your waist.
“Sorry I startled you, darling.  I hoped I could convince you to join me for breakfast.”  His eyes found the key card as you stepped back towards your door, and his fingers barely grazed the top of your hand as he handed it over.  While you fiddled with the card to avoid his eyes, your goosebumpy flesh betrayed his effect on you.  
Your smile was tired, but real.  “You didn’t have to come all this way, I would’ve met up somewhere.”  Though it wasn’t your intent, your voice must have relayed something that made him step back.
He hung his head for a moment and you saw something new - seriousness.  “I’m sorry.  I made an assumption that you’d be needing breakfast, as well.  Of course, I should have asked before showing up.”
The tops of your shoes touched his and you entwined your right hand with his left as you sought out his eyes.  “A heads up would’ve been nice.  I might’ve put in a little more effort when I got ready, but seeing you here is wonderful.  Thank you for making the effort.”  He brightened - and not just his smile or his eyes, but his entire countenance that stayed lit the entire ride to the restaurant.  
The morning was so easy, so real.  You were both tired, so neither of you was trying to filter too much, try too hard, or impress the other.  Breakfast at an out of the way diner almost became a Comic Con event when Tom was recognized, but he sidestepped the hoopla by posing for a few photos, signing autographs, and making wonderfully genial small talk that made all his fans feel heard and special.
When you were safely ensconced in a cab, taking an unofficial sightseeing tour, you remarked how impressed you were by the way he treated his fans.
“It must be so difficult when people see you as one character, but you never seem to begrudge it.  In just a few days I’ve seen you be completely courteous, charming, and generous with anyone that approaches you.  It means something when you treat people nicely when you don’t have to.”
That famous smile made an appearance.  “What exactly, pray tell, does it mean to you?”
Red spots bloomed across your cheeks as you rested your fingers on his leg, “That you were raised to treat everyone with kindness and respect.”
He dropped his head forward and covered his hand with yours.  “Thank you.  I am grateful for my fans.  I recognize that I would be in a different place in my career without them, but to be honest, the attention sometimes makes it difficult when I want to spend time with someone special.” He reached for the hand you were resting on his thigh and looked straight through you.  
You were still.  Your thoughts were silent, your feelings calm.  The driver, on the other hand, took the lull in the conversation as a springboard for a rambling narrative about the various sights.  You both let out the breaths you were holding and laughed.  The rest of the drive was spent learning about D.C. and talking about the plans to meet up with your friends at a Deaf Theatre Company production of “Romeo and Juliet” that night.
While waiting for Tom, you checked yourself in the mirror.  You had pampered yourself - a nap, a luxuriating bath in the jet stream tub, and enough time to look your best.  You only had the clothes you’d packed, but you were able to piece together red pants, a black top and faux-diamond accessories.  The outfit along with your styled up-do and somewhat dramatic makeup made you feel more alive than you had in years.
Tom’s knock sent your stomach flipping, and his outfit - navy slacks and jacket with a crisp white shirt underneath and, of course, the glasses - may have caused heart palpitations.  His face was soft and caring as he complimented your outfit and handed you a beautiful white rose.
“Shall we?” and his ever-offered arm led you to the waiting car, where you shared how nervous you were, provoking a suspicious look.
Your fears tumbled out without stopping.  “I’m afraid I’ve built this up too much, and you won’t be as astounded as I think you’ll be, then that’ll just cause a shame spiral about how I wasted your evening.”  His face easily slid from questioning to playfully mocking and had you laughing and leaning back on the headrest before you even finished the sentence.  He turned a bit, taking your left hand in both of his and letting his leg rest against yours.
“No matter how good or not, what I’m most excited about is that it’s a new experience, a new way of bringing the words and feelings to the audience.  After the little bit I saw last night, I can only imagine the kind of energy an immersive signing experience will have.”
Watching two people sign is one thing, but being thrust into a space full of people using their bodies, voices, and faces to communicate is quite another.  You made sure to keep an eye on Tom, as his eyes rapidly scanned the lobby, his gaze unable to rest on one place.  You quickly found Jason and his boyfriend surrounded by your friend group from grad school.  You had time to introduce them all before the show - you signed for yourself and Tom, and voiced for everyone that signed to him.  You were sweating by the time you sat down and looked forward to the show, while Tom held tight to your hand and let you help him adjust his assistive listening device that channeled the interpreter’s voices.
A performance in American Sign Language is silent, which is an eerie feeling for a hearing person.  It took you years to get used to it, but now it was second nature.  You could tell Tom was trying to reconcile what he saw with what he heard and what he had done when performing the play, which was a huge amount of input and work for his brain.   You whispered the same advice you’d received when you were inaugurated into this world.
“Close your eyes, Tom.  Your brain doesn’t know how to process all the visual information, and it’s likely you’ll get a headache if you keep focusing on what you’re hearing and seeing with such intensity.  Just take little breaks from looking and then come back to it when you feel ready.”  His smile was weary, and he kissed your forehead and whispered his thanks before doing just as you suggested behind his steepled hands.  At the intermission you excused yourselves from the group and took him outside to a secluded area where you could speak to each other without excluding anyone who could not hear.  You handed him a drink, sat next to him, and held his hand.
“You ok? We can leave if it’s getting to be too much.”  He lifted his head and looked at you with an intensity you only recognized from his work.
“Absolutely not.  This….this...defies description.”  The fierceness of his stare sent shivers down your neck and arms.  “As do you.”
Before you could respond, his mouth was on yours, his hand behind your neck urging you to stay lost in the kiss, which you were more than happy to do.  When you unlocked from each other, you rested your foreheads together by some unspoken arrangement.
Your text alert sounded.  “It’s Jason, intermission is over.”
He stood, buttoned his jacket, and tugged on the hem before offering you his hand, giving you a much softer kiss before escorting you back inside.  Jason and company did not wait more than 30 seconds before starting the inquisition via text after you sat down.  
Jason: Did you just make out with him?
You: Did you seriously just make this a group text?
Jason: We were ALL thinking it, so YES.  
Tina: Answer the question!
You: Maybe
Jason: Told you! I knew it! You go girl!
You: I’m turning off my phone. I love you guys.
Tom leaned over and kissed your temple while holding your hand.  You squeezed back and filled him in on your nosy but loving friends.  That smile.
“It was worth an inquisition.”  He turned back to the stage as the curtain rose, feeling your excitement build.
You gladly accompanied Tom backstage to meet the cast and crew, who were starstruck and grateful for his praise.  He asked questions that caused a flurry of hands and voices that made him laugh in appreciation of its energy.  He answered their questions, many about his own Shakespearean work, that made them nod.  He asked the director for his info, and remarked that though he might need a bit of a break from all the visual input, he could not wait to experience another play in ASL.  You both took your leave to meet up with your friends at a local pub, Tom excitedly talking about the show and pulling you into his side, his arm wrapped around your shoulders.
You slid into the backseat of the Uber and leaned back, your eyes closed, while Tom continued sharing his thoughts on the evening.  You realized he was no longer talking and lolled your head to the left, met his eyes, and smiled as he quieted.
“I’m sorry for the running on, darling, this is all new for me.  I can’t wait to think about it, learn more about it.  He closed the miniscule distance between you and kissed you while your eyes fluttered shut.  Your right hand gently laid against his cheek as you assured him you were thrilled that it lived up to all your hype and that yes, you were up to meeting your friends out for dinner.
The long table stretched across the largest part of the pub’s eating area and you guided Tom to sit where he would be able to hear you interpreting what was being signed.  He thought it was a good spot to give you a discreet kiss or two, but he had something else to learn about Deaf people - there wasn’t much that slipped by them.  You laughed and blushed and edited the snarky (but well-meant) comments directed at you, but that didn’t stop him from keeping his hands on or near you and nuzzling your neck when you weren’t actively signing.  You were happy.
Dinner was loud, fun, and over the top, like most Deaf-friendly events that included alcohol and a group of people who could all understand each other.  You did your best to keep him in the loop and participate in the conversation in your own way, only stopping to eat and drink and take a break or two to get some fresh air.  
When you were outside taking a minute to let your brain rest, Tom followed, sidled up next to you and held your face carefully in his hands.
“You are such a rare woman.  Thank you for tonight and thank you for letting me kiss you before, and now.” You eagerly met him, only to be interrupted by the group waving and shouting to get your attention.
His smile was tired. “I guess we’re being paged?”  You decided you would go in, say your goodnights, and head back to the hotel, but you were sidetracked by the promise of dessert.  As you shared warm pie and ice cream with your date, Jason banged on the table to get everyone’s attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we are together to celebrate the fantastic performance of Romeo and Juliet.  Good friends, good food, and good times make me feel very lucky and, on a personal note, I want to welcome back my best friend and former roommate, who we’ve all missed so much.”
As everyone cheered, you toasted the table, and agreed how nice it was to share the time with them.  Jason wasn’t done yet, though.  He looked directly at you with nothing but love in his eyes.
“I want to tell you, my dear one, how happy we all are that you’ve brought Tom with you and that you are happy.  We all miss him, but I know your John is looking down and smiling at your happiness.”
Your words stopped coming for Tom’s benefit as you watched Jason be happy for you.  He looked at your face, devoid of color, and your chest, rising and falling more quickly than it had been.
“You ok?”
You shook your head with a tiny, quiet side-to-side nod as the rest of the table looked at you.  The lack of movement and voices and energy clued Tom in that something was wrong.  As he looked at you with concern, you assured him you were fine, scooted to the edge of the seat, and hurriedly excused yourself to the restroom.  You were gone from the table no more than one minute after Jason started his speech.
Tom looked at Jason and pointed to your path, asking what happened with only an expression.  Other hearing people at the table took over signing for him and voicing for the others.  Jason started where he left off.
“I’m not sure.”
“I don’t think so, she was fine, then you mentioned someone looking down at her, seeing how happy she is, and she just stopped translating.”  Jason took a deep breath in and out, trilling his lips and shutting his eyes for a minute.  He looked at Tom and nodded, before signing.
“Shit.  Yes, John.  Her husband.”
Now it was Tom’s turn to stop cold.  “I’m sorry, what? She’s married?” Thoughts rushed through his brain that didn’t add up.  Now a headache was upon him.  He shook his head and looked at Jason again, a table full of people following his every move with their eyes.
“She WAS married, yes.  John was another one of our roommates, my best friend.  A little while after they graduated and moved into their own place, he got sick.  He was gone too soon.”
Tom was reeling.  He had known you for all of a few days, you didn’t owe him your life’s story, but your reaction to Jason’s comment had him wondering how recent this loss was, how much you were still hurting.  He stood, ready to check on you, when you walked up, coat and bag in hand.  Jason got to you first and no one translated.
“Oh my God love I am so so sorry, please believe me.  I never meant to upset you, to hurt you.”
“I know you didn’t, J.  I’m surprised how hard it hit me.  I think I should go back to the hotel.”
“Let me go with you.” and he turned to grab his coat.  You banged your hand on the table to get his attention.
“No.  I want to be alone.”  He looked at you, hurt on his face.  You smiled weakly and assured him nothing was going to happen to you, that you just wanted to sit with your feelings for awhile, alone.
“Let me say goodnight to everyone.  Please stay and enjoy yourself.  For me.” You waved to everyone who understood what you had just said and turned to Tom, who was standing in wait with his coat over his arm.
“Let’s go, darling.  I’ll get you back to the hotel.” As kind as that was, you needed to be alone with your memories, sit with your feelings, and move on.  You couldn’t do that while trying to make other people feel comfortable with your sadness.  You asked him to walk you out, but then asked for what you needed - time alone.  You kissed his cheek and softly apologized for how the evening ended, slipping into the cab and closing your eyes as you drove away.
Tom watched you drive away, quickly thanked everyone, and made his exit.  He’d planned to take you to see the World War II Memorial, he’d been told it was a beautiful thing to see at night, but instead was  thinking about your face, how hurt and sad you were, and wondered how he could help, if you would let him help.
Tom: I hope you find your peace tonight, darling.
You: Thank you Tom.  I hope so, too.
Tom: Can I check in on you later?
You: Maybe tomorrow? I think I’ll go to bed early.
Tom: Of course.  I have your number ;)
Chapter 4
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leowantsfood · 6 years
Text
Not Your Fault - Haprvor Oneshot
A\N ~ Hello there!Since I've never actually written out a fully fledged one-shot like this on paper or on any kind of typing program, I'm not sure how this is gonna turn out.
Enjoy! ~
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Ivor couldn't sleep.
Which was partly unsuprising, since he was currently being held captive by three (two if he didn't count Otto, which he didn't really, but still, he didn't know what to think of him yet,) megalomaniacs in a freezing snow biome, being forced to sleep on wooden slabs covered with dyed carpets. There wasn't a single real bed to be seen in the cabin he, Jesse, Petra, and Lukas were staying in. Though, what was so completely disbelieving to him was the fact that he wasn't sleeping at all, considering the day he just had.
Ivor turned around on the fake bed for the fourth, fifth time that night? He wasn't sure. He was too distracted to think clearly or sleep for that matter. Across the room from him, Jesse was laying on another one of the "beds" that was dyed green. The young hero was fidgeting in his sleep, letting out quiet whimpers, probably in the midst of a nightmare. Ivor's heart cracked a bit at Jesse's frightened expression. He guessed that he was dreaming about what had happened in the arena during the spleef game. Jesse had a chance to save him, and he took it, instead of Petra, who would have probably been a much better choice than saving Ivor. After all... What had Ivor done for Jesse? After all he did for him?
He was about to quietly make his way over to Jesse when he spotted movement outside of the door to their room. He saw the richness of their dark brown skin and eyes and their pure white locks...
Ivor perked up as Harper crept past the door, probably being wary of waking anyone. Although he still wanted to comfort Jesse from his nightmare, he couldn't stop himself from quietly creeping to the door and peeking around the corner to snatch a quick glance at Harper. Ivor felt his heart speed up and a red tint rising into his cheeks as he watched Harper continue on down the hallway. He placed his hand on his chest and tried to slow down his beating heart. Ivor wasn't surprised that she had gotten these kinds of reaction out of him lately, since every time Harper popped into his thoughts or she gave him a grin, a red flushed would appear on his face. He still remembered what he had said about her back in the tunnels to her secret lab...
I must say that woman has been a most intriguing person so far. I'm still not entirely sure what to make of her... Granted, her creation nearly ended up destroying this world. But, considering my own history, I'm inclined to giving her the benefit of the doubt-
'Intriguing', Ivor? Why whatever do you mean by that?
I-What? It's nothing. I just mean that I can empathize when it comes to your creations getting out of hand. Nothing more-
A-hem, careful with all that sputtering. You'll swallow your beard.
Ivor also remembered how Jesse had mercilessly teased him about it, and how Harper had oh-so-unfortunately overheard.
W-What did you hear!? I-It was nothing!
Uhh huh.
Ivor shook his head to clear away the memory, but it still lingered in the back of his mind. Even though his head told him to go back to sleep so he would be ready for whatever 'The Games' had for him and Jesse tommorow, he felt his heart giving a strong tug as he watched Harper disapear around another corner. Despite his inhibitions, Ivor quietly tip-toed down the hallway after Harper.
But, before he turned the corner, Ivor stopped dead in his tracks.
What am I doing!? I can't do this! The only times I've talked to her, other people were there! And I'm already fumbling with my words enough already, how am I going to talk to her clearly with her alone?
Even though his thoughts were practically screaming at himself to not do this, he forced himself to take a deep breath, turned the corner...
And stopped again. But it wasn't from his doubts.
It was from what he saw.
Harper was on the balcony that hung over the dorms entrance, her elbows propped up on the dark oak railing. She was staring at the star flecked sky absentmindedly, looking to be deep in thought. But what had caught Ivor's attention was that she had taken her hood off, revealing all of her white hair to the outside. It was the first time Ivor had seen her with it taken off...
And he thought she looked absolutely beautiful. Ivor's vision went cloudy.
"You might wanna shut your trap there, sweetie."
Ivor eyes snapped back into focus, and realized that Harper had turned to face him, the corners of her mouth twitched upward in a teasing grin with one eyebrow raised. He had also realized that his mouth had dropped opened in amazement.
Ivor's face turned cherry red, quickly shutting his mouth, hoping that the darkness was concealing the dark color staining his usually pale face, "S-Sorry! I-I-I didn't mean to- I-I was j-just- I just w-wanted t-to-"
Ivor paused and reordered his words correctly, "I-I just saw you come down here, and I was w-wondering if I could... j-join you?" Ivor looked down at the floor, his face red, immediately feeling extremely stupid.
"Course' you can, Ivor," Harper smiled at him warmly, still a teasing hint in her voice.
"O-Ok," Ivor smiled nervously and placed himself next to Harper, propping his elbows onto the railing just as she had.
Both of them stayed quiet in a half-comfortable half-awkward silence as they both observed the night sky silently. After a few minutes, Ivor noticed Harper's expression change slightly. Her stance still seemed normal, but a soft look of pain was in her eyes, and the small smile that was on her lips seemed more forced than it had been before. Ivor hesitated before gently placing a hand on her shoulder. Her head snapped over to his, her eyebrows slightly raised in surprised, but the pained look still in her eyes.
Ivor forced the flush on his face to stay put. "A-Are you ok?" He asked her softly. Harper hesitated, the sighed.
"Do you remember back in Crown Mesa after Jesse took down PAMA... Do you remember what the people said about me?"
"...Yes" Ivor turned his gaze away. He could remember it all too well.
So, are we supposed to forgive her now?
No, I don't think so.
A small scowl appeared on Ivor's face before he quickly softened it.
"They're probably right about me."
Ivor's head turned back to Harper again, "Harper, that is not-"
"But it is," She insisted, sounding very defeated, "If I hadn't decided to created PAMA in the first place then theg would still be the happy, normal town they were before. You, and the others might not be stuck in the mess we're in now..."
Ivor took his other hand, placed it on her other shoulder, and turned her so that she was facing him. A surprised look shone in her eyes. Ivor was surprised with his actions as well, but he began to speak.
"Harper, it was not your fault that PAMA went rouge, or that we're stuck here. PAMA wanted everything to be useful, not you! And it's because of Hadrian's stubbornness that we can't leave! Stop blaming yourself for everything that's been happening to us, because it is not because of you!"
"But I-"
"No," The firmness in Ivor's voice surprised him as well as Harper, "I am not going to let you take the blame when you don't deserve it. I created something that almost destroyed an entire world and I never stopped blaming myself! But Jesse helped me overcome that guilt, so I want to help you too, because someone like you shouldn't have all that guilt weighed on you, especially when you don't deserve it."
Harper chocolate brown eyes were wide. She tried to find something to say, but she was too shocked to speak, "I-Ivor..."
Ivor blinked, slowly realising the words that just poured out of his mouth. His cheeks were tinted pink once more.
"S-Sorry," He mumbled, releasing the grip that his hands had on her shoulders, "I-I didn't mean to come off so fiercely, I just thought that you-"
His quiet apology ended with a sudden yelp as Harper threw her arms around his neck and buried her face on his shoulder. Ivor's arms were frozen in midair, too shocked to move. After a few seconds, his arms slowly wrapped around her, a goofy smile and a red blush on his face.
"Do you really mean that?" Harper murmured, her face buried in his shoulder.
"Y-Yes," Ivor replied, making sure not to let any stuttering enter his voice (he didn't succeed), " I-I'm sure of it."
Harper lifted her head from his shoulder and shot him a small, grateful smile. She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his cheek softly.
"Thank you."
________________________________________________________________
FLUUUUUUFFFFFFF! X3
I LOVE HARPVOR SO MUCH.
Hope you enjoyed! :)
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thepatricktreestump · 6 years
Text
I Love Her Anyway: Chapter 15
A/N: ok so i’ve been rereading some of these chapters and there’s a shit ton of typos, grammar mistakes, random letters and spaces throughout them- i think you should know that while i type my bearded dragon likes to jump on my keyboard and i don’t always catch the little mistakes he adds so if you catch those, blame him because i spend hours rereading and editing only for him to trample on my keyboard like the little shit he is sooo this has been a psa thanks for coming to my ted talk
the tag list that i apologize to for having experienced the pain of ch14: @cupcakesweetness @un-amoosed-padalecki @mtb04308 @dragonqueendany @kitykatnumber @svintsandghosts @greatheromuffinpalace @echoloki @geekybeauty8793 @jigglypuff1999 @timisnotmontydlc @galaxy-moon @lugialagia @pageoftheclouds @moveondontholdon @myaestheticsareshit @brendonuriehimself @yagirlcammmm @vessyvk @loverontheleft @rupphirerydenphan @uriellybrendon @converse-or-vans @amazingtyjo @pettyiestpersonyouknow
to the people who have asked to be tagged this past week: *politely whispering* um, sorry but no
               Days at the bakery are slow and boring. Being at school feels like being imprisoned. Staying at home is even worse, hours of lying in bed crying, texting and calling and emailing only to find no response. It went on for weeks. Days upon days of depression, people asking if you were okay, your parents even thinking you were sick. You couldn’t even muster up a smile. Your brother even brought you home some ice cream one day, as much of a prick as he was. Everyone could sense something was wrong, but it was you who sensed it the most. It was like your life was falling apart without him there to be the glue to hold it all together. You needed him. So much.
               The pain only got worse, more vomiting and headaches, and also being hungry. Like, really fucking hungry. You craved the blueberry muffins at the bakery and begged Ashley to bake you batches to take home, mowing them down one after another. You were kind of worried about developing an eating disorder, but you reassured yourself it was better than turning towards a worse form of self-harm, especially after the break up. You strayed away from kids at school, became particularly quiet, and spent your lunches in the library rather than the cafeteria. You wanted to be alone.
               You were throwing up in the employee bathroom for the third time this week when Ashley knocked on the door. “Hey honey?” she called out. “Maybe just take off your shift, okay?”
               “No, I’m fine,” you reassure, flushing the toilet and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before opening up the door. “I’m alright.”
               “You sure it’s just being sick? This has been going on for about a month or two now,” she frowns. There’s a pause. “Are you late?”
               “What?” you raise an eyebrow. “No, I came five minutes early today.”
               “No,” she shakes her head. “Like, late. Period late.”
               “Well…” you feel sick at the realization. “It’s been three months but I’m sure it’s just irregular or something.”
               “Is there a chance?” she whispers. “You know? That you might be… pregnant?”
               “What?” your eyes widen. “No, no, of course not.” You laugh nervously, but fuck, there so definitely is. Especially after all the shit you and Brendon were pulling, or I guess, not pulling, last month. He reassured you that you’d be fine, and you didn’t think much of it, but shit. You didn’t use condoms and you were usually so fucked up you didn’t even really pay attention. Fuck. There was no way. Was there? You felt even more sick.
               “Oh, well maybe see a doctor?” she suggests. “Anyways, I want you to go home. Rest up. I’ll see you back here next week.”
               “Okay,” you complied.
               However, you didn’t just go home. Instead you drove to the nearest gas station, heart racing in your chest, fiddling thumbs and wobbly knees perusing the aisles until you landed on a pregnancy test in a tiny slender box. You had to find out somehow, right? You bit down on your lower lip as you approached the cashier, setting it on the counter silently. You hand over the cash and then he hands you the bag, you nodding in thanks before heading back to your car. When you get home, you race to your room and lock the door, heading to your bathroom and tearing the box open. You read the directions with hazy vision and do as told, then set it on the sink and wait. It’s the longest three minutes of your life. You’re almost hitting the mark when you hear your mom walk through the door and you scramble up out of your seat when she calls your name.
               “Y/n! Help me carry these groceries!” she shouts.
               You race down the stairs to help her, easily getting side tracked once she asks you to wash the dishes and then help cook dinner. You forget about the ordeal completely. You’re at dinner and your dad is rambling on about how some inspector is coming in to check the building tomorrow and your mom is talking about some new television show airing tomorrow night and your brother is blabbing about some football player who got injured and can’t play for the team anymore. Instead your mind is focused on the food, getting seconds and thirds, making your mom chuckle.
               “Really enjoying the food, huh?” your dad laughs.
               “Just hungry,” you shrug, piling more into your mouth.
               After dinner, you’re sitting on the sofa when you hear your mom call your name again. You don’t give it a second thought, switching the television off and going to go find her. That is, until you see her at the doorway of your room with your father, holding your pregnancy test in her hand. You turn pale and you think you just might pass out. This was not at all how you thought it would go. “What the fuck is this?” she holds it up for you to see. “Are you pregnant? Are you kidding me right now, y/n?”
               “I- I, I, I don’t…” you stammer, dumbstruck.
               “Talk. Now,” your father demands. “Is this real? Are you pregnant? Have you been having sex with boys? Is that where you’ve been those past few months, staying the nights at friend’s houses? You’re really out being a whore? Disgusting.”
               “You need to realize that your actions have consequences,” your mom scolds. “I can’t believe you. We trusted you.”
               “You need to tell me who this young man is right now,” your dad insists. “This instant.”
               “He’s just my boyfriend,” you quickly lie, going along with what they had implied. “I was staying at his house when I told you I watched the movie and hung out with friends and went shopping and stuff. I met him at school, we’re not together anymore, I just-”
               “Jesus Christ,” your parents shake their heads.
               “Y/n, I can’t believe you,” your mom stares at you, devastated. “Really? Pregnant?”
               “I didn’t-” you stop trying to save yourself at this point. It’s no use.
               The rest of the night is full of yelling, screaming, explaining using fibs and lies, your brother eavesdropping from the other room. You break your phone on purpose before they can get it, smashing it on the bathroom tile before drowning it in the sink. If they ever saw your texts between you and Brendon, you’d be toast, and things would only get a thousand times worse. They get even angrier once they find out what you’ve done to your phone, but you don’t care. If you can save him at least, then it will be worth it. But you have to talk to him somehow.
               Your parents strictly instruct you that you’re grounded. You’re only allowed to leave for school, work, then straight home and in your room. You don’t know how long it will last. They schedule appointments for getting you tested for sexual diseases, which you’re embarrassed about, as well as a gynecologist and a pregnancy doctor. It seems a little early to you, but your parents are relentless and aren’t in any mood to argue. You didn’t really care to be pregnant. It only made the reminder of him leaving you even more engrained in your mind, in your body, in your soul. It only made you miss him more. Plus, you felt miserable, shitty, crampy, sweaty, hot, hungry, and bloated. Night after night you would lay awake, missing him, worrying about the future, and holding your hand over your stomach, wondering how the hell this all happened in the first place anyways.
               It’s in the middle of school, during your lunch in the library, when you’re on the computer and the notification pops up. It’s the last thing you would ever expect. Brendon. You have to blink to make sure you’re seeing it right. Your heart almost falls out of your chest when you click on the email he’s sent you and you begin to read. “Dear y/n, I’m sorry for the way things have turned out. I didn’t mean to have to leave you. In fact, it was never my choice. I would do anything to try and save you, but I know if I would make a move, it would only hurt you, and I would never want that. I am sorry I haven’t contacted you sooner, my workers have kept a close eye on me ever since our split, and I’m not even alone in the office anymore seeing as I’ve been hired a new secretary. She’s not nearly as beautiful as you are, and her humor is bland and boring. I miss you, so very much. Anyways, enough of the babble. Your father had spoken to me about the new discovery, and I can only imagine I’m the culprit of the situation. You’re pregnant, is what he tells me. And if I know you well enough, you haven’t been off fucking other guys so quickly after the split, because neither have I. It has to be from us, and I apologize about it. We need to see each other and we need to work this out. From what your father tells me is that you said it was a boyfriend at school, which is quick thinking and I like it, but we need to be real. We need to do this together. I plan on having a meeting with my workers tonight and updating them. Maybe they will change their minds. Nobody knows I’m sending this email to you, so please don’t respond. Instead look for me at the bakery during your shift this week. I’ll be there. I’m not giving up on us. I’m not giving up on you. With all the love I possess, Brendon.”
                You don’t know what to think or say. Instead you just press your hand to your stomach and think that everything’s going to be alright. He’s still there for you, he’s still thinking of you, and he still loves you. That’s all you could ever ask for. The rest of the day you constantly find yourself checking the clock, waiting until you can get out and head to the bakery. You wonder what he’s going to do. Your mom’s already instructed Ashley to keep your working and to make sure you’re there on time and to text her when you leave. They’ve been running a tight ship ever since the night of chaos, and you’ve barely even had time to yourself unless you’re at school. Which by the way, you faked a name to your parents to pose as your fake boyfriend, which accidentally actually ended up being a boy at your school, and you kind of got him a restraining order by accident, but that was the least of your problems. You don’t even understand how it could’ve happened, seeing as he probably didn’t even know you and couldn’t attest to you guys ever having sex in the first place, but somehow, it happened. It was word of the school for a good two days and even some of your friends came up to you bugging you about it. Nobody knew you were pregnant though. Nobody but your parents and brother, and now Brendon of course. Everyone else just thought you were in deep shit, did something crazy, pissed your parents off, and now you were watched like a hawk. They weren’t wrong. That all did happen.
               As soon as he walks into the bakery you can barely breathe. All you want is to run up to him and wrap him in your arms, hold him tight, kiss him on the lips, tell him how much you’ve missed him. But you can’t. Instead you stand there, limbs shaking, feet glued to the ground, staring at him like an idiot behind the counter. “Hey, I’d like a slice of apple pie. Boxed and for the road,” he simply orders. “And one brownie.”
               “C-coming right up,” you stammer, calculating his order and fetching a box and a bag to put his goodies in. He hands you the cash and that’s when you notice a piece of paper folded up on top of the dollar bills, and so you take that and stick it in your pocket. He nods with approval, giving a smile.
               “Thanks,” he says, taking his things and leaving.
               It’s just that simple. Just that quick. And still not enough.
               The piece of paper tucked inside your pocket feels as if it’s burning all throughout your shift. You’re itching you go open it up and read what’s inside. You even almost go to use the restroom just so you can read it, but realize that if you do that, it would only be eating you up even more. So you wait. You take on customers and fill out orders and count the money and then get off shift, driving home, thinking of him and only him. The way he walked in, still in his work clothes, dark eyes, wide smile, smooth gait, confident stature. You missed him. So much.
               As soon as you go home to use the restroom, you lock the door and unfold the piece of paper, eyes darting around to make sense of the message. “I love you y/n. I’ve talked to the workers and I think they understand now. At least a little better than they once did. Although they don’t agree with what we’ve done, they agree with what we plan to do, and that’s getting through this together. Tomorrow when you get to school, I want you to ask to go to the nurse’s office at exactly eleven. That’s my lunch break and that’s when I’ll be there to pick you up. You’re coming with me. Don’t go to the nurse, simply leave your classroom with the hallway pass and head straight to the back door, the one by the band room. I’ll be there, I’ll be waiting. If something comes up and this isn’t possible, then expect to see me at the bakery your next shift. We need to talk and figure things out. Hang in there. And take care of the baby for me. Give them a kiss and all of my love. Missing you like hell, Brendon.” Your heart hurts just reading it. You take the note and carefully stick it behind the mirror hanging on your bathroom wall, then wash your hands and head down to dinner. As hard as the thought is to believe, you can’t wait to go to school tomorrow. You think you just might explode.
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moody-by-nature · 6 years
Text
Rescue Me|Chapter Twelve
The sounds of their moans and heavy breathing filled the hotel room. Jared thrusted his still fully clothed body against Andrea, "Ah, J..." she moaned, and snapped her hips in rhythm. Jared slid his hand underneath her shirt, up to her left breast, nipping the skin on her neck between kisses.
Andrea hissed and bucked her hips against him in response. Jared's phone rang from across the room, going ignored. Andrea slipped her hands under Jared's shirt, roaming his back and dug her nails into his skin.
Immediately, his phone rang again and Andrea pushed him away. Her chest heaved as she spoke, "You should probably get that, it's important if they've called back that quick." Jared seized her lips once more, "You're more important than whoever that is." He replied.
Andrea smiled into his kiss, "That's sweet, but," Jared sighed, interrupting her, "The moment is over, huh?" He thrusted his hips into her once more, making her moan. "You don't play fair, J."  With another slow thrust, "You're the one stopping me." He said with a wink as he bit at her bottom lip.
Jared stopped his movement, but Andrea still felt his semi-hardness against her mound and it drove her insane. "I know, and I'm sorry." She sighed, Looking up at him as he hovered over her and placed her hands on his arms.
"Don't be sorry for stopping something you aren't ready for." Jared said, leaning down to place a sweet kiss on her lips. Andrea turned her head to kiss the red symbol on his right wrist before she playfully bit him.
He pulled himself away and swatted her lightly on her ass, "You're going to pay for that someday." He threatened lightly as he walked to his phone, "It was Shannon, I'm going to sit out on the balcony to call him back." Andrea nodded from her position on the bed, watching him perch himself on the side of the balcony. His face illuminated by his screen, "Hey, bro." was the last thing she heard before she drifted to sleep.
Jared returned inside to find a sleeping Andrea. Suddenly struck by an idea, he called down to the front desk asking for assistance with their bags. Once they are loaded into the back of the SUV, Jared returned to the room. He scooped her into his arms, and whispered into her ear. "I can't sleep, so I decided to drive some more. I have a surprise for you." He gently placed her in the back seat, on the pillow provided by the hotel staff and covered her with a blanket, kissing her temple before taking off.
They arrived in Joshua Tree, California, just before dawn on Christmas morning. Jared stopped at a quaint little Air BNB he was lucky to obtain last minute through a friend of his.
The early morning sunlight flowed through the curtains. Andrea cracked an eye open taking in her surroundings. She furrowed her eyebrow in confusion, 'there was a balcony there last night' she thought.
She turned onto her right side to find a Jared, still sound asleep. Lightly snoring, his lips parted slightly, long hair tousled around him. The memory of last night floated through her mind and she smiled. It was so sexy when he threw her against that wall, the way his hand felt on her throat. The way he felt against her. Her memory caused a small moan escape her lips, she ached to be closer to him.
With a shaky hand, she reached across and pushed Jared's hair from his eyes to get a better view of him and scooted closer. "Merry Christmas, beautiful." Jared croaked. Andrea jumped, not expecting him to speak. Eyes still closed, he let out a breathy laugh. Through a smile, she replied, "First of all, if you could actually see me, you'd realize I'm not beautiful. And you scared me! It's not nice to play opossum."
He pushed her over onto her back, halfway hovered over her, propped up on his elbow. "First of all, Andrea," he paused, raising an eyebrow, "when I tell you you're beautiful, I fucking mean it. Are we clear?" His tone serious.
Andrea gulped and nodded her head. "Answer me." He commanded. "Yes, Jared." She replied instantly, quickly raising her head to plant a chaste kiss on his lips, "Thank you." Jared lowered his head and placed a kiss on Andrea's forehead and then on her lips.
Andrea cupped his face and smiled, "By the way, remind me once we start working to add 'successful kidnapper' to your CV!" Jared laid back down and laughed, "You were out cold. After I got off the phone with Shannon, I had the idea to bring you here. I always try to celebrate my birthday here if I can."
"Where exactly is here?" Andrea asked. She propped herself up on her elbows to get a look at the room. The first thing that caught her attention was the architecture of the room. Half dome shaped and stuccoed, the walls all white and hardwood floors. Around the room were various pots filled with succulents, a telescope that sat next to a cozy chair adjacent the window.
Andrea turned her head to Jared expectantly, "We're in Joshua Tree." Andrea squealed and jumped up onto her knees. She threw a leg over Jared and straddled him, "I've always wanted to come here!"
Jared's hands automatically moved to her hips, massaging her skin. Andrea leaned forward and pushed her lips to his, grabbing at his muscular shoulders. Jared pushed her away to arms length, "Andie, please don't take what I say next the wrong way, but we can't do this. You aren't ready for it." Andie pulled her arms from his grasp, "How do you know what I am and am not ready for? Do you read minds now, too?"
"It would be so much easier if I did. He mumbled, as Andie rolled off of him. "Come on, Andie, please. Let's go on an adventure, I'll take you climbing! We both need to clear our minds. It's taking a lot of energy to turn you down, trust me."
Andrea threw her arms up in surrender, "Fine! Let's go climb a fucking mountain." Andrea shouted sarcastically, making Jared chuckle. She cut her eyes and glared at him.
Jared gripped her chin between his thumb and index finger, "Look at me!" He commanded. She lifted her eyes to his, "Knock it off, Andrea. Lighten up a little or I'll bend you over my knee and spank your ass raw." Jared watched as Andrea squirmed slightly, her eyes lighting up with excitement.
"Good girl." He breathed, planting a kiss on her lips.
Thanks to Jared's teaching skills, Andrea's first attempt to climb was a success. A small, but challenging task as a beginner, she sat perched atop the cliff side and watched Jared make his last couple of moves to ascend to the top. He sat beside her and watched the sun fade away and the moon rise over the valley.
"What has been your favorite part of the trip so far?"
Jared smiled, "It's been a great week. Seeing where you grew up, meeting your family. Throwing you against that wall and kissing you."
"I told you I'm an orphan. That wasn't my family." Jared rolled his eyes, "Whatever. You look just like your dad. They're great. Embrace the crazy." He nudged her arm, "What's been your favorite part so far?
Andrea tapped her finger on her jaw and hummed, "First, I must say the fact that we have survived almost two thousand miles in a car together without strangling each other is wonderful. I think we really have a shot at working together."
"You ignored me for the first ten hours!"
"You almost kissed me and then apologized for it! That hurt my feelings, Jared! Then you throw me against the wall and kiss me like I've never been kissed. What happened right after that and again earlier today. You're giving me whiplash!
"I love sleeping with you. You know, I've not done that in years." Andie's face showed her confusion, so Jared continued, "Slept beside someone. They always left afterwards. I didn't want to have that kind of intimacy with any of them."
"This is exactly what I'm talking about by the way. You push and then pull. Back and forth. You drive me insane!"
She pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on her knees. Jared remained silent. "I really like it too, by the way. Waking up snuggled into you doesn't suck."
"We have to figure this out, J. Before we start working together. Maybe we should end, whatever this is before it begins."
Jared adjusted his cap, turning it around backwards, before looking at her, "Is that what you want, Andrea?"
"What do you want?" Andrea asked, "I want you to answer my question."
Andrea bounced her knee against the rock nervously, "I want to be someone's best friend, the love of their life. The reason they stay faithful. Someone to fight and then make up with. Their everything. Someone that I can take care of and that will take care of me. Someone that will love me when I'm being a moody pain in the ass. A man that knows what I need even when I don't." Andrea sighed, "I'll probably die a virgin, I'm too fucking complicated."
Jared wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer, "You are complicated, I'll give you that. Sassy, moody, and yeah, even a major pain in the ass more often than not. But I have enjoyed every minute of the days we've spent together thus far. As far as the other things you just said, you deserve each and every one of them.  When you find him, he will be the luckiest bastard in the entire world."
Andrea giggled and gave Jared a peck on the cheek. She cupped his face in her hands, gently scratching her fingers through his short beard watching him smile, "You deserve those things too, you know that, right Jared? Because sometimes you act like you don't."
"I'm starting to." He said, staring into her eyes, running his thumb down the side of her face and across her bottom lip.
Andie bit her lip and smiled, "Let's get off this rock before I fall to my death."
Jared stood and pulled Andie to her feet. "No worries, follow me." He led her across to the other side of the rock to a smooth trail. Andrea looked at Jared, "I'd hit you if my arms didn't hurt so bad. This was here and we climbed up instead of walking up?"
"Tell me you didn't enjoy challenging yourself." Jared laughed. "I hate you." Andie chuckled and took off down the trail.
Jared decided to celebrate his birthday in a low key fashion, so they stayed two more days. They hiked daily and spent their evenings relaxing in the hammock reading before heading back to LA.
It was New Year's Eve and Andrea was invited to a party being held for Jared's employees. She put on her favorite slinky red dress and headed off to Jared's.
It was just before nine when she arrived and let herself in. Shayla was the first familiar face she encountered, "Andrea! Wow, you look great, love that dress!"
"Thanks! It's old, but a favorite." The girls sat on the couch catching up on life. "Are you excited to get started working?"
"I really am! I have a lot to learn, but I love a challenge. Are you thirsty? I'm going to get a drink." Andrea stated.
"No, I'm good thanks, just had a glass of Jamie's punch, it's delicious!" Shayla replied. "Oh, punch sounds good! I'm going to get some. See you in a bit."
Four glasses of punch later, Andrea is dancing the night away with Jamie and Shayla when she noticed Jared watching from the corner. Andrea finished her punch and sashayed over to Jared.
She wrapped her arms around his wrists and pulled him into the hall. "Hello, handsome." Andrea purred, her lips centimeters from Jared's. She pushed a kiss on his lips, her tongue darted out, gliding along his lower lip before she bit down gently. "Hello, beautiful." Jared moaned, his hands instantly on her hips.
Andrea continued her sensual attack, nibbling along his jawline to his ear. Her tongue laved at the hollow of his neck before she moved to his clavicle and bit down. Jared hissed, then groaned when Andrea latched her mouth to his skin, distracting from the pain.
Desire flooded her veins, she wanted him, all of him. Dropping to her knees right there in the hallway, her face nuzzled into Jared's crotch. "You smell good" She muttered, her mouth sucking and kissing on him through his jeans. Jared panted, "Fuck, Andrea!" and pulled her by the nape of her neck. He crashed his lips to hers. "How much have you had to drink?"
"I haven't had any alcohol," she stated firmly, "just punch all night. It's so good!"
Jared instantly knew Andrea was wasted and picked her up over his shoulder. He carefully climbed the stairs and entered his bedroom. Laying her on the bed gently, he removed her shoes. Andrea spread her legs wide, her dress slid up her legs revealing her red thong. Jared bit his lip cursing internally as she moaned and touched herself. "Jared please, please make love to me."
He attempted to put her legs together, but she maneuvered quickly, catching him off guard, pulled him to her chest and wrapped her long legs around him. Andrea kissed him fervently, grinding her hips into his moaning his name.
"Mmm, J. I love your lips, they're so perfect. I bet they'd feel amazing on my pussy!" She giggled. Jared closed his eyes and groaned, getting lost in that thought and her for a moment before he snapped out of it. "Baby, stop! You're wasted. We can't do this as much as I fucking want to." He growled forcing himself off of her body.
Andrea started sobbing, "You don't want me, I knew it!" She yelled.
"Andrea, you couldn't be more wrong, I do want you. But I want you to be sober and realize what you're saying. It would be wrong to have you this way. You've had too much to drink, baby. Go to sleep, I'm right here." He settled back into bed beside her listening to the beat of the music downstairs as he watched her, "Hey, you just called me Baby." She smiled, drifting off to sleep.
Jared kissed her forehead, "Happy New Year, baby."
12 notes · View notes
kumkaniudaku · 6 years
Text
Take Me Out
A/N: Happy Birthday to my girl @yaachtynoboat711. I hope this is to your liking. If not, we’ll give it another shot. 
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Everyone has their own piece of Heaven on Earth. Your’s just happened to be baseball. While most people saw March as the first break of Spring, you considered March the beginning of the greatest sporting season on Earth. Since you were old enough to understand the wonder of baseball, you dreamed of seeing your beloved Washington Nationals in person. Unfortunately, childhood rapidly dissipated into the hustle and bustle of adulthood and the likelihood of fulfilling your wish seemed to wane.
Until he came along.
“Baby girl, should we wear the home or away jerseys today?”
Your face lit up as Chadwick held assorted jerseys to his chest for you to choose from, “Let’s do the home jersey. I like the white on your skin.”
He smirked at you, “Eh, I’d rather have on a Braves jersey but, if it makes you happy, I’ll do whatever.” Sliding the sleeves over his arms, he turned to the mirror to examine his outfit. The jersey remained unbuttoned, leaving his solid chest and torso open for your consumption. Your hands found their way to your neck, clutching your imaginary pearls as your breath hitched. The silence of the room exposed you, making your embarrassingly shaky breathing bounce off the walls louder than you intended. Chadwick turned to face you, tilting his head to the side curiously.  “You sure you wanna go out, Yaa? You look out of it and we haven’t went out in this Atlanta heat.”
“Y-yeah,” you stammered, trying to remember what the day’s purpose was. If he didn’t cover himself soon, you weren’t sure that you could keep your cool in the friendship.
Chadwick was everything you wanted in a partner and then some. Not only did he meet your physical wishes, he was smart, talented and a genuine person. 
You never intended for feelings to grow on your end. Heeding the warnings of your mother and friends, it was foolish to attach emotions to an artist on any level. Women threw themselves at him whenever they could, oftentimes ignoring your presence or interrupting conversations to speak and ultimately be declined. Chadwick’s time was valuable and adding a relationship to the mix at the height of his career would only complicate things for him.
But, you couldn’t help your feelings. 
Sometimes you wished that he wouldn’t hold doors open for you or spend time doting over you and your accomplishments so that you could detach from him and keep the relationship platonic. His constant attention and admiration made it difficult to separate friend Chadwick from the imaginary relationship you created in your head.
“Alright, it’s time to go,” He exclaimed, emerging from the bathroom of his downtown Atlanta hotel suite. “If we time it right, we can get to Suntrust early enough to get a drink before I show you your surprises.”
Your face scrunched in fake annoyance, “Chad, I done told you already that I don’t need any surprises. All I need is baseball and a beer.”
“Since when have I ever listened to you? Let me treat you to your first baseball game the way you’re supposed to enjoy it.” His eyebrows wiggled in excitement as he waited for your frown to transform into a smile. When you finally caved, he jokingly tickled your neck. “Ahh, there it is! Keep that smile on all day for me, okay?”
“Chadwiiiiick,” you whined, more from frustration with yourself than with his request.
“C’mon, Yaa, just loosen up. I promise it’ll be worth it once we get there.”
After some additional coaxing and an agreement to let you choose the breakfast spot the next morning, you agreed to let him handle all facets of night’s outing.
Your apprehension turned into childlike squirming in the front seat of his rental when the lights and sounds of SunTrust Park peeked over the Cobb County horizon. The smell of fresh barbecue from a restaurant inside The Battery teased your nose, connecting with your mouth to water in anticipation. The energy of all the baseball fans, young and old, seemed to bounce from their bodies to yours asChadwick tried his best to lead you through the crowd without being seen.
“Where are we going,” you asked once you passed what you assumed was the normal entrance for fan seating. If he was playing some type of prank, you wanted him to quit before the game started.
“I pulled some strings and got us VIP seating. There, I spoiled one surprise. Enjoy the rest of the evening with no questions.”
The stern look and finality to his request made you equal parts upset and turned on. Deciding to follow directions, you quickly emptied your brain of the six other questions you were carrying and followed his lead.
When your VIP seats came into view, your jaw dropped in shock. Chadwick had managed to secure seats that offered a near perfect view of the field. If you wanted to, you were sure you could call the players by name and get a response.
“You like it, Yaa,” Chadwick asked, a cheeky grin spread across his face while he gauged your reaction.
“I-I, I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything. Just enjoy yourself for me.”
His smile erased part of your anxiety. The whiskey neat he ordered for you did the rest of the job. By the top of the fifth, you were in full blown fan mode, abandoning your seat in favor of standing.
“Let’s go boys,” you hollered with your hands cupped to carry the sound. “Let’s get a fuckin’ run!”
Chadwick laughed at your obnoxious behavior before tugging on the hem of your jersey. “Sit down, Coach. They got it.”
“We need a win, dammit!” Sitting down, you took a sip of your whiskey and looked to Chadwick. “Am I doing too much?”
“No, you’re having a good time. That’s what you’re supposed to do.” His hand landed on your knee, gripping it lightly for reassurance. “Plus, the way these white people are looking at you know your shit is funny. So, keep going.”
Your hearty cackle rang out in the immediate area, drawing attention to the way your head was thrown back in laughter.
The sixth inning turned into more of the same, you standing to scream directions to the players and him reeling you back in. 
At the seventh inning stretch, he knew he needed to calm you down for his final surprise of the night.
“Alright, Yaa, have a seat. I got something to show you.”
“Wha-”
Your question was cut off by the announcer directing everyone’s attention to the scoreboard. Nothing could’ve prepared you for Chadwick’s face stretched across the large LED screen for everyone to see.
“Is it working,” he asked someone off camera. “Okay, cool. Uh, hey, Yaa. It’s probably weird seeing me up here in front of all these people.”
“Chad, what are you doing?” you hissed only to be ignored by your friend.
“We’ve been friends for a long time and, I’ve watched you grow into an amazing woman. You’re incredibly intelligent and caring. The way you are dedicated to helping everyone around you makes me want to be better. I’m not sure where I’m going with this so, I’ll try to wrap it up. In front of all these people and if you’ll have me, can we take this friendship to another level? I want you to be my lady.”
Your hands clamped over mouth in attempt to hold in your surprised scream.
“What do you say, Yaa,” the announcer asked.
To ratchet up the embarrassment, the ballpark camera panned to your exact location, highlighting the expectant faces of Chadwick and the people around you.
The longer you waited in shock, the more nervous energy you could feel radiating from him.
“If you not with it Yaa, we can just stop right here. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot,” He apologized, wringing his hands. “But, please, don’t zone out on me like that. Please.”
“Yes,” your answer was abrupt and almost unheard over the chatter around you.
“What? Did you j-”
“Yes, Chadwick. Hell yeah I’ll be your lady!”
Chadwick couldn’t open his arms fast enough to catch your body as you threw yourself into him. Had your wildest dream really come true? Were you really holding on to Chadwick in front of thousands of baseball fans as fireworks shot off in the background? You couldn’t have wrote a more fitting fairytale moment if you tried.
He buried his face in the crook off your neck, letting the vibrations of his relieved laughter rumble against your warm skin.
“Fuck, girl. You had me worried for a second.”
“I’m sorry, Chad. I just-are you sure? Me?”
Pulling back, he cupped your face with both hands to look into your eyes, “I’m sure. I will always be sure, Yaa.”
His forehead his dropped against yours as his hand traveled to grab the back of your head. Before you could refuse, his lips pressed against your set, gently at first to test the waters. When you didn’t refuse, he deepened the display of affection.
Time seemed to stop as your mouths danced in perfect sync, an expression of all the feelings both of you had concealed from each other. It took all your resolve to keep your tongue out of the mix, considering the headlines that would spawn from the Black Panther’s full blown makeout session during America’s past time.
“Baby,” he mumbled against your lips. “We gotta stop.”
“Huh? Why? What’s wrong?” You attempted to catch his bottom lip again, making him chuckle.
“Not here, Yaa.” Gripping your wrist to stop your hands from roaming, he kissed the inside of each one before getting close your ear. You could feel the scratch of his beard as whispered into your ear. “Save that energy for later, love. You gon’ need it.”
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pen-masta · 6 years
Text
Let’s Play Pretend Part 6
[Prologue]  1   2  3  4  5  6  7
When they back to the dorm the light drizzle and turned into a down pour and the two giggling young adults are soaking wet. They’ve been laughing the whole run home and after slamming the door shut behind them, they both collapse on the coach together. They’re both panting as they titter in the darkness of the room. After a few minutes he’d caught his breath and he turns the lamp on bringing a warm glow to the little living room. He smiles at Joy as she pants next to him, her curls sticking to her forehead and ears as they drip from the rain. Her cheeks are pink from running and her eyes sparkle with glee as she giggles and takes a deep breath.
“Wowie Cassie,” she giggles smiling at him biting her bottom lip. “What the heck was that?”
It takes him a second before he realizes she meant their kiss. Oh right...he did that.
He clears his throat and manages to hold his smile, “Oh you know,” he shrugs. “Just had to bring it home for them is all. Make sure it was really real.”
Joy shakes her head, her eyes still shining, “They had to see us kiss to fully believe we were a couple? You got some really weirdo friends C-bear.”
He chuckles, “No argument here Jojo.”
She giggles and relaxes into the cushions of the couch, “Man Cassie I think we have some unknown talent or something.”
“What do you mean?” He shivers as he shreds his drenched bomber’s jacket.
“I mean we were incredible actors today!” She cheers and throws her fists in the air, “We were on fire we were couple of the year!”
He chuckles, “Yeah I guess we were.” He agrees not wanting to let her know how she couldn’t be more wrong.
“I say we become Youtube famous and be set for life,” Joy beams at him and sits on her knees. “Take our acting to the internet!”
“I think becoming Youtube famous takes some time Jojo,” he smiles softly.
“Ok then let’s join an improv group!” She bounces on her knees.
“We live in two different states J-bird,” he chuckles, “you know I won’t join it if you aren’t there.”
She huffs jutting out her bottom lip, “Ok fine, then I say we just drop out of college and run away together to Hollywood and become huge stars!” Her smile grows again, “That should be faster than getting likes and we’ll be together. All we need is to show our stuff to an agent and we’re set!”
He smiles very amused by her crazy ideas of get rich quick with their acting talents--of which they have none.
“Well I don’t have a car to do all that driving and I don’t know any agents,” he scratches at his beard, “but I do have shortbread cookies and hot chocolate with little marshmallows.”
Joy giggles, “That is an equally as good plan Clyde!”
“Alright Bonnie,” he chuckles and pats her knee. “I’ll get the goods.”
He stands up cracking his back as he does so. He turns on the kettle to boil some water listening to Joy strip herself of her letterman, the wet heavy fabric makes a slosh sound as it hits the floor.
He turns when he hears the door creek open before slamming shut with a long bang. He makes eye contact with a drenched Nathan. His roommate stands in the doorway dripping water on the floor. Nathan’s short hair is hanging down in his face which is red from running in the rain...or at least that’s what Castel guesses he doesn’t want to address the several emotions that are running through Nathan’s puffy eyes.
Nathan clear his throat and shifts his weight awkwardly, “Hey.”
Castel’s adam’s apple bobs in his throat, “Hey dude.”
Nathan’s eyes dart from Castel to Joy to the ground, “Hey I uh...I want to um... apologize for everything today.” He sniffles and wipes his nose on his sleeve, “Autumn was mean and pushy and...” he takes a breath and smiles at them looking up at the two for the first time. “You two make a really cute couple and I’m happy you have each other.”
Castel glances at Joy who looks like she’s going to burst into tears.
“Aww Nator Gator,” Joy starts gently.
He shakes his head, “Please don’t.” He smiles weakly, “I don’t want pity or anything like that. I truly am happy for you two. And this is for the best. Autumn never liked me.” He takes another deep breath, “Listen I’m gonna go to bed. Night.” He mumbles
“Night,” Castel nods and watches as Nathan walks into his room and shuts the door.
He sighs and looks back at the kettle. Something flicks his ear and he yelps. Holding his ear he turns to see Joy standing next to him with her face all scrunched up and her hands on her hips.
“What was that for?” He demands
“You’re just standing there like a doofus,” Joy scolds, “Go talk to him.”
“Go what?” Castel laughs, “Joy he doesn’t want to talk.”
“He’s hurting Cas,” she pouts. “You guys are really close right?”
He nods, “Yeah I think of him like another brother.”
“And if Mikey or Zack were upset and brokenhearted wouldn’t you at least attempt to talk and make them feel better?”
He blinks and shakes his head, “Yeah but...Joy...I mean he’s...ugh!” He growls and glares at her. She did have a point.
She smiles and takes his cap off his head, “You go talk to him I’m gonna go grab a shower and then we’ll have hot chocolate.”
“Fine,” he sighs, “towels are on my desk.”
“Cause that’s the logical place for them,” she snickers and puts his cap on her head before she skips to his room.
He sighs again and saunters over to Nathan’s door. Light shines out under the door and the only sound he can hear is the squeaking of the bed springs as they scream out under Nathan’s shifting weight.
He knocks, “Hey Nate. Can I come in bro?”
A faint muffled voice comes through the door, “I guess.”
Castel opens the door to see his roommates normally clean and organized room is in shambles. Clothes are thrown all over the floor, books fall from their shelves, knickknacks on the desk have been cast to the floor, and among this mess Nathan lies on his stomach on his messy bed. He was only in her for a few minutes how could it possibly look this bad!
Castel blinks and walks around the maze of objects until he manages to reach the computer chair at the desk. Gingerly he takes a seat and looks at his friend who looks as though he just miraculously walked away from a horrible car accident.
His hair is disheveled and still dripping wet, his clothes are a wrinkled mess, his eyes are red and puffy, and his nose is buried in his folded arms. Castel clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck, gosh he’s never been good at this kind of stuff. He searches his brain for something to say, something to start the conversation, words of comfort, anything. His deepest desire is to tell Nathan how he had seen through Autumn’s act from the beginning...well not the the fact that she was into him and not Nathan, no that completely blindsided him. No, but he saw how Autumn treated Nathan like trash and he own toy to manipulate. He saw how mean and cruel she was, he wants to just cut into that stuck up priss. But he can’t seem to form any other words than:
“You alright?”
Nathan’s eyes dart to Castel’s face then back to the floor. Ok, that’s a no.
Castel sighs and leans his forearms against his knees.
“I’m really sorry about all of this Nate,” Castel says and chews his bottom lip. “I really had no idea about...all that.”
Nathan chuckles weakly, “I didn’t either...well maybe I did know.” He sniffles and looks back up at Castel, “Like deep down, you know? I mean after all whenever we were together some how we always ended up talking about you. I thought maybe it was cause she really cared about you and all...well she did just not in the way I thought.”
He sits up and runs his hand through his hair, causing tiny water droplets to fly as he cards his fingers through the wet mass.
“You’re better off without her,” Castel says.
Nathan shrugs, “Probably. I don’t know how I didn’t see that she liked you. She was always messing with your hair and your clothes. She always asked about you, and how you were.”
“Don’t think about all of that stuff man,” Castel’s eyebrows furrow. “That wasn’t you being blind it was her being manipulative. And they’re all the reasons to forget about her. She didn’t care about you, she just used you.”
“I know that dude!” Nathan snaps his eyes burning, “But knowing that doesn’t make this all feel ok!”
Castel blinks and sits back in the chair, he hadn’t thought about that. He was just angry that Autumn did this to his friend. He was angry that he had been right about Autumn.
Nathan takes a breath and sighs, “I’m sorry.”
“No I’m sorry,” Castel says and shakes his head. “I was just focusing on how wrong it was that she did this...I didn’t think about how you were feeling.”
Nathan smiles weakly, “Don’t worry about it bro.”
Castel sighs, “Look Nate I know this is hard no matter how you slice it.” He scratches at the hairs on his chin, “But I want you to know it’s not at all your fault. Autumn let it go too far, and for that I’m sorry...I’m also sorry I never said anything to you.”
Nathan cocks his head, “What do you mean?”
“I mean I kind of saw how awful Autumn was to you...I never said anything because I thought you were honestly happy. I didn’t wanna take that from you.”
Nathan sniffles and shrugs again, “Don’t worry about it dude, besides if you had said something I probably wouldn’t have believed you or listened.” He smiles a little.
Castel smiles kindly, “Are you gonna be alright? I mean you’re not gonna do anything crazy right?”
Nathan chuckles, “Nah I’ve already dated Autumn that was crazy enough.”
The two boys share in a laugh before comfortable silence falls between them.
“So you’re good?” Castel asks after a beat.
Nathan hesitates then nods, “Yeah I’m alright. I’m not great, but I’ll get over it.”
Castel nods, “So...we’re good?” He asks slowly.
Nathan smiles more, “Always bro.” He says and holds his fist out to Castel.
Castel smiles and fist bumps Nathan. He clears his throat, “Do you want to be alone?”
Nathan shrugs, “Yeah I think I’m just gonna go to sleep.”
Castel nods once more and stands up, “Alright, well Joy and I are having some hot chocolate I can make you a mug if you want some.”
Nathan smiles and shakes his head, “Thanks but that’s alright dude you have fun with your girl.”
Castel’s heart skips a beat when Nathan calls Joy your girl, but he manages to hide the momentary shock. There’s also a pang of guilt that rips his heart in half that the relationship that Nathan thinks is so rock steady is actually a lie. But Castel rationalize that it’s because of that fake relationship why they found out Autumn’s true feelings, so he feels like that balances it out. He smiles and stuffs his hands in his pockets and navigates his way out of the room.
“Alright well if you need anything, and I do mean anything,” Castel says and looks back at his friend. “I’m just down the hall.” He smiles, “Here for you bro.”
Nathan smiles gratefully, “Thanks Cas. That means a lot.”
==================
When the door shuts behind him he releases the breath that he didn’t even know he was holding. His heart really does ache for his friend and he really hopes this is a speedy recovery. Autumn isn’t worth spending more than a minute to be upset about.
With his hands in pockets he strolls back to the kitchen to check on the water as he listens to Joy’s caterwauling a slightly off key version of San Fransisco by The Mowgli’s. A smiles curls his lips remembering when the two of them saw the band in concert. He had bought the tickets as an early birthday gift for her. The concert was three towns over from theirs and he had decided to make a nice mini vacation out of it. They left a day before the concert and drove the four hours it took to reach the town and they stayed in a cheap motel near by.
It was a lot of fun, they dropped off their bags and went to a local diner he had read was the talk of the town. They went put-put golfing and took a walk in the park, and spent the night walking around the cute little town window shopping and buying little trinkets they didn’t really need. The concert the next night had been a blast but he really had the most fun just walking around the quaint little town with her. Watching her ‘ooo’ and ‘aahh’ at the antiques and fawn over the little kids running around in the summer heat. He also loved standing next to her in the stadium screaming the lyrics to the songs she knew and stumbling through the ones she didn’t know. He loved when she pulled him out of his seat to dance with her, he loved racing down to the pit and lifting her on his shoulder so she could flail her arms at the band. He still has the picture they took that night in his wallet.
He’d love to do something like that again with her. Maybe he should look and see if any of the bands she loves are on tour and see if any of them are within driving distance. The high pitched whistle pulls him from his thoughts and he pulls the kettle off of the heat.
He hears the bathroom door open as he pours the boiling water into the mugs of chocolate powder. He stirs the brown water swirling it until all the chunks disappear. Just as he reaches into the fridge to grab the spray whipped cream he hears the floor boards shift as she enters the room.
“All yours Cassierole.” She says.
He smiles and turns to say something to her but stops short at the sight of her. She stands on the other side of the table across from him, damp curls slowly drying, wearing a red and black checkered flannel shirt and a beaming smile as she drapes the wet towel on the back of the kitchen chair. What throws him for a loop is the shirt. The sleeves are clearly too long for her and slide down over her hands, the cut is not fit for a girl, and the shirt is obviously too big for her seeing that it’s practically a dress on her. It’s a guys flannel, no! It’s his flannel!
“This is clean right?” She asks and smooths the towel on the back of the chair.
“Huh?” He asks dumbly.
“The shirt,” she smiles. “I kind of forgot to pack my pjs and nothing I brought is going to be comfy to sleep in. I saw this on your desk and thought I could barrow it.” A slight panic races across her face, “That is ok right? I mean I can find something else if it’s not.”
He blinks and smiles, “Yeah of course it’s fine Joy. That’s actually like my last clean shirt so you picked wisely.”
Her face relaxes and she narrows her eyes at him and smiles, “You’re nasty boy! We are def doing laundry before we go home for the holiday.”
He chuckles and walks back to the mug to spray in the whipped cream, but he’s stopped again. As he walks to the other side of the kitchen he gets a better view at Joy and sees she’s wearing his shirt and...nothing else. She’s wearing his shirt, just his shirt! His heart begins to race as he forces himself to look back at the mugs and not at her bare legs.
Oh god, oh god, OH GOD! He can’t do this! Why would she not be wearing anything else!? Does she think this is part of their game!? Does she think this is funny!? That’s not fair! Holy crap, his hands are trembling. He can’t do this, he can’t do this. Ok, ok just stay calm. Be cool.
He manages to get at least one brain cell to focus on spraying the whipped cream into the mugs, and when he turns back to look at Joy she’s sitting down in the chair. His breath freezes in his chest as his eyes catch the sky blue thigh-high shorts that were hidden before, but now that she’s sitting they peak out from under the hem of the shirt.
Tension rushes out of his body like a deflated balloon. His heart rate comes down as he realizes she’s not wearing just his shirt. And soon the panic, nervousness, and adrenaline he felt a moment ago is quickly replaced with embarrassment and self-condemnation as he chastises himself.
Of course she’s wearing shorts! Why wouldn’t she be! They’re friends, there’s no reason for her to be wearing only his shirt here alone with him. He’s a pervert for even thinking like that about her. Ugh, he wants to throw up.
“You good Cassie?” She asks concerned
He nods, “Yeah I’m fine why?”
She smirks, “Well you’re just kind of standing there holding the hot chocolate with a strange look on your face.”
His cheek instantly light on fire and he coughs nervously, “Sorry just really tired I guess.”
He finds himself again and takes the seat next to Joy. He smiles as she sips her hot chocolate giving herself a whipped cream mustache which she seems to not give a single care about.
“You talk with him?” She asks worry dripping from her voice.
He nods and swirls his mug around on the table, “Yeah we talked. He’s good, we’re good.”
Her smile brightens, “Good.” She blinks and looks at the table, “Hey I thought you promised shortbread cookies Clyde.”
He blinks and shakes his head, “Oh yeah right I forgot.”
She giggles as he stands up, “You wouldn’t make a good robber Clyde you can’t even remember what you were supposed to be stealing.”
“Well they’re mine so I don’t know how I could steal them,” he smiles and crosses behind her to the cabinet.
“Either way cross robber off your list of possible jobs,” she teases.
“Yeah that and acting,” he chuckles as he opens the cabinet.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I can’t act worth a dime,” he says and takes the box into his hands. “I mean I couldn’t even convince Autumn we were together.”
“What?” Her voice is small and confused.
Stupid! He scolds himself for not monitoring his words more carefully, god that whole ‘Joy’s wearing just my shirt’ nonsense really numbed his brain.
He hesitates before turning to look at her. She’s facing him in the chair, he hands on the back of the chair, her eyes confused and her eyebrows scrunched up not understanding what he means.
“Fall didn’t believe us?” She asks slowly
He sighs and shuts the cabinet door, well the damage is done now so...
“Yeah,” he says and sits back at the table. “She didn’t really believe we were a couple.”
“Like...the whole time?”
He nods and rubs the back of his neck, “Yeah. She was really suspicious of us.”
“How do you know that?”
“She said so.”
“Where was I?” She asks
“It was when you went back in to use the bathroom, she called us out on it.”
Joy blinks and he can see she’s thinking back to the yogurt shop.
“So while I was inside she told you she didn’t believe us?”
“Yes,” he nods and fiddles with the box of cookies.
“Oh...” her eyes grow wide and her mouth falls open as she gasps. “Oh! Is that why you kissed me? To convince her?”
His cheeks are burning and he won’t look at her. “Yeah...kind of.”
“Oh...oh,” she says again but the second time there’s a shift in her tone. She sounds almost sad...is that disappointment he’s hearing? Did she think he kissed her for any other reason besides they’re little game? Why would she think that he’d just kiss her like that, they were still playing this game after all.
Unless...did she want him to kiss her? Could it be possible she’s been having the same feelings for him as he has about her? No, no he’s reading waaay to much into this.
“Is the hot chocolate good?” He asks to try and change the subject.
“Hm?” she blinks and looks up at him, “Oh yeah yeah it’s perfect.” She smiles.
He nods and looks at his watch, “Geez it’s getting really late.”
“Yeah I’m getting kind of sleepy,” she says and sips her drink.
He nods, “Well why don’t we--”
“Did it convince her?” She cuts him off and looks at him. “The kiss I mean.”
He quirks his brows before clearing his throat, “Oh yeah, yeah didn’t you see her face?” He chuckles.
She grins, “Well good then we accomplished our goal.”
“Yes we did,” he says and puts his hand on top of hers.
There’s a moment of silence before she yawns and he smiles.
“When are you leaving to go home?” He asks
“Monday is my flight back home, how about you?”
“I was gonna fly out like Wednesday or something, but I could get it to fly out Monday with you.” He says and his heart warms at the bright smile she gives him.
“I’d like that Cassie.”
He nods, “Well I’ll order the ticket tomorrow, but we don’t have any reason to get up early so we can sleep in late.”
“Good I need some uninterrupted sleep,” she says and yawns again.
He nods agreeing, “Well you can take my bed I’ll sleep on the couch.” He says downing the hot chocolate which he immediately regrets feeling the scorching liquid burn his throat.
She scrunches her eyebrows, “Uhnt-uh no way hosa, you didn’t get to sleep in your bed last night. I’ll take a turn on the couch.”
“But you slept on the couch last night,” he says as she finishes her drink.
She chews her bottom lip and fishes in the box of cookies pulling out a hand full.
“We’re at a stand still then Casanova.”
He chuckles, “It looks that way J-bird.” He takes the mugs to the sink and rinses them out.
She hums loudly as she munches on the cookies. “Well I’m supposed to be your girlfriend right?”
“Indeed,” he nods and turns to look at her.
“And we’re in college right?”
“Also true.”
An odd grin spreads on her face and he notes the light pink color her cheeks flush to. “So wouldn’t it be strange if one of us slept out on the couch instead of sharing your bed?”
He pauses for a moment before a grin of his own pulls at his lips, “I suppose so.”
Joy’s grin turns playful as she slowly stands up, “So in that case...” she glances at him before she takes off towards the bedroom with him at her heels.
The two chase each other into his bedroom giggling like little kids. When he enters the room he sees Joy sitting on her knees on his bed smiling back at him. He’s taken back at the image before him and he stops short as he watches Joy looking around his room. Why had he chased her in here? 
“Hey when did you get this?” Joy asks picking up a random dress shirt off the floor. “I’ve never seen you wear this before.”
He shrugs, “Eh Moman insisted I had to go to the spring fling last semester and she sent me that with a new vest and tie ordering me to go and have fun. Oh, and demanding I send pictures as evidence that I went.”
“Wow it’s a really nice color,” she smiles and smirks at him. “I thought I was your fashion go-to.”
He chuckles, “Well I can’t rely on only you for help with style. I mean you’re not the only woman in my life.”
She glances at his desk, “I can see that.” She says taking the Calculus III textbook off of his desk. “I see you leave all of your women out for the world to see.” She says in a mock serious tone.
He chuckles and plays along and dramatically winces, “I’d hope you’d never find out at least not like this.”
She breaks character for a moment and giggles. She turn the book so it hangs open like a calendar. She scrunches her face up and tilts her head. He chuckles and walks up behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle and resting his chin on her shoulder.
“I’m disappointed,” she huffs.
“Come now you know I’ve always been a numbers man. It’s my one weakness.” He hums, “Hey now that’s a sexy integral.” He says as they stare at the double integral problem he has been working on solving a few days ago.
“She looks nothing like me,” Joy scoffs and pouts. “Should I be jealous?” She asks innocently which makes him smile.
He shakes his head, “Not at all Jo-jo not to worry.” He buries his face into her neck, “You’re the only one I need.” He says and before he can stop himself he kisses her neck lightly.
They both freeze. Her body filled with tension in his grip and they both stand there as if time itself had ceased to exist.
Alright time out! What just happened!? Ok, this is too much. Weren’t they just supposed to be playing this game? You know, pretending? Somewhere along the way something shifted and now...now this doesn’t feel fake...this feels real. Oh god, how he wants this to be real! He could say something. Maybe she feels the same way. There was always the possibility that she did, after all this was all her idea. But of course there’s also the possibility that she doesn’t feel the same as him. God that would destroy their friendship! No he can’t risk it. So he’ll do what he’s done for years...swallow his feelings and change the subject.
And he does just that.
He clears his throat and takes a step back from Joy as she closes the textbook and opts to instead play with the little curl by her ear--a nervous tick she’s had since childhood.
“Anyways, um, I think I’m gonna go shower before bed.” He says and runs his hand through his hair, the burning in his ears a huge clue that he’s blushing. She doesn’t turn to face him fully. She turns just enough to glance back at him over her shoulder.
“Alright you do you Cassie,” she says quietly and he can see her cheeks are bright red to match his.
Before he can say anything about this little fact he quickly grabs some boxers and shorts off the floor along with a towel before he darts out of the room and into the bathroom. He leans against the door and tilts his head back letting out a heavy sigh. God, what’s wrong with him!? Why can’t he just forget about all this mush and see her for who she is...his best friend and nothing more.
He looks at the mirror and blinks to see the residue of the steam from Joy’s shower. But in the steam he can see little streaks where someone has drawn on the mirror. There’s a little cat, a flower, a heart, a goofy looking face, and the words San Fransisco written on the mirror. He laughs and shakes his head, he forgot Joy likes to do that after a shower. She’s always drawing constantly, she uses anything as a canvas--and much like him, drawing on the mirror after a steamy shower is one of her many adorable quirks.
He sighs and strips down to shower. His mind won’t stop analyzing everything that happened today. From the beginning of the day to just now he can’t help but feel there was some truth in their fake relationship. At least from his side there was. He huffs and scrubs the suds out of his hair as he replays their kiss in his head. Him snatching Joy into his arms and catching her soooo off guard. The passion he dumped into the kiss and how he secretly wished it had been a kiss for real and not one because of some silly game they were playing.
As he scrubs the dirt from his chest he replays it again and this time he sees something he didn’t before. Although he did catch her by surprise she did gather herself quite quickly. And though he at the time was so focused on pouring every ounce of his being into that single kiss he did register something else. At some point in the kiss Joy had puckered her lips. She had kissed him back!
He stops and stares at the wall as the water continues to rain down on him. He was so preoccupied with Autumn and Nathan and proving that Joy was the love of his life, he missed that very tiny but enormously important fact! She hadn’t pushed him away, she had pulled closer to him. She had pushed back and kissed him, not as hard as he did her but nonetheless. She had closed her eyes! And most importantly...she had enjoyed it! The little noise she made, the dazed look in her eyes, how giggly and bubbly she became after it, the tone she had when she found out why he had kissed her. Heck, even just now when he kissed her neck how she blushed and started playing with that little curl was proof that he made her nervous! They were all signs that she hadn’t been disgusted with it, but rather she enjoyed it...maybe even hoped it would have continued?
But then that means...there’s a chance she loves him back! Wait did he just say love? Yeah he did, he does, he is in love with Joy. He has been for a long time but he’s never actually said it. And there’s a good chance she loves him back!
The smile that sits on his face is so wide it could tear his face in half, as he trips out of the shower and proceeds to clumsily pulls on his boxers, shorts, and t-shirt. It’s a chance, an encouraging chance, and that’s all he needs. He just needed some kind of clue that she felt the same way.
He rips open the door and sprints into the bedroom ready to pour out his heart and confess his love for her hoping for the absolutely best outcome. But he’s stopped short when he sees she’s laying on the bed curled up under his blanket...sound asleep.
He deflates a little as sighs. Well that’s probably for the best, what had he planned to do anyways? Sweep her into his arms and dive in for another kiss? That could have ended badly. No, no he can’t just do is going off of a hunch. No he needs solid evidence.
An idea pops into his head.
He could do a little experiment. He was a science and numbers man after all, he could collect data all day tomorrow while their together. Anything no matter how big or how small, anything that could possibly be a sign that she loves him back he’ll keep track of. And if he reaches one hundred percent he’ll know for sure and then he can confess to her how he’s been drowning in these feelings since high school. Yeah, yeah that’s what he’ll do.
He yawns and looks at the bed. Honestly that bed is way too small for even him, there’s no way they both will fit. So he turns out the lights and opts to sleep in his chair seeing there was next to no room on the floor for him to sleep. But the chair is squeaky and uncomfortable, even with his feet propped up on the desk he can’t get into a primal position to sleep. There’s a twinge of pain in his lower back that shoots up into his neck and he knows there is no way he’ll be able to sleep here.
He sighs and walks back over to the bed, seeing that Joy is laying near the edge of the bed he could just slip in behind her. Careful not to wake her, he crawls from the foot of the bed up to slide under the blanket. He pressed his back into the wall and really he’ll have to sleep on his side, with her here there is no room for tossing and turning. But he’s not complaining, after all this is much more comfortable than the old office chair. She’s basically laying right against him and he’s really not sure what to do with his arms. He opts for sticking one under his head and resting the other on his hip. As soon as he stops moving Joy decides to take a turn and flips around in her sleep to face him.
She instinctual cuddles into him, craving the warmth his body gives off. He feels her one hand grip the front of his t-shirt and nuzzles her head into his chest before she sighs contently. He smiles and decides the hell with it and wraps his arm around her--which is way more comfortable than holding stiff at his side. The scent of strawberries is strong as it emanates off of her hair and he’s finding strawberry is becoming his new favorite smell. He tightens his grip around her waist holding her close to him and doesn’t miss the tiny little quirk of her lips forming a small sleepy content smile. As his eyes drift closed he has one final thought in his mind.
Five percent.
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Note
Can you pretty please continue the fic where Claire is pregnant when Jamie saves her from BJR in Fort Will. ?
Mod Note: This one, I feel, has been completed. So here - have a similar but different new one
The clink of the chains rattled even in her dreams, but for now they were very real. Claire Randall passed the warm, wet washcloth through her fingers as she passed it to one of the soldiers.
“Thank you, ma’am…” the redcoat mumbled as he washed the grime from one of the prisoners festering wounds, “though I don’t see the need.”
“Well, Officer,” she spat back, in no mood for his dismissive attitude, “if we don’t care for the wounds, they’ll never be fit for the next round of their punishments. Understand?”
Clearing up the detritus from the latest flogging, Claire placed her herbs back in her medicine bag and collected the various blood soaked rags. “Just do as you’re asked, Smith, or I’ll see to it you’re the next one on the whipping post.”
The officer paled, standing a little straighter with fear. He’d forgotten himself in the presence of Mistress Randall before - and he had felt the harsh consequences of her wrath from such an action. The Scottish prisoner beneath him hissed a little as he pressed too hard and Claire turned, her eyes harsh on the soldier as he tried to avoid her gaze.
Claire rolled her eyes and slammed the jail door on her way out, her bag tucked neatly under her arm. She tired of the darkness, of the dank walls and the lingering odor of misery. Despite the constant fear and the hardship, she had learned to survive. It had been hard to adjust with her husband by her side, but with Frank's death had come an increased isolation. His brother, Jack, was not of the same temperament and had brought about an inexplicable harshness. Claire found herself adapting; instead of distancing herself, she adopted his characteristics in order to survive.
Electing to take a hard line with the men under her command, Claire had stricken fear into their heads and hearts. Neither the soldiers nor the prisoners got in her way. Claire prefered it that way. Locked away in her room once more, she shook the aches of her day from her shoulders as she undressed and crawled onto her small cot. Safely hidden, she buried her face into her clean pillow and screamed as loud as she could. Frustration, fear, anger and hopelessness burned heavy in her heart. Claire would cry bloody murder, but not a soul within the prison walls would hear her. It was easier to harden oneself against a dark reality than to drown amidst it.
---
The new day dawned, the sound of the bugle outside pulling Claire from her restless slumber. Steps echoed through the spiral corridor that led to her chambers, causing her to sit up quickly and cover herself. There was only one who dared venture this far, and if he was looking for her it meant trouble.
Putting her best game face on, Claire pulled the blanket up from the bottom of the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders just in time for her door to be flung open.
“You’re needed down in the cells, Claire,” he barked, no room for introduction. “I need him fit as soon as possible, lest he forget the seriousness of his situation.”
“Alright, Jack,” Claire snapped, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she gave him a good hard glare. Though Captain Jack Randall was feared throughout the fort, she wouldn’t let him see her in such a state. She wasn’t a soldier under his command, nor a prisoner at his mercy. “You don’t have to march up here and snap orders at me like a skivvy.”
“Careful, Claire,” he snarled, his eyes serious and downcast as he put a solid grip on the lash that was resting angrily at his hip. "You would do well to remember you are still in my care. Do not think for a moment I would not punish you as I do the men."
Claire sneered, flipping her head to free her forehead of the odd errant curl that had fallen from its binding during sleep. "I'll be down," she answered, ignoring his threat, "when I am dressed." She might have assumed fearlessness, but she wasn't stupid. Baiting him further would cause no end to his taunting.
The door closed without Jack saying another word, leaving Claire to herself once more.
She was down in the bowels of the fort before long, trudging with her shoulders back and her chin jutting out in defiance as she splashed through the mud and filth of the dankest cells in the prison wing. It smelt putrid; the foul wash of death, disease, putrefaction and rotten flesh clinging to the walls with the rain water.
The heavy clink of the lock reverberated along the corridors for a few moments before Claire reached where she had been summoned. Jack appeared from the shadows of the doorway, a look of pleasure plastered across his face as he wiped away fresh blood from his hands. Claire swallowed her disgust hard, nodding her head once at him before walking into the darkened room. Claire hid her disgust as she nodded her head once at him and slid past him into the darkened room.
Facing away from her, huddled in a ball on the shit-stained floor lay a rather broad man. Claire watched as he shivered violently, a coldness seeping through him that no heat could cure. As she stepped closer, the cause revealed itself and for the first time, she felt herself overcome with a blind nausea at the sight. Jack had flayed the lad to the bone, leaving his back in a tattered mess of bleeding flesh. And the malicious bastard had met her grinning at the sight of his handiwork.
“You’re going to need to fetch me bandages, do you hear? Fresh ones, not those mouldy excuses for rags that you usually supply me with!” She whisper-yelled at the commanding soldier on duty, giving him a piercing gaze that made the soldier half cower under it.
Steadying herself, Claire allowed herself to take one long breath, her hand resting over her heart as she tried not to startle the lad. She wasn’t usually affected by the prisoners. Claire was used to Randall’s less than clean technique but this was only the second time she’d seen him employ such a brutal flogging upon another human.
Memories of the first time she’d seen such a mess of human flesh darkened her visions and she had to steady herself for the second time in as many minutes. The last prisoner to experience Randall’s dark side had hung himself only days later. Claire had been privy to all of it, the whole sordid affair and it made her sick to think of it happening all over again.
“Christ what has he done to you?” She whispered, reaching tentatively for his face with her fingertips. “Can you hear me lad?”
"Aye," he answered, his raw voice barely audible even in the silence of the dungeon, "I hear ye..."
“I need to tend to your wounds. That means you’re going to have to stay still lest I catch you. Do you understand?” She said as the guard quietly returned, placing a bucket of water and a pile of rags by the door before leaving once more. Claire hadn’t meant to sound abrupt, this was the one situation where she didn’t wish to come across as unfeeling. For the first time in a long while, Claire was trying to be empathetic.
Unfortunately she missed the mark, unpractised as she was. Instead her words sounded callous and cold and the prisoner at her feet stilled under her words. She sounded just like Randall and he had heard the barbarousness in her tone.
Swallowing back the regret in sounding so brutal, Claire tried to switch off the white noise of thought in her head. She had a duty of care to this man, and care for him she would. Wringing out the cloth in warm water, she began to wipe away some of the residual grime from his skin.
He twitched, though only slightly, as she caught the edge of his flayed skin.
“I’m sorry,” Claire whispered, just a breath on the light breeze running through the cell. Her voice wavered with apology, filled with the absent sensitivity of her earlier words.
“Dinna fash, matron,” he replied, breathing heavier with each word. His fingers splayed across the crumbling mud beneath him, his broken nails digging into the floor suppressing any risk of anguished cries. “J-just get it over wi’.”
Claire’s eyebrow raised in surprise at his tone, but continued on with her task. She had to admit that he was brave - that or terribly stupid.
A sudden loud bang broke her concentration and she dropped the now bloodstained cloth on the floor at her feet.
“Ifrinn…” her patient cursed as he tried to turn, the stemmed areas of bleeding now streaming crimson again.
“Don’t you dare!” She scolded, shifting to see what he was up to. “You’ll tear yourself open doing that. Stay still!”
He continued to ignore her, instead twisting his mangled spine in a desperate attempt to push himself up. “Ye shouldna --”
Before he could finish his sentence the door flung open, a whoosh of air flowing into the room. Claire stood up straight, guarding the man against any intruder. Lit torches entered the room, and holding them were three ragtag, bearded Scots who had somehow acquired redcoat uniforms.
“Jesus...H…” She cursed, seeing the sight before her, “GUARDS!” She cried out, her militant call startling the men huddled in the open doorway in front of her. Clearly they hadn’t expected anyone else to be in the cell with the lad.
The smaller of the men launched himself forwards, intent on silencing Claire as he raised his hands to clamp over her mouth. Claire though was prepared for any dirty tricks they might have otherwise relied upon to get her out of the way. Part of her understood their actions; they were just trying to save their friend after all - but it was too late for sympathy now. Instinct had kicked in, and there was no way she was letting him out of her sight in the state he was in...even if that meant condemning him to more of Randall’s unsavory proclivities.
Reaching under her skirts at an unnerving speed, Claire slid her small dagger from her garter and swiped it towards the rugged Scots with rage in her eyes. She meant business and she wasn’t equipped for failure. “Stay where you are! I know how to use this, don’t mistake my gender for incapability,” she growled, her heels solidly ground into the floor as she readied herself for a fight.
“GUARDS, where ARE you?” She screamed again, rage burning in her veins as she sliced the knife forwards through the air.
“Ye dinna want to do that, mistress,” her would-be assailant warned, his voice low and threatening as he held his hands in mid-air. “Naybody is--”
As if to fall in Claire’s favour a scrambling sound came from above, the soldiers finally responding to her loud calls. She quirked an eyebrow at the collective, a smirk covering her face as she stalked forwards, pushing the disguised Scots backwards. “If I were you,” she whispered, lowly, threat lacing her words, “I’d hightail it out of here before they catch you and you find yourselves at the end of a rope, *ken*?”
The men began muttering to themselves in gaelic and Claire could tell that it wasn’t complementary. She didn’t care, adrenalin coursing through every inch of her as she took one more measured step forwards. Turning quickly on their heels, all three decided to heed her advice and dashed off just before a rabble of half-dressed soldiers skidded into the cell to join her.
“That way!” She yelled, pointing towards the corridor that the Scots had just rushed off down, “Quickly, you buffoons!” She castigated, her cheeks heating with rage as the incompetent infantry took one startled look at Claire, stood still with the knife in her hands, and then hurtled off in the same direction.
Her patient, his thoughts obviously still on the foiled escape, was pushed up on his elbow with a face awash with incomprehensible pain. The shaking had increased tenfold as he tried to raise himself upright. “N-no…” he sighed, a low sob settling in his throat and an accompanying sorrow alight in his eyes as he looked between Claire and the now closed door.
Claire's heart lurched in her chest with the realization that her actions may have been an egregious mistake. She had essentially sentenced this man to death herself, ruining his one chance at freedom.
He was slouched in a ball on the floor at his feet, mumbling through a wavering voice in Gaelic. She wasn't sure if it was pain or hopelessness that caused the anguish in his tone, but she had been a cause of it.
They were silent for a moment until Claire made the move for him again.
"I'll finish cleaning you up." She said, ignoring the twisting of her belly as she dipped a clean rag into the now clean water. He flinched under her touch, moving away from her attempts at remedying his back.
No more words were spoken, instead he lay quietly as she wiped away the dirt and blood from his back.
She was nearly finished her job before they were interrupted again. Claire knew instantly who it was, his calm yet predatory steps echoing down the hall long before the clink of the lock sounded out his arrival.
“Have you finished with him now?” He shot at Claire, his tone irritated as he signalled to his guards to enter. “I need the lad, it seems he has some intruders to answer for.”
Claire balked. The prisoner didn’t move but she could tell he was readying himself for further assaults upon his person.
“I have, but you’re not to touch him again, Captain. Do you hear me?”
Jack’s face hardened at her insubordination and he looked ready to throttle her. “Do you question me, madam?” He asked, his tone measured as he held the soldiers back with his hands. One word from him and Claire would be forcibly removed and she’d have no say what happened to the young man behind her. But she wasn’t afraid of Jack or the consequences of her outspoken nature.
“Of course I do! You,” she said, pointing a bunch of red rags in his direction as a matador waved red before a bull, “asked me down here, Captain. You requested that I tend to the boy. So here I am. If you now mean to come down here and take yet more flesh from his bones, you can wait until he’s in more of a fit state to answer for the actions of others...because I damn sure don’t see him going anywhere right now, do you?”
The redcoat soldiers stood either side of Randall looked horrified. Frightened of both Mistress Claire and of Captain Randall, the exchange had them nervously shifting from foot to foot. Torn between being ready for their next instructions and choosing which of the strong pair would win this verbal battle, the soldiers kept their feet splayed and their knees bent.
“Maybe,” Randall began, “if his *friends* see him trussed up, bleeding out all over my nice, clean gibbet,” he paused for effect, leaving an icy chill to settle on the room, “they will think twice about trying to fool me.”
“That may be true, Captain,” Claire sneered, “but I’m not in the business of allowing accusations meant for others to fall upon innocent parties. You may wield a lot of influence over these barracks, Captain Randall, but so do I.”
Randall chuckled, a deep ominous sound that made Claire shudder uncomfortably. She held his gaze, the fear masked under her hard expression. Jack in turn held her in his gaze, waiting for her to flinch, or to show some manner of intimidation. When she refused to crack, his dark smile widened.
Tipping his hat as he bowed sardonically, Randall smirked up at Claire before stepping backwards. “As you wish, madam. I shall make doubly sure I increase my efforts to find the men truly to blame for the abrupt invasion of the fort. But don’t get too comfortable, Mr Fraser,” he aimed at the prisoner on the floor, “I will be back for you...in time.” He took one last look at Claire and turned, clicking at the soldiers who followed behind him like lap dogs. The door closed with a swinging thump that thunderously echoed around the room.
Waiting until silence enveloped them once more, Claire knelt beside her patient and reached out once more.
“Dinna,” he spoke, his teeth clenched as he shifted his whole body away from her once more. “Just leave me here to die. It’s one kindness ye could lend to me now.”
Taken aback by the defeat in his words, Claire held her hand steady not yet shying away from him. “I’m here to help you, Mr Fraser,” she said, using his name or at least what she knew of it, for the first time. “I won’t leave you to rot so be quiet and let me do what I’m here for.”
“I’m going to die here,” he repeated, “now ye’ve scared off my rescue party..” His voice fell short again, thick with emotion. “I get the feeling ye ken what fate awaits me should ye heal my scratches. So dinna bother. Have mercy on me and leave me to die from my wounds instead.”
“I’m not in the business of granting wishes, Mr Fraser.” She replied, clenching her jaw tight as she finished covering his back in damp, clean bandages.
When the final piece of bandage was placed, Claire stood and brushed the dirt off her skirts before collecting the rest of her belongings to leave. She had this gnawing sensation in her gut, one she hadn’t had for a good while and she didn’t like it one bit.
Looking to his shadowed figure, she saw a broken man whose hope of escape had been destroyed by her actions. This young man who had fallen ill of Jack Randall… She sighed heavily. Balancing her supplies in her arms, she made two knocks to the door, prompting the soldiers to allow her to leave. With a final glance, she whispered a parting word she knew he’d likely not hear.
“I’m sorry, Mr Fraser.”
…TBC
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promisedangel · 7 years
Text
Predatorshift- Chapter 13
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Imma just slip this reminder here. You all really should read it, else you’re all in for a surprise in December. But, for now, here’s the next chapter.
Chapter 13- Memory
The walk to the camera systems was, for the rest of the way, full of awkward silence. Yet, Gaster and Asgore knew not to let their guard down for a second. Not unless they desired the risk of harm from their unstable king. After a few twists and turns, the three ended up at an average-sized door. Asgore quickly jogged around Sans and Gaster in order to reach the door first. Sans flashed a quick frown but did nothing other than wait. Asgore fished a set of keys out of his coat pocket before he fumbled with them. Each key on the set was similar to each other, making it difficult to decipher which one of them was the proper key for this door. After only a few tries in the lock, Asgore could hear a few taps of impatience come from Sans’s boots. He quickly located the proper key and unlocked the door.
The room was just as the two had left it; screens set to various cameras in Hotland. It was then that Gaster and Asgore noticed that a number of the camera were nothing but a display of static and the message, ‘No Signal’ in a corner of each screen. Sans approached the machine and began to change the camera displays to each section of the underground. Snowdin. Waterfall. Hotland. The Core. New Home. No discernable trace of Chara, Asriel, or Frisk; much to Asgore’s subtle relief. Sans frowned, “Lot of cameras broken in Hotland...” Gaster gave a heavy sigh as he stepped next to his king, “Yes. Unfortunately, some of the magma plumes and feral monsters continuously break a number of cameras. You will find at least a few broken cameras in each region of the underground.” Sans grinned impishly and turned his gaze toward Gaster beside him, “Pretty convenient… though… I think I broke a few of them myself. Can’t really help myself when I see my next meal.” Gaster seemed to ignore Sans’s comment, instead he spoke evenly and kept his gaze locked on the screens, “The cameras should still have a good view of the underground, despite the blind spots.” “And if the humans are hiding in the blind spots?...” Gaster spoke dryly, “Even if they were, they’d likely move into vision fairly quickly. They aren’t the most observant creatures.” Sans chuckled darkly at Gaster’s comment, “Yeah. Even dumb monsters can catch full-grown humans.”
Sans turned away from the screens with a quick frown and a disappointed sigh, “No sight of the humans.” Sans returned to his impish grin, “Guess I’ll have to do this the old fashion way.” Gaster turned and gave a light bow to his king, “I apologize this was a waste of time for you.” Sans shrugged, “Eh, I know where the two humans aren’t, so it wasn’t a complete waste of time.” Gaster stood straight with a calm half-smile, “Well, I wish you luck in your hunt, my king. Still, I hope you consider my proposition-“ Sans turned back towards Gaster. He was quick to cut Gaster off with a strict, yet even tone, “I remember your proposition. Don’t test me.” Gaster jumped slightly at Sans’s words before his posture relaxed and curled inward slightly. He avoided Sans’s gaze, “My apologies, sir.” Sans relax and shrugged for a moment, “I’ll forgive ya this time. ‘Sides…” Sans’s left eye began to glow. He used it to glare at Gaster, accompanied by a deep frown, “You remember what happens when you try my patience.” Gaster instinctually touched the scar under his left eye. The memory echoed clearly in his mind. His tone became more submissive and somber, “Yes… sir.” Sans’s eyes returned to normal, his frown normalized. Sans spoke more evenly and shrugged once more, “Eh, still not there yet. Although…” Sans winked at Gaster, “If you’ve been lying about hiding a human, then I’d have to have you for dessert.”
Sans disappeared in an instant from the lab. Gaster’s eyes were left wide-eyed and his teeth gritted. He shook slightly, “No… he couldn’t know… if he did… I would be…“ Asgore approached Gaster with a quiet voice, “I… have a confession, sir.” Gaster furrowed his brow at his assistant, “Yes?” Asgore fiddled with his hands slightly, “Th-the recording system is not broken… I… I lied. I thought it would give Chara some time…” Gaster smirked and gave a small chuckle, “I’m surprised at you. Lying to the king to his face. Well done.”
Asgore hesitated to speak for a moment. He knew what came next would be difficult for him. He curled his hands into a fist and furrowed his brows downwards in anger. He then spoke out in anger, “How could you put Chara and Asriel in danger like that?! You just offered both of their lives to him!” Gaster was at first in shock at his assistant’s audacity to yell at him. This quickly faded to his own anger and annoyance. Gaster mirrored his assistant’s furrowed brows and growled, “I said what I had to say in the chance of getting one soul! If Chara had done their job properly, we would not have to be in this situation to begin with!” Asgore, while he would normally cower from Gaster at this point, felt the surge of determination he needed to speak his voice to his boss. Despite the rattles in his voice, he pulled through, “Y-you said Frisk killed Papyrus! I know by looking at that child there is a certainty they did not harm him!” Gaster’s tone evened out, despite its darkened state, “Looks can be deceiving. How else could he be dust? Answer that!”
Asgore huffed and calmed his tone, he even loosened his fists from the death-grip tightness he had tightened them to. Asgore closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath to calm himself. He opened his eyes and began to speak in a worried, nearly pleading tone, “Sir… Papyrus may be kind… but please. Think. Is there truly a way a child could kill a boss monster? Not to mention one that is hundreds­­ of–if not a few thousand– years old!” Gaster glared heavily. His hands started to shake in his bubbling rage, “You don’t know what you are insinuating.” “You said that you found a letter. What made you find that letter?” Gaster’s fists tightened, yet they still shook, “How dare you-“ Asgore quickly cut him off, firmness seeped into his voice, “What. Made. You. Find. It?” Gaster gritted his teeth. He was quiet for a moment. The only thing Asgore could hear was the sound of Gaster’s gritting teeth and his still shaking fists. He spoke, his tone tense, “Carved in the stone in front of his dust.” Asgore’s tone became much calmer, “Was the message facing him?” “…Yes.” “Then, perhaps it was carved-“
Before Asgore’s eyes, something appeared behind Gaster. A large, bestial skull appeared behind Gaster. Its eyes were white at first, but its jaw opened, and the eyes seemed to slowly fade to black. Within the mouth, vast amounts of light pooled. Energy. Energy that was pointed towards Asgore. His eyes widened in fear at the large and imposing head. He quivered, his facial expression quickly dropped to despair and fright. Gaster, meanwhile, had naught but a simple frown and glowing eyes. He stared down his assistant. His tones were dark and soft, yet it held a bubbling rage, “I will not allow you to insult his memory. I will not let anyone insult him in that manner. He may have been naïve, but he still was a better monster than any of us.” Asgore dropped to his knees and tears began to flow into his beard, “Please… I… I just-“ Gaster smirked and spoke darkly, “J U S T  W H A T?” Asgore turned his gaze away from Gaster. He curled in on himself slightly before he spoke quietly, “N-nothing… sir…” The large skull behind Gaster seemed to disappear slowly. The energy it had built had dispersed peacefully. Gaster’s eyes became calm and he wore a victorious smirk as he spoke, “That’s what I thought.” Asgore said nothing. He did nothing but weep quietly. Gaster ignored his assistant and began to examine the various screens. He focused them on Hotland. He saw that an entire section of the top level of Hotland had been destroyed. Again. He gave a resigned sigh, “She’s active again…”
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Frisk and Asriel walked slowly through a middle layer of Hotland. The sweltering heat was enough to cause Frisk to occasionally fluff their sweater. They saw that Asriel had begun to pant and use his rainbow bandana as a fan occasionally. His fur was murder in this area. Asriel noticed Frisk had noticed his struggle. He struggled to smile and lowered his arm with his bandana in hand. He spoke in nervous tones, “I-it’s okay. Really! I can handle this a lot better than the lower areas. I look a lot hotter than I am… r-really…” Frisk frowned, worry crept onto their face, “Okay…” Asriel dug into his coat pocket and dug out the can of the substitute, “If I get really tired… I’ll just eat a little. Okay?” “Okay.” Asriel smiled before he put the substitute back into his coat. Meanwhile, Frisk wiped the sweat from their brow. Frisk spoke after a moment, “So… where do we go from here?” Asriel scratched his chin, “Um… It’s been a while since I’ve been here… but… there should be another elevator on this level of Hotland.” Asriel pointed upwards, “We need to go to the top, then… we gotta, um… sneak into King Sans’s castle…” Frisk shivered slightly at the thought. Despite the sweltering heat, the name brought with it a cold chill. Only for a moment. Frisk hugged themselves slightly and spoke quietly, “We… can think about that…. later…” Asriel turned his gaze forward, “Yeah… I don’t wanna think about it either…”
The two were silent for a time, taking a few turns and choosing a direction from a fork in the path here and there. Asriel felt more and more nervous as the two continued onwards. He began to fiddle with his hands and look around nervously. After about four forks, the area teemed with mechanics. Schematics were scattered on the metal-plated floor. Tools were near toolboxes, and there was the distant sound of metalwork ahead of them. Asriel sighed in defeat as he looked around, “Frisk… this doesn’t look familiar at all…” Frisk’s eyes widen and stopped dead in their tracks, “We’re… lost?” Asriel stopped and turned back to Frisk. He whined, “Yeah…” Frisk looked back towards the path they had been walking, “Maybe… maybe we can go back and take another turn?”
The metalwork sounds stopped suddenly. A masculine voice hissed from the path ahead. The voice sounded confused, “Huh? Isssomeone there?!” Asriel let out a gasp and Frisk was suddenly ready to run at a moment’s notice. They heard footsteps echo on the metal up ahead. Quick footsteps. Frisk grabbed Asriel’s arm and ran without another word. Asriel yelped at the sudden yank but accepted the tug. As their footsteps clanged on the metal below them,  the two could hear the monster behind them call out, “Wait! Come back!” Frisk refused to look back, yet Asriel did. He saw the new monster quickly gain on them in a bolt of speed. Asriel yelped before the monster caught up. In response, Asriel tried to run as fast–if not faster–than Frisk. He crashed into Frisk, tripping them over. With a small cry from each of them, the pair tumbled to the ground, just outside the metal-plated area. The two groaned and heard a voice speak to them in small bits of worry, “Whoa! You two alright? That wass quite a tumble for you kids!” Asriel and Frisk groaned. Asriel responded with his eyes closed, “We’re okay…”
Frisk and Asriel looked up at the monster. The monster had a lithe figure–serpentine in nature–with long legs and arms that held no claws or tail. The figure stood tall over Asriel and Frisk, looking down on them with a long, curled-down neck. The monster’s scales were a seemingly random pattern of red, yellow, and black. All of them shined slightly in the magma light around them despite some scales being covered with various mechanical fluid and powder. The monster’s eyes were always opened, never blinking, staring down with a piercing yellow behind some simple goggles.
Frisk shook and attempted to back away from the serpentine monster. The monster crooked their neck and raised their head slightly. They looked more worried of Frisk’s fear, “Hey… you okay, kid?” The monster kneeled down and spoke gently, “I can be a bit sscary, but I don’t mean any harm. I promissse.” Frisk stood and readied themselves to move, but Asriel spoke instead, “You really mean it?” Frisk relaxed slightly, disarmed by the situation. The monster nodded and smiled lightly, “Yesss, I am Sssserrrol. What are your namess?” Asriel smiled, “I’m Asriel! And this is Frisk!” Serol took a long look at Frisk. The longer Serol’s eyes stayed locked onto Frisk, the more Frisk scooted away. Serol blinked and lowered his head in order to adjust his goggles over his eyes, “I sssee why you are nervousss of me! I thought all the human-looking monssstersss were eaten decadesss ago!” Frisk blinked in shock for a moment. Bewilderment and disbelief encompassed their face. They could not speak due to the shock. Asriel stepped in and spoke nervously, “Y-yeah! F-Frisk has to be reaaally careful around other monsters!” Serol sniffed for a moment. Frisk became tense once more, and Asriel did as well. Serol curled their mouth and curled their neck towards the chest. They wiped the smell away in disgust, “Urg. How ssomeone could missstake you for a human iss a myssstery. You reek of dussst.”
Serol reached for his goggles and seemed to rub his finger downwards against the left side of the goggles. The goggles seemed to focus outwards as he continued the motion. Serol hissed in disgust and shock, “Frisssk! You are covered in dusst!” Frisk looked down at themselves. They examined the remainder of the dust that Chara had coated them with earlier that day. Less than half of it remained. They truly wondered how much of their scent was diluted at this point. Frisk nodded and thought quickly of a response. They hesitated, “I… I fell in a pile of dust earlier… I just… want to go home and clean off…” Serol perked their head up, “Where iss your home? New Home?” Asriel perked up. They suddenly realized what Frisk was doing. Frisk nodded calmly at Serol, not saying a word. Serol sighed, “Well… I ssupposse I could guide you…. to the nearest elevator.”
Serol’s head lowered and the serpentine monster began to appear dejected. Asriel frowned and spoke up, “What’s wrong?” Serol whined, “I thought… ssomeone had come to… try my puzzle…” Asriel paused, confused. He answered kindly, yet confused, “…puzzle?” Serole perked his head up slightly, “I… I like to make puzzlesss. Like our misssing Prince Papyrusss!” Frisk perked up at the name. They spoke with shock in their voice, unable to resist blurting out the question, “You know Papyrus?!” Serol looked genuinely confused, “Everyone knowsss who Prince Papyruss wasss. Maybe… you two are too young to remember him…” Asriel raised a brow at Frisk, but Frisk focused on Serol, “Could you tell us about him?” Serol smiled. His eyes seemed to glaze over in nostalgia, “He… he was the kindesst monsster anyone knew. A little naïve, but sstill kind. He loved puzzles and he tried to keep everyone’ssspirits up when the barrier went up.” Serol’s head lowered and he frowned, “And then… he disappeared overnight. King Ssanss locked himself in his cassstle for a while. Refusssed to talk about it, and attacked thosse that tried.” Serol hissed more than usual, anger seeped into his voice, “Ssssome sssay Sssanss killed Papyrusss! Perpossserousss! He may be a jerk and a horrible king, but he loved hisss bother more than anyone!” Frisk frowned and became lost in through. Their mind focused on those two days with Papyrus. The tranquility. The kindness. Yet, their mind had no choice but to fall on Papyrus’s attack as well. They spoke quietly with melancholy, “Papyrus…” Serol nodded, mirroring Frisk’s melancholy, “He issstill missssed.”
There was an awkward silence for a few moments. Serol bowed his head for an impromptu mournful moment of silence. Asriel was nervous to butt in, but did so, “Well... golly… we… really need to get going soon-“ Serol lowered his head to be face to face with Asriel. His eyes lit up and pleadings filled his voice. His hiss could barely be heard as he spoke quickly, “Please don’t leave yet!” Asriel jumped back, nearly knocked off balance at the sudden serpent face in his face. Frisk caught Asriel just in time and Asriel regained his balance quickly. Serol continued his pleading as Asriel recovered, “I… I have done little elssse other than thiss puzzle… it helpssss passss the time. Pleassse, if you two try it, I will guide you to the nearessst elevator! Jusst onccce, pleassse!?” Frisk and Asrie quickly turned away from Serol. They shared a gaze. Both held worry, but only a little. Asriel spoke quietly, “Well… he is offering to take us to the elevator…” Frisk murmured, “Yeah… I think we can trust him for a little bit. I think he’s kinda lonely…” Asriel nodded in agreement. The two turned back towards Serol with smiles. Asriel spoke, “Okay, mister Serol! We’ll do your puzzle!”
Serol’s eyes lit up with joy. He seemed to let out a squee that hissed slightly. He began to jump up and down quickly. After a few jumps, he suddenly stopped. He landed slightly off balance. He flailed his arms about to try and find his balance once more. Once he was centered, he let out a small chuckle, “Hehe. Sssorry, I wassso excited that you sssaid yess!” Serol turned his back to the two, but turned his head back towards Frisk and Asriel, “Come! Thisss way! Thissshould not take long!” Before Asriel and Frisk began to walk, they noticed something as Serol turned his back to them. There was a stump on his behind, where a tail would be. The tail appeared to have been amputated, now long since healed. Asriel put a hand to his mouth to cover a gasp. Frisk’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of the stumped tail. Serol looked down at the stump and frowned, “A… a monsster tried to eat me… There’ss a reasson I’m… all alone…” Serol shook that memory away and smiled, “But, I’m fine now! Come on! You two have a puzzle to try sso you can go home!”
9 notes · View notes
stormears · 7 years
Text
Snippet of a Fic
Super-abridged context: after escaping a disaster, she goes looking for other refugees, and she searches for years. 
Pages 17 - 21 on a 48-page Word doc and the first chapter is MAYBE half done. 
AU, drama, horror, monsters, adventure, fantasy, longass chapters, weird crackship, me learning to write regularly again because doing so makes me feel great. 
-
“Excuse me, ma’am.”
“Huh? What. Oh, you want the ham package? It’s four for the pound.”
“No, ma’am. Just a question. I’m Sakura.”
“Do you even have money? How old are you?”
“I don’t want any of the meat packages. I just want to know about the newspaper you have in this town.”
“Uh, Matima’s newspaper? Then talk to Matima, he does it right out of his house on Gorin Road.”
“I went there, he’s not home right now. I’m just asking around, okay? I’m not trying to solicit you or get my nose in your business. I just need…need answers.”
“O…Okay?”
“So can you tell me about his paper?”
“Uh, it runs ads for the market, mostly. In summer he writes the schedule for the weekend plays, so that’s in there too.”
“Did it have the news about Konoha in it?”
“Konoha?”
“It’s down south from here, the town with the deer farm? Mayor Danzo?”
“Oh, that’s the town that got, got burned up a few weeks back.”
“Yeah. Did Matima write about that in the paper? Or about Iwa, what happened there.”
“Yeah, I mean…some. Some of that stuff’s too awful to write about. All the evil wraiths that came at those people. In daylight. I can’t imagine.”
“And Iwa?”
“Iwa folks just packed up and left, I think. They took their packs and all the lanterns and went north. That was in the last paper.”
“They did? They wanted to?”
“Yeah, they had some big vote and everyone decided living a couple days-a-ways from Konoha wasn’t a good thing.”
“That’s…I’ve never heard of that.”
“I’ve never heard of wraiths in daylight, either, but it just happened. We’re doing the same thing. The day after next, I’m packing up all this and going north with everyone else.”
“So, are lots of towns doing that?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know much about any other place but for Iwa and Jytown. Nobody but Matima travels, really.”
“But, uh, Matima definitely wrote about Konoha.”
“Yeah, I just said.”
“So how did he hear about it in the first place?”
“I mean, everyone heard. They had refugees running all over the province.”
“They, they had refugees? Really?”
“Yeah, some of them even tried to go right down the road to Kumo, but I guess they didn’t know the same thing had already happened to Kumo. Like, just an hour before it got to them! Insane. It’s insane. Like hell coming up aboveground. Those things—”
“But they had refugees, people got out?”
“Yeah, some. I don’t know how many outta of the whole town, like percentage-wise. And, you know. Lotta people died. Their militia gave up and left them. That was definitely in the paper. ‘Cause one of ‘em told that to Matima as they came through.”
“Who came through? D-Did you see them?”
“Um, I think one family did? I don’t know exactly who was interviewed.”
“What family? Please! What did they look like?”
“Will you get out of my FACE? Mother of moons, you child. Just don’t tell me you’re from Jytown and you want to steal Matima’s business or something. I’ll report you to the militia. And he’s damn tired of Jytown idiots stealing headlines when he does good, honest reporting for the town.”
“I’m not a reporter. I lived in Konoha.”
“What?”
“I lived there. I got out. I never saw anyone else get out. I’m trying to find somebody else from there. Anybody. I need to know who in my town made it here and if any of my family and friends are okay!”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am. That’s where I live. I walked for a week to get here. Please, just tell me what that family looked like, or, or where Matima is. I’ll leave you alone.”
“Yes, you fucking will. Take your hand off my table. Off my stand. Get away from me.”
“What?”
“If you’re not lying to me, you will not touch any of my things again. You had better get right out of here. Quick. Now.”
“What? What is wrong with you?”
“If you’re from there, you’ve got their taint on you. Something ungodly. Something awful had to be happening in that town for the wraiths to come down on you like wolves to meat. In the daylight. Six, seven of them! Eating people alive. And if you just brought this evil cloud straight into my butchery stand—”
“That’s not what happened at all! We do everything fine. We light the lanterns, we’re never on the street when a dark time comes. Never! Konoha did everything right.”
“I believe in the tragedy of that village more than I do your word, little girl.”
“Will you—j-just—tell me about that family you saw. I’ll leave. I swear.”
“It was some man with a little black beard and his daughter, I guess. Guy had pointy hair tied up in a tail and a deerskin vest. I’m surprised he wasn’t trying to sell his daughter to a brothel, the way the slut dressed.”
“Whh—? What was she dressed like?”
“She had a little, little skirt on like some of the young girls do these days, like she’s inviting every man around to run up and shove his cock up in her. She came out of that pit-of-sin town so maybe I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“Was she blonde?”
“Yeah, she was. Your age as well.”
“Where did they go? What town?”
“Like I know! Guren said they just bought some damn food and left and good riddance! Pestilence!”
“Thank you. Thank you, ma’am.”
“I hope you’re done. Get away from me. Plague.”
“Have a good evening, bitch. Bye.”
-
At the other end of town was Matima, out of his head from drink or drug. He invited Sakura in to sit on his couch, but he didn’t have a couch. But he understood her when she said where she was from, remembered and pronounced her name through his inebriation, and said that he learned of beasts coming from Kumo because a young man named Rock Lee had told him this. And Rock Lee went north. Sakura thanked him and thanked him, unaware that he heard her first exclamation and had fainted by her third.
Sakura walked speedily to Jytown, and asked the same questions to the two men who made the local newspaper. They did not know of any blonde refugee girl and her bearded “father”. But they knew refugees were out there. Konoha ones, and a few Kumo, too. The younger of the two gave her a free lantern, a skin of cold water and yesterday’s bread, and refilled her own bottle besides. They apologized for her treatment in the secluded village of Emmha.
Sakura walked halfway to Moroi, and slept in a maple tree. She hid in a tree once during the day, and a second time when she slept for the night.
(Mom, I’m getting really good at tree climbing, it’s like I’m a little kid again. And the things are so freaking stupid they never even look up. I read that in books a couple times. I’d rather be up in a tree than on the ground with a freaking lantern.)
She entered Jaiho and found a spindly young man vainly hauling a cart of furs. He had no strength and he had a hundred potholes and furrows in the road to tread through. Sakura did it for him. The man thanked her with lunch, and the man’s wife thanked her with a story of a Konoha refugee, named Hotaro, who passed in his sleep from illness five days ago. She didn’t recognize the name. The wife’s friends had talked of seeing Konoha refugees, a blonde girl or young woman, and an older man, perhaps her father. She left their home with her hands and shoulders shaking.
Sakura hitched a ride on the cart the man’s cousin owned, and his bay horses trotted her into Gellen Village, where they were hanging a man today. Sakura stayed to watch and wished she hadn’t. She dreamed of it the next night and the night after that, she dreamed her parents ignored her for days, boys at school threw dirt at her and called her a virgin-slut, Lee hated her, and that she hung them all out of spite. She woke up and pretended to talk to Lee. And Hinata. And then Chouji. Then she pretended that a man from the medicine school asked her to join their ranks and she politely accepted and there were articles about her in the newspaper, because she could perform brain surgeries faster and better than the great Tsunade. She adjusted her voice for each character in the skit. By the time she slept, and then woke, her jaw was sore from all the talking to no one.
The slow and heavy realization came that Ino and Mr. Nara’s trail was not as linear as she’d hoped. They seemed to have showed up in some towns but not others. Not Weissa, but in Moroi, four hours away by a horse’s gallop. And not Gellen, the next-nearest place to jump to, six hours west from that, though a nice mailman said that Lee’s description sounded familiar. Who knows if anyone she knew had ghosted through Iwa like she had. And searching for them was exhausting. Imagining where Ino’s real father was, or Shikaku’s real son, was exhausting.
She didn’t cry as much, but she did curl herself up tightly and hold hersel at night, and talk quietly. Her own hands were warm. When she was feeling nice she pretended she was eight and held Ino’s hand in the classroom and that she would soon go to lunch and then have math time, and then go home to her mother. And sleep in her real bed. Not a haystack or a barn or a gods-damned tree. Today, it was a barn. But the grain sack was hardly a pillow.
In a fit of spite, Sakura asked for work in this new town, Moroi (no sign of any refugees) so she could afford to sleep on a real, soft mattress. The grocer had her carry bags into people’s carts and take heavy loads from one end of the back storehouse to the other. She sweated and she sighed, but later she bathed and she ate and she slept in a barn with a real mattress and pillow. And cows.
She found a book in a trash bin once, about penguins on the southernmost continent, and read it in two nights. And lots of nights after. She hadn’t touched a book in…weeks. And now she was exceptionally knowledgeable about penguins.
Sakura left Moroi. The grocer owner thanked her and she embraced him before leaving. “If you need a job again, you come back here, kid! Bright crossing! Good luck, my girl!”
She paid for a ride to Saffur in a cheap two-horse carriage, yellow and ugly but allegedly designed for passenger transport. She’d never heard of that town before, couldn’t find it on the map she’d purchased.
The carriage driver lied. There was no town called Saffur.
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(I want my blog to have more writing on it, and at least a LITTLE less “stuff that makes me inspired to write and full of ideas but I so rarely do anything about it.” Time to take more initiative, BITCH)
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