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#'so um my birthday was like a week ago and nobody here noticed which i mean i totally understand bc you have no real reason to care abt it'
rjwrites22 · 3 years
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So I'm basically being forced to play DND with my younger siblings over the summer. Thank god for part of my sanity, my little brother is the DM this time, not me. I wonder if my mother realizes that the fastest and most effective way to turn someone off something, even something they really enjoy, is to fucking force them to do it?!
First session is today and I'm already dreading it, partly because it's at one pm and I'm rarely up before like 3. Partly because I only found out about the thing yesterday evening and I wanted the kid to record a few goddamn details of his campaign before starting even though Mother argued that he can't because his handwriting is awful. (In her defense, it is, but that's completely beside the point.) Gonna have to do a disorganized campaign with a 10-year-old for a DM, and I can't fucking say anything because I don't want to DM myself. Maybe it'll be fun?
Also I'm already in a bad mood because for some damn reason I got to thinking about band and reminded myself that nobody in my section's groupchat said happy birthday to me last week which made me VERY sad but I can't fucking tell them because I just can't, that's not something I do. I'm terrified I'd come across as either passive aggressive or just looking for attention, especially seeing as my birthday was on Sunday and it's fucking Friday now. And it's summer so there's no reason for them to think about it in the first place, plus only like three of them are friends with me on Facebook, etc etc I'm an idiot.
There's also some other things upsetting me right now, I'm just not in the best mood overall and it's not anything I could ever talk to anyone but myself about. Especially because the biggest thing is fucking ridiculous for me to be upset over.
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rinkrats · 3 years
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🥺 that mike lange story. But also those tags #sid loooves christmas #he loves giving presents #looks good in red #piles on the pounds fast #post hockey career as santa 😂😂👌🏽👌🏽
he loves his mementos and presents and is COMMITTED to them. scrapbooking. matching jackets. little pills with hidden motivational messages~*~ his love language is gifts and neck smooches and stalking geno. relevant right now are some anecdotes i sent a friend earlier this year for dorky sid gifts fic fodder:
1. Crosby's constant thoughtfulness would be impressive from anyone, much less someone of his stature.
"Sid always texts me happy birthday, he's always asking me like, how's Russia?" Evgeni Malkin said. "We talk and message all summer. He asks me how my skates are. He knows, like, everything. He follows my Instagram, I think (laughs)."
In addition to having a handle on those little details, Crosby is constantly providing those around him with memories and mementos. If the team is on the road and goes, say, sightseeing or to a sporting event and takes a group photo, Crosby will later send a framed copy to everyone.
When Ron Hextall and Brian Burke watched their first Penguins game in person, Crosby is the one who approached head equipment manager Dana Heinze and asked for two used game pucks to give to the new GM and president of hockey ops. 
After the Penguins won in 2009, Crosby had jackets made for the three players on the team who had scored a Cup-clinching goal in Game 7: Talbot (Pittsburgh), Ruslan Fedotenko (Tampa Bay) and Mike Rupp (New Jersey).
"They were blue jackets with gold buttons, and each one had a patch on it that said 'GWG Game 7,'" Talbot said. "At one of our first team meals the next season, he presented us with the jackets and did a big ceremony with the music and stuff. We had a private room in the restaurant. I still have the jacket."
-The Consummate Teammate, Captain and Ambassador, Feb 2021
2. Merz: My first interaction with Sid was when we were on the bench, guys were talking about a teammate, and the first thing this 15-year-old says is, “Hey, guys. Let’s keep everything positive. Don’t talk about your teammates that way.”
Salcido: When we were getting ready for nationals, he found these little pills that you could put a hidden message inside. They unscrewed, and inside was a tiny scroll. He gave one to every teammate. … He had everyone fill one out. He didn’t tell anyone what to write, but he made it known that we all knew what the goal was: winning nationals. So we wrote on our scrolls, rolled them up and put them in the pill thing. We kept them with us everywhere we went.
-‘Is this real?’: Stories of Sidney Crosby’s year at a Minnesota prep school, May 2020
3. On “Butterfly Boy” Jonathan Pitre:
Though the Senators are his team, Sidney Crosby has always been Jonny’s favourite player. After the TSN documentary airs, Tina gets a call from the Penguins. Sid needs Jonny’s measurements. He wants to have a suit made for him by his personal tailor, Domenico Vacca.
“It’s the kindest, sweetest gesture,” Tina says. “Sid heard that Jonny went to a lot of games, so he wants him to look like he’s one of the guys.”
“I want him to feel like a pro,” Crosby says. “Here’s a guy who is going through something so painful, and his first thought is always, ‘How can I help others?’ When I was young, I’d watch on TV the players coming to the rink in their suits. That was a cool part of being an NHL player. I want him to feel that, to make it as real as possible for him.”
Tina tries to discreetly measure Jonny while she’s changing his dressings. But he’s way too smart for that.
“Um, Mom, why are you measuring me? Am I going for surgery again?” he asks.
“No, no!” Tina replies, trying to reassure him and come up with a good lie, all in the same breath. “The doctor needs them just to make sure they have proper dressings next time you are in.”
A few weeks later, the sharp navy blue suit shows up at their front door, along with a couple of ties, an autographed stick and a handwritten letter from Sid. 
“His eyes just light up,” Tina says. “Jonny always liked to be well-dressed, and he just loves having his own suit. It fits perfectly. He looks so good in it.”
-Beauties by James Duthie (2020)
4. Pascal Dupuis inspired his Pittsburgh Penguins teammates on their run to the Stanley Cup, and Sidney Crosby found a special way of driving that message home.
Dupuis retired in December with lingering health concerns because of blood clots. Despite his NHL playing days coming to an end, the veteran forward remained an integral part of the Penguins and was in uniform to hoist the Cup after Pittsburgh's six-game win against the San Jose Sharks in the Stanley Cup Final.
On Sunday, Dupuis brought the Cup home one last time as a player to share a special day with his family, friends and hometown fans.
"Yes, it does feel bittersweet a little bit," Dupuis said. "You get the Cup, you want to celebrate. But at the same time I got a gift by the mail [Saturday]. Basically, it's a book of all the pictures of all the good stuff we went through. It came from Nova Scotia, so you guys can figure out who it came from (Crosby), but he couldn't give it to me during the season, he saw me skating a little bit.
"And he sent it [Saturday], before my day with the Cup, so he knew what he was doing to get me right here," Dupuis said, putting his fist over his heart.
-Pascal Dupuis shares Stanley Cup with family, friends, Aug 2016
5. In 2011, Crosby was out of the lineup with a concussion, and the Penguins made their annual visit to Children’s Hospital.
Crosby got along so well with one boy there and was so touched that he later asked Bullano to go back... just the two of them, no cameras, no attention.
When Bullano and Crosby met for the follow-up visit, Crosby appeared clutching a pair of Toys “R” Us bags, filled with a Transformer toy the two had discussed.
“He literally bought every type of this toy they make,” Bullano said. “[Crosby] had never seen it before and thought it was so cool.
“There are no pictures of this. There’s no video. He was laying in the bed with the kid. They were just playing. We were there for over two hours. I got to know the mom really well because we were just sitting there.
“The kid had no idea. Didn’t expect it. They had no idea he was coming. We got there and he said, ‘Hey buddy. hope you don’t mind that I came back.’ The kid couldn’t believe it.
“[Crosby’s] crazy cool about stuff like that.”
What’s crazy is trying to recount the many times stuff like this has happened with Crosby:
• The Little Penguins Learn to Play program has been around for nine seasons, outfitting now 1,200 kids with free head-to-toe hockey equipment. Not only does Crosby serve as the face of the program — which the NHL has now adopted — but he helps fund it, too.
“There’s an awareness of what a person in his position can bring,” Penguins vice president of communications Tom McMillan said. “I think he activates that as much as anybody I’ve seen during his playing career.”
• After a recent practice, Crosby noticed a local family in the Penguins dressing room, approached them, introduced himself, learned their story and wound up giving them a signed stick.
Nobody asked Crosby to do that, and he wanted zero credit when discussing it a couple days later.
“For people who have the opportunity to come in here, people dealing with certain things, if you can brighten their day a bit or spend some time with them, it’s something that’s special for all of us,” Crosby said.
• A few years ago, through a team charity event, Crosby befriended a 4-year-old Amish boy with cancer. Crosby remarked to Bullano how much he loved talking to the boy because of how engaging the boy was and how he wasn’t consumed with technology. Crosby even tried to visit the boy but learned he had passed away.
• He learns the first and last names of the kids who attend his hockey school in Cole Harbour, Nova Scotia.
“Two kids came from Japan its first year,” Bullano recalled. “He was so blown away by that. He couldn’t wait to meet them.”
• Earlier this season, the Penguins welcomed Grant Chupinka, 24-year-old cancer patient, into the dressing room. Crosby chatted up Grant and his parents, Steve and Kim.
He spent his usual time — about two or three times the requirement. Gave the tour. Then found out the Chupinkas didn’t have tickets for that night’s game and decided he would pay for them to go.
“I’m sure he could just give them an autographed puck or something, but he takes his time to go out and see them and talk to them and get to know them,” Brian Dumoulin said. “It speaks volumes for him and who he is as a person.”
Spend any length of time with Crosby during his visits with those less fortunate, and a few things become obvious.
One, Crosby is really good at these. Smooth but not in a slimy way. Sweet. You know how when you’re around someone talking and they go out of their way to make eye contact with everyone around? That’s Crosby.
He’s also humble, always introducing himself like those he’s meeting don’t already know. Holding a hand is no issue. And Crosby is the rare 20-something pro athlete without kids who acts every bit like he does.
“It is not an easy situation to talk to someone with terminal cancer,” McMillan said. “A lot of people couldn’t do that. He has an amazing ability to do that and make that person feel good.”
Crosby has welcomed several Make-a-Wish kids and tries, if at all possible, to schedule such events for practice days — to maximize the time he’s able to spend.
He’s developed a special friendship with Patrick McIlvain, a soldier who nearly died when he took a bullet to the head in Afghanistan. McIlvain actually does physical therapy with one of Crosby’s sticks.
A former club hockey player at Cal U, McIlvain comes by every year, and the Penguins don’t even bother to tell Crosby. Either he already knows or immediately stops what he’s doing to come say hello.
“He’s not doing it to leave a legacy,” said Terry Kalna, Penguins vice president of sales and broadcasting. “His numbers leave the legacy. He’s just a down-to-Earth, good guy.”
Before a visit, Crosby has Bullano email him what is essentially a scouting report on who he’s going to meet. He likes to learn about them, their situation and what they’ve been through. As much information as he can ingest. Crosby never just swoops in, shake a hand and leave.
“As much as anyone has ever seen, he accepts the responsibilities of being not just a professional athlete but a star professional athlete,” McMillan said. “He views it as part of the job. Like coming to the morning skate. That’s just what you do.”
Put another way, “he owns those moments,” says Kalna.
Said Bullano, “He’s just a good human being.”
-When it comes to giving, Sidney Crosby does as much as he can, Feb 2017
6. When Crosby received a generous signing bonus on his Reebok deal, he wanted to share it with everyone.
“He gave everyone on the bus gifts,”  says Oceanic radio commentator Michel Germain. “Him sharing his bonus with all the people he’d been travelling with for two years, that impresses me greatly. I think the most important thing about Sidney Crosby is his personality and the kind of human being he is. What he exuded. The inner richness he’d already developed.” 
-Superstitious and generous, Dec 2006
7. also this simply because it makes me ;w;
Even in defeat — no, especially in defeat — Sidney Crosby proved why he wears the "C" for the Penguins.
After the game, with his heart sinking and his season over, the Penguins’ captain bent over, sank to the ice to pick up the puck, took it to linesman Tony Sericolo and then skated to his team’s handshake line.
I immediately thought of a View from Ice Level I’d written on Crosby making sure a retiring official was sent away from PPG Paints Arena properly. I knew picking up the puck wasn’t for the same reason that was, but I also knew, in some way, it was connected to Crosby’s awareness and respect of the game.
“It was for the Islanders,” Crosby told me after the game, his eyes swollen from a first round exit – by way of a sweep to make it worse. He told me how the winning team always wanted the puck, and it was his way of providing it for the Islanders.
Crosby looked me right in the eye as he told me this, just as he did with every other member of the media to come to him after the loss.
I could tell from those swollen eyes and the way he sat at his stall, by himself with his hands folded as he stared blankly, that Sidney Crosby is much more used to being on the receiving end of a puck when a series ends than he is at retrieving it for the winning team.
That scene. His swollen eyes. Staying in the locker room until most had left – talking to anyone who needed him. Most of all, though, picking up the puck that prompted my question in the first place and making sure the right people got their piece of their own history.
It all adds up to one thing: In victory and in defeat, Crosby respects the game above all else – just as he’s always done.
-Even in defeat, Crosby shines, April 2019
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xmint-conditionx · 3 years
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《the emperor’s dagger》 ch4 | myg
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❦ pairing: emperor!yoongi x concubine!reader ❦ w/c: 3.1k ❦ summary: you realize that your love cannot last beyond the secret meetings, but that doesn't make his pull to you any less powerful. he wants to give you everything in his power that he can, but the one thing he can't give you is the thing you want most. but that doesn't stop him from showing you how badly he wants to spoil you... ❦ tags/cw: 18+ please, smut, balcony sex, penetrative sex, one single instance of "daddy", light thigh smacking, gagging (on dick and being gagged), multiple orgasms, oral (f+m recieving), being tied to the bed, they both pretend like there isn't a problem so i guess it's not really that healthy ❦ a/n: please enjoy this unedited mess. school is kicking my butt right now but i figured i would get this out to you now and perfect it later lmao.
<3 minty.
taglist: @jiminisnotavirgin @aretha170 @btstrash2013 @bbykoos @aquaalanah
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You’ve both learned to be more careful. Both with your time, and your feelings. The relationship feels more professional than it did in the recent past, but along with the sting comes the assurance that it’s the right thing to do. It’s the safe thing to do.
Your nightly sword fights have continued without a hitch, although you’ve yet to use a real blade again, since that night a month ago.
He’s made a deliberate effort to formally request you less, and for you, that has likely been the most painful thing. He’s called on other concubines, and the only time the two of you are intimate is when it’s “off the books'' so to speak. The two concubines you’ve grown closest to over your time here, Euriyan and Wysteria, take notice of your pallid demeanor.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Euriyan asks between bites of their lunch.
“Talk about what?”
They both give you the look.
“Nothing’s wrong, seriously,” you say, taking another bite. Wysteria rolls her eyes.
“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to… but I want you to know that I know,” Euriyan says, in an almost threatening manner.
“Wait, what? What do you know?” you ask in a panicked hush. How could they possibly know about your romantic affair with the king?
“I know something is bothering you. You can’t think I don’t know my best friend,” Euriyan says nonchalantly, swallowing their bite before realizing what you thought they meant. Their eyes fly wide open.
“Wait, you have a secret!” they say a little too loudly, so you gently shush them. Shit.
“Okay, yes,” you admit, “I have a secret, and it’s bothering me a little. That’s it.”
“Well, if I can’t know, it must be important,” Wysteria says, mid chew, “Is it your family? Is your mom okay?” she asks, eyebrows scrunching in worry.
“Mom’s fine. She’s actually doing much better. She went with Uncle Benji to the market the other day.”
“Just know you can tell me if you need to, okay?” Wysteria says and Euriyan nods.
“I know,” you say, “I just can’t.”
“It can’t be worse than me sleeping with the head guard,” Euriyan says nonchalantly.
You and Wysteria both stop chewing.
“You can’t be serious!” you exclaim, “how in the world can you manage that?!”
“Well, he does know all of the imperfections in the patrols…” they say. Of course, it’s the same way that you and the King are able to sneak off.
“How long has this been going on?!” Wysteria asks.
“Probably about a month and a half,” they say, continuing to chew, “He’s always been very professional, but something came over me at the moon festival last month.”
“You mean you approached him?!” you ask.
“Yeah,” they say, “he was looking up at the sky and I asked if he liked to look at the stars… then I asked if he wanted to look at them with me… and then he did… then I fell… on his dick… So it can’t be worse than that.”
You stay silent, moving around the bits of your lunch left on the plate.
“It’s not worse than that... right?” they ask.
“Everything is going to be okay,” is all you can say, before picking up your plate and walking back inside.
That night, your king requests you to his chambers instead of the meadow, which is a welcome surprise. Sneaking into the room, you gently close the large and ornate doors behind you before turning toward where your king sits waiting for you.
“Come, sit,” he says, smiling at you as he pats the space on his bed next to him.
You sit on his sheets comfortably, making yourself at home in his presence. No matter how much you tell yourself not to get carried away, you can’t help but melt.
“It’s your birthday next week,” is all he says.
“Um… yes…” you reply, unsure of where this is going.
“So, tell me what you want,” he commands.
“I don’t want anything, Your Majesty,” you say.
“Of course you do!” he says, “Ask me for anything in the world, and it’s yours.”
At that last statement, you can’t help but to wince a little. There are some things even a king cannot get for you. The thing you want most is the one thing he cannot give you.
“My parents could use another fishing boat,” you say, lighting up.
“The gift is meant for you, dove,” he says, but your pleading expression is unwavering. He sighs.
“If it would truly make you happy, then a new fishing boat for your parents would be my pleasure. But that will not stop me from getting you a gift as well…”
“It had better!” you tease, “I said I don’t want anything.”
“Nothing?” he asks, leaning in so that you can feel his breath on your skin, “Nothing at all?”
“Well, there is one thing,” you tease, “but I think you would have no problem giving it to me now…”
You allow your hand to wander up his thigh, and you hear a sharp intake of breath when you give it a small squeeze.
“I ought to make you wait until your birthday…” he says.
“You wouldn’t…”
“I wouldn’t?” he asks playfully, “you sure about that, little dove?”
He runs his fingertips over your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. Every time he touches you, it feels as fresh and exciting as the first time you snuck into his chamber all those months ago. You get lost in him every time.
“Are you going to answer me?” he asks, tone more stern. You meet his gaze as he picks up your hand.
“No, I don’t think you would.”
“You do seem to be my weak spot…” he says onto the soft skin of the top of your hand, “but I’m sure you know that.”
He kisses each of your fingertips, one by one.
“How does it feel to have power over the most powerful person in the kingdom, little dove?” he asks.
“I’m sure that’s not true, Highness,” you say, taking your thumb and running it over his bottom lip, “you are one of the strongest men I know. And you are easily the most stubborn.”
“But you cannot deny that I would do anything in my power for you,” he says.
“That may be true,” you concede, “but I would never ask.”
He stands up from the bed and walks over to the window overlooking the balcony.
“Yes, that’s the infuriating part,” he says with a chuckle before turning around. The moonlight shines behind him and illuminates his blonde hair like a halo. “Why won’t you let me spoil you?”
“I don’t need to be spoiled, Your Majesty.”
“Nobody needs to be spoiled,” he says, “but I can’t stop thinking about how incredible you would look covered in my jewels.”
“Is that right?” you ask incredulously.
Without missing a beat, he walks over to a tall wardrobe against the wall, opens it, and begins sifting through a drawer. You can’t quite see what he’s looking for from your position on the bed, but you can tell by his gentle touch that it must be precious.
When he turns back around, he’s holding a large and heavy-looking necklace that shines a deep green in the dim candlelight. He makes his way back to you and kneels down at the bedside. He reaches up and around your neck to place the jewels, furrowing his eyebrows slightly as he tries to fasten it. He leans in further to get a better view of the clasp, and his warm breath ghosts against your neck. The cold hard metal of the necklace is a shocking sensation after his soft and warm breath. Once secured into place, he pulls back and can’t hide his smile.
“I told you that you’d look incredible,” he says, as he runs his fingers over the jewels and down your cleavage, “I wonder…”
He looks up at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes, as if he’s asking a question. You’re not sure what exactly he’s up to, but you want to find out. You smile back as your answer, and he begins to dip his fingers beneath the edge of the fabric by your breasts.
You shift to allow him to pull the fabric down, and the cool air is shocking against your now exposed breasts. You think that he’s going to spend more attention there, but he just continues to slowly pull the fabric down. Once he gets to your hips, you raise yourself up and help him by shimmying out of the rest of the fabric.
Once your body is fully exposed, he tosses your white dress to the bottom side of his large bed, and turns back around. He goes back to the wardrobe and pulls the whole drawer out before returning back to you. He kneels in front of you again and sets the drawer beside his legs on the wooden floor. As he lowers it, you look inside to see a drawer filled with shining jewelry. Rings, necklaces, bracelets, delicate crowns, all glistening and all too nice to be worn by you.
“Let’s see how much we can fit on you…” he says, grabbing a diamond bracelet and draping it over your wrist. One by one, he adorns you with items from the drawer. Your fingers are covered in rings, jewels drape off of your wrists and ankles, your neck is heavy with the weight of the many necklaces, and a single ornate circlet decorates your forehead.
“In front of me is every last piece of royal jewelry that exists outside of the vault, and you are still the most beautiful thing I see.”
He leans forward and presses a wet kiss on your stomach before kissing his way back up your body, underneath your breasts, lips grazing against your pert nippples before he’s nibbling at your neck.
You begin to work at one of the necklaces to unfasten it from your neck, but he reaches for your wrist before you can.
“No, keep them on,” he says against your skin, “luxury looks good on you.”
He kisses you hard, not wasting any time before opening his mouth and biting your bottom lip. You groan as his hands grab your hips and thumb presses into you. The aching between your legs begins to spill out; you can feel your wetness beginning to pool. He breaks the kiss and tosses you over to the top of the bed, where you bounce gingerly on the pillows that lay there.
He strides quickly back over to the wardrobe and grabs something colorful.
Before you can register what he’s holding, he’s back on top of you; his weight presses you into the bed, and you can feel his cock twitch as he leans his body down over you. As he nibbles along your ear, he takes one of your wrists and hoists it up, and then you feel something cool and soft being secured around it.
When he releases, he quickly moves over to the other hand, leaving you the opportunity to look at his handiwork. Your wrist is secured to the post of his bed with a tight knot in the most beautiful silk you’ve ever seen.
He finishes the other side, and kisses his way up the length of your arm before settling back onto your lips.
“I’m not waiting for you to test my patience tonight, brat,” he says between kisses as he trails back down your body. He plants a sloppy kiss on your aching cunt, and looks back up at you through his lashes from where he is. “I want you to come on my mouth, slut. Do you think you can do that for me?”
“That kind of depends on you, don’t you think?”
He responds with a sharp smack against your thigh, causing you to yelp slightly. He narrows his eyes at you.
“You know better. Keep that pretty little mouth shut, too,” he says before plunging his tongue into your slit. The contact makes your fists clench until your knuckles turn white, and you really, genuinely try to keep it down.
He rolls your clit with his tongue and then closes his lips around it to add suction, and you suck in a sudden breath. Your body tenses up in an attempt to stifle your own moans, but despite your best efforts, a whimper escapes. He stops and looks up at you”
“One more chance, dove,” he says against your heat, “before I have to intervene.”
He continues his unrelenting pace on your clit, and as you begin to climb the mountain, he inserts two fingers into your slit, and you grit your teeth at the small stretch. He curls his fingers upward, hitting your spot, and you teeter on the edge of orgasm. Your thighs tense and tighten around his head, signaling to him that you’re closing in. The king looks up at you once more, and the hunger in his onyx eyes alone pushes you the rest of the way.
You come hard on his lips, unable to stop the small moan that escapes your lips. As you ride out your high, you’re bucking your hips against his mouth before he can wrap his hands around your thighs and hold you still. When you’ve finished coming down, you lay there panting as you hear and feel him readjusting himself. You close your eyes and hear the rustling of fabric before you feel his weight climbing towards you.
You open your eyes to find him walking toward you on the bed, his hard cock at eye level. You put on your best doe eyes and wonder what’s going to happen next.
He stands over your sitting body, cock inches from your mouth.
“Looks like we’re going to have to give that mouth something other than moaning to do, aren’t we, dove?”
You gladly take his length into your mouth in one go. It’s been a little while since you’ve gotten to give him head, and honestly, you miss it. Even without your hands, you’re confident in how weak you can get him.
You flirt with deepthroating as you take him all the way in, but as soon as it seems like you might, you back off and let him back out. He seems to be growing impatient, but you know it takes more than a little bit of teasing for your king to lose control.
You let him slip all the way out, and lean forward to that his shaft is resting on your lips. You move your head forward, licking the bottom as you find one of his balls. You look up and meet his gaze before sucking it into your mouth and rolling it over your tongue. It pops as you release it, and he grunts so quietly you could have missed it.
“It’s been so long since I’ve been able to suck you,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes as his tip rests on your lips, “I think I forgot how…” He grabs onto your hair and speaks in a low voice.
“Then practice.”
You take him back into your mouth, this time opening your throat and sucking him all the way in. You hold him back there as long as you can, before tears begin prickling in the corners of your eyes. When you’re desperate for air, you release him and gasp. The tears fall out of your eyes and down your cheeks. You look up at him and watch as his chest rises and falls.
“Am I doing it right, daddy?”
He answers by pulling your head back onto him, so that you’re taking him in once again. He tightens his grip on your hair and begins to fuck your face, something that you’ve been waiting for. You know it won’t be long until he’s spilling inside of you. You hollow out your cheeks and look up, and as soon as he meets your gaze, he pulls out.
As you’re catching your breath, he quickly unties your hands and practically drags you off of the bed and onto the outdoor balcony. The balcony overlooks the back wall of the palace, and beyond that is stretching forest. He bends you over so that you’re supporting yourself with the balcony railing, and he takes one of those silk ties and gags you with it, securing it behind your head.
He pushes you forward with his body and pulls your hair so that you’re standing upright, neck extended back. His hand glides across your neck as his dick presses against your opening.
He doesn’t tighten his grip on your neck, but he eases himself into your dripping entrance. You moan at the slight ache of his length stretching you out, and then the sound is cut off as he tightens his hand.
“You have been spoiled, don’t you realize? In the clearing, you can be as loud as you want. But you’ve forgotten how to behave, haven’t you?”
You can hear the wet sounds of your cunt as he thrusts into you, setting an unrelenting pace. Before long, you find yourself nearing climax again, and you tighten around him. His hips sputter as he begins to reach his own climax, so you reach your hands back behind your head and tangle them in his hair. As soon as you give it a sharp tug, you hear him groan as he spills inside of you, and your second orgasm of the night begins immediately after.
After you both have cleaned up, you lay stretched out on his large bed as he’s putting the jewels away.
“You seem to be in good spirits lately,” you say, “any good news?”
He places a ring in its proper place in the drawer, and considers for a moment.
“Yes, there is good news, but you may tell no one.”
“Of course, Your Majesty. You have my word.” He sighs.
“I am making efforts toward a peace treaty with the neighboring kingdom. A century of war could be drawing to a close, my dove.”
“And your generals are pleased with this?” you ask. He sighs again, deeper this time.
“The generals do not know.” You allow him to continue.
“I am engaging in secret correspondence with the neighboring king,” he says, turning towards you, “If all goes well, this treaty will be done with only the two of us. We are both tired of fighting, it seems.”
“So, you think this will go well, then?” you ask, and see a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
“Our lives will depend on it, dove.”
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Replaced... for the Better
A/N: OKAY LOVES I DID IT! HERE IT IS! I KNOW IT’S TWO MILLION YEARS LATE BUT HERE!  
Pairing: Paul Lahote x black!reader x Jasper Hale
Genre: Angst
Warnings: Heavy angst, sort of cheating. 
Requested: No, but pleeeease request. I’m booored
Word count: 1106 (eep SORRY it’s so short! I was in a mood when I wrote out the rought draft hehe)
Summary: You find out you’re not the only one Paul imprinted on. But how will you take it? There MIGHT be a part 2, if enough people want it.
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(GIF’s are not mine. Credit to owners!)
You weren’t the most beautiful woman in the world, and you knew it. But Paul still loved you. You knew he did. Or, you thought he did. Allow me to set the scene:
 It was August, 2008. Slightly chilly outside, so it was cold inside, too. You were cooking dinner for the boys. You heard the door open, and you felt a cool Autumn breeze flow through your burnt orange sweater.
 “Angel?” You smiled. It was Paul, your fiance. But... you thought you heard another person with him. One of the pack, maybe? 
 “Kitchen, baby! C’mere, I want you to taste this gumbo I’m makin’!” You were from New Orleans, and you were always cookin’ up soul food for your boys. A lot of times, you’d try some new food that you weren’t familiar with, but they’d all turn out wonderful. You and Emily were the best cooks on the reservation, that was for sure. The Pack thought y’all were the best cooks in Forks, but that was a bit cocky, and cocky wasn’t really your thing. 
 Paul’s footsteps stalled in the hallway, and you could hear the faintest of whispers. You rolled your eyes, knowing how much Paul and Jared loved to sneak up behind you and steal tastes of whatever you were cookin’. 
 “Come on in, boys! I’ll let you have a taste, too, Jared!” You assured the other Quileute boy you were sure accompanied your man.
 “Uh... Y/N, I’m not with Jared...” Paul’s voice sounded hesitant, and you knew instantly something was wrong. He never ever called you by your name. He must’ve done somethin’ stupid again, you figured.
 “What’d you do now, Paul?” Your voice held a hint of amusement, but it was mostly tired. You’d been on your feet all day, and now Paul was being all suspicious, so you were not going to get to rest any time soon. Well, you were more right about that than you had thought. 
“Um, Y/N, can you come into the living room?” You put down the sharp kitchen knife that Emily gave you for your 18th birthday last month, which you were using to dice the carrots. Slowly, you turned the stove flame down, making sure the gumbo wouldn’t burn. Then, ever so slightly, you peeked your head into the living room. With Paul was another man. Pale, pale thing, honeyed hair, and golden eyes. You relaxed a bit. The Cullens came over from time to time, so you were familiar with the blonde doctor and his family. You smiled, walking over to be a good hostess and welcome him, when you noticed a minor detail you hadn’t seen before.
They were holding hands.
You stopped in your tracks, your smile faltering. Paul let go of the blond Cullen boy’s, (was his name Jasper?) hand, moving closer to you.
“Angel,” Paul began, walking towards you. “This is Jasper.” So you were right. “He’s my other imprint.” You dropped to the floor in shock, legs bent to the left, hands supporting your upper half to your right. 
“Y/N?” Paul knelt beside you, his brows furrowed in concern. You shook off his hand.
“When?” You inquired, eyes still trained on the ground before you.
“Y/N-”
“When??” You questioned once more. Paul flinched slightly, then closed his eyes.
“The battle with the newborns.” Your breath caught. That was only 3 months after you and he had met. Only two weeks after you and Paul had first kissed. You had forgotten to breathe, and now your lungs burned for air. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Forcing a smile onto your features, you got to your feet. 
“Hello,” Jasper said, nodding slightly. You softened a bit. You could tell he was nervous. 
“Hi, honey. It’s wonderful to meet you.” You offered one of your better, more sincere smiles. 
“You as well, ma’am.” Jasper stuck his hand out for you to shake.  You shook your head, pushing it away.
“Now, now, sweetie. None of that.” You opened your arms, stepping forward.
“I’m a hugger, shugs.” He opened his arms as well, and you both shared a sweet - albeit awkward - embrace.
“Come on,” you said, pulling away. 
“I’m makin’ some gumbo, and I need you to mince the celery.” You took his cold hand in yours and led him into the kitchen. You gave him a stalk of celery and handed him a knife, telling him to get to work.
And then, it was like you had both known each other forever. Because it had to be. You didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, and you definitely didn’t want to discourage Paul from happiness. So you laughed and smiled ‘till it hurt, locking your true feelings away in an iron safe so deep down, it was lost to even you.
Eventually, Jasper went home, and you stayed happy. For the rest of the day, you were all smiles, so bubbly it should’ve been suspicious. But nobody asked. Maybe they simply didn’t notice. Or maybe, just maybe, nobody cared.
                                                    _ _ _
Late that night, you and Paul were set up on the bed you both shared. You had your body resting against Paul’s chest, your lap housing a red bowl halfway filled with popcorn. You and Paul were watching a movie. It was one of the sappy romances that Paul couldn’t stand, but you loved them, and he loved you. Didn’t he? You were playing with Paul’s fingers when he asked you,
“You sure you’re okay with it?” He didn’t have to say what he meant. You knew. You put on your best act, looked up into Paul’s face, and you lied to him.
“Absolutely. Jas - He’s family now.” You couldn’t bring yourself to say his name. You hoped Paul didn’t notice. Paul’s expression changed, happy now. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, resting his chin on your head.
“You have no idea what that means to me, Angel. Thank you,” he whispered. You said nothing, not wanting to say anything else you couldn’t take back. You both went back to watching the movie. You were no longer playing with your man’s fingers, your hands now resting on either side of the popcorn bowl. Neither of you said another word. 
Once the movie was over, you tied up your hair, laying next to Paul for the night. You waited for Paul’s breathing to even out, then changed into some decent runners clothes. You packed a duffel, and then, slipping a note into the side of the bed that you usually slept on, you left, without uttering so much as a goodbye.
A/N: I know it’s late, but it’s FINALLY done lmao. I had it written out weeks ago on paper, but between studying for midterms and failing biology, I haven’t really had time to update. Now, this wasn’t the ending I ORIGINALLY planned to go with, but i’m a bitch so I decided to change it. Part 2 MIGHT include more of the Cullen fam, and there MIGHT be a slight shift in gravity MUAHAHAHA. I have many things planned for the dear reader... so follow my account (or ask to be added to my taglist) for P2 when it comes!! SOrry for the title... my brain is spent and y’all probs won’t even see any MENTIONS of a P2 until March hahaha. But anyway hope y’all enjoyed this!
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hournites · 3 years
Text
Hournite Week Day 1: Light vs Dark - Hoax
Summary: When a distraught Beth visits the Farmlands one late night, Rick offers his support.
(read on ao3)
~.~
At the end of the day, Rick prefers to sit alone. There’s a chair in the living room, the room he used to play and sit with his parents in on the couch. The room he’d opened gifts on birthdays, watched television with his mother and sat by the window, looking out at the field for his father to come home. Matt has claimed that couch now. Rick doesn’t care to use it except when he’s forced to clean. It’s stained with beer and food that’s fallen through the cushions. His uncle brings women there, rarely ever the same woman twice. Rick knows it’s dirty and defiled and as beat up as the rest of the furniture Matt touches.
Rick prefers his father’s old recliner, shoved in the back dark corner where he can get the best bandwidth for the internet connection. Behind his uncle, it’s almost like Matt forgets Rick’s there. He studied those chemistry textbooks there, half-assed homework there, and fell asleep on rare occasions too. Outside of locking himself in his upstairs bedroom, it’s the closest to being invisible Rick gets. The closest to peacefulness he knows.
It’s on a Saturday night like that the doorbell rings, interrupting the tense quiet they’ve carved to share space.
Matt lifts his head from his phone, half-slouched on the couch, disgruntled when it rings twice more. “The hell?”
Rick stares ahead at the front door from the hall, startled by the foreign noise. “Um.”
Nobody uses the doorbell. They don’t even get visitors. The mailman drops parcels and bills off at the mailbox half a mile down the dirt walkway.
He looks at Matt.
“Ignore it.”
Rick stands. “It’s probably some real estate agent or something.” He’d notice a lot of the property nearby has gone up for sale. If he said they weren’t interested in buying, then they’d know not to come again.
“Exactly. So, leave it be.”
But the doorbell rings again just as he turns to walk away. Rick makes a move to the door.
“I said ignore it.”
He rolls his eyes. Well, now Rick was definitely going to do it. He glares at his uncle over his shoulder, twisting his wrist to unlock the door. “You can’t just tell me to—”
The door swings open and his eyes flit forward to address the figure at the arch. “Beth?”
Dressed in a dark purple cardigan and light-wash jeans, she’s clenching the rubber bars of her bike, fingers scrunched up like she wants to scratch it off with her nails. Like she’s moments from ripping it off entirely. She’s holding herself too stiff, head raised and chin jutted out. Rigid like she can’t move, twitching like she wants to fight. The irises of her big brown eyes skip from left to right, pleading.
“Can I stay here with you?”
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Please —” she begs, voice cracking. “Can I stay over with you?”  
“Tell them to fuck off!”      
Rick glances back awkwardly over his shoulder, wary of his uncle, not sure what to say.
“Rick, please—”
Rick steps outside and shuts the front door behind him.
“Why are you here? Are you okay?”
Beth drops the handles and her bicycle falls to the porch with a clatter.
His eyes widen when she lurches forward, catapulting across the creaking wood. Rick grunts softly at the force of her hug. He stumbles back with her, wrapping her arms tight as they stand in the doorway.
Her body shudders and whatever storm she had been withholding inside releases with a bursting sob. Beth sniffles into his shirt, the angle of her round glasses pressed into his ribs. Rick looks down, at a loss.
“Hey,” he rasps out, taking a firm grasp at her shaking shoulder. “Beth. Okay. Shh. Jesus, don’t cry.” Matt’s going to hear this. He’s going to hear and come and see and make this a mess. The thought makes his blood run cold. Rick peels her off. It hurts and is jarring and she seizes at the rip of comfort he just tore away that he knows she needs, but hair stands up on his arms, hyper-cognizant. It’s not that he thinks Matt will—Rick doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what he’d do and that’s been why he’s avoided letting the girls show up here.
“This can’t happen right now.” The last thing Rick wants is for Matt to find out about the hourglass or the JSA. The girls are his tether to that and he can’t risk Matt taking advantage or robbing anything he has no right to. Again.
Beth recoils. He’s quick to pull her back in, panicked. It’s not that he doesn’t care.  “I didn’t say that right. We just can’t do this here.”
“What do you mean?”
He leads her off the porch by the hand to around the side of the house. Rick can tell she’s biting down her lip to stop from asking another question, but it becomes clear where they’re going when they reach his parked car and she relaxes. He hops onto the hood and makes room for her. Beth looks reluctant, but joins him there, still brushing close, wanting him near.
“You don’t want me to stay?”
“It’s not that,” he promises. “I just don’t know how he’s going to react.”
Her wet eyelashes get stuck against the wall of her thick lenses. “Your uncle Matt?”
“I’ve told you. He’s not a good person.” His tone edges on sharp. “There’s a reason why I don’t want—” He pinches the bridge of his nose, fighting down his belligerence. Rick takes a breath. This isn’t going to help her. “He doesn’t treat women right.” He pauses, wanting to say more, but can’t bring himself to say the words.
She stares at him. “You think he’s a racist.”
“Well.” That too.
Beth slides off the car.
“Beth. Wait.”
She rubs at her eyes with the sleeve of her cardigan, turning back in the direction they came.
“I’ll go home.”
“Tell me what’s wrong first.” He follows her along the muddy grass. “You wanted to stay overnight.”
“You don’t want me here!” She shakes her head and squeezes her eyes shut. “This was stupid of me. I shouldn’t have come. I should’ve asked first.”
“Beth, that’s not true. I do. I always want to see you. It’s just...” His implication is obvious, but it came out worse than he’d meant it to. The point is, she could’ve gone to anyone else. She could’ve gone to see Courtney.
She should’ve called Pat. They trust Pat. He’s safe and is a good problem solver as annoying as his methods are.
She came here instead. And yeah, he does wish she could’ve texted or called, but the fact she’s now thinking it was wrong seems strange.
Rick knew something wasn’t right the moment he saw her in front of his doorstep, but now he’s very worried as he hears her curse herself and blinking back more tears. Beth has always been so confident in herself, regardless of how others perceived her. He had never heard Beth call herself dumb or pathetic or stupid. He didn’t believe she had ever seen herself that way either. Why would she?
According to their high school, she might be a loser, but there had never been a day she wasn’t unapologetically proud to be herself. There’s nothing wrong with being outspoken or bold or self-assured, trusting or smart and self-sufficient. She’s all of the above and maybe that had intimidated or even annoyed Rick sitting across from her to overhear, but it didn’t make it less true.
Doesn’t Beth know that?
She looks at him again. “I thought we were—”
“We are.”
She lets out another long breath and swallows.
“We are. It’s not that I don’t… My uncle is a real asshole. That’s it.” He grabs her hand. “Okay?”
“Okay.” She lifts a helpless shoulder, glancing back at the mustang. She lingers on it like she wants to go in.
“What?” Rick asks.
“Do you wanna leave Blue Valley with me?”
She doesn’t mean a road trip. The question throws him. Not because it’s terrifying to hear that from her. Though it fucking is. It throws him because he’s had the same thought pass through his mind at night a thousand times. A thousand times a week. Everything could be better, away. Without the memories or the roads or the trees and the people who’ve made this town an awful place. But their perspectives on Blue Valley had always been Rick and Beth’s stark difference. What happened to her unwavering devotion to caring about the town and everyone in it? It’s what Rick liked so much. The light from within her pushed her bravery, eradicating her limits.
“Beth,” he speaks carefully. “Why are you running away?”
Beth turns her face towards the farms, letting go of his hand. “I love my parents so much.”
Rick’s face softens. “I know.”
“No. They’ve been my inspiration my whole life. How can—I can’t fathom how…it’s all...”
“What are you talking about?”
Beth tugs her fingers into the sleeves of her cardigan crossed over her chest, refusing to meet his gaze, miserable. She takes so long to answer, but Rick can see the fight in her mind in the way she sticks her jaw. Whatever it is she’s torturing herself with it, Rick can feel it just by standing nearby. “Beth?”
“It’s the ISA, Rick. I didn’t want to believe it but it’s been them all along. My—” She chokes on her words.
Dread sinks to his gut. “Which one?”
“Both.” The blankness that shadows over her face, Rick has seen it before. The ghost of Yolanda’s detachedness after she was betrayed. The shattering shake in Henry’s voice moments before he was gone. “Chuck found out a while ago but I kept pushing it back and pushing it back because it wasn’t true? It wasn’t true and I couldn’t accept that until...They’re close with Richard Swift.”
He touches her arm, lets his hand slide down the expensive sweater to reach for her hand when she cries again.
“Can’t we just go?” When she asks Rick again, he understands. The slimmer of hope she’s threaded through her request. What it’s costing him not to say yes.  
“Come inside,” he whispers instead, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. It's a dead weight like a stone in his hand. It shouldn’t be like this. Beth shouldn’t be like this. She’s not okay. “You can stay.”
She shoots a nervous glance at the house. “I don’t want to if it’s a problem.”
“I’ll make sure it’s not a problem,” he cuts in, sharp.
Beth mutters something, but Rick doesn’t catch it. He jogs back to the front porch and bends over to pick up her bike and lock it in the shed.
He returns, awkwardly holding her school bag, leaning against the wall.
“Stay here,” Rick says, “I’ll come to get you.”
He goes back inside and stands in front of Matt.
“My friend is staying over.”
“You have friends?” Matt scrolls on his phone with a snort. When he realizes Rick isn’t joking, he glances up. “No.”
“I’m not asking.”
“I babysit enough after you—”
“Is that what you call it?” Rick snarks.
Matt’s eyes flash at him. They say Don’t test me.
Rick steps away. He won’t. The plan isn’t to piss him off. He wants Beth to survive the night here. “She’ll stay in my room and I’ll sleep on the floor or something. It’s just for today.”
To Rick’s horror, Matt leers. “She’ll stay in your room?”
“Don’t.” Rick makes it clear. “Don’t. Don’t talk to her. She’s upset enough. She doesn’t need you in her business.”
“Whatever.”
“I’m serious,” Rick says. The flippant way Matt goes back to his phone has him unnerved. If it wasn’t for the fact he has the hourglass tucked away in his room, he’d walk right out and drive Beth to Pat’s instead. It’s not worth it.
But Rick can take Matt on now. If that’s something he ever needs to do.
“What’s her name?”
Rick doesn’t even want to tell him. He turns around and brings Beth in.
She wipes at her face and sucks in her hurt, attempting and failing to gather her emotions. “Sorry, Mr. Harris. I’m—”
“—No.” Rick pushes her past the living room before she could even finish her sentence. “Nope.”
“Is that any way to speak to your father? ” Matt yells after him.
Rick rolls his eyes hard and shuts the door to his room pointedly.
Beth sits gingerly onto his unmade bed. “You could’ve at least let me introduce myself. I’m in his house.”
“This is not his house.”
“Oh.” Beth picks at his linty sheet. “Right.”
He waits as long as he can before he can’t help himself. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” she mutters. Beth reaches into her bag for Chuck and hands him over. “It’s all there.” Next, she pulls out a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt. “Sorry. Can I change?”
“Uh. Sure.” Rick moves. “Tell me when I can come back in.”
Rick leans against the wall, waiting, wondering what he should do. Chuck is in his hands, half-lit. The last time he learned the truth through green hue, his life had changed for good. Was this what it felt like for her?
The projection skittered across the off-white peeling walls.
James Chapel. The American Dream. Hired by Jordan Mahkent, January 2006. James Chapel, MBA Keynote Speaker - Geopolitical Realignment in the Pursuit of an American Dream. Funded by Richard Swift. The Theoretical Abnormalities of Frontal-Cortex Reconfiguration published by Blue Valley Medical Centre Press. Authored by Henry King Jr, Bridget Chapel et al. 2000. Scholarship funding provided by Swift Inc.
It is followed by grainy photographs of a tall slender woman in a blue and red polymer jumpsuit with the youthfulness of Beth’s face. The pixels dissolve away and return with one that resembles her father. There’s more evidence, hard core pictures. Records of Henry Jr’s faked autopsy. Medical records on Joey Zarick. Notes on the political numbers in William Zarick’s campaign.
“I’m sure this comes as a great shock.”
“How didn’t you know?” It feels ridiculous to hiss accusations at a piece of tech no matter how special. He does it anyway. The damage, it’s done. He has half the mind to smash Chuck against the floor. He doesn’t hate Chuck, he knows how important he is to Beth. It’s just the gratification Rick craves to break something that hurt her.
“A glitch in my system. The Gambler had scrambled their affiliation well. It’s not until I’ve reloaded my servers and Beth brought me into Dr. Chapel’s work office that she uncovered any peculiarities.”
“This is going to break her.”
“Bruise,” Chuck corrects. “Not break.”
Rick shuts it off when his door cracks open.
She stepped out looking as cozy as one could with red-rimmed eyes.
Rick tilts his head up from his crouched position in the hall, passing Chuck back to her. She hugs the goggles close.
“Where are you sleeping?” she asks. “I won’t let you on the floor.”
“I have a chair.”
“Where?”
“The living room?”
She considers it, peering down the stairs. “Isn’t that where your uncle passes out?”
“I can bring it up here.”
“We shared a bed at Pat’s cabin.”
“That was before…” Besides, Barbara was there checking in like every two hours.
“Rick,” Beth whispers. “I just want you near.”
~.~
She is near, nestled in his arms. The sheer closeness makes his heart jump, the solid feel of her body beside his. Beth trusts him, confides in him. Looks up at him when he hears her.
“I don’t believe they’d ever hurt me,” she says at last. Rick bites his tongue. Physically? No. Indirectly? He’s seen the way she’s vied for their attention. Idolized herself after their values. The dependency they’ve fastened to leech onto their ideals of transparency and complete openness from her side when they don’t return the favour. Some of their FaceTime calls at lunch had been flat-out weird. Rick assumed it was his irritability flaring out whenever they bothered to check in on her. What if it was surveillance?
Beth catches his hesitation and frowns. “I know what you’re thinking. My parents are different. I know they’re…on the wrong side but they’re not like Tigress and Sportsmaster.” She’s defending them. Naturally, and in spite of her grief. He squeezes her arm, unthinking.
“I didn’t think they were.”
She turns and pulls on the sheet, staring up at his ceiling. “You know what’s funny?”
“What?”
“Ever since I found out, my mind always circles back to you.”
“Me?” Rick’s brows crease against his pillow. “Why?”
“I was wrong about you too. I thought you were this unfeeling aggressive person that sat next to me at lunch all those years because you were indifferent.” She glances at him. “That’s not true.”
“It was a little true.”
She ignores that, carrying on. “But I wanted to be wrong about you from the beginning so I fought against my feelings to prove myself right that night. And I was. There’s so much more to you.”
He props his elbow up to study her quietly.
“I thought if there was more to you, there has to be more to my mom and dad. I didn’t think they could just leave me in the dark. That’s why I didn’t say anything for so long.”
“You don’t need to apologize.”
He knows that she knows they’ll be talking to Courtney and Yolanda and Pat soon. That the world as she knew it was gone now. For now, Rick listens, being there for her.
Beth might’ve been left in the dark, but she navigates well in it. Her heart and wisdom are a bright light in themselves. And she’s touched him with it, seared him with her brightness and truth in a way he can’t ignore. Beth lightened him in a way he’s only more drawn to. And if she loses it now, if it dims out of her, Rick swears he’ll find it. He’ll find it and bring it back out if he has to.
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whosaskingwrites · 3 years
Text
The Sound Of Love (Tsukishima x Reader)
A/N: Um I don't like this one as much as the others but I did my best. It honestly took forever cause I didn't want to write it and I had no idea what song to use but I eventually decided so here we are.
WARNINGS: angst
Date: Saturday November 7th, 2020
Details: 5.3 pages 2,000 words
Theme: Musicalia- The victim will hear a song constantly playing in their head until it drives them insane. The person of affection will only hear the music when they are around the victim.
Angst Masterlist
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Clair De Lune
A simple, beautiful piano melody that had been repeating in my head for weeks. There was never a reprieve from the beautifully haunting melody. My mind followed the sound like a moth to a flame and deteriorated the closer it got to the music.
No amount of holding my hands over my ears stopped it. It had become a part of me like the backround music in a video game or movie. However this wasn't a video game or a movie this was real. Every day was the same never a rest I couldn't even sleep some nights.
This was my last week at Karasuno before I was put in the hospital. My mind was too far gone to stay out I couldn't really hear anything anymore to distracted by the music and of course I hummed it on occasion. Everyone in my classes knew I had it...Musicalia but they didn't know who caused it.
Monday
I walked to class with a sigh Yamaguchi was following and as we walked I heard a gentle piano melody that got louder. I spotted a familiar H/c haired girl fast walking past me like she'd done since I pushed her away. Yamaguchi followed my eyesight and the music faded the further away she got "you should apologize you know. This week is her last at Karasuno," I blinked 'her last week?' I thought "Shut up Yamaguchi," I said keeping my emotions off my face "Sorry Tsukki," I continued watching the S/c skinned female rush off down the hall.
Tuesday
I was walking up to the roof ready to reject another girl. Why they felt the need to confess to me of all people id never understand. As I rounded the corner someone ran into me and with a short shriek they fell. I was about to say something when I noticed who it was...Y/n she looked paler than I remembered and eye bags were prevalent on her face. I heard the piano again it was louder than ever.
"Do you need to listen to music that loud?" I asked though it was harsher than intended. Her eyes widened and I held back a frown as I saw she was afraid. "S-sorry," she stood up quickly and ran off down the hall the music fading the further she got and I watched 'why was she afraid of me?' My eyes caught something on the floor which I turned to. Picking it up I realized it was a simple gold bracelet with a dinosaur charm on it.
"This is...," It was the bracelet id given her three years ago on her birthday. It was still in perfect condition looking like it did on the day I'd given it to her and it caused a small smile to pull at my lips as I pocketed the familiar bracelet.
Wednesday
Everytime I spotted the e/c eyed female in the hallway and approached her she would turn and run the music following her. Nobody ever seemed bothered by the piano it was almost like they didn't hear it and Y/n was never wearing headphones when it was playing. "Does she ever stop listening to that song?" I mumbled to myself as she ran away yet again.
"What song?" Yamaguchi asked next to me I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at him. "What do you mean what song? That damn piano music she's always listening to it's annoying," I said and Yamaguchi’s eyes widened "Tsukki...She's not listening to any music...," He stated.
I blinked as I processed what that meant "No ive heard it-," Yamaguchi cut me off before I could continue he had a sad look in his eyes and as he spoke I realized why. "She's got Musicalia Tsukki...," He whispered as he looked at me. "She...She what?" I asked. "She's got Musicalia and if you can hear it that means...," my own eyes widened as I realized what he was implying. "Oh...,"
Thursday
Cornering someone who was avoiding you was much more difficult than you'd think. Everytime I ended up even in the same room as her she ran before I could even get near her. "Yamaguchi," I stated causing him to jump. "Yeah?" He nervously asked. "Can you convince Y/n to meet you on the roof?" I asked. He didn't ask any questions he just nodded mumbling a quiet yeah as the teacher walked in the room.
I stood on the roof looking out towards the gym. I heard footsteps come around the corner and stop before they slowly started backing away. "Can you stop running? I need to talk to you," I said. The footsteps stopped and I turned around. Y/n stood a few feet away nervously shuffling on her feet.
"When were you gonna tell me?" I asked and she sighed "Preferably never," She answered and I furrowed my eyebrows. "Never? This could kill you!" I took a step toward her while she took one back "So what?" She spit bitterly rasing her head up to glare. "So what? So everything!" I shouted.
"So everything? You dont even fucking like me! You made that pretty clear last year!" She yelled back. She was referencing an argument that I barely remembered and that she hadn't forgotten. "Do you even know what its like to have your heart crushed in seconds!?" She screamed. "You still should have told me you have Musicalia!" I glared back. 
She just gave me a bitter smile "I suppose my dear this was how it was meant to be," she stretched her arms out as she spoke and tears dripped down her face at a slow pace. "You dying isn't how it's supposed to be!" She only shook her head in response. I stuck my hand in my pocket and pulled out the bracelet. "Here...just take this back," I said holding it out. She walked forward and I heard that gentle and haunting music get louder.
She stopped closing my hand around the bracelet and leaning up to press a kiss against my cheek. "Keep it I won't have a use for it much longer," she mumbled before turning and walking off. "Y/n!" She stopped but didn't turn around and I continued speaking. "I love you," she sighed and turned her head. The sunset cast her in an ethereal glow and sparkled off the remaining tears on her face.
She gave a sad, watery smile in response. "No you don't Tsukki. If you did...You would have come back to me a lot sooner," she turned and left I knew she was right but god it hurt to hear her say that. My hand was still tightly closed around the bracelet the metal uncomfortably warm against my skin as she walked away from me.
Friday
She avoided me even more. I never saw her but I heard the music following around on occasion. After yesterday I had looked for the melody finally hearing it long enough to search for it. The results had told me the song was Clair De Lune I should have known. It was Y/n's favorite song though I doubted she liked it now.
I had tried to find her when I heard the music but even if I followed it I never found her. I was walking toward my locker keeping an ear out for that melody. As I opened the locker a f/c envelope fell out as I picked it up I noticed it was sealed with a gold wax stamp. Flipping it over my name was written on the front in flowing cursive. I put it away in my bag before heading to practice.
I flipped the envelope around in my hand staring at it before sighing. I pulled open the envelope and slipped the contents out. The first was a photo of me, Y/n, and Yamaguchi we were standing in the park in the photo. Y/n and Yamaguchi had their arms over eachothers shoulders while I stood in the background glaring towards the camera.
The other thing was a letter that I was hesitant to flip open. I knew the letter was from Y/n but I for the first time felt afraid on what she had to say. Sighing I opened the letter ready to read it.
Dear Kei,
It's been awhile hasn't it? Though That's what happens after fights. You give each other time to calm down and then you come back. Only this time...There is no coming back. You already know I have Musicalia and I'm sure you know I love you. It's weird to write that to someone you know doesn't love you.
Don't lie either. You don't love me the way I love you. You may think you do but if you had we would have been friends again by now. But you were perfectly content with not having me in your life so I know you'll be fine when I'm actually gone.
That's the issue isn't it? I'll be gone soon really, truly...gone. I'm not afraid knowing my death is approaching im...content and at peace with it. My death won't be glorious. I'm not going out with a bang. Or any final inspirational words. I'll go quietly in my sleep hopefully. Sleep however is hard when there's music constantly playing on loop in your head.
When I'm gone Kei...Will you visit me? Tell me about your day or the volleyball team! Yamaguchi told me about the team you should go easier on them. You should also learn from them you know? Anyways if you ever can't make it to me...Play Clair De Lune and I'll go to you! I'll listen to you talk at your place instead of you coming to mine!
I'm sure you know by now that this is my goodbye letter. Don't act so suprised of course I want to say goodbye to you. You're important to me you should know that. I've written this for awhile but I wanted it to be a good final goodbye since its immortalized forever in a letter. If you share this with anyone I'll kill you by the way. Even in death I still have a reputation. Anyway...
Goodbye Kei
I love you
—Y/n L/n
A month had passed since she said goodbye I moved forward even though it hurt to not see her around school. It almost felt like she moved but that imagine was ruined whenever I visited her grave. "Hey Tsukki I didn't know you liked dinosaurs!" I sighed in irritation my eyes flicking towards Kuroo who was pointing at my wrist.
"Wow that's cool!" Bokuto joined in and my eyes drifted to the golden bracelet around my wrist. "It's not mine," I stated drinking my water. "Whos is it?" Akaashi asked and I sighed again. "My friend Y/n’s...She's gone now and I'd rather not talk about it," I said standing up and heading back to the net. None of them said anything more about it and I was grateful for that.
Later that night I closed my eyes and played the song that I had grown very familiar with. It was quiet except for the soft melody playing through my headphones. While my eyes were closed I felt the familiar pressure on my body like someone was laying on my chest. If I listened through my headphones close enough I could almost hear her soft voice humming the song. 
I knew in my brain it was impossible but for now I let my heart believe that it was her. I talked quietly about anything and everything that came to mind. The team was sleeping so I knew I could talk freely most of them slept like they were in a coma. I sighed as I reached the end of my story before I spoke once more.
"I miss you Y/n,"
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TAGLIST: @wonhomarshmallow
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writingsbychlo · 4 years
Text
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blurred lines | dave hodgman
word count; 9237
summary; a few miscommunications almost ruin something that could be phenomenal.
notes; I had this idea, and I really liked it, so i just rolled with it. this is the dave insert for my birthday week celebration/7k follower milestone.
warnings; smut, public sex, car sex.
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There weren’t many people that were more popular than Jane and her group of friends. They were like high school elites, and yet there was always that even more exclusive tier, those who were for all intents and purposes, teen royalty.
As he was saying, there weren’t many people more popular than the likes of Jane, Stanwyck and Brianna. However, Dave could without a doubt say that (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was.
She had more likes on just one of her Instagram posts than that of all of Dave’s posts combined. If he added the combined sum of Big C’s and Simon’s, they’d probably still fall short, even collectively. There wasn’t a student or teacher that disliked her. She was well known not only in his own school, but in others too. Even Aubrey knew of her and liked her, and that was saying something, because Aubrey had a twisted sense of importance and political standing in every view of it.
That was why Dave couldn’t quite understand exactly how he’d gotten himself into this position.
Well, that’s a lie. He knew exactly how he got himself into this dreadfully embarrassing position, that would likely ruin not only the remaining months of his senior social life, but was so colossal that it may well actually follow him to college, too.
See, it had all started three days ago, a Monday lunch-time just like any other, as he sat pouting into his basket of curly fries as Simon once again scrolled through Aubrey’s latest uploaded pictures on Instagram with her new boyfriend and shaming him in an attempt to feel better. Dave was fine, he’d moved on, truly, but Simon clearly hadn’t, and needed his own closure on the situation.
It soon followed with “so David, which of all the lovely ladies in this school are you going to take to the dance, because you have two tickets, a dashing suit, and I refuse to let you waste them,” which had prompted Dave to snort a laugh, and make a joke about asking the heartbreaker (Y/N) (Y/L/N) dance, since he had nothing else to lose.
Apparently, he’d still had a shred of dignity, which was curling up and dying with every second that passes him by, but back to how this all came to be;
Unfortunately for him, his ‘good friend’ Jane had passed by at exactly that moment, and had been just thrilled at the prospect of him finally asking out the girl he’d “been pining over so long I thought you were going to turn into Ryan Gosling and rebuild he a house out in the country after hanging from a Ferris wheel”, which still left a bitter taste in his mouth, because how had the girl picked up in his pining for you, but never once picked up on the feelings he’d once held for her?
Despite that, a collection of kids Dave wasn’t confident in the names of but often followed Jane around had seated themselves at their table, and Jane - in all her innocence and confusion - was excitedly telling them about how Dave was finally going to ask out his crush.
That was exactly how he found himself here, almost two days later, feeling all pairs the eyes in the more-crowded-than-usual corridors as he leaned against your locker and tried to look as casual as possible as he waited for you, as though it wasn’t scaring him shitless and making him sweat like a sinner in church. He pulled at the collar of his shirt with one finger, trying to distract himself from all the people watching and whispering, waiting to see if Dave Hodgman could, in fact, score (Y/N) (Y/L/N), or if more likely, he was going to be rejected in a pile of flaming shame and the crumbling of what shredded remains he had left of his dignity.
“Hey, Dave.”
He felt like a moron. A moron that had been looking the wrong way down the corridor and now you were standing behind him, leaning back with a small laugh to avoid being hit when he spun around to face you with such speeds that his own head was spinning. “Hey! Hi! Hello!”
He cringed visibly at his ridiculous greeting, the confidence he’d held was slipping from him with every passing second, and you did a better job of avoiding the lingering gazes in the halls than he was, you barely seemed to notice them as you allowed him to step out of the way of your locker so that you could swap out your books, but he supposed you were used to it. “I’ve been waiting to talk to you, there are some rumours flying around.”
He wished he could hate the way you were teasing him, but he couldn't. It was playful, not mocking, and you were offering him such a friendly smile and making him feel comfortable once again, and he just couldn't find it within himself to dislike any part of you. “Yeah, I had a question for you..”
“You had a question for me?”
“I suspect you already know what it is” His shoulders sagged, he felt himself giving up, the stress and pressure were just too much, but he at least wanted to be able to walk away with dignity after his inevitable rejection, he didn’t want to be seen running through the halls in order to escape your soft voice trying to let him down gently.
“Will you say it anyway?”
He fixed you with a studious gaze, unsure as to what your angle was, but gave you a stiff nod anyway, and hooked his thumbs through the straps of his backpack as he stood tall. “I was wondering if you’d like to go to the ‘Night In Vegas’ dance with me? As my date. Y’know.. um.. yeah.”
“I’d love to.”
He gaped at you - blinking once, twice, three times - before his face was splitting in a grin, and he cleared his throat. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Woah.” You seemed to find amusement in his reaction, and you pulled his hand up to you and plucked a pen out of your bag, uncapping the lid with your teeth and moving the nib towards his skin, beginning to write down your number. “God, I was so nervous, and now I feel stupid. Nobody thought I would get you, not even me, and all these people are here an-”
“Get me?” Your pen had stilled on his skin, and he looked back at you, shrugging his shoulders as your face seemed to take on a neutral expression, unreadable as you watched him.
“Yeah. You’re like.. really popular, and pretty, and just way out of my league. Nobody really thought you’d go for me because it’s normally the other guys you want. Guess I’m proving everyone wrong.” Your expression flickered with something he couldn’t quite understand, but you were soon offering him a polite smile and finishing your number, dropping his hand again and tucking your pen back into your bag.
You stepped back from him, letting out a small sigh and glancing around everybody that was gathered around you, not-so-subtly listening in on the conversation. “Okay, well, text me. We can sort out details. I have to go, but we’ll chat soon?”
He nodded his head moving before he could control it, and he watched you walk away with a small grin on your lips. “For sure! I’ll text, soon! See you later!”
“See’ya, Dave.”
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The weeks between the day he’d asked you and going to the dance had been filled with texts at night and flirty smiles in the corridors, and Dave couldn't be more excited as he pulled on his suit. It was odd, he thought he’d clicked with Aubrey more than he’d ever click with anyone, and yet even from the simple things he’d managed to learn about you during your conversations, he felt more of a bond with you than he ever had with anyone else.
You were like an enigma, you were a little bit confusing and you often ran him in circles, but he liked trying to work you out, as if knowing you was the prize at the end of a challenging puzzle. He told you as much as he could about himself, wanting to share everything he could with you. He had felt awkward and slightly robotic in the way he went about his conversations with you, to begin with, simple texts to ask you how your day was and what you were up to, but soon enough it had resorted to one of you starting a conversation with you about anything. The jokes on the back of biscuit wrappers, something that had happened in his day, movies on the TV or even just to complain.
The two of you would sometimes even be found talking in the corridors, sharing laughs and jokes, and he found himself falling for you a little more with each passing day. He was all but buzzing with both nerves and excitement, brushing his open palms down and over his tux jacket, Stella tugging on his pants as she whined for attention, but he was too nervous and too busy to play barbies with her right now, and she just wanted him to do the deeper voices of the only male one she owned when he made his rare appearance at ‘the dreamhouse’.  
A flower in a box sat on the shelf under his mirror, his fingertips still a little sticky with the gel he’d used to style his hair, and so he didn’t want to touch the corsage yet and smear it with the substance. He’d planned or get ready early, his plan to pick you up at eight was not going to be ruined because he lost track of time in the shower and ended up being late. He had one chance, and he didn’t want to fuck it up. Now, though, it seemed he was ready a little too early, because he was stuck with a good thirty-minute wait before the earliest acceptable time to come and get you would roll around, and he had nothing else to fill his time with.
He was dressed, and ready. Clean and freshly styled and just enough of his special occasion aftershave spritzed on his skin to be alluring but no overwhelming.
Okay, maybe he had a little bit of time to play barbie dolls with Stella.
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With fingers tapping on the steering wheel, he peered up at the driveway to your house, watching as the clock ticked over onto 7 PM, and he let out the breath he was holding, letting the smile that had been pulling on his features finally come free, as he slipped his phone out of his pocket, a finger under his collar to tug it loose for a second as he pulled up the string of messages the two of you had been exchanging.
hey cutie. i’m outside.
The little speech bubble at the bottom of the screen danced for a few minutes, the nail of his thumb caught between his teeth as he waited for you to respond, but soon it just disappeared. He waited, and waited, and soon five minutes had passed and he was beginning to worry for what was happening, the thoughts that this all may just be an elaborate joke was slipping into his mind when your front door opened, closing only a second later as you came walking down the driveway with a smile on your face.
He hurried from his seat, rushing up to meet you with the corsage in his hands, and you paused upon seeing it, before your eyes were finding his, wide and wondering as you closed the gap between you until you were standing right in front of him.
“Is that for me?”
“Yeah! Yeah.. you said you were wearing a gold dress, and I couldn't find a gold flower, so I got a white one, but it does have a cute little tassel on it that matches the fringe-tassel thing you have going on and-” He cut himself off with a series of stutters and breath sighs when you kissed his cheek, your thumb coming up a second later to clear away the red lipstick print you’d left on his skin from the freshly applied coat that was still a little wet. “I could have come up and met you, at the door. Do you want me to meet your parents, o-”
“It’s good, Dave, really. Let’s just go have fun, okay?”
He swallowed, glancing between your gaze and the front door, before giving it up and nodding, cracking the box open to present you with the flower to put on your wrist. “Sure, I can’t wait.”
He held the door for you, held your hand as you stepped into the car, and made sure you were settled before he got in on his own side. He was determined to be the perfect gentleman. This was his one shot to prove to you how good the two of you could be together, and he wasn’t willing to mess it up. When he got into his own seat and clipped his safety belt in, you were fiddling with the dials on the dashboard and tinkering with the radio channels, switching over to the CD he had in, and his cheeks flared a little as you looked over the back of the CD case at the songs. “You mind if I pick the music?”
“Knock yourself out, babe, whatever you want.”
You nodded offering him a wide grin as he set the car off into motion, and he peeled away from the sidewalk outside your house to head toward the school. It was a short drive, but he couldn’t help but notice every little thing you did that only made you seem more like a regular person to him, and not like someone who was miles and miles out of his league, it made him feel calmer, like this wasn’t all just some big and elaborate prank that was the punchline of, but instead like he was here with a pretty date to have a great evening.
Your fingers tapped along on your leg in time with the tune, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you, and before he knew it, he was pulling up in the back of the somewhat crowded parking lot, trying to find a space that wasn’t too close to the crowds gathering around the doors, and you were brushing your dress down and stepping out the car, grinning as you looked between him and doors.
Shooting a quick text to Simon and Big-C to let them know that he was here, he tucked the device into his pocket, offering his arm to you and grinning when you accepted it. His friends met the pair of you at the door, and this was the nervous moment he’d been waiting for.
Simon was quiet for all of two seconds, before he was smirking widely and holding his hand out to introduce himself, the slew of comments neither of you would be able to avoid all night beginning to pour from him without hesitation; “Simon Daldry. You look absolutely ravishing tonight, far better than Aubrey ever did, you really traded up, Davie-boy.”
“Don’t call me that, and don’t talk about Aubrey.”
“No, Davie-boy, do spill. Who’s Aubrey?” You turned to him, a teasing look on your face and he sighed, raising his eyebrows at him, his eyes flicking down to your hands when he felt your fingers slide down his arm and lace with his, squeezing encouragingly. You were telling him that it was okay, that he didn’t have to share if he didn’t want to, but you were staring at him intently and still giving him that look that was giving him the confidence to be by your side all night, and so he caved.
Instead of voicing his history himself, though, he turned to give Simon a pointed look, and Big-C clapped him on the shoulder as the shortest boy all but vibrated with glee at the chance to tell you the story.
“Aubrey is our dear boy’s ex-girlfriend. She wasn’t very nice, we didn’t like her very much.” Dave dropped his head back with a groan as his friend took the chance to throw some insults into the conversation and he squeezed his hand around ours to draw back your attention, cutting Simon off as the boy took a breath to start off on yet another rant;
‘How about we go and get our picture taken, yeah? I’ve seen some of the photos on Snapchat already, and they're pretty good. They really went all out; neon signs, props like the strip attractions, there’s even a red carpet.”
“A red carpet? Well, how could we resist?”
He guided you along, your heels carrying you at closer to his height and your strides wider as you expertly balanced in the shoes, thanking him when he held the door open, your jaw dropping form the second you stepped inside with the small group. The bass was beating through the floors and the music was loud, even from the main entrance, the hall holding the dance still a small walk away, and anticipation filled his body.
He may or may not be a sucker for school dances.
The room was decorated with dice, cards, flashing banners and shiny decorations with bright lights. Black, red and white hung from all of the walls, and everything screamed Sin City extravagance, but had been toned down to high school appropriate. The usual red solo cups that were always brought in for the punch and drinks had been swapped out for plastic champagne and martini glasses, which definitely looked funny being filled with the non-alcoholic and red fruit-punch, but it was a fun thought nonetheless, and he was impressed by how quickly it had all come together, being that none of it had been up when they’d been ins school earlier that day.
The flashes of the camera set up in the corner snapped him out from his wonder, and he looked over to find you in much the same way, and he leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as you looked around. “Wanna’ take pictures?”
You nodded vehemently, the two of you making your way over to the setup, and bursting out with laughter at what you saw. Big-C was accompanying Simon, who had clearly manoeuvred him into a slightly less than formal dance photo pose. The pair of them were recreating the famous Titanic pose, the one of Jack and Rose at the front of the ship as she insisted that she was flying, and neither of you could contain your laughter as you watched on.
“Simon looks like he’s having the time of your life, but your other friend looks like he’d rather actually be on the ship as it sank.”
“Simon is insane, and I’m really not sure how Big-C put’s up with him.” He shrugged, allowing you to drag him into the queue for photos taken, the words you were running a mile a minute about different poses you could do were going in one ear and out of the other, because he didn’t care what pose you dragged him into, however formal or informal, because he was shocked by how seamlessly you were fitting into his friendship group, and how his friends had known you for less than ten minutes but already seemed to like you ten times more than they ever did his ex.
By the time your turn to take photos had come around, he hadn't heard a single one of your ideas for pictures to take, and simply let himself be guided by the photographer. He found himself standing behind you, hands sitting on your stomach as his arms wrapped around your waist, your own fingers lacing through his own. The first one was a formal shot, the sort of one his mother would have taken of the two of you had she met you, and he knew she’d love it when he presented it to her. In fact, she might actually frame it. He did look good tonight.
The second was a little more playful, his head was tipped up and chin balanced on the top of your head as he beamed at the camera, holding you a little tighter and pinching at your side, prompting your face to screw up and a laugh to bubble up from you as he did, and the final one featured him leaning around you, the tip of his nose brushing your skin as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. It was more you than him, his face was mostly obscured by his position and all that could be seen was his arms, legs and the top of his head, but he knew it would be his favourite simply based on the was your cheeks had been tinted red and your eyes glistening when he looked at you after hearing the ‘click’ of the camera taking the photo.
“They’re going to be cute photos.”
The pair of you were hurried off of the platform, and took your hand in his once again, the four of you walking along the halls, following the music as it got louder and louder, and he twisted his head to face you, a smirk on his lips and his eyes dragging along you, head to toe. “That’s because there’s a cute girl in them.”
“Dave, that was shocking. Appalling, actually. How the fuck did you get someone as out of you league as her to go out with you when you have lines like that?”
He felt his face blank into boredom as he looked over at Simon, but you simply laughed, pulling him through the open doors and telling him not to mind it, because you thought it was sweet, and your reassurance was enough to give him confidence on his statement one again. Bodies filled the room, some on the dance floor, some milling around the food tables, others sitting at tables and filling the seats.
Lifting your joined hands up, he spun you in a twirl, a surprised sound leaving you before you were giggling, his brows wiggling suggestively as he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “Let’s start with a dance, yeah?”
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You had danced, the two of you swirling around on the dance floor until your legs were aching and you were gasping for a drink. Some songs were upbeat, and these were the songs that the two of you busted out your best moves for, limbs flying in all directions as you cracked up with laughter upon watching the other move, and your hair flew around, pink coating both of your cheeks as the blood rushed underneath, heat flashing around you until you were slumped against one another and holding yourselves up, using your intertwined body for support as you gasped for breath and tried to calm your hearts as tears pushed at your eyes from laughing so much.
Then there were the slower songs, your cheek pressed to his shoulder, or your temple resting just below his as you leaned into him. His arms were around your waist, or his hands in yours, and your own fingers were looped around his shoulders, fingers in the shorter hair at the base of his neck and your nails scratching at the skin softly, lulling him into a feeling of peace so serene that his eyes were fluttering shut, his breathing levelling out, and he realised he could definitely get used to it. He liked being able to hold you so close, and being able to feel you pressed up to his chest, your lips almost brushing on the times you'd look up to talk to him and let your forehead press to his own as you mumbled quiet words of calm chatter between you both.
There were also the more sensual songs, the ones that had too much bass and sliding notes to be a slow song, and it was with those songs that Dave found himself suffering the most, his eyes closing and jaw dropping open, hands gripping your body tightly. Your body would roll into his, your ass pressed to him when you turned in his arms and your body swaying with his own, never stopping him when he dragged his hands over your body, never too much for the public eye but more than enough to get the two of you worked up, and you never flinched away when he began to pepper the bare skin of your shoulder with light kisses and the occasional flick of his tongue against your skin.
By the time the two of you had collapsed in your seats, you had thanked him with a kiss on his cheek when he brought you punch, and you’d pulled your chair up so close to his that your thighs were pressed together, your body facing his and elbow sitting on the back of his chair, fingers once again in his hair and playing with that sweet pattern that made his whole body sag with relaxation.
He’d leaned into you, barely getting a chance to enjoy the feeling of the quiet and intimate moment, the two of you feeling more like a couple than he had ever felt when he was with Aubrey. You simply enjoyed his presence, and you made him feel calm. He wasn’t nervous and sweaty and on edge when he was with you, the way she had made him feel was so entirely different that he couldn't even compare the two of you, because you were unique, nothing like anyone he’d ever met before.
Simon had soon interrupted you both, a deck of cards in his hands as he insisted that you played him in poker, and he pressed a kiss to the palm of your hand as you turned away to face him as he dealt up. The two of you were teamed up, and you had ended up in his lap, balanced across one of his legs as his chin popped on your shoulder, arms tightly around your waist to hold your back to his chest as you held the cards.
Not only had you won the game, but you’d done the whole thing while never once caving to Simon’s trash talk, meeting him with it and raising the stakes until him and Big-C were simply watching on as the two of you playfully slated one another, goading the other to break their poker face as you played, and Simon had even offered you a shake of his hand upon winning, and it was the most sportsmanly thing he’d ever seen his friend do. He was normally such a sore loser, but maybe that’s just because it was you that he’d lost to.
The feeling that he was waiting for the ball to drop, that there was something coming around the corner or a big joke waiting to be unveiled was gone, because you were so clearly enjoying yourself that it wasn’t possible to be able to fake that kind of joy. He was having one of the nights of his life, the flickering of the lights, the beat of the music in the floor, the taste of the fruit-punch hanging on his lips and the feel of you in his arms. You had managed to convince him into taking pictures, the two of you wandering around the room to take selfies with all the fun props and displays, wanting to truly capture the Vegas theme in all its flashy entirety.
His favourite one had to be the picture of you posing under a replication of the famous sign. ‘Welcome to the Fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada’ was sparkling above your head as you looked up at it, your hands held out on either side in a way that made it look like you were holding up the sign, in the same way that tourists took pictures that made it look like they were leaning on the Eiffel Tower or holding up the tower of Pisa. It was cheesy, and he loved it, because you were so carefree and happy in the shot.
Being with you made his social anxiety melt away, your own carefree attitude washed over him and it sunk into him, taking it on himself. The lingering gazes and whispers never bothered him, or made him wonder. He managed to let it all go, because his only focus was you.
As the night went on, the pair of you were getting warmer and warmer, fanning yourselves with your hands as the sweaty bodies in the room rose the heat up, and you had only hesitated for a moment when he offered you a walk outside, sighing with what he assumed to be relief, before nodding and lacing your fingers with his as he guided you back out into the cool night, the sky dark now and the stars twinkling overhead.
There were far fewer people now, a few boys lingering on the other side of the field, clouds of smoke rising up around them with no surprise as to what they were doing, but the car park was empty, and your hands swung between you both as you walked along in comfortable silence around the outskirts of the cars. It was halfway around when he finally pulled you to a stop, pushing down the butterflies that were going wild in his stomach, and raising a hand up to cup your cheek, thumb smoothing over your skin delicately.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? You’re absolutely stunning.” his words were breathed out on a sigh, and your lips flicked up at the corners.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Hodgman.” He tilted your chin up a little more, watching the way your eyes darkened, and his jaw dropped when he felt your fingers hook into his belt loops, and tug his body towards your own, hips pressing together. Swallowing thickly, he dragged his eyes back up to yours, taking a quick inhale of breath as his eyes got stuck on the way your plump lower lip was caught between your teeth, seductive in ways he couldn't even fathom. “Are you going to do what you’ve been wanting to do all night, or not?”
“Fuck, yeah, I am.” With that, his mouth was descending onto your own, heavy and wet as his wet lips meshed with your own. He could taste the lipstick you wore, and the slightly sticky fruit punch residue in your mouth, the flavour of which only increased when your lips parted for him and your tongue dipped out to find his own.
It was needy and hot, and raw in a way that made his head spin, and one of his hands came up to lace in your hair as he backed you up into the streetlamp only a few feet away, your back arching into him as your skin met the cold metal, and the sound you made in your shock went straight to his groin. It was sweet and low, a little groan that was crossed with a whimper, and your hips were rolling up into his.
His other hand slipped down and around your waist, past your lower back until he was taking a handful of your ass in his palm, squeezing roughly at the flesh and this time, you both let out moans at the feeling. Your bodies were flush now, the heat from inside was back, like a raging fire between your bodies as you rutted against one another, pulling back for gasping breaths before diving back into one another’s mouths once again. Your lipstick was smeared around your mouth and his own, your hair was messy from the pretty style it had been in at the beginning of the night, and you were a picture-perfect mess, the sort of sight he wanted or wake up to, or fall asleep by after a long night of holding you close to him and showing you how much you meant to him.
It wasn’t love, far from it, but the spark that he thought could turn into so much more had never been brighter, it had never felt this good, and he found himself sinking into your bliss with every rock of your bodies and every drag of your lips over his, every sweet noise to meet his ears or every moan he made that you muffled with your own mouth. It was getting heavy, and you showed no signs of stopping and he didn’t want to, but he also didn’t want to get caught with your legs around his waist as he fucked you against a metal pole, because the way you were now grinding down onto his thigh was very clear, and he was only seconds away from pulling down the spaghetti straps of your dress to see whether or not you actually had a bra on underneath your clothing.
“We should.. um.. move. Car? I think we should go to the car.” He barely managed to get his words out, but you were pushing him away from the post, hands tight in the collar of his suit jacket as you tore your lips from his, looking around for the vehicle, and his mouth descended to your neck, licking and kissing along your skin. You seemed to find it, because only a moment later you were pushing him in that direction, his feet moving underneath him and your hand rifling through his pockets for the keys, before his back was meeting cold metal this time, and he hissed out at the feeling.
He forced himself to remove his hand from your ass, fumbling for the handle when he heard the car sound it’s unlocking, and when he finally managed to wrench it open, he was quickly being pushed into the driver's seat, the keys tossed carelessly onto the dashboard and his hands reaching to push the chair back as far as it could go as your own reached for the lever to flatten the seat back.
Suddenly, he was laying down, the door slamming as you straddled him in the vehicle, hair framing his face as your lips met yours once again, and now he was able to get both hands on your ass, and had his mouth not been so deliciously otherwise occupied, he would have been smirking as he groped at the fleshy mounds in bliss. The windows were fogging up, the tent in his pants pressing to your clit each time he thrust his hips up to meet your movements, and his cock twitching in his pants with every squeaky moan you let out, and every breathy moan of his name that sounded out.
Pulling away for only a second, his lips were still pouted, but his jaw soon dropped open when you pushed away the straps of your dress, the flimsy material falling away to pool at your waist, you breasts on full display to him, bouncing as you rocked down into him, and nipples perky and pointed out for him, skin showing a thin layer of goosebumps with your arousal showing clearly.
His question had been answered; you were not wearing a bra. He fucking knew it.
Dragging his palms up and over your smooth skin, he cupped your tits in his hands, the rough pads of his thumbs teasing over your nipples, and an entirely new sound left you, one that had his gut twisting with desire, and a primal urge raring up within him. You pushed your chest up into his hands, your head falling back and your own hands finding his wrists, holding his touch on your body as you rode yourself down onto him, the two of you nearing you peaks, even with the layers of clothing between you, and it took every ounce of self-control he had to still your hips atop him.
“Baby, as much as I love what you’re doing, if you keep it up then I’ll cum and the fun will be over.” His voice was hoarse, even to himself, and you took a steady breath of your own, leaning down to place a softer and gentler kiss to his lips, pulling his bottom lip with your teeth when you shifted away from him.
“Better put the condom on and put that cock to use then, huh?”
His eyes widened, spluttering falling from him, before he shut himself up by snapping his jaw shut and nodding quickly, sitting up with you in his lap and searching for his wallet in his jacket pocket. While he was up, he took the opportunity to shove the material down his shoulders, discarding the blazer to the back seat and popping the button on the front of the leather pouch, rifling through and praying against all known gods that he had replaced the condom in his wallet, only barely managing to contain the cheer of joy he wanted to let out when he found it.
The cards and that note were of no concern to him, instead, he was dropping that to focus on the silver packet he was holding in his hands, a low groan slipping from him as he watched your own fingers dip under the black panties he was only now catching sight of, the digits disappearing from his vision. Your head fell forward a split second later, your foreheads pressing together as you whined his name under your breath, fucking yourself down onto your fingers to the thought of him, and he’d never gotten his belt and pants undone faster.
The car was steamy and hot, windows fogged over to block any sights from outside, and now it was just the two of you, in a bubble of your own making as you barrelled quickly towards the very activities that Dave had been dreaming about since he’d first caught sight of you in Freshman year.
Finally dragging his cock free from its confines, he grinned happily to himself, pumping his already hard cock a few times, before using his teeth to help him tear open the wrapper and roll the rubber down over his shaft.
“Holy fuck, you’re amazing. So fucking hot.”
You flashed your teeth at him in a wicked grin, your hand coming over to take control of his, your fingers slick with your own juices, and he hadn't realised just how wet you were, but now as you were pulling your panties to the side and lining him up with your core, he could feel the heat of your entrance as the tip of his covered cock dragged through your folds. He felt as though he was panting like a dog, drooling and clenching his fingers beside his body, before he was lifting them up to sit on your hips, taking control as you erased him by pulling you down in one swift movement.
You sunk all the way along him, both of your eyes rolling in your head and your body shaking above him as he became fully sheathed in your warmth, and he worried that he was gripping you so tightly it may bruise you. His thighs were clenched and his head was pressing back into the cushions of the reclined seat, letting out a shuddering breath as he tried not to explode just from the feeling of being buried in your dripping cunt.
“Oh my God, Dave!”
“I know.” His words were wheezed out, a playful look on your face as the two of you took your second to adjust, but that seemed to shatter as the look you shared darkened, and only a moment later you were rolling your hips down into him. It started out slow, a series of simple and steady movements that were almost mechanic, the rise and fall of your hips as you moved up and down along his cock, slowly as you grew used to the position and the movements you could make within the car.
Once you had grown comfortable, you were spicing up your actions, slamming yourself down onto him with quick and rapid movements, and then slowing it down to tease him, rolling the muscles in your stomach and clenching yourself so tightly around him that he almost choked on his own tongue, his eyes crossing and hips bucking up into you desperately. He couldn't take it, the way you would drag him to the edge only to let him come back down, but he loved it, because you were with him, riding him in his car after having an amazing night, and he couldn't get enough of the way it felt to be completely and utterly surrounded by you.
You were taking over his every sense, everything he has was given over in surrender, because he was barely holding on at all.
Your lips brushed his, and your movements became weaker, less coordinated and more frantic as you chased your own high as well as his. Taking one of his hands in your own shakily, you folded his fingers away until only two remained, and he watched through hooded eyes and you sucked his long fingers into your mouth with swollen lips, warm and wet just like your pussy, your cheeks tightening around his digits as you soaked them with your spit. Your tongue lapped around his fingers, dipping and weaving between the digits and dips with precision that would be haunting his mind and filling his wet dreams for weeks, as well as the permanently burned-in feeling of your warmth around his cock.
Dragging the slick digits down your body, you lifted up the edge of your skirt and pushed the pads of his fingers up to your swollen and neglected clit, and he took the hint, taking control of his limb again and picking up the pace. Pushing down roughly on the button, he traced his name in jerky and needy movements, a possessive act that he took pride in, rubbing his name on the nub and only making it as far as the ‘O’ on his last name before you were exploding around him.
Your eyes were rolling back in your head, nails digging into his chest through the dress shirt covering his chest, and he arched up into the touch, your orgasm spurring on his own. Your mouth pressed to his, lips working slowly and tongue seven slower, simply dragging over the top of one another’s and tangled together in sloppy patterns as you muffled the cried of each other’s names and moaned out curses, prolonging one another’s orgasms until it was all too much to handle.
When you finally peeled yourself off of his cock and collapsed down into the seat beside him, you had a lazy smile on your face, your body slumping into the passenger seat, and he forced his seat back up into a sitting position Peeling the condom off of his cock and tying it off, hiding it in a handful of tissues that were left on his dash, he placed it in the cupholder to dispose of later, and tucked himself back into his pants, his mind still spinning from the events and his thoughts still swimming with only you, in his post-orgasmic bliss.
He undid the tie around his neck, popping a few buttons on his shirt to allow himself to breathe, and once he knew you’d adjusted your dress and cover yourself back up again, he rolled down the windows to air out the heat in the car.
“So, you can just drop me off at home now, then.”
His head whipped around to look at you, only you weren’t looking at him, you were looking at yourself in the mirror and wiping at the lipstick around your mouth, cleaning your skin up and removing any trace of the kisses he’d left on you, and the sight of you doing so made him rub at his own mouth the back of his hand, wiping away the red smudges on his skin. “What are you talking about?”
“Now that we’re done, y’know? You got me, you got your notch on your belt or whatever, and this night really has been an absolute blast, but I would love nothing more than a nice hot bath and some pasta, now.” He was speechless, he really didn’t know what to say, because right now there was a bitter taste taking over his mouth as he thought about the night, storm clouds coming in as your words settled over him.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He knew he had all but spat the words at you, and he was angered by the audacity on your face to look shocked by the anger in his tone when you finally let your eyes meet his, a light shrug on your shoulders, before you picked up the keys and handed them to him, and he didn’t even look down at his palm as the cold metal met his skin. “Hey, don’t worry. I wanted to be here, I said yes to the dance and I initiated this. A lot of guys try it, want to sleep with me for the popularity boost or cool guy badge or whatever, and I think it’s dumb but you seemed so sad and nervous in the halls, and I figured, why not? You’re really cute, I like you.”
Rage swelled within him and he felt tears sting at his eyes as he let out a breathless laugh, before starting up the car and shaking his head, peeling out of the parking lot in silence. It wasn’t until the two of you had hit the main roads that he spoke over the dull playing of the radio once again. “What, so I was just a pity-fuck for you? Some kind of project, the whole night was a lie?”
“What? No!” Your hand landed on his bicep, but he shrugged you off, never even looking over at you as he flicked his way through the roads, nearing your house as he drove as quickly as the speed limits would possibly allow him to, not wanting to draw out the journey any longer than it needed to be. “I had fun tonight, I told you that!”
“You had fun on a date that I thought was real, and you thought was just something to fill the time with while you were bored?”
“I never said that!”
“Sure.” He sighed, flicking on his indicators as the two of you entered at the top end of your neighbourhood, and he heard you make a distressed little sound beside him, and even though it made his own body fill with sadness and regret, he was still angry, too angry to even consider letting those secondary emotions take over.
“Why don’t we just talk about this, I think mayb-”
“No. Why don’t we just finish this journey in silence, yeah?” He let his gaze flicker over to you for only a second, before he was looking back at the road, swallowing thickly to push down the way seeing you upset expression had made him feel. You did as he requested, and the rest of the ride was filled with tense and awkward silence, and neither of you spoke again until the car was coming to a halt outside of your house.
This time, he didn’t try to be a gentleman. He didn’t get out of his seat and open the door for you, and the evening routine he’d planned of walking you up to the door and hoping against all odds that maybe you’d kiss him was completely dashed, his newly fog-cleared mind full of regret for how fast things had advanced between the two of you, disappointment filling every nook and pore in his body.
You opened your own door, climbing from the car and walking away, the quiet click of your heels on the tiles was all that was heard, and he watched you go, eyes scanning up over you as you stopped in your place, turning and taking a breath as you prepared yourself to speak, but he cut you off before you got a chance; “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about tonight. Despite the impression you seem to have of me, I just wanted to go to a dance.”
Your face seemed to crumple in on yourself, your arms wrapping around your body, and he squeezed his hands on the steering wheel tighter, resisting the urge to rush from the car and pull you in close to him. “I-I..” Your voice cracked, like you were going to cry, and he felt his resolve crumbling, his fingers reaching for the handle of his door as you continued on, cleaning your throat. “I was just going to say thank you, I had a really great time with you, at the dance.”
He didn’t get a chance to speak, to ask you what had happened or why you’d ever thought of him like that, before you were turning on your heel, a near-run as you carried yourself up the driveway, slipping into your house and slamming the door shut. He didn’t have time to think about it or dwell on the thought because soon he was on the road, completely confused and a little bit heartbroken, and just wanting to curl up in his own bed.
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Dave was walking at his locker, swapping out the books for his next class and keeping his head low, ignoring all the congratulatory pats on the back and hoots or hollers he had been receiving. It seemed that being with you had been a real boost for his popularity, because guys that have always believed themselves to be too good to talk to him were now stopping him in the corridors to start up conversations, and girls who had never looked in his direction were now batting their eyelashes and waving their fingers flirtily.
He didn’t care for any of it, but Simon was eating it all up as you went along.
He had barely gotten his fingers out of the way of the door when it slammed shut, his body jumping backwards and eyes widening, before he was turning to look at you, his shoulders slumping even further and he removed his bag from his shoulders, distracting himself with packing his bag, waiting for you to shot, or yell, or publicly tear him down. Whatever it was that you needed.
“You said it wrong. You are terrible with words.”
“Excuse me?” A flicker of anger shot through him, and he zipped up his bag with more force than was needed, swinging it up onto one arm and letting it hang there, wiping a hand over his face to calm his feelings before he turned back to you. “I was never anything but polite to you.”
“I know. But when you first asked me out, you said nobody thought you could ‘get me’. You made me sound like a prize to be won, like a notch on your belt. Do you have any idea how many guys try to ‘get me’ just to prove that they can?”
He shuffled from foot to foot, glancing around at the few pairs of eyes that had landed on you all, before a sigh on his lips helped him from his next words. “I didn’t want that, I never did. I just wanted to go to the dance with you.”
“Do you like me?”
“What?”
“Do you like me? In a real way, not a popularity-boost, make it a game, prove to people who looked down on your way.” You were vulnerable as you looked up at him, eyes wide and expression flickering every so often as you tried to appear strong, and his head tipped to the side before he could stop it, a small smile on his lips as he let his eyes scan over you, before he was looping a couple of his fingers loosely with your own.
“I really do, for a while now, actually.” Heat crawled up his cheeks at the confession, but you were giving him a grin wider than the sun, holding onto his hand a little more tightly, weaving your fingers through his until your palms were pressed tightly to one another.
“Do you want to go on a date, then? A real date. Like, to a restaurant or mini-golf, or something.”
He used his other hands to tuck some loose hair behind your ear, risking taking a step closer to you, until you were forced or look up at him as he stepped into your space, only having to whisper as he spoke to you now, the conversation only for the two of you to hear. “I would love that.”
“Okay. Cool.”
“Cool.” His own smile finally matched your own, feeling his heartbeat steadily in his chest as you seemed to relax before him, your defensive stance slipping away, and for a second, you weren’t the popular girl that had always seemed out of his league and too scary to talk to, but right now you were just the pretty girl that he had a connection with like no other. “Can I kiss you in front of other people?”
“I’d really like it if you did.”
His other hand settled itself over your cheek, pulling your lips up to meet his so that he could press his mouth to yours in a sweet connection. It was nothing like the previous night had been. Last night was rushed and sloppy and just a preemptive action towards what the night had become. There was no ulterior motive or further action to be taken now, though. Instead, it was simply a brush of lips, it was the only thing either of you needed, it was an act of reassurance in order to make sure the spark between you wasn’t being ignored.
Your other hand threaded into his hair, your body pressing to his as you pushed up on your tiptoes, being sure he wasn’t pulling away or moving from you, and he let his arm drop to wrap around your waist to support you, to keep your body pressed flush to his your thumbs played together and smoothed over one another’s knuckles with the hands that were still connected. Your lips teased his, the occasional flick of a tongue through the smiles but never enough to go any further, and you were refusing to pull away, until the burn for oxygen was just too much to ignore.
Your forehead pressed or his, a satisfied and happy noise sounding in the back of your throat as you bumped your nose against his, and he let out a breathless laugh, bumping his nose against yours in return, a grin forming on your lips at the gesture. When you finally sunk back down to your height and were no longer balancing on your tiptoes, he was able to press a kiss to your forehead, before your hand was pulling from his to loop around his waist, letting you snuggle into his chest and rest your cheek on his shoulder.
“I really like you, Dave Hodgman.’
“I really like you, too.”
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h3rmitsunited · 3 years
Text
The Heart Line
Dirk learns palm reading...sort of... and Todd can totally deal with it... sort of. (Disclaimer: the author (me) knows nothing about palm reading so forgive the errors...it’s totally intentional...)
Todd couldn’t really remember when the joke started. Some case months ago, an offhand comment Amanda had picked up on when visiting for a few days that just stuck, and turned into Dirk pretending to get hunches off the lines of his palm.
It turned into, “Todd!” He rubs his fingers over his hand. “My hand lines say it’s over here!” and “I don’t think my dinner line thinks that Chinese is good for dinner tonight. It says pizza is a better idea,” and Amanda’s favorite, “the lines are saying Todd is being a grumpy party pooper right now.” And Amanda loved it, and she knew how much Dirk loved using it to mess with Todd, so she played it up every time she came around, which Todd… just… loved.
Which led to Dirk’s birthday, Amanda grinning as Dirk ripped the wrapping paper off the rectangular present, and breaking into a fit of laughter as he revealed it to the rest of the party. In bold black letters, Palm Reading For Dummies. Dirk gave Todd a pointed and amused look, which Todd responded to with a dramatic eye roll. He didn’t open the book immediately, but after a while, after they had finished opening the rest of his gifts and ate too much pizza, Amanda tossed the book into Dirk’s lap and held her hands out.
“Alright, Mr. Dirk Gently Palm Detective, let’s see what you got.” Dirk sputtered a moment before the curious glint sparkled in his eyes and he cracked open the pages. Amanda’s took a while to read as he tried to figure out the book, but Amanda sat quietly smiling as Dirk flipped through the pages and ran his fingers all over her hands. She ended up quite satisfied with his (mostly embellished) report on her future. Todd, on the other hand (pun intended), was suspicious that any of Dirk’s predictions were actually things that he learned to read from that book, particularly because he was pretty sure palm reading wasn’t specific enough to tell you that you’re going to adopt a hedgehog, or find a box of jeans under a bridge in three weeks. As soon as he finished reading Amanda’s palms, the rest of the Rowdy Three, apart from Martin, leapt up, racing towards Dirk and thrusting their hands out in front of him, and excitedly yelling questions about the free clothes they would fine. Dirk flinched back, an instinct from their more… vampiry days, despite not having been their meal for a while now, but then relaxed again, his soft smile returning.
“Okay, okay, wait your turns,” Dirk said with a chiding laugh. Todd watched as he took Vogel’s hands in his. His ears seemed to tune out Dirk’s words, his attention preferring to focus on the careful ministrations of Dirk’s slender fingers, the way his fingertips brushed gently over their skin, the delicate way he leaned over the book and flipped through the pages, his forehead wrinkling as he lost himself in his swirling thoughts. It was one of Todd’s favorite Dirk looks. Todd tried to ignore the pit in his chest, the desperate hunger that was spiking in his stomach at the sight of Dirk giving his touches away so freely. Dirk glanced over, catching Todd’s yearning stare. He smiled and the edges of his eyes crinkled and Todd lost his train of thought, blushing and smiling back. Bea (the rainbow monster from Wendimoor, who was sort of domesticated now), laid across the back of the couch directly behind Dirk, her head resting on the top of the cushions as she watched Dirk continued to talk over Cross’ hands, attempting to explain what the head line means. Todd laughed under his breath as Dirk’s predictions became simpler and simpler as he went through the rest of the Rowdy Three. He got to Bea who was happy just to have her “bibbit” hold her hands, and her palm reading was a very simple, “you’re going to get a cookie,” and he handed her a cookie off the tray on the coffee table, which she snatched away and hopped off the couch to rejoin the rest of the Rowdies on the floor.
“Alright, anyone else?” Dirk said looking up, straight over at Todd’s now empty seat. He frowned, noticing Todd through the doorway to the kitchen, washing up a couple dishes. Tina hopped up from the floor, slightly giggly and curled up on the couch next to Dirk.
“Me, me, me!” She said holding out her hands. “Where should I put my feet?” Dirk’s eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head.
“Um, it doesn’t matter, Tina. I just need your hands.” Tina nodded seriously.
“Alright, I’ll put them on the floor.” Dirk smiled, raising an eyebrow up, and shook his head again, taking Tina’s hand in his just as Todd walked back out of the kitchen. Dirk noticed he seemed distracted, his eyes pointedly not looking over at him, and wondered if he may have done something wrong. Dirk shook his head, fighting the instinct to blame himself for everything, and resolving to ask Todd about it later instead. He returned his focus to Tina, and on reading the lines on Tina’s hands. When he finished, Tina shoved Farah over, then Sherlock; Amanda convinced Martin (and if Dirk’s hands shook a little more than usual reading the intimidating Rowdy leader’s hands, nobody mentioned it; and even Mona popped up near the end of the party for her palm reading, though she was shaped as an orangutan, so Dirk isn’t really sure if they use the same book. She seemed happy with her reading in any case, and shifted into a small black cat before wandering out of sight. He finished her reading, and sighed, dropping his head back into the couch cushions.
“That’s it, right? I think I might be all hand readed out.” He flopped the paperback book onto the coffee table and yawned. Half the Rowdies were asleep curled together on the floor, Farah yawned from the other end of the couch, batting away Tina’s wandering hands from where she was pestering her on the floor, and Sherlock was fighting heavy eyelids from where he sat in the armchair. But someone was missing. Dirk looked around the room, peering through the doorway to the dark kitchen.
“Where’d Todd get off to?” Dirk asked, trying to sound casual. He didn’t really like when Todd went off by himself, he knew he was mostly okay, usually, but Todd’s stories about Amanda’s attacks had gotten him a bit paranoid about him drowning in the bathroom without Dirk noticing.
“Probably went to the bathroom,” Amanda said with a yawn from the pile of cuddled Rowdy bodies on the floor. She pushed herself up, smacking their shoulders, and waking up the dozing leather clad men. “Well, you’ll have to let us know if he has any weird stuff too, especially anything I can tease him about-“she winked- “We gotta get going, early morning tomorrow.” Dirk smiled and nodded, pulling Amanda into a hug.
“I’m glad you were able to make it.” Amanda waved a hand and punched his shoulder, smiling.
“Of course, dude. It’s your birthday. It needed to be celebrated.” She gave him a pointed look. “And listen, we love you. You ever need a break from my brother, you let me know. That road trip invite doesn’t expire.” Dirk smiled sincerely, pulling Amanda into another quick hug which turned into a dogpile of slightly smelly, leather clad Rowdy bodies surrounding him.
“You’re British, but you’re Drummer’s friend so we like you!” Cross shouted way too loud right in Dirk’s ear.
“It’s your birthday!” Vogel added from somewhere underneath them.
“Alright, let’s go boys.” Martin slapped Dirk across the back, breaking up the hugging and started walking to the door, the rest following after him. Todd walked out of the hallway from the bathroom as they reached the door. Amanda gave him a look before she rolled her eyes and pulled him into a hug.
“See you, loser.” Todd laughed, and pulled her tighter.
“Love you too. Be careful… or whatever.” Amanda broke apart from him and gave him a finger gun before following the Rowdies out the door.
“We’re gonna head out too. Long drive back to Bergsberg tomorrow.” Sherlock said, helping Tina up from the floor. Tina grappled Dirk into a tight hug…or tackle… and they both hugged him and told him another happy birthday before heading to the door too, giving Todd a pat on the back as they walked past.
“I’m going to walk them out. I’ll see you at the office tomorrow?” Farah pointed at Todd, who nodded reluctantly. “Good. Okay. Happy birthday, Dirk.” She pursed her lips and then gave Dirk an awkward side hug, nod, and pat on the shoulder. Dirk smiled. Todd shut the door behind her as she left, and the apartment was suddenly very quiet. Todd walked back over to the couch dropping down onto the cushions with a big, tired sigh. Dirk followed suit, dropping down, leaving just a few inches between their legs. Dirk glanced around the room.
“Did you see where Mona disappeared to?” Todd sighed and shrugged.
“I’m pretty sure I saw a black cat sneaking into your room again. I’d guess she’s hiding under your blanket again,” Todd said and raised his eyebrows. Dirk smiled and laughed under his breath.
“Thanks for the warning. Don’t need anymore surprised Mona cat scratches.” Todd huffed a laugh in response, but didn’t say anything. Dirk studied his face for a moment before reaching out and grabbing his hands. Todd jerked back slightly, but didn’t pull his hands out of his loose grip.
“Wha-“
“I never got to do yours. You kept disappearing all night.” Todd shrugged, watching as Dirk grabbed the book off the coffee table, one hand still wrapped around Todd’s palm.
“I wasn’t disappearing. I just needed the bathroom,” Todd knew he sounded less casual than he hoped, and he knew Dirk noticed, but he hoped that maybe Dirk wouldn’t-
“Is something going on? You’re acting weird.” Todd laughed. Mostly at the fact that Dirk could sometimes be so completely oblivious and yet at other times way too perceptive. Dirk frowned. “It wasn’t… I didn’t do any-“ Todd quickly shook his head.
“No. You didn’t do anything. I’m fine.” Dirk raised his eyebrows. “I promise, I’m fine. Just a little tired. Read my hands and it’ll tell you how fine I am.” Todd shook his head quickly. “I don’t mean like how fine I am as in like… attractive, just… like I am… okay. Mostly.” Dirk smiled and his eyebrows quirked upwards, amused.
“Okay, you weirdo, I don’t think that’s how this works, but I’ll see if there’s a line for that.” He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners again, and sighed. His fingers started to brush softly over Todd’s hands, running over the creases in his palms. Todd had to keep from gasping, and he wondered with fear if Dirk could feel the way his pulse had jumped in his veins when his fingers had started moving. Dirk’s smile faded into something… something else. Focused and intense. His thumbs caressed across the crease across from Todd’s thumb.
“This one is the lifeline. The book says it’s not great for beginners to talk about this one too much. Don’t want you thinking you’re going to die soon or something.” Dirk leaned forward and Todd could feel the heat of his breath wafting over his palm. Dirk’s index finger traced the line again sending tingling pulses through Todd’s nerves. He twitched and Dirk looked up at him in surprise and apology.
“Sorry, it’s a little ticklish,” Todd said, slightly breathless. He hoped he wasn’t blushing. Dirk just smiled and turned back to his hand.
“It looks pretty long to me, so I think you’re probably alright.” He moved his fingers slightly over to the crease next to the life line, skittering so lightly, like the feet of a butterfly, that Todd suspected he was doing it just to torture him.
“What’s that one?” Dirk ran his finger down the line, and Todd’s breath hitched in his throat.
“The fate line,” Dirk responded huskily, and turned his head towards Todd, looking up at him through his eyelashes. “It looks like it’s pretty deep, means that your life is currently greatly influenced by external circumstances.” Todd smiled and rolled his eyes.
“Hmm. Imagine that.” Dirk smiled and passed over to the next line, a smaller crease at the edge of his palm.
“This one is called the sun line. It’s supposed to indicate your public image, your legacy and fame.” Todd pulled his hand closer to his face, nearly dragging Dirk with it. He gasped in surprise and looked up at Todd.
“Oh, does it say the Mexican Funeral is getting back together? I knew we were going to make it big someday,” Todd said jokingly, trying to cut some of tension in the air. Dirk rolled his eyes and pulled Todd’s hand back to where it was, laughing and sending another wave of warm air over Todd’s hand. His fingers rubbed across Todd’s palm absently.
“I don’t know about that, but I think it’s a good one. You’ll probably be successful… in something.” Todd barked out a laugh.
“Wow! Thanks for the confidence.” Dirk sat back up and shook his head grinning.
“You wanted me to read your palms, I’m just saying what I see.” Todd’s forehead wrinkled and he cocked his head.
“Did I? I seem to remember you grabbing my hands without me asking.” Dirk raised an eyebrow and shrugged. He dramatically dropped Todd’s hand letting it fall to the couch cushion. Todd winced at the loss of Dirk’s fingers on his hand.
“Okay, fine.” He said and turned toward the television. “I don’t have to read it.” Dirk sat quietly, his eyes flicking over at Todd periodically until Todd sighed and rolled his eyes, holding his hand out again.
“Okay. Dirk, would you please finish reading my palm.” Dirk glanced over at him, hesitating before he smiled and nodded.
“Well, if you insist.” Todd rolled his eyes, but smiled softly.
“What’s the next line?” Dirk pressed over a longer line that crossed diagonally near the top of Todd’s palm. He followed the waves of the line, and then looked up at Todd.
“This one is called the head line. It’s supposed to show your intellect, and the pursuits that you learn about. Yours seems pretty long, which means you learn about a lot of different things-“
“Sure, I mean last week I had to become an expert in rat care, and the week before we were investigating corruption at the YMCA. I’d say I learn about a lot of things…” Todd raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes.
“AND,” he cut back in, emphasizing Todd’s interruption, “the depth mean how deeply you learn about things, and it looks… not that deep…” Dirk said and smiled up at Todd, who frowned and shrugged.
“Sure, well, I mean I have Google, I don’t need to be an expert in things.” Dirk shook his head mockingly, and patted Todd’s hand.
“No, of course you don’t,” he said in a condescending tone. Todd pulled at his hand, still caught in Dirk’s grip.
“Great, are we finished? Was that the last one?” Dirk held tighter.
“Not quite, there’s one more.” Dirk looked up at Todd, the mocking expression now replaced with that same intense look from before. “The heart line.” Todd felt his chest tighten, now worried about what his traitorous hands might be able to tell Dirk. If he could somehow read what he had been feeling. That’s stupid though because this is all fake nonsense… but he also thought Dirk was fake nonsense, so… He fought against his rapidly beating heart and watched as Dirk studied carefully over the lines on his palm. His eyebrows furrowed together creating little rippled wrinkles on his forehead. After what seemed like forever, Dirk sat up and sighed, looking conflicted and nervous. He nodded. Todd raised his eyebrows.
“And? What did it say?”
“Nothing?”
“It says nothing?” Todd held up his hand, staring at the mess of lines and wondering what Dirk saw that made him say that. Dirk pulled his hand down away from his face and shrugged.
“I don’t know. It’s all nonsense, you know? Maybe you’ll live happily ever after, maybe you won’t. I don’t know what it means.” Todd frowned, studying the strange look on Dirk’s face.
“I don’t understand. You read everyone else tonight, all those other lines on my hand… why…” He didn’t want to read into anything. Dirk did weird things for Dirk reasons, not because… “Why not this line?” Dirk frowned and shrugged. Todd could see a soft pink flush rising on his cheeks, and the tightness in his chest seemed to return again, but for a new reason. A more hopeful reason. Todd fought back a smile.
“It doesn’t matter.” Dirk started to stand up to leave the room, but Todd grabbed his hand. Dirk looked at him confused, and almost scared, but he sat back down.
“I think it’s because you’re just not as good as me at reading palms,” Todd smiled, enjoying the feeling of running his hands over Dirk’s palms, the feeling of Dirk’s hand’s twitching slightly under his delicate touches.
“What are you talking about?” Todd shushed him and smiled.
“My turn.” He ran over the first line on Dirk’s hand. “The life line. Easy, you’re going to have a long and happy life. Boom. Done. Next,” he passed across to the next line. “The fate line, you’re going to have good things happen to you even though it gets crazy sometimes. Boom, next. Whatever this line was, I don’t remember, don’t tell me, but it means, you’re amazing and do good things, boom. Next, the… uh…” Dirk pointed down at the book on the couch, and Todd quickly read the line upside down. “Head line, yes, I remembered that myself, thanks. This one says you’re very smart and capable about a lot of things.” Dirk was smiling now, his face much pinker than before, watching Todd raptly, wondering what was coming next. Todd paused, his breath catching, as his fingers crossed over the last line.
“Todd? What about… what about the last one? What about the heart line?” Dirk’s voice was nervous, and hesitant. His hand started to pull away at Todd’s silence. Todd squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath for just a second.
Todd dropped Dirk’s hand, quickly moving his hand to Dirk’s cheek and stroking over the soft blush that colored his face. Dirk’s surprised expression softened and the crinkles returned to the edges of his eyes, which Todd took as permission. They both leaned forward, synchronized with each other’s movements and their lips met in the center, as gentle and delicate as their fingers had been passing over each other palms. The softness gave way, replaced with the reverent exploration of each other’s lips, a hesitant brush of tongue, hands joining to touch skin and hair and, then they pulled apart, breathless and smiling. Dirk swallowed thickly, and Todd smoothed the mussed hair sticking up on top of his head.
“So, uh,” Dirk started still catching his breath. “What did it say?” Todd grinned leaning in again, only to stop just an inch away from Dirk’s lips.
“I can repeat myself, if you’d like?” Todd said, his words wafting over Dirk’s mouth. Dirk smiled.
“Oh, yes, please,” he said moving in the last inch. As they kissed, Todd slipped his hand into Dirk’s smiling into Dirk’s lips as his fingers started to move softly over Todd’s palm, tickling over his skin. He decided he didn’t mind the palm reading so much after all.
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suchdan-veryphil · 3 years
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A Whole Ass Baby? - Jack Barakat Imagine
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Anonymous said:
How about a Jack Barakat headcannon/whatever you wanna write about you two finding out that you’re gonna have a kid? I need more Jack content tbh 
Word Count: 2,367
Trigger Warnings: Swearing, getting sick, sex mention, menstruation mentioned, doctors
A/N: 
This is the second time I put something back in my drafts instead of posting it when I was done. And this is now the second time I was sad that a post wasn’t getting notes when it was never posted. I will do better. This took forever, but here it is. I love Jack Bassam Barakat. I love writing Jack Barakat. I am HERE FOR THIS
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It had been three weeks since I started feeling nauseous. I would just be sitting down and be hit with a sudden wave of nausea, like I was on a boat for too long. I could still eat, I could still drink, I could still shake my ass to Mr. Brightside but if I sat for too long I would just be hit with the feeling that it was time to vom. 
Then two weeks ago, I was fine. The nausea was gone, the world was bright again.
Then about two days ago, it hit me again. I couldn’t eat anything that wasn’t toast, crackers, a banana, or water (although the water was a hit or miss). Too much of anything caused me to be violently sick, and unfortunately for me, “too much” of most things meant one bite. Otherwise, I felt fine. No aches and pains, no headache, no fever. I wasn’t thinking too much about it, though, mostly for those reasons. 
Meanwhile, Jack was pounding back cake, pizza, ribs, wings, margs, and everything in between four or five times a day without a second thought. I was honestly jealous. 
We were sitting on our sofa, watching The Office. I was laying on two of the cushions and he was sitting on the third, resting his elbow on my knees. I watched as he popped three pizza rolls into his mouth at once and started chewing rather loudly. In response, I groaned and pushed his shoulder with the pad of my foot. 
“Do you have to enjoy the good food in the house when I’m sick?” 
He started to reply, but I couldn’t understand him with all of that food in his mouth. It was a low grumble, and he was starting to drool a pizza stained slobber the more he attempted to speak.
“What?! I can’t understand you,” I chuckled a little and sat up before wiping his nasty spit out of his beard. He chewed the food and quickly swallowed before answering. 
“I said, if I don’t eat it then nobody will and that’s a shame. Besides, I still think you should go to the doctor.” He popped another roll in his mouth and looked over at me. 
“I disagree. My stomach has just been off. I have literally zero other symptoms.” 
“You haven’t eaten in like a week. You need to go to the doctor.” Jack raised his eyebrows at me and stared intently. He was probably right, but I hated the doctors and he knew this. 
“If I don’t feel better by Sunday, I’ll go to the doctor. Okay? Just two days.” 
We just stared at each other, both of us begging the other to give in silently. I leaned in and did my best to pout my lip without it being obvious. 
I could tell the second that he went to inhale deeply through his nose that I had won. 
“Thank you,” I leaned over and kissed his cheek gently. 
“I didn’t even say anything!” 
“You didn’t have to.” I kissed his cheek once more, getting a whif of his greasy lunch. It hit my stomach instantly, bringing me to my feet and to the bathroom to empty whatever small contents that were left. 
That was definitely the universe giving me some sort of karma. 
I could feel his hands rubbing my back as I leaned over the toilet and waited to see if anything else was going to invite itself up. 
With a deep breath, I grabbed some toilet paper and wiped my mouth before flushing and sitting on the cold tile. 
“Do you feel better?” Jack continued to rub my back. I took a second to listen to my body, and also to get reoriented. After a moment, I nodded my head and pressed my palms against the floor to push myself off of the ground. I was only a few inches off the ground when I started to feel dizzy and fell back into Jack’s arms. I closed my eyes and put my hand up to my forehead. 
“Ok, let’s go to the doctor.” I leaned against the sink counter and collected myself before I began to brush my teeth. 
I could see Jack’s face become instantly relieved through the mirror as I spoke.
“I’ll get the keys.” 
Within the minute, we were getting into the car and buckling up. Jack reached over as we stopped at a light and pressed the back of his hand to my forehead. 
“Well you don’t have a fever.” His hands dropped to hold mine, fingers interlaced. 
“I know, that’s why I really didn’t want to go anywhere. I’ve had stomach aches before,” I sighed and rubbed circles along his hand with my thumb. 
Jack nodded and focused on driving. “I know. I know,” 
It wasn’t long before we were in the waiting room of my doctor’s office. I was busy concentrating on not getting sick in front of the other patients waiting to be seen and Jack took out his phone to play a game. 
I stared at his phone screen as he made switched pieces of candy to watch them pop. I concentrated so hard on the screen that I didn’t hear when they called my name. 
“Hey, that’s you.” Jack locked his phone and elbowed my arm as I came to. 
“Oh. Oh, I’m coming. Sorry.” I turned and handed Jack my bag. “Can you hold this?” He just nodded and slung it over his shoulder casually and continued to scroll through his phone.  
I followed the RN into the examination room and sat on the chair with the noisy white paper on it. “So, Y/N, what brings you in today?” 
I sighed and sat back on the chair, making the paper rustle. “Well, I haven’t been feeling well for the last couple of weeks. I have bad nausea, I can’t keep anything down. Today, my boyfriend was eating a pizza roll and just the smell made me sick. I got really light headed in the bathroom after getting sick. I don’t have a fever or anything, but Jack, my partner, is set on me getting seen so... here we are.” 
I let out a breath and watched as the nurse processed everything. “Are you on any medication? Any change in your diet or exercise routine?” 
“Nope, I’m still not on anything and I still don’t diet or exercise.” We both chuckled at my little joke before she nodded and started to take my temp and my blood pressure. 
“Sexually active?” She asked, releasing the air from my arm band. 
I nodded my head and watched as she removed the band. “Yes indeed.” 
“Do you use contraceptives?” 
“We do.” 
“When was your last menstrual cycle?” 
“Um,” I paused and thought back to when the last time I got my period was. I couldn’t remember, which was probably not the best sign. 
“I’d like to give you a pregnancy test to rule it out before the doctor goes and prescribes you something, if that’s alright.” She opened a cabinet and began to reach for whatever she was grabbing as I answered. 
“Yea, that’s fine.” I could feel my palms begin to get sweaty as I thought of the possibility that I was pregnant. Me? A mom? I couldn’t imagine it. I slept until almost noon most days and ate mac and cheese for most meals. There was no way I could be a mom. 
Jack as a dad, though, that was something I could see. He was always ready to take care of others and make someone laugh. Jack was someone who had a lot of patience, was goal-driven, and just made everyone happy. I tried to imagine what it would be like if he had a tiny baby to love and care for, but I was pulled back by the nurse who handed me a cup. 
“Here you go, just pee in this and leave it on the shelf over the sink with your birthday written on it. You can come back in here when you’re done and we’ll let you know what we get and take it from there.” 
I took the small plastic container in my hands and sighed as I looked at it. Getting up from the seat, I couldn’t help but notice my cheeks started to hurt. I could not stop smiling, just imagining that Jack and I could possibly be having a baby. 
Once I reached the bathroom, I followed the nurse’s instructions step-by-step and washed my hands thoroughly. All I could think was “I should have drank more water today” and “Jack and I might be parents”. 
Sitting back on the seat, I bit my lip and rested my head back in the headrest. Jack had no idea what was going on in this room. He was just sitting in the waiting room with my purse over his shoulder, playing Candy Crush or scrolling through TikTok. 
I could feel another wave of nausea hit and I silently prayed to whatever higher power would listen that I would not throw up in this office. All of my energy went into holding in whatever it was that was threatening its way up. To my demise, I was quickly pulled to my feet and hunched over a garbage can to hurl. Between heaves, I heard the door open and close before being met with the voice of my nurse. 
“Well, I think we know why you’re getting so sick.” The water turned on and I soon saw a cup of water in my line of vision along with a tissue. I took both gratefully once I knew I was done before wiping my mouth and drinking the water. I threw the cup and tissue in the trash before sitting and apologizing. 
“I can take that out with me, I’m so sorry. Thank you.” I was rambling at this point, feeling just embarrassed that she had walked in on that. 
“Don’t worry about that. Grosser things have happened here, trust me. We’ll get it taken out once you leave. Now, I have news that could be either really good or really bad depending on how you take it but know that there are options from here.” 
Somehow, this only confused me so I just nodded in hopes that she would get to it. 
“You’re pregnant. This would explain the sickness, the lack of appetite, the lack of fever, and the lack of a period.” 
My heart started to race and I could hear it pumping in my ears. “Wow.” 
It was all I could muster before I looked at her and smiled a little. “Can... can we go get Jack?” 
“Of course! I’ll go get him, I just didn’t want to tell you in front of him just in case.” She smiled back at me and left the room for a minute before returning with Jack, who was still holding my purse over his shoulder. I couldn’t help but chuckle as I saw him looking so non-chalant with it. 
“Hey you. Is everything okay?” He reached out his hand to grab mine before squeezing gently and looking at the nurse and then back at me. 
“Yea, everything’s fine.” I smiled widely at him and bit my lip before looking at the nurse. 
“Well we figured out why Y/N has been getting so sick.” The nurse started before she looked at me. I nodded and held back my tears as she continued. “She’s pregnant.” 
Jack was silent for a second before he looked down at me. “Wait. What?” He smiled widely and dropped my bag to the ground before taking my other hand and squeezing them tightly. 
All I could do was nod. 
“A baby?” He asked and tilted his head, much like a dog would when confused. 
I chuckled and nodded my head. “A baby, Jack.” 
I was barely finished with my sentence before he leaned down and wrapped me up in his arms tightly. 
“Oh my god. A whole ass baby. A kid. A child.” he rubbed my back over a few times before leaning back and holding my face in his hands. 
“So you’re happy?” I asked and smiled widely, reflecting his. Jack let out a quick, “ha” before leaning in and kissing me deeply. 
Once we separated, he bit his lower lip and glanced down at my stomach. “How far along are you?” 
I shrugged, and the nurse chimed in momentarily. “By the looks of your period chart, it would look like you’re about 7 weeks along. I’ll give you guys a few minutes, but when you’re ready you can go to the front and make an appointment with us for within the next few weeks and we can follow up.” 
“Thank you.” was all Jack or I could muster as she excused herself. He looked down at me and dropped his jaw. 
“A whole baby!” 
I laughed and nodded. “Yes! A whole ass baby! Growing in here!” I poked my stomach and chuckled before I bit my lower lip to contain the smile. 
“So you bothered me and pestered me about condom usage and we ended up getting knocked up anyways.” Jack commented. I gently and playfully pushed his shoulder and shook my head. 
“Oh shut up, Barakat. Looks like that wine room is getting turned into a nursery.” 
“Says you. I was thinking your office would be comfier.” 
I laughed a little and shook my head. “Yes, because we need a wine clubhouse AND a wine closet. Sorry, how dare I?” 
With a smile, Jack helped me up to my feet and held my hand. With his free hand, he picked up my bag and handed it to me. 
“I’m carrying a child and you want me to carry my bag too?” I teased as I reached for it. Quickly, he pulled it back and slung it over his shoulder again. 
“Fine, I look better with it anyways. It’s definitely not your color,” he said and lead the way to the front reception area. 
The way my heart swelled with love and joy told me that I was on a very eventful and joyous journey with my boyfriend and our growing family. 
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jalapeno-princess · 4 years
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Back to You
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Mark Tuan X Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Exes to lovers
Warnings: insecurities, self doubt
Summary: You had broken up with Mark over four months ago for reasons still unknown to him and as much as he tries to move on, he knows there’s just no getting over you.
Word Count: 4.2k
“You have halo? Cool! I love halo.” Mark hummed softly in response as he motioned for the younger girl to sit down.
“Would you like to play for a little bit? I actually haven’t touched that game in months. I’ll go find us something to snack on while you get it set up.” She beamed up at him while he made his way towards the kitchen.
He began to search through his cupboard for some ramen when he heard his name being called. “Everything okay?” When Mark saw the look of curiosity on her face, he grew confused until he looked at the tv.
“Whose princess? Is it okay if I use her profile? Or should I use yours?” Mark felt his stomach drop. There was a reason why he hadn’t played that game in a while and there it was, like a slap in the face by reality that you were no longer in his life. The two of you broke up over four months ago and as much as he wanted to say the break up was mutual, it was you who decided that you both should go your separate ways. Although it’s been a while and he knew he should’ve been moved on by now, he was still so madly in love with you and holding on to a tiny bit of hope that you would find your way back to him one day.
“Oh, um—you can play on mine.” Alyssa was a very sweet girl. Mark’s friends were tired of him moping around and staying home all the time because he didn’t have the energy nor motivation to go out since you left; so Jinyoung forced him to go on a date and set him up with one of his coworkers. As much as Mark didn’t feel like getting in to a relationship just yet, he felt as if this was the only way he could get over you completely; even if God knows he never wanted to. Ever.
This was the third date they have been on since they were introduced to each other almost a month ago and honestly Mark wasn’t feeling it. She was smart; graduated from college with her bachelor’s degree in political science. She was also very soft spoken and kind, always asked Mark how his day was and gave him her full attention whenever he spoke—if he ever spoke. No matter how nice she was and how obvious she made it that she was developing feelings for him, she wasn’t you.
Nobody could ever take your place in Mark’s life. He was sure of it. Nobody could fill the hole in his chest or patch up his broken heart that you caused when you left him. His mind was now clouded with thoughts of you as he started to cook the ramen and he could feel himself tearing up.
When Mark felt that the bed was now more vacant, and your side of the bed was cold, he stifled back a yawn and took a few moments to wake his body up before making the journey to find you. It was currently 3:15 in the morning and he couldn’t help but feel as if something was wrong. You would never wake up in the wee hours of the morning unless it was to pee or if you got hungry, but you would always bring the food back to bed, so where could you have gone?
Right as he walked out of your shared bedroom, it was then as he heard the sound of guns being shot and cries of aliens that he knew you were playing halo. The newest installment of your favorite video game had just been released and you have been hinting to Mark for weeks that you wanted it for your birthday to which he would laugh at your subtleness.
When he surprised you with the game on top of your own controller and a headset that he knew you’d only use because you wanted to “look like a gamer” and not actually talk to others through it like he did, you were over the moon and you showed him how grateful you were on your knees the rest of that night.
Since you were busy with both work and school, you never had much time to play the game until you got home and even then, you were exhausted to say the least and never had enough energy to even eat; so the game went untouched for a few days. You woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to go back to sleep, even if the tight grip on your waist was quite comforting; so you made your way in to the living room and wrapped yourself in to a blanket burrito while quietly turning on the game. Mark giggled softly to himself when he saw how focused you were on the game and how adorable you looked squished between all the pillows.
“Babe.”
You didn’t notice your boyfriend at the edge of the couch until he tapped on your knee to get your attention. “Hey love, sorry did I wake you?” He shook his head and motioned for you to sit up so that he could sit down and immediately pulled you on to his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist protectively.
“Your absence is what got me up. I can’t sleep without you. You seem to be having fun though, how long have you been up for?” He propped his chin on your shoulder and you found yourself leaning back in to his embrace. You turned to steal a chaste kiss from the corner of his lips before returning to your game.
“Almost three hours. Once I finish a level I end up starting the next one and I can’t stop. This current level is so frustrating though, if you run out of ammo, you have to run out on the field and find more on your own. How am I supposed to protect myself and look for another weapon without getting killed—“ you were quick to smile in the kiss when Mark turned you around to face him and crashed his lips against yours.
“Couldn’t help myself. You’re so adorable you know that? Tell me more.” You continued to explain everything you’ve done so far, from killing hundreds of aliens to completing missions whilst aboard stolen planes. You were so into describing the game that you failed to notice how Mark was looking at you with so much love and adoration in his eyes. He looked at you as if you were the creator of the universe. As if you were the one who set all the stars, the sun and the moon in to the sky. Your boyfriend didn’t think it was possible for someone to make slaughtering aliens sound so cute.
You asked Mark if he wanted to head back to sleep but he was quick to disagree and held you tighter against his body. As you continued to play the game, you started to absentmindedly grind against Mark’s lap causing him to quickly grow aroused at the sensation. When you felt his hard on graze against your ass, your cheeks warmed up. “Y/n, maybe it’s time for us to go back to bed.” The raspiness in his voice sent chills down your spine and you knew exactly what he had in mind. You decided to mess with him even if you knew what his plans were once you were to head back to the room.
“Tired?”
“No. The complete opposite actually. I’m wide awake, and so is little Mark. Since you’re the one to cause the problem in my pants, I believe you should be the one to fix it. Now let’s go.”
The memory was all too much for him to take in. He made love to you for the rest of that morning until he had to get ready for work. If he knew that was going to be one of the last times he got to love on your body, he would’ve called in sick and taken his time with you. He would’ve kissed you longer, map your body with all of his love bites and held you just a little tighter so that you wouldn’t have been able to leave him.
The timer sounding off stopped him from drowning himself in self pity and he finished putting the ramen in to bowls before making his way back in to the living room. Alyssa had all her attention on the tv screen in front of her but paused the game when she saw Mark placing the bowls down on the coffee table. She quietly thanked him and began to eat her food.
Both her and Mark sat in silence, but the atmosphere was extremely awkward with neither of them knowing what to say. Mark felt bad, he knew he was the cause of the tension between the two of them, but he just didn’t feel like this was right. How could he put effort in to something he wanted no part in? Once they were both done eating, he took their bowls and set them down in the sink while releasing an exhausted sigh. He decided that he wanted to go to sleep and used that as excuse to get Alyssa out of his apartment.
When he returned back to the living room, he saw her reaching out to his dog Milo, but the cute little pup had already taken a disliking to the poor girl. Milo wasn’t one to like people all that easily, so if he showed attention to anyone other than Mark, that just proved the puppy liked you. Other than Mark, Milo loved you. You were good with giving him baths once a week, you’d pick up after him, you’d feed him treats when Mark wasn’t home and you’d always play fetch with him. Sometimes Mark would find himself getting jealous that Milo seemed to like you just a bit more, but it was also very cute.
With that being said, Milo seemed to have had a hard time accepting your absence once you moved out. He was no longer as active, wasn’t as quick to come whenever Mark called and he no longer ate all of his food that Mark put out for him. He still had a hard time understanding why you left, but he was never one to pry things out of you. If you had something on your mind, he would wait for you to tell him willingly.
“He’s so cute! What’s his name?” Mark shrugged.
“Milo.” She tried to play fetch with him but Milo payed her no mind before returning back to the room.
“Hey Alyssa, I um—I actually have to get up early tomorrow so is it okay to end things here tonight? I’m sorry about that—I’ll take you home—“ she shook her head politely while standing up and gathering her things.
“It’s alright, I can catch a taxi. Don’t worry about me. Thank you for having me over.” He gave her a sad smile before walking her over to the door.
“Oh—before I go, I um—I think you should talk to her.” Mark looked up at her in curiosity but right as he was going to ask her who she was talking about, she continued. “Jinyoung told me about your ex-girlfriend. I didn’t think much about it at first, but you seemed so distant, so out of it on our last two dates and I knew there was a reason someone as attractive and kind-hearted as you was single. It’s because your heart is still taken. Either you’re still in love with her, or you’re just not interested in me. But you should try, you never know what the outcome could be. For all you know, she’s still in love with you too. Have a nice night Mark. Take care.”
She pulled him in to a quick hug and went on her way. Her perfume was sweet and a bit too strong for his liking. You were never one to wear perfume. If anything, you preferred the scent of your laundry detergent; fresh linen always smelt good to you and Mark ended up liking the scent because it always reminded him of you. Right after your breakup, he had to change his laundry soap because it would always bring him to tears.
Mark made his way to the room and plopped down on the bed; shoving his face in to the pillow and released a frustrated grunt. The first week after you completely took out all of your things, Mark found himself sleeping on the couch. There was no way he’d be able to sleep on the bed without you in his arms. Matter a fact, he only started to sleep in his room again just two weeks ago. Milo even joined him on the bed and Mark was very grateful he had the cute little dog to be there for him or he was sure he’d go insane. He got up and went to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. Then he took off his shirt and changed in to a pair of sweats before making his way back in to the living room to turn off the tv.
As he reached for the game console and was about to turn off the tv, he saw a green dot in the corner of his eye, signaling that you were currently online. His heart rate started to increase and he felt a single tear fall on his cheek. He hasn’t seen you since your last night together and seeing that you were currently playing a game made him smile to himself. He decided to play for a few minutes and it took every bone in his body not to send you a game request.
Ten minutes after he started the game, he got a notification that you sent a message. He felt as if his heart was going to combust out of his chest and his finger began to circle over the button. A huge part of him wanted to see what you had to say. His heart was practically pleading with him to open it but his mind was afraid that you said something he didn’t want to hear. Going with the commands of his heart, he opened the message and released the breath he didn’t even know he was holding.
Tiger-lily: Hey. It’s been a while. Are you busy? 10:26 p.m.
Mark smiled like an idiot to himself before waiting a few minutes to respond, not wanting to seem too forward or too eager even if he was extremely excited. He could only hope this meant good things.
Morkus: Never too busy for you. What’s up? Are you okay? 10:30 p.m.
Tiger-lily: I think I made a mistake. I know that it’s late, but can I come over? 10:32 p.m.
He bit down on his bottom lip to prevent himself from screaming. Were you referring to breaking up with him? Did you regret leaving? Were you regretting these last four months of being away from him? What was the mistake that you made? He could only pray something good was about to happen.
Morkus: Yeah sure. Need me to come get you? 10:33 p.m.
Tiger-lily: No. I should be fine. I’ll see you in a few. 10:35 p.m.
Mark quickly got up from off the couch and turned off the tv while looking around to make sure the place looked spotless. He couldn’t believe you were on your way to his apartment nor could he process the idea of you regretting the breakup. He knew he shouldn’t have been getting his hopes up, but his heart felt so full. When he saw Milo slowly treading in to the living room, he picked him up and began kissing him all around his face.
“Mommy’s coming home Milo. Let’s get you cleaned up. She’s going to know I’ve been a mess without her just by the fact that you wreak.” As he began to give Milo a bath, he heard a soft knock on the door and he had to calm himself down before opening it. His mind was full of so many thoughts and questions he wanted to ask you, but he didn’t want to ruin things before they could even start. Once he laid his eyes on you, it’s like he fell in love with you all over again. Has it really been four months since he last saw you? Since he last held you and kissed you? Since he last got to hold your dainty little hand in his and professed his love for you both to the world and amongst yourselves?
“Hi.”
“Hey.” He gave you a soft smile and offered for you to come inside.
“Can I get you something to eat or drink? You look very good by the way. Well, I mean—you always look good. Even when you wear a old, raggedy shirt of mine with your hair in a bun honestly I think that’s when you look the prettiest—I should stop talking I’m sorry. Let me go get Milo from out of the sink.” He grinned when he saw the small smile rise upon your face before heading back in to the bathroom. After drying Milo off with a towel and placing him on the ground, he gave himself a few seconds to come to his senses. Even after all this time, you still had quite the effect on him and only you were able to turn him in to a stuttering and clumsy mess.
His heart warmed when he saw Milo in your hands, licking at your face in excitement. He missed this. Missed you. It was all so natural for you to be in his environment again. It’s as if you never left in the first place. He took in your appearance and frowned when he saw the bags under your eyes and how much weight you lost. Although there were so many questions on the tip of his tongue, he was going to let you take the lead in how things were going to go. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, attempting to get used to the other’s presence. Finally, after what felt like forever, you spoke up.
“I’m sorry.” He looked at you in confusion, not understanding where you were coming from and waited for you to continue. “Like I said earlier, I made a mistake. These last few months without you have been hell. I was going through some shit at the time and I didn’t want to bring you down with me. I needed to learn to love myself before I could allow you to continue loving me. I know it was selfish of me and I genuinely felt like you deserved better, so that’s why I left. And I lied, I didn’t leave because I was no longer happy in this relationship. I’m happiest when I’m with you.”
You took in a deep breath before continuing your rant. Seeing Mark look so small, so fragile and knowing that you were the reason made you feel terrible. He was the most amazing boyfriend and took such great care of you. He never failed to make you smile and you were sure his laugh was the most beautiful sound you have ever heard. How could you break his heart when he was the only person who has ever meant anything to you?
“I’ve been so lost without you. Learning to live without you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Every time something went wrong in my life, I wanted so badly to run to you and cry in to your arms. But I felt so stupid, I’m the one who put us in this situation; I had no right to feel sorry for myself. Not a day went by where I didn’t think about you. I wanted to call you, text you and I even found myself outside of the apartment wanting to come in and apologize for all the pain I’ve caused you. I’m sorry it took so long. I was cleaning out my closet earlier when I stumbled upon the letter you wrote me for our third anniversary and I kept replaying the last few words in my mind over and over again the entire day. “I love you y/n and I plan to love you for the rest of my life. No matter what happens, it’s always going to be you.” I cried like a baby for hours and I finally came to the conclusion that I don’t want to be without you anymore. I overheard Youngjae and Yugyeom talking about a girl and how you’re dating again, so I understand if I’m too late, I just needed you to know that I’m still so madly in love with you and I’d do anything to be yours again.”
You took his silence as a bad sign and began to pick at your nails in nervousness, a habit Mark noticed that you would do whenever you were worried. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t upset to hear that you broke up with him because you felt you weren’t enough for him and because you were dealing with some battles on your own but he couldn’t blame you. You were always so independent, you were never one to tell anybody your problems even if Mark would tell you countless times that he was always there for you whenever you needed him. His heart hurt for you and he hated that he didn’t see the signs before.
“Baby.” Hearing him call you the term of endearment sent a warm feeling to your chest and before you knew it, his lips were smashing against yours. You deepened the kiss and wrapped your arms up around his neck. His lips were soft and tasted like kimchee and you had to stifle back a laugh. Mark was notorious for eating ramen. You were surprised he’s never gotten tired of it seeing as how that is all he ever eats. He licked your bottom lip before bringing it in to his mouth playfully. The two of you made out for quite some time, neither of you being able to pull away because it’s been so long. Back when the two of you first started dating, you and Mark were constantly kissing each other. Whether it was a quick peck goodbye as one of you left for work, or a rough, passionate make out session after a heated argument, you could never go a day without connecting your lips with his. To Mark’s dismay, you broke the kiss in order to catch your breath and placed your forehead against his.
“I’ve missed you.” You giggled softly before placing a sloppy kiss on his jaw.
“I’ve missed you too. God, you don’t understand just how much Mark.” He reached for your fingers and began to play with them while bringing them up to his lips in order to gently kiss your fingertips.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were suffering y/n? I would’ve been there for you. I should’ve been there for you. That’s what I’m here for. I’m your boyfriend. You’re supposed to lean on me whenever life gets too hard. You should’ve let me help you carry the burden, not go through that all by yourself. If I knew that was the reason why you left, I wouldn’t have let you go in the first place. Don’t you dare for one second think you’re not good enough for me. I meant it every single time I said it. You’re perfect baby. You’re all I want in this lifetime and the next. God, I don’t know what I did to deserve you here right now but I’ll do it time and time again if it means you’ll stay. I love you so much y/n. Promise me baby, if there ever comes a time where you are going through a rough patch, you will tell me. Please. I can’t lose you again. The pain is too much to handle.”
He reached for your hand and brought it up to his chest so that you could feel how quickly it was beating. “This pathetic thing I call my heart, or whatever is left of it, whatever you didn’t take with you when you broke up with me, it’s yours. You have all of me y/n. Forever. I’m yours forever.” The tears were hot as they fell down your face causing you to reconnect your lips together once more. Mark stood up and brought you with him, wrapping your legs around his hips and placed his hands on your ass, guiding you both towards the bedroom.
“Mark what are you going to do—“
“You. All night.” You gave him a knowing look and let out a soft moan when he slapped one of your ass cheeks. “I haven’t busted a nut in over four months y/n, I think we need to make up for lost time.”
He threw you all but gently on the bed before attacking your face with sloppy kisses. “Mmm—Mark!”
“Just like that baby. I love hearing my name fall from your pretty lips. I love you so much y/n. Thank you for coming back to me.”
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theshy1sout · 3 years
Text
Inseparable - Chapter 1
7th February! What a lovely day to start brand-new trolls Au!
As I promiced, this is part 3 of 300-special This one is again for @starlight-jamy who asked for broppy oneshot. I’m sorry, it’s not a oneshot. It’s the whole frickin fanfiction. It’s also kinda my gitf for you, my followers, cause today is my birthday! I Always wanted to give people things at my birthday, just like hobbits.
Today I post first two chapters. And then I will post a chaper every Sunday. (today is Sunday, right?). Short chapters. Usually 2k words, sometimes more.
Ship: Broppy
Rated: Nope.
Au: Trolls Mythology Au
Type: Slow Burn Fluff :3
Ao3 
Summary:  - There's the guardian of the Night, but no one takes care of the Day - Peppy, the God of Friendship and Harmony, King of the Gods, looks around the big hall to get everyone's attention. Gods listen to him as always, carefully and with huge respect they have to their master. He catches even Branch's attention this time. - I summoned you to discuss this very important topic. - King Peppy raises his hand and turns to the beautiful pink lady in the bright blue dress. - My daughter becomes a full goddess today. And it would be an honor if you all agree that she is a good person to take care of the Day, which means holding the Staff and looking after the whole living world under its Light.
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Far, far ago, when the gods walked through the Earth and love didn't exist yet, trolls were like other creatures in the world. They didn't have the awareness, free will, or feelings deeper than the animals have. The only difference between them and critters was some kind of civilization. They worked, played, and bred during the day and rested during the night. They built villages and formed families and communities. But all the things they made were the result of the intervention of gods [divine intervention], who wanted the best for their creatures. Immortals taught trolls all about working, having fun, building villages, and playing music, but trolls couldn't create things on their own. And no one saw anything wrong with that, because nobody knew it could be different.
Day passed by day and nothing has changed. Whenever it's time to rest, Branch, the god of the Night, walks on the highest hill and grabs the Staff Of The Light, making the gold shining Sphere on it glow much less bright than during the Day. In Branch's hand, a magic source of light that trolls call "the sun" beams slightly bright blue. The whole world meets the darkness and the silence; every creature on the Earth can do nothing but sleep and rest. When the day is supposed to be started, the God of the Night walks on the highest hill again to dig the Staff Of The Light on the top, and freeing it from his cold hands puts brightness on the whole world.
- There's the guardian of the Night, but no one takes care of the Day - Peppy, the God of Friendship and Harmony, King of the Gods, looks around the big hall to get everyone's attention. Gods listen to him as always, carefully and with huge respect they have to their master. He catches even Branch's attention this time. - I summoned you to discuss this very important topic. - King Peppy raises his hand and turns to the beautiful pink lady in the bright blue dress. - My daughter becomes a full goddess today. And it would be an honor if you all agree that she is a good person to take care of the Day, which means holding the Staff and looking after the whole living world under its Light.
Everyone's eyes lay on the young pink-haired woman, who stepped shyly onto the middle of the Hall of Parley. She takes a deep breath and smiles, mostly to reassure herself. But when she notices friendly smiles appearing on more and more gods' faces, she feels kind of proud and excited.
-My King, I think there's nothing to discuss - Holly, goddess of Hospitality, points out. - If there's someone who fits perfectly for this job, it is Poppy for sure!
- Hell yea! - Barb, Queen of the Underworld, yells. She always finds a reason to yell.
- I'm not that sure - Delta Dawn, the goddess of Justice, adds. - Isn't that too much for someone that young?
- Poppy, tell us - Quincy, the god of Wisdom, turns to the pink little lady in the center. - How would you feel about that responsibility? Isn't that too overwhelming for you?
- It is, I guess... - Poppy starts, looking down. - But I have been watching trolls and other creatures since I was a child and... I really attach to them. I enjoy making them happy more than anything else in the world and if you give me your trust, then I'll do everything to protect them and give them all I can.
She ends with full confidence and when she looks up again, she sees all the gods smiling at her, nodding. Cooper, the god of Fun, starts applauding with joy and everyone slowly stands up and joins in. Besides one person... But Poppy quickly forgets that, cause the low tone of her dad's voice catches her attention.
- So that's it! - King announces, also standing up. - I have my honor to introduce our new Immortal: Poppy, the goddess of the Day and the Light!
Gods and goddesses start yelling and cheering. Poppy doesn't even notice when she ends up surrounded by them. They all grin and laugh, wishing her the best and congratulating her over and over. She's never got so much attention, it's even a bit overwhelming. But in this crowd of Immortals, one wish sounds a bit different than the other.
- I appreciate you. Good Teamwork!
Poppy turns to the dull face of Barb. Queen of the Underworld doesn't look like she's joking.
- Teamwork! - Pink girl tries to play amused. - With whom?
- Don't ya know! - Barb laughs at her and throws her hand at the corner of the hall. - Him.
Poppy lifts her head to look above her arm. Far from talks and laughs, there's the guy with a grey hoodie on his head, all covered by a long, dark capote. His face isn't visible, but for some reason, Poppy is sure that he isn't looking at any particular thing. He is just here, sitting very still on his god's seat. As if his presence here was enough to call him a part of the event.
- Branch. The god of The Night - Barb accents the word 'god'. - The guardian of the Darkness and the Silence. And the most important for ya: the one holding The Staff of the Light. - Goddess shows her teeth in a kinda creepy way. - Just like you.
- He's um... - Poppy now has so many questions, that she doesn't know from which she should start.
- You'll get to know him - The pink-haired girl feels a hard hit on her back. - Don't worry, I'm just playing with ya! It's just holding some dum' stick! You give it to him in the evening and then he gives it to you back in the morning. Easy!
- But why is he...
- Nobody knows, he's just different! - Poppy is interrupted once again by the energetic Underworld's Queen. - To be honest, I don't even know how he looks like.
- He's never shown his face?!
- No... I just don't remember. But that's enough about this grump, let's talk about a much funnier thing on the Earth! Or should I say: Under the Earth!
Poppy already feels a bit overwhelmed by the goddess energy. All she really wants right now is to talk with her father and start her job. But she thinks, if she was waiting for it whole years, then she can hold a few minutes more. Right?
- What do you mean? - She asks, not even hiding her tiring.
- Girl, you'll see, nights will be so boring for ya there - Barb starts a bit less loudly and less throwing-her-arms-and-legs-everywhere-ly. - Underworld is always welcoming ya. There's a wild, loud party nonstop!
- What's a party?
- You'll see - Barb smirks at her and finally starts moving away from her. - The total opposite of boredom.
- Ok, thanks - Poppy waves at her, trying to smile as wide as she can. - See ya later! ...I guess...
After way too many wishes, pieces of advice, and cheers, after another long talk with her father, after a million little things she has to go through, Poppy finally steps on the hill and faces the Staff of the Light. Don't get her wrong, normally she really enjoys hanging out with others. Well, she was mostly spending time with King Peppy or trolls on the Earth until now. She feels like she should have taken this opportunity of talking with every single Immortal much more than she did. But she was looking for this little moment almost her entire life. She couldn't think about anything but standing here, on the hill, in front of the Staff of the Light and grabbing all of her dreams, the role of her life, her vocation, her...
- You're gonna grab it or not?
Poppy blinks, surprised. She looks around just to notice a silhouette darker than the Darkness itself. She needs a minute to realize who is he. The god of the Night. Of course, he's here. It's his job to be here. It is still the Night after all. But she is a bit upset at him for destroying the magic of the moment.
So once again Poppy glances at the Staff of the Light, takes a really big breath and... She grabs it! And with her very first touch, the sphere on the top explodes with gold light and the whole world is being filled with so many beautiful colors and Poppy has never been happier in her entire life. Even a dry "So see ya later I guess" by Branch can't destroy it. Ah! She is so happy! She runs down the hill with the Staff glowing in her hand, laughing so loud and so long, till her cheeks start to ache and she loses her voice, but even then she is so happy. So happy.
After one day, and then another, and then one more, and then the whole week of enjoying this exhaustingly happy moment in her life, it comes the time to grab the Staff seriously. Poppy knows exactly what she wants and how the perfect Day should look like. She has planned it for years! So the first thing she changes is the start and the end of the Day. She adds so many colors to the sky: pinks, oranges, reds, and yellows. She asks Suki, the goddess of the Music, to make melodies for birds to let them greet every Day's beginnings and ending. With Milton, the god of the Critters, she teaches birds to sing them. She designs with Satin and Chenille, the twin goddesses of Beauty, new kinds of flowers. Every Day she runs through the whole Earth creating new things, changing the old ones, adding colors and light everywhere it is possible.
Until one Day she finishes all of her ideas and she can finally make the last point of her plan: enjoying the brand-new happy world she created.
But after a week of just guarding the Day and taking care of the Light Poppy feels there's something wrong. She has missed something. She is lost in her thoughts, trying to find the missed thing, when she walks on the hill, like every evening. She hears peaceful "Good evening" and feels it when somebody's hand takes the Staff of the Light off her. Poppy blinks like she's just woken up, but before she can answer, Branch throws "Good Night" and walks away.
''Oh. So that is the thing." Poppy thinks, ashamed.
It's been half of the year since her pink hands grabbed the Staff for the first time. The goddess was too busy with her big plans to even notice the Night. After giving back the Staff, barely even noticing Branch, she just falls asleep. She always finds sleeping the most boring thing ever, cause it's just laying down and closing your eyes to open them a few hours later. But although Immortals don't need to sleep, after a whole day of running and creating she was just exhausted.
And now Poppy realizes that the god of the Night was greeting her every morning and every evening and she has never answered him. It isn't even rude or mean, it is a complete disaster! Poppy as a daughter of King Peppy, the god of Friendship and Harmony, should be the one making friendships and building harmony, not ignoring people!
She has to fix that now.
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Special thanks for @livinginithilien-blog for editing the chapter in the middle of the night XD
Chapter 2
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jostenlovesminyard · 4 years
Text
Pink and Purple
This is my piece for the AFTG Fall Exchange @aftgexchange
I originally posted this on AO3 for @punchsomeoneforme-willyou but I’m now posting it on here to add to my masterlist! Sorry for posting it twice! Enjoy! Neil had always liked Fall. He loved the colours splattered on the ground from the fallen leaves and the weather that was neither too hot nor too cold. However, Halloween was his favourite part of Fall. The amount of magical energy that surged around on the holiday was the perfect cover for Neil. Being on the run meant his powers had to be concealed at all times. Halloween was the one night he could let go and be himself.
The energy coming from the world that night was enough to conceal anything, let alone Neil’s pitiful magic skills. A mage’s magic slowly grows within them when they’re young. The magic given to them can stem from all sorts of different fragmental pieces of the universe. Neil’s power came from the earth. He could manipulate its energy and the things it grew, whether that be trees or the ground he stood on. His mother’s magic was protective. She could create barriers of protection, healing and soothing magic. When he was younger she would use her powers to soothe his nerves and help him sleep. He missed her magic. He’d run from his father’s abuse the first chance he’d gotten. She’d given him an opening and shouted for him to run and never look back. Back then he was Nathaniel Wesninski. Since then he’d changed his name countless times. Three years on the run and he’d settled with Neil Josten, aged 21, (he was actually 21 but he saw no problem in keeping his real birthday). Neil’s father had one of the most powerful sources of magic known to man. Eldritch magic gave him the ability to mind-bend and manipulate anything. He used it to force people to bend to his will, use them against others, and use everything they thought they knew to take them down.
A more common form of magic was the ability to track other magical beings. Neil’s father had a large abundance of tracking mages at his disposal. The more tracking mages, the larger the search wave will be. Neil hadn’t properly used his powers in 5 years in fear of them tracking him down, his magic was susceptible to tracking spells. His powers usually left a trace on the earth around it. However,  every year on Halloween he carved a pumpkin. He used his powers to manipulate a silhouette of a young boy and his mother holding hands into a pumpkin he would find on a local pumpkin patch. He hoped his mother was still alive and she could sense his gift. He would use it to keep wherever he was sleeping that night alight. As soon as Halloween was over, he pushed his powers deep into the earth’s core, ripping apart the pumpkin he used, ridding the world of the very idea of that particular pumpkin, ridding it of the seed it was grown from, the dirt it was grown in and praying this wasn’t the year his father’s men caught on to his little pumpkin act. Every magic left a trace but carving a pumpkin was a pretty obscure thing to use your powers on, however, he wouldn’t put it past his father’s men to have memorized the essence of his magic by now. He wasn’t sure that was possible but if anyone could do it, it was his father.
The week before Halloween, he found himself in a small town called Palmetto, full of everyday folk, no signs of mages. He was currently sleeping rough around the back of a coffee shop called ‘The Black Cat’. The awning at the back meant he was sheltered from the lashing rain that had begun to haunt him every night. It was around seven in the evening, the coffee shop usually closed around five if Neil’s internal clock was correct. He was about to search through the trash to see if there was any edible food when he heard a small noise coming from a bush near to the back door. He made an effort to listen and heard the tiniest meow. Kneeling down on the concrete, he looked under the bush to find a small tortoiseshell kitten huddled there. It hissed as soon as it saw Neil and he laughed quietly at the cuteness. “Hey there.” He said, not caring if anyone saw him. “You ok in there?” He asked, not expecting a response. His powers may connect him to the earth but he still wasn’t able to speak to the animals on it. The kitten opened his mouth wide and let out the fiercest meow it could muster. “Oh wow, you’re very scary,” Neil assured the little lion. He looked at the kitten’s tiny paws and noticed it was stuck on the brambles of the bush. He was concerned only for a second before he realized he was probably the best person this little kitten could have asked help from. “Don’t worry, I got you.” He said, pushing his hand down onto the concrete. He closed his eyes and felt the branches of the bush twined around the kitten’s paw. He imagined he was undoing a knot, pulling more energy up from the core and into the bush, the branches untwisted and freed the kitten who sprung free out of the bush and right onto Neil’s lap. “There you go little one!” Neil beamed and then realized his own mistake. “Shit! I used my powers!” He muttered to the small bundle of fur. “You wasted them on a kitten? How cliche.” A voice came from behind him. The kitten jumped off Nei as he shot up, holding a small knife behind his back that he’d pulled from his sleeve. The man in front of him didn’t look like one of his father’s men, in fact he was holding a bag of trash from the cafe. He couldn’t have been more than 5 feet tall, blonde, and well, pretty ripped to put it lightly. Neil flashed his eyes to the alley leading to the main street and debated making a run for it. “Somebody looking for you?” The stranger spoke again and Neil growled. “What’s it to you?” He replied, viciously, and to add to the confrontation, it started raining. The stranger sighed, looking upwards. “Because our cafe is a safe place. Nobody can track you here.” He huffed and Neil cocked his head. “If you want to keep camping out under the awning feel free but you can come get a coffee on the house if you want to know more.” The blonde man continued and Neil nodded slowly. He followed the stranger into the cafe and felt gentle warmth overcome him. He sighed and shivered slightly at how cozy it was in the cafe. “What’s your name?” The blonde asked him but Neil just narrowed his eyes. “Fine. I’m Andrew Minyard. This is my cafe.” Andrew said, rolling his eyes. Neil nodded again in acknowledgment. “Neil.” He finally said. “Thanks for letting me in.” It was Andrew’s turn to nod. “No problem and I meant what I said. Nobody can find you here.” “Is it like…invisible…?” “Are you fucking dumb? No of course it’s not.” “Oh.” “My foster mother, Bee, she’s a mage too. Her powers create a shield around the place. It’s your average coffee shop but it’s annulled from tracking magic.” “Wow!” Neil exclaimed. “Is she able to heal people? My mom could do that.” “Yeah, she’s great.” “So was my mom,” Neil said wistfully. He felt the room drop in temperature slightly and the lights took more of a blue tinge. He looked at Andrew, confused. Andrew must have clocked on because he apologized. “Sorry, that’s me.” He explained and Neil raised an eyebrow needing a little more information than that. Andrew sighed. “I feel other’s emotions, if they feel very strongly about something my powers tend to rid some of the excess emotion into the space around me. When you walked in, Bee was drinking tea on the couch upstairs, hence the coziness.” “Oh wow, that’s amazing. What about your emotions? Do they affect your powers too?” Andrew frowned slightly, looking a the floor. “No, I struggle to feel them, or understand what I’m feeling anyway.” He mumbled and Neil hummed in understanding. “What about you? Is your power saving little kittens?” Andrew inquired, clearly changing the subject. Neil rolled his eyes. “I borrow energy from the earth. It helps me manipulate things. I can also use the energy as shock waves so if you want me to knock you off your feet just lemme know.” He said and realized that perhaps that could be taken in a flirty manner but Andrew didn’t seem phased. “Huh, nice.” Was all he said back and Neil gave him a thumbs up, awkwardly. Andrew raised an eyebrow at him but turned to make him some coffee.
“It’s your lucky day, We closed a couple of hours ago so you have the cafe to yourself which I’m sure you’ll be happy about.” “I am, thank you. I’m very grateful.” Neil assured and smiled at the other man. Andrew’s lips curled up slightly and then returned to a neutral expression. Neil was about to ask if he could stay the night when a lady who Neil guessed to be in her 50’s, walked down the stairs in the back of the cafe. He assumed this must be Bee “Hello! Are you a friend of Andrew’s?” She asked warmly to Neil, he side-eyed Andrew, waiting to see if he was going to step in but he was examining his nails. “Um, kind of ma’am, he’s letting me hide in here.” He said and her face took on a look of concern. “Who are you hiding from? You’re safe under my protection anyway.” She assured and Neil smiled. “Oh well, my father. He’s…not very nice. um, my mother actually has the same powers as you.” He said, hoping to change the subject away from his father. Bee either didn’t notice the evasion or didn’t care because she smiled at him.
“How lovely! Here, I can help you relax.” She said, gesturing for him to follow her into the seating area of the cafe. Andrew shooed him away so he sped up to catch up with her. He took a seat at one of the tables. “Is your mother no longer with us?” Bee asked. "I don’t know. She told me to run from my father while she stayed to fend him off. I don’t know if she made it out or not.” He replied, honestly. Bee gently laid her hand on his shoulder and he was engulfed with memories of his mother. The magic was so similar he sighed and closed his eyes, reveling in the feeling of maternal love and protection. When Bee took her hand off her he noticed the room was raining and he himself was crying. He looked over to Andrew who shrugged. “I don’t want your sadness.” He said holding his hands up. Bee tutted at him and she gently laid her hand on Andrew’s shoulder instead, until the room stopped raining. He thanked her and gave Neil his coffee. “Subtly flavored with rainwater.” He said, sarcastically and Neil laughed. The room flashed pink and purple for a moment before returning to normal. Bee giggled quietly to herself whilst Andrew frowned with a huff. “You have quite the effect on Andrew’s power, Neil.” She said, stifling another laugh when Andrew glared at her. Neil just cocked his head. “Do I?” “It’s because you’re an emotional wreck, clearly.” he huffed but Bee just scoffed. “Don’t listen to him, he’s drunk too much coffee.” She told Neil and Andrew squawked in protest, making Neil giggle. The room lit up again and both Neil and Bee burst into laughter. Neil hadn’t felt this happy in years. It felt so good to laugh. It didn’t help that Andrew was reminding him of the feisty kitten from the alley. When he told him as much the warning glare he received just proved his point even more. “How long will you be staying, Neil?” Bee asked him, taking a sip of Andrew’s coffee, he projected his glare at her instead. “Oh, I don’t know, until I can think of another safe place I guess?” “You can stay here as long as you need.” She smiled warmly at him. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you.” “You’ll have to sleep on the couch if that’s ok with you?” Andrew spoke up and Neil tried to hide his excitement. He’d been sleeping on dirt and cold floors for months on end and they were asking if a couch was ok? A couch was a gift from the Gods.
That evening, Andrew showed Neil upstairs. “My room is just through there,” he pointed to a room at the end of a small corridor, “The bathroom is just there.” this time he pointed to a small room at the back of the apartment. Neil nodded, showing he understood, and held out his arms as Andrew passed him a fluffy blanket and a pillow. “The pillow is one of mine so, sorry if it’s not overly clean,” he mumbled. “Oh no worries, I’ve slept on a lot worse, believe me.” He replied and Andrew raised an eyebrow at him. Neil felt himself blush. “So, does Bee live here too?” “Yeah, It’s convenient for both of us,” He pointed to a room Neil assumed was Bee’s, “So I never saw the point of moving out. I’m only twenty one anyway so it’s not too humiliating,” “Aww bet you just wanna be with your mommy.” Neil teased and laughed at Andrew’s drawn-out eye roll. He slumped down on the couch, Andrew joined him and turned on the TV. “So, why is your Dad after you?” “Oh…well he…wants my power.” “What’s so special about your powers?” Andrew questioned, Neil sighed. “Nothing really, he’s just power-hungry. He wants to get rid of me so I can’t help anyone take him down and he’ll have even more power because of it.” “How the hell can he take your powers?” “He has a whole army of mages that dabble in Dark Magic, he can do anything.” Andrew let out a low whistle and Neil nodded solemnly. “Well, you’re safe here.” Andrew reminded him and Neil smiled. He saw Andrew look at his mouth and the room lit up purple again. “Why do your powers do that?” “When I absorb strong emotions, I can’t always contain them all. they leak out and affect wherever I am.” “So I’m more emotional than the regular person?” Neil’s brow scrunched in confusion. “Not exactly,” Andrew said, looking off to the side. “So your powers just…like me?” “Maybe.” He resigned. Neil smiled again. “Awesome!” He said, “Make the room flash again.” He ordered. Andrew’s answering glare made him smile again. “I can’t do it on command, laugh again. “ Andrew demanded. “I can’t do it on command.” Neil mocked, “Make me laugh.” He stuck his tongue out. Andrew scooted closer to him. “Can I touch you, yes or no?” Neil thought for a moment and then nodded. Andrew gently tickled Neil’s ribs and he recoiled laughing. The room lit up pink and purple once again, Neil’s giggling died down and e watched the swirls of colour light up Andrew’s face. “Cheater.” He said and Andrew shrugged. Neil watched as he stood up and checked the time. “I’m gonna head to bed, see you in the morning.” he even gave him a little wave. Neil saw him cringe at that. “Good night, Andrew.” He replied with a smile.
Neil spent the next few days helping around the coffee shop. Andrew mainly bossed him around just to annoy him but Neil enjoyed himself regardless. This kind of domesticity had seemed so out of reach up until a week ago. Now he was pouring coffee for people, washing dishes and watching Andrew bake the goodies they sold at the front counter. Neil’s powers were allowed to stretch their legs for the first time in years and he was reminded of the thrill it gave him to let go of the pent up energy he was absorbing from his surroundings. He sprouted small flowers for Bee to arrange in the house, a single rose for Andrew, and fresh herbs to use in Andrew’s baking. Neil didn’t know why he’d given Andrew the rose. He’d associated the bright pink colour with Andrew’s magic and the blush that so often stained his freckled cheeks. The decision had been a last-minute one. He’d been allowed to stay at the Minyard-Dobson household for 6 days and he already felt like they were his family. When he held the rose out to Andrew he snatched it off him, a kiss on the cheek instead of a thank you. Neil couldn’t forget the feeling of dizzying happiness especially when he saw the room flash with Andrew’s magic. The small smile Andrew gave him was the best gift Neil had ever received.
The night before Halloween, Bee came through the back door carrying 3 large bags. Neil peaked in as soon as they were put down on the counter and raised an eyebrow when he saw they were pumpkins. Andrew wandered in after having locked the front of the cafe for the night. Bee ruffled his hair and brought over some kitchen utensils. Two knives, two rather large spoons, and two big glass bowls. “Right boys, I was thinking, as it’s Halloween tomorrow, we can carve some pumpkins for decoration, then use the insides and seeds in our baking in the morning!“ Neil smiled and nodded. He loved the idea of pumpkin muffins, cakes and drinks. Andrew shrugged and nodded in agreement and Bee pointed at the tools and pumpkins she’d bought. “Get to it then!” She said with a wink and headed up the stairs to their apartment. Andrew huffed and Neil shook his head fondly. He wasn’t stupid, Bee was clearly trying to get him and Andrew alone. Neil wasn’t going to say no to that. He enjoyed Andrew’s company and if Andrew’s inability to control his powers around him was anything to go by, Andrew just might enjoy being around him too. He hoped so anyway. The two boys began the arduous task of carving the five pumpkins Bee had purchased and ‘scooping out the guts’ as Andrew put it. Neil was covered in pumpkin guts as soon as he started, he shook his hand to rid it of the sticky substance when he saw Andrew flinch. A chunk of the pumpkin flesh had flicked from Neil’s hand, right onto Andrew’s cheek, he gulped as Andrew slowly reached up and swiped it off, staring at the orange monstrosity. Before he could react, Andrew reached into his glass bowl and threw a hand full of the pumpkin flesh at Neil, It stuck on his cheek and flew up into his hair, an embarrassing scream left his mouth at the horror of it all. He looked over at Andrew and saw a smirk gracing his lips. “Oh, it’s on, Blondie,” Neil growled playfully. He scooped the mixture out of his bowl and threw it right back at Andrew. His hair became an orange mess, a bright contrast to his almost white hair, he sneered and launched another counter-attack at Neil, this time covering his nose and even sliding down his front, under his shirt. He shrieked again. “No! This is my favourite shirt you monster!” He said, laughter bubbling out. The room flashed Violet again just as Neil threw some more ammo at Andrew’s chest. It hit his shirt, creating a huge stain. There was silence for a minute until Andrew laughed quietly, Neil joined in and the two were laughing uncontrollably in under a minute. Neil sent a small shock wave out and the pumpkin guts and the pumpkin itself slowly returned to its original form however, the sticky feeling remained all over them both. Andrew looked mesmerized at the reformed pumpkin and ran his fingers along it as if he was checking if that had really happened. “I can just use my powers to carve them if you want?” Neil asked and Andrew gestured at the pumpkin as nonverbal consent. Neil closed his eyes, seeing the fibers holding the pumpkin together, He rearranged them, making shapes and patterns that he’d never have been able to carve with a knife. When he was done with the first one, a clean bowl of pumpkin guts next to it, he opened his eyes to admire his handy work. A fox and a cat sat next to each other under a crescent moon. “Wow,” Andrew said with genuine amazement. Neil smiled shyly. “It’s like us, you’re the cat, I’m the fox!” He said enthusiastically. Andrew snorted and shook his head. They were silent for a moment, Neil was focused on carving the next pumpkin. He could feel the earth’s power flowing through him freely for the first time in a long time. It gave him energy and purpose. He never wanted this to stop but knew the time was coming when he’d have to choose between accidentally exposing the coffee shop to his father’s people or running again. He couldn’t do that to Bee, and Andrew. His blonde companion spoke up just as Neil’s pumpkin began shifting and maneuvering into the shape he wanted. “My family is coming tomorrow. It’s sort of a Halloween tradition.” “Oh? Who’s your family then?” Neil asked, raising a brow without taking his eyes off the orange lump. “Well, my cousin, Nicky Hemmick, he’s a lot but he means well. There’s Abby, David and their son, Kevin. They’re not direct family but they looked after Bee when she had nobody else, before me of course,” Neil nodded and smiled, gesturing him to continue, “then er…there’s my twin brother. Aaron.” Andrew said, a long sigh indicating the strains of brotherhood. Neil laughed at him. “You have a twin? Identical…?” “Unfortunately. He’s my exact double.” “Wow! Awesome!” Neil said, he held back laughter when he saw Andrew’s narrowed eyes and lip twitch. “He’s annoying.” “He’s a brother. That’s how it works.” Andrew just rolled his eyes and shoved Neil playfully. The two stared at each other for a while, Neil looked at Andrew’s sticky clothes and then looked at his own. “We’re a mess.” Andrew nodded, “Maybe we should change before doing the rest?” He suggested. Andrew eyed him up and down. Neil suddenly felt very hot, a blush decorating his face. “You could just take your shirt off?” Andrew deadpanned and Neil let out an embarrassing squeak and Andrew smirked. “I’m teasing you Neil.” he snorted. Neil smiled at him. The space between them had somehow gotten smaller. His fingers twitched to reach out for Andrew’s hand. He felt their palms slide together and held in a breath as Andrew moved even closer. He looked into Andrew’s hazel eyes, as bright as molten lava. They were so close Neil could feel Andrew’s breath on his lips. “Can I kiss you?” Andrew whispered and Neil couldn’t get his ‘yes’ out quick enough. As soon as he did he felt their lips connect, moving gently in time with each other. Andrew’s magic lit the room up with shades of gold and rich purple, sending sparks and shivers down Neil’s spine. Neil suddenly had a moment of panic thinking maybe he’d accidentally sprout a flower on Andrew’s lips or something. When they pulled back he saw a small, indigo coloured orchid, tucked behind his ear. He must have materialized it when he’d tucked Andrew’s short side curls behind his ear, mid-kiss. Andrew was looking at him, hazel eyes swirled with gold, their breathing intermixed. “That was…” Neil began, trailing off. He couldn’t fathom any words that would be able to sum up what just happened. “A kiss?” Andrew supplied and Neil let out a breathy laugh. “A kiss,” He confirmed, reaching up and unhooking the orchid from Andrew’s ear. “You affect my magic too.” He whispered, Andrew smiled gently at him. “I guess I do.” And with that, their lips met once again.
Aaron and Nicky appeared around noon the next day. Nicky took one look at Neil and swept him up into a big hug. He was bombarded with questions almost immediately. “It’s so good to meet you! So, where are you from? How long are you staying? What are your powers?!” Nicky didn’t stop to breathe, about to start another onslaught of questions until an exact copy of Andrew cleared his throat. Neil knew it wasn’t Andrew because of the clothing he was wearing. Andrew didn’t wear blue coloured shirts. Aaron Minyard stood next to his cousin and held a hand out for Neil to shake. Neil took his hand. “Sorry about him. He’s like an over-excited puppy.” He apologized. Nicky squawked next to him, Neil shook his head. “It’s ok, honestly. To answer your questions: I was born in Baltimore, I’m staying as long as I’m welcome and my power stems from elemental magic, specifically earth magic.” “That’s so cool! Wow! My magic can manipulate objects!” Nicky explained, Neil nodded and waited for Nicky to continue. “Aaron can block out emotions!” He informed wich Neil found very intriguing. “The opposite of Andrew.” He stated and Aaron nodded. Huh, awesome. Betsy headed into the kitchen to greet everyone just as Kevin, David and Abby walked in. They introduced themselves to Neil, asking their own questions. Bee had clearly told them about the runaway that’d turned up on their doorstep. They were kind people. However, Kevin became quite stand-offish as soon as he realized Neil’s magic was elemental. Evidently so was his, except his stemmed from the air. Neil received a lot of passive-aggressive tips on “Bettering” his magic. Whatever that meant. Andrew assured him Kevin was uptight about everything he could have an opinion on so Neil decided to ignore him. They all headed upstairs. Bee, Abby and David were going out for the evening, leaving the others behind to watch scary movies apparently. Andrew had set the living room up perfectly. All the lights were out, curtains and blinds drawn and plenty of pillows and blankets scattered around the room, a few tea lights illuminating the creepy shadows around the apartment. Perfect horror movie atmosphere. Nicky began screaming before the movie had even begun, clinging to Kevin’s arm for dear life. Andrew reminded Nicky he was twenty-six and engaged, Kevin reminded Nicky he was twenty-four and straight. Neil struggled to see the relevance of any of that. Aaron took up the couch to himself, stretching across it and occasionally annoying Andrew with a wet finger in his ear from his vantage point. It earned him a punch to the stomach every time but Aaron’s brotherly instinct to annoy his twin was clearly too strong to be deterred. Andrew and Neil cuddled up together, leaning on the couch, sharing a big, fluffy blanket. ‘IT’ began playing on the big screen and they settled in for a night of jumpscares and popcorn spilling.
Three hours into their horror film binge, the candles began flickering. A breeze sweeping the apartment and making Neil shudder. Kevin looked over at him, frowning. “Anyone else feel that?” He questioned, Nicky paused the film. “I thought it was you,” Aaron said. Kevin shook his head right as the curtains flew open. Nicky let out a high pitched scream, covering his mouth when Andrew hissed at him to shut up. Neil made his way over to the window, looking out into the dark street below. He stopped breathing when he noticed a familiar face staring right back at him. His father. He fell to the floor, breathing heavily, eyes wide. His mind was screaming for him to get out but where could he go?  Andrew was by his side in an instant, followed by the others. “We need to hide. Now. We’re all dead but at least we can prolong it.” He gasped out. Aaron let out a strangled cry. “Are you serious?! Who is it?!” “My father and his men. He’ll kill us all. You guys need to hide. He might not know all of you are here. Hide before he sees you!” Neil cried, desperately trying to push Andrew off him. He wasn’t going to let Andrew die. Perhaps he could bargain with his father. Neil’s life for theirs. The problem was, Neil’s father wasn’t one for sparing lives. Tears filled his eyes. “Andrew, please ! Please hide!” “I’m not leaving you, idiot. We’re gonna get through this, together.” He replied, sternly though his throat bobbed with nerves. The cafe doors flung open, Neil heard the hit the floor. His lungs closed up, grabbing Andrew’s shirt he made one last attempt to beg them to leave. “PLEASE! GO!” The stairs creaked and he heard his father whistling happily as he walked up to the apartment. His father appeared suddenly, across the room, his men standing behind him, Lola, his right-hand woman, standing just behind him on his left.
“Nathaniel, my only son and my greatest disappointment!” He said, arms out as if he was waiting for Neil to un up and hug him. Neil stayed silent, averting his eyes. "Who the fuck is Nathaniel?” Nicky whispered, Aaron elbowed him to shut up. “I said, Hello.” “H-hello, sir.” He forced out, finally looking up, staring into his father’s dead-looking eyes. He was grinning, a sick, twisted smile. “Did you really think this pathetic little cafe could hide you from me? This power is inconsequential compared to mine. I thought I raised you to be smarter than this!” his father said, feigning disappointment. He was looking at Neil’s friend’s, his eyes falling on Andrew who’d hand was on Neil’s leg. “Someone special, Nathaniel? How precious.” Andrew growled at him. “Oh dear, that’s very rude. I’m his father you know?” “I’m well aware of who you are and how twisted you are too.” He spat, Neil’s father laughed, booming laughter that caused Neil to flinch. “Enough talk, I think I’ll kill your little love interest first, Nathaniel. Maybe that’ll teach you for running from me, then I-” He was cut off by a gust of wind. “Cover yourselves!” Kevin cried as the roof caved in and Nicky held his hands out to turn the falling roof shards into sand. Neil shot up. His father and his men were temporarily crushed in the roof debris.
“We need to move! They’ll be free soon! Nicky, can you  make the floor into a staircase?” a nod of confirmation was all he needed, “Ok, send us down to the cafe floor.” He demanded and Nicky twisted the beams and floorboards until a stairway was created. They ran down, shutting the blinds and shutters when they reached the cafe floor. “Shall we call my parents and Bee?” Kevin asked, voice filled with panic. Neil shook his head. “He’ll have his men surrounding the building. Anyone caught trying to come in will be killed.” Neil told him. “They won’t be back for a couple more hours. Let’s just hope we’re all still alive by then.” Andrew came to stand by Neil. “We need a plan.” He stated. Neil’s mind began to spin with possible escape routes and exits. None of them were viable. They needed to make a stand. An idea suddenly popped into his head. “Ok, Aaron. You need to shut off everyone’s emotions. My father can get in people’s heads. If you shut down our emotions, they can’t use it against us. Andrew, you work with your brother, use their emotions against them, get in their heads instead. Nicky, manipulate any and every object they try and use against us. Try and stick them in the floor or the walls. Anything to immobilize them! Kevin, take the air from their lungs, create vortexes. Anything you can think of to bring them down! I’ll go after my father.” He ended his monologue just as he heard a slam come from upstairs. “GO! GET INTO POSITIONS!” Neil shouted at them, Andrew and Aaron stood back to back, making sure they covered each other’s weaknesses, both carrying a sharp piece of metal that Nicky had formed for them. Kevin shielded himself and Nicky in a swirling wind, Nicky manipulating the air molecules to burn red hot. Neil dug deep down into the earth’s core. The magma shooting down his arms, resting as red hot balls in his palms. This was their last stand. If this plan failed. That was it. They were dead.
A hole appeared on the ceiling above and the intruders jumped down, magic gleaming around them. Neil’s father stood taller than them all. He looked furious. Perfect hair now ruined, face red with rage. “Now you all die!” He roared and their plan began. He felt his father try to penetrate his mind but Aaron’s powers shut them down. He cut off certain feelings and emotions that stemmed from negativity and anger. Neil looked over at Andrew. His face was strained, hands out as he sent bolts of angry looking surges of magic in waves towards the onslaught of aggressors. Neil shot his balls of magma at his fathers who melted them instantly. He cursed when he landed on his knee funny, dodging a counter-attack. His father’s men were lagging behind, a couple had fallen victim to Andrew and Aaron’s joint effort. Nicky manipulated the floor into restraints to keep them out of action. He was now focussing on restraining the hands of the other men so Kevin could steal the wind from their lungs. Lola ran at Neil suddenly. He couldn’t disengage from his father fast enough. She was reaching out for him when Andrew leaped in front of him, knocking her clean onto the floor. They wrestled around for a minute longer until Andrew came out on top, plunging the sword at her. She stopped struggling as soon as he pulled the sword out. Dead. Neil’s father shot freezing cold ice into Neil’s lungs, he couldn’t breathe for a minute, his throat closing up. The last wave of his men’s magic was dying down. Aaron focused his energy on Neil’s father. Shutting down his ability to use emotion fuelled magic. Andrew used Neil’s anger and rage to overpower the man’s thoughts and Kevin surrounded him in a vortex of strong wind. Nicky crafted a blade using the molten core Neil’s powers were using and handed it to him. Neil heaved himself up and walked over to his father, vortex parting in his wake. He sprouted vines to keep him still, looked him in the eyes and smiled. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this.” He spat and plunged the dagger deep into his father’s chest. “Goodbye, you sick son of a bitch. I hope you rot in hell.” he finished as the life flickered from his father’s cold, blue eyes. He slumped to the floor and Neil stumbled back, breath coming out in short bursts. It was over. His father’s mages all captured and his father finally dead. Their plan had worked by some miracle and they were all f- “ANDREW!” He heard Aaron shout from behind him. He swiveled around just in time to see Andrew collapse into his brother’s arms. Neil ran over, throwing himself to the floor. “Andrew?! What’s wrong?! What happened?!” “L-Lola,” He broke off with a cough, “S-she…urgh..she’s shut m-my sys-system down. I-I can’t move, Neil.” he choked out. Neil felt hot tears prickle his eyes. Nicky was pacing behind him, repeatedly crying out for him to be ok. Kevin was calling the Mage headquarters of America to tell them what had happened. Aaron’s eyes were blurred with tears. “What do we do?! I can’t feel his emotions! He’s dying Neil!” He despaired. Neil had no energy left. He couldn’t think straight. His brain was clogged with emotion. He looked at Andrew, his hazel eyes dimming. “Andrew I-” “It’s ok, Neil. It was worth it to save you.” “I-I love you! More than anything!” Neil sobbed, Andrew smiled gently, the room flickering with a gentle hue of pink and purple. “I love you too, so much.” He managed to get out, barely a whisper. Neil scrunched his eyes closed, tears falling freely. Andrew’s eyes fluttered shut, letting out one last breath. The four boys gathered around him each one grieving silently. Neil couldn’t breathe. They were all silent for a while, waiting for the members of the Headquarters to arrive, sharing tears and sobs. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Andrew’s lips before resting his forehead on Andrew’s defeatedly. Neil heard a slight gasp, looking up he saw Andrew’s eyes fluttering gently behind the lids. “Holy shit, holy shit! Andrew?!” Neil tried, desperately. The blonde’s eyes opened gently, he coughed and grabbed onto Neil. “What happened?” He asked, voice groggy as if he’d just woken up from a nap. “YOU DIED! THAT’S WHAT HAPPENED!” Aaron cried, eyes wide with surprise and confusion. “Neil did you…kiss Andrew back to life?” Kevin questioned, “Can your powers…do that?!” Neil thought for a while, he’d never had to bring anyone back to life before. “You kissed me?” Andrew asked slowly. Neil blushed. “Uh, yes?” he hesitated slightly, “I was heartbroken!” He said, honestly. “Aw, you have a crush on me, that’s so embarrassing.” Andrew teased and Neil rolled his eyes fondly. He helped Andrew stand up slowly. “Perhaps, because your powers are connected to the earth’s energy, you gave some of it to Andrew?” Aaron suggested and Kevin nodded in agreement. “I guess so!” Neil replied. “Well, we survived. Somehow.” Andrew said. Neil burst out laughing and the room flashed pink and purple.
6 months later…
Neil opened the door to his and Andrew’s apartment. He placed the grocery bags on the kitchen counter and made his way over to the couch where Andrew was laying. He leaned over the arm of the chair for an upside-down kiss in lieu of hello. “You’re back,” Andrew observed. “I missed you.” Neil winked at him. “You were gone for fifteen minutes.” “Exactly!” Another kiss. And another, and a few more after that. Domestic bliss settled in Neil’s chest. He couldn’t believe how far they’d come. The night that Neil’s father had attacked them, the Mages from Headquarters had arrived, taken away the men that were still alive and thanked the group for taking down the biggest threat to magekind. They assured them there would be a trial and there would be consequences for the men that had a hand in all this. Neil was just relieved it was finally over. His father’s corpse and Lola’s body had been taken away to be buried in an unmarked grave. The cafe had been less fortunate. Bee, Abby and David had rushed home to a caved roof and a destroyed cafe interior. It was upsetting, to say the least however everything had turned out perfectly. Bee and Andrew had split the insurance money. According to the insurance company, the building interior was very weak and damaged which must have destroyed the roof. They were also given compensation by the Mage Headquarters for their efforts in taking down the Wesninski crime family. Bee had retired to a small bungalow a few blocks away from where the cafe had been. Andrew had purchased a small building with an apartment above it, similar to the original cafe. He’d asked Neil to move in with him and the two had opened up the ‘Which Witch?’ Cafe. Kevin worked in the kitchen, baking goods. Andrew worked the front and Neil dealt with the money and numbers to keep the cafe going. Nicky and Aaron were regular customers. Aaron had used his share of the cash to fund his medical school studies alongside his girlfriend, Katelyn. Nicky was opening a party planning business with his share and was hoping to move to Germany with his fiancee Eric. Neil had asked the investigators at the Headquarters about his Mother. They informed him she’d died three years ago, making a final stand against his father. He should have felt sad and angry but he knew that’s what she would have wanted, rather than suffering under his rule. A small meow brought Neil back to the present. His and Andrew’s cats, Sir and King were both looking at them from the floor. Neil walked around and collapsed on the couch, cuddling up alongside his boyfriend. Andrew kissed his forehead, gently carding his fingers through his auburn curls. Neil had nearly lost Andrew but their magic had been so intertwined he’d been able to use them to kick start his heart again. Aaron would make fun of them for believing in the whole ‘soulmate’ trope but Neil couldn’t help but believe it to be true. He’d give his life for Andrew, he’d saved his life and he’d saved Andrew’s. Neil never thought he would settle down with somebody but by some twist of fate, he’d landed on his feet. He looked at Andrew, smiling blissfully at him. He leaned down and kissed him, a slow, meaningful kiss, he hoped it would project everything he was feeling right now. He knew it had as soon as he saw the familiar glow of pink and purple light up the room. Andrew blushed and shrugged his shoulders causing Neil to laugh at him. He snuggled down for a cozy night in with the love of his life, Andrew’s arms surrounding him like a safety net. He sighed contently, letting his eyes close to the comforting sight of pink and purple.
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love101imagines · 4 years
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Somebody to someone
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(osman | imagine)
request: Heyy so umm I saw this TikTok that’s about this AU where when you turn a certain age you get to communicate with your soulmate telepathically and like I thought maybe you could wrote something for Osman based on it ?
tags: @imtoolazytothinkofacoolname @girl-looking-out-window
You had grown up hearing tales about soulmates and how wonderful it was to finally meet them. Once you turned 17, you would be able to hear everything your soulmate thought until you touched them. You thought it was a bit intrusive, but you didn’t mind, thinking about how romantic it would be.
Truth be told, you didn’t have to worry after all. You had a loving boyfriend who you had been dating since you were 16. His name was Mahir, and he was just perfect.
So, as you blew the candles in your seventeen birthday’s cake with your family surrounding you, you were ready to hear his voice.
As you went to bed, you knew your friends would gush all over you to tell them all about it, so you got into your bed and waited for something to happen, until you took matters into your own hands.
“Hello?” You thought.
Nothing happened in the beginning, so you assumed that Mahir was already sleeping, until a voice in your head snapped you out of it.
“We should just skip all of this and just say our names. I’m...”
“Wait!” You almost said out loud.
Your eyes widened as you paced back and forth in your bedroom.
“This can’t be happening. You’re not Mahir.”
“Who’s Mahir?” The unknown voice came up again and you groaned.
“He’s my boyfriend.”
“Lucky you.”
You rolled your eyes and fell into your bed.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to be my soultmate, what am I going to do now?”
You wanted nothing more than to crawl into your bed and eat something. You were being a bit dramatic, but it felt like your whole world had fallen apart. You had planned everything out, what your life would be like and now everything was different.
“It doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”
“What?” You thought furrowing your brows.
“You don’t have to tell him. Just fake it until he touches his real soulmate and it’s over.”
You scoffed. “Well, aren’t you the romantic type.”
Everything was silent for a while and you decided to call it a day. It was already exhausting and it had only been a few hours since you turned sixteen.
The next day at school, Mahir was waiting for you at the school’s gate. He gave you a kiss and you felt a bit relieved, but still knew that in some kind of way he would find out.
“Quick, let me guess. Now, you’re thinking about...what your friends’ gift is going to be.” He said to you grinning.
You pressed your lips into a line but acted happy. “Of course, silly. I bet they’re going to give me that book I wanted, or some lipglosses.”
He chuckled and you two walked into school, his hand holding yours. “Now you don’t have to worry about me knowing all the girly stuff you think about.” He said giving you a peck on your cheek.
You smiled at him and sat down on your desk, your friends right by your side giving you your presents, and for a moment, you forgot about your lie.
“So? Did you lie to him?”
You rolled your eyes even though your soulmate couldn’t see you.
“Yes...but I still think it’s wrong! I’m going to tell him later. It’s selfish, I shouldn’t lie about soulmates.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
You widened your eyes while you took notes of what the teacher was talking about. “Excuse me? You don’t care about soulmates?”
“Not really.”
“How can you be my soulmate?”
You continued your class doing your best to pay attention, even though you were still annoyed at the boy who was supposed to be your soulmate.
“And why don’t you care?” You found yourself thinking.
You waited for a few seconds until he answered. “I already have a lot of things to worry about and I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t be able to take you to fancy dates and all of that.”
“I don’t care.” You found yourself thinking while you doodled on your sheet of paper. A few moments passed and you were almost startled when you heard his voice again.
“So you’re not going to tell me your name?”
“No, this way it’s more romantic.” You stated like it was a golden rule. “Besides, it’s more fun this way. You already got it all planned for your love life so there’s really no rush on meeting.”
“You’re right. So, where do you live?”
“In Gebze, you?”
“Istanbul.”
You felt your mood change slightly. “Oh, well it’s not that far away. I used to live there a few years ago until my parents got some jobs offers here. Um, what are you doing now?”
“I’m in the middle of a history exam.”
“And you’re talking to me instead of doing the exam?”
“I already memorized the answers.”
“Good for you.”
You conversations with your “soulmate” didn’t stop there. You two kept talking since you were in each other’s minds almost all the time and you found him interesting and funny. You had a few things in common, despite living almost one hour apart, but it was still a bit addicting to talk to someone new and that nobody else could listen.
“Why are you thinking about Istanbul so much?” He asked you three months after your birthday.
You sighed, even though he couldn’t see you. “My grandma got sick and my parents are planning to move back there with the rest of my family.”
“If it makes you feel better, we might meet.”
You felt a small smile on your face as you washed the dishes on your house. “I thought you didn’t care about soulmates.”
“Maybe you made me change my mind.”
“I know that you say that you only think about yourself but that’s a lie. Most of the time you only think about money but you also think about your friends. And you can’t say that’s not true.”
“Well, you’re always thinking about the same song over and over again it’s exhausting.”
“I hate you.” You thought slightly chuckling.
“Doubt it.”
A few weeks later your family moved to Istanbul, and now here you were standing in front of a new school in the middle of the semester. You really didn’t care about being the new kid, you only cared about how much homework you had.
“You are going to do all of that?” The girl who you ended up sitting next to asked you.
You stared at all the new assignments teachers had given you since you hadn’t taken any of the exams the other students had.
“I have to do them in a week. Almost every teacher gave me something to do, except Miss Burcu.”
The girl shrugged. “Just buy the homework like everybody else does.”
You lifted a brow. “You sell homeworks here?”
“Go and ask him, that nerdy boy. Just tell him which ones you need and he’ll give them to you tomorrow when you pay him.” She said pointing a boy with glasses.
“This school is so weird.” You thought to yourself as you walked to the boy.
“Why? Did you end up in an all girls school?”
You rolled your eyes at your soulmate’s answer but talked to the boy. He would give you the ones you needed the most the next day for ₺20, but you still couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that somebody sold homeworks at your new school.
“Can you believe they trade homeworks here? I can’t believe I didn’t think of that...”
“Did you buy them?” He thought all of a sudden.
“Well, I had to...Why are you thinking about a list with names?”
“No reason.”
You didn’t think much of it and continued with all the projects you had to finish so you wouldn’t pull an all nighter.
The next day, as you waited near the school’s gates for your homework to be “delivered”, the same guy you had talked to the day before approached you.
“Here you go. No, you don’t pay me. Come, he wants to receive all the money today.” He said as you pulled the cash out of your wallet.
You furrowed your brows confused but still followed him as he lead the way to a classroom where a few boys were doing more homeworks and an older and taller guy watched them.
“Osman.” The boy with glasses called out.
As you pulled the money again from your wallet, you didn’t notice how the guy called Osman was looking at you.
“This better be worth it.” You thought as you extended the money.
“Did you say something?” Osman asked confused as your hand brushed lightly with his as you took the papers he was handing to you.
You furrowed your brows. “Excuse me?”
He shook his head. “Nothing, sorry.”
“See ya.” You said as you checked if the papers were fine.
The next day as you talked with Miss Burcu after class about the poem you had to write, as soon as you left the classroom you were approached by the girl you had sat with and a blonde one.
“Hi! I’m Işik and I’m the student representative. We heard that you just moved here and we know how hard it is to make friends in a new city.” The blonde one said with a big smile.
“We are pretty sure we know your soulmate.” The brown haired said all of a sudden.
“Eda! It was going to be a surprise.” Işik complained.
You were not expecting this for your second week at school. “How do you know about him?” You asked as you walked down the halls with them by your side.
“He’s friends with us.” Işik explained.
“And he told us his soulmate was new at school and had an ex boyfriend called Mahir. Besides, yesterday he stopped hearing his soulmate’s thoughts just as he handed in a homework.” Eda said as you sat down on a bench.
“It’s so romantic. He’s the oldest so he was the first one to turn seventeen.” Işik said dreamily.
You started chipping at your nail polish to do something with your hands and calm your nerves. “So, you’re saying that my soulmate is the guy who sells homeworks?”
Both girls slowly nodded, still unsure of the whole situation.
“I’ll go and talk to him.” You said standing up.
Eda and Işik looked at each other before following you.
“He never said his name to you?” Işik asked as you walked around the halls looking for the boy.
You shook your head. “I didn’t want to. Besides, we lived in different cities.”
“He did say that you lived in Gebze.” Eda added.
“That’s true.” You said glancing at her before jumping into someone. “Sorry, I...you are him.” You said once you noticed you had bumped into the tall guy who had sell you your homework.
Eda and Işik smiled at each other, happy with their work before they left.
“You’re the girl who touched my hand and all of a sudden I couldn’t hear my soulmate anymore.” He pointed out with a smirk as he ate a hazelnut.
You rolled your eyes. “I’m your soulmate, I thought you were smart enough to already figure it out.”
He seemed to think for a moment before speaking. “Holy shit, you’re my soulmate.”
You couldn’t really stop smiling and blushing, so you just chuckled as the bell rang. “I can’t believe we finally met.”
“It was about time.” He said as you two walked to class.
And that how you went from being heartbroken for moving to finally meeting your soulmate, exactly the romantic way you wanted.
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diyunho · 4 years
Text
The Joker x Reader -”What Death Tastes Like” Part 4
Scarecrow’s daughter might be only 22, yet the terminal lung cancer she was diagnosed with six months ago didn’t discriminate against her age; the young woman didn’t show worrisome symptoms until it was too late. Y/N always had a fascination for the much older King of Gotham and despite the consequences, maybe it’s finally time to do something about it.
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Part 1      Part 2      Part 3      Part 5
Your Birthday
“Look at him, parading like a rooster!” Emma elbows you, huffing.
The Joker is on the terrace, nosing inside the coolers to find his favorite grape juice brand since he knows it should be in there somewhere. He’s sporting very dark purple pants and a much lighter shade purple shirt, fitted on his body to perfection plus two gold chains around his neck which makes one wonder why he didn’t add more giving his sense of fashion.
You pile up some fruits on your plate, gazing The Clown’s way with a smirk:
“Those trousers make his butt stand out.”
“That’s probably the reason for wearing them,” Emma sighs and you both burst up laughing, amused at the truth she admitted aloud.
“I feel this lustful desire of spanking him,” you blur out. “I bet your dad only unbuttoned half of his shirt because he obviously wants me to unbutton the other half: that sexy rooster can frizzle my feathers anytime he wishes,” you tease and she covers your mouth in a hurry.
“Y/N, can you not?!”
“Sssttt, you’ll wake up the baby,” the muffled sentence distracts Emma and she lets go, apologizing to the five weeks old:
“Oh, sorry angel,” she lingers over the baby basket placed on the empty table next to the self-serve buffet: Frost’s son is napping under the umbrella while his parents mingle for a little bit with the guests that already arrived at your birthday party. How did Jonny end up here? The crazy motive: his employer is to blame for the mess he created one hour ago, already fixed due to your sense of urgency.
The Joker showed up in time at 3pm for his “date” like you instructed; you opened the door and he immediately handed you a car sit containing the tiny human.
“Happy Birthday, Y/N!”
“Ummm…thank you,” the hesitant Y/N invited him inside.
“I got you a present,” he widely grinned, confident nobody else came up with a better gift idea.
“… Whose baby is this?!...” you followed him, carefully walking with the adorable bundle in the living room; the sleeping treasure fussed for a few seconds and went back to dreaming, unaware he was away from his parents.
“Frost’s,” J answered and you turned towards the entrance, baffled.
“I’ll go open the door for him then.”
“That’s not necessary; he didn’t come with me.”
“What do you mean?!”
“He’s off today. I just went to his house to drop up some ammo, then sneaked in the nursery and took the baby.”
“And his parents were ok with that?!” you crinkled your nose, more and more suspicious regarding his behavior.
“They don’t know,” The King of Gotham calmly informed.
“You kidnapped Frost’s son?!”
“I didn’t kidnap him,” J rolled his eyes, offended at your accusation. “I took him.”
“Without his parents’ consent. So you kidnapped him!” you gasped at the insane revelation.
“I’m in charge,” The Joker logic surfaced instantly. “I don’t require consent! Why are you staring at me like this?”
“I keep on hoping you’re bluffing,” you cringed at his argument. “Give me your phone!” you ordered and the item was shortly in your possession, although you had to witness a lot of grievance from his part as you searched for Frost’s digits.
Praise heavens you did since his wife was absolutely hysterical when you called: their offspring was missing from the cradle and Jonny might not be the type of person that panics, yet he had a total nervous breakdown.
They were fast to come and pick up Evan, so yeah… that’s how The Frosts ended up at your birthday bash… Full credit goes to their amazing boss!
*************
After one hour
“Do me a favor,” your father continues his conversation with J. “I want you to check with your contacts and try to find more Cromyxillium for me; I’m in desperate need.”
“Don’t you have enough for Y/N?” The Joker growls at the view of Bane’s son entertaining himself with you and Emma.
“For now. Tomorrow I’m starting her on full therapy; I found a new formula to bind the molecules together, this way her system won’t reject the medicine like it did last week. It will make her sick but I’ll be here to supervise the entire process.”
“Aren’t you afraid it will kill her?” J’s sensitive personality comes to full bloom in the best of moments.
Jonathan Crane is silent, then articulates painful facts he can’t avoid sharing:
“I am… I don’t have any other options on such a short amount of time…My daughter is fading… her lungs are finished…” and he gulps, straining to regain composure. “If this experimental drug can restore damaged tissue, it can aid with her cancer… She agreed to the test because I’m a super smart dad,” he grumbles. “That’s what she said…that I’m a super smart… I might be… I don’t even know if my remedy will work or if it will speed up her demise.”
“Fine, I’ll inquire on the product,” The Joker agrees. “What’s in for me?”
Your father takes a deep breath, exasperated.
“What do you want?”
“Excuse me,” The King of Gotham interrupts. “I think my pride’s at stake: somebody’s attempting to steal my date!” he inflates his chest and finds it imperative to notify the puzzled parent. “Y/N’s my date, didn’t she tell you? I was strictly forbidden to bring Mara so I had to maintain my reputation somehow.”
“What reputation??!!! She mentioned it and I thought the whole idea meant only you being obnoxious!” Jonathan huffs.
“I am obnoxious!” The Joker sourly admits and crushes the large group forming due to Sam’s entertaining abilities.
“Hey Y/N, where’s the grape juice?” he finds a random pretext to get your attention as you gesture towards the end of the terrace.
“There’s a bunch on ice,” you giggle at Sam’s story and J lies:
“I couldn’t find any.”
“Maybe someone moved it,” you detach from the gathering and stroll with him in the area you saw what he’s asking for.
“Who gave you that pendant?” The Clown Prince of Crime investigates since you definitely didn’t have the jewelry earlier.
“Sam,” you touch the delicate diamond heart attached to the platinum chain. “It’s so pretty, I love it.”
“He scored major points with the birthday girl, huh?” J mocks.
“Well, apparently some people are aware of my preferences and some give me presents I can’t keep,” you hint and The Joker comprehends what you aim at.
“My gift was brilliant! You said that if we would have gotten married we would have had a bunch of kids, thus it means you adore them. That’s why I brought Evan.”
“Yeah, and his parents already took him home, leading to the reasonable conclusion we can assess from the fiasco: you actually don’t have a present for me. Oh, would you look at this: grape juice!” you sarcastically show him the huge pile of containers exactly where it’s supposed to be.
“How did I miss this?” J pretends to be shocked and sneers when he notices Bane’s son coming near you two. “Dance with me!” he unexpectedly sweeps you in his arms. “It’s a slow song, just move your feet,” he encourages. “What do you want for your birthday then?” Emma’s dad distracts the astonished Y/N furthermore.
“Hmmm… I can settle for a kiss?” you unconsciously caress the short hair on the back of his head while he quickly pecks your cheek. “Um… if I wanted a jellyfish sting I could have went to the aquarium,” you sassily react and The Joker rolls his eyes. “I want a proper kiss, unless you have those reserved for Mara.”
“Why are we talking about my girlfriend?”
“On and off girlfriend,” you emphasize. “A huge indicator you don’t care that much about her. You need a woman that genuinely loves you; she’s a catalyst fueling your tendencies, you don’t need that! You don’t fight fire with fire, OK?” you almost shout and ironically enough he decides to engage in your speech.
“What do you fight it with then?”
“Dynamite!” you proudly state. “Blow up everything, wipe the slot clean and start fresh!”
“A-ah…A-ha…”, he mischievously agrees. “I assume you’re the dynamite in this scenario?” the silver grimace spreads across his face.
“Perhaps.”
“Why is Bane’s son here?” The Joker changes the subject. “He keeps lurking around and it annoys me.”
“Don’t be jealous,” you mislead him on purpose. “Sam was my boyfriend in high school,” you brief your so called partner. “I’m fond of him.”
“Why would I be jealous?!” The King’s mood switches and you realize yours is also: the sole detail he’s interested in is to emphasize zero attraction for his daughter’s friend.
“Yeah…why would you be jealous?...” you sadly smile and let go before the song ends. “Listen, I have to return to my guests, alright? You don’t have to stay; you should go back to your fire because you certainly don’t know what to do with dynamite,” the meaningful reply leaves him intrigued again: no cocky response to your clever twist in words since he already lost the passive-aggressive altercation.
************
9:49pm  
You gaze at the starry sky, cozy on the inflatable mattress; the mesh on top of the tent is so thin you can hardly tell it’s there. Very quiet in the garden… you should have went to the river with the others, yet you felt the urge to be alone and rest before you reprise your treatment tomorrow.
“Y/N, are you in here?” The Joker’s voice is heard.
“No!” you grouchily snarl.
He unzips the tent and squeezes inside, obeying to your protest:
“Close it! I don’t want bugs in here!”
“I’m hiding from Crane, he made me do a bunch of stuff in preparation for your Cromyxillium therapy!” J complains to indifferent ears.
“I thought you bailed hours ago,” you coldly articulate.
“I was held prisoner in the underground lab! You should be thankful for my services.”
“You don’t do anything for free and I’m sure you’re over exaggerating anyway!”
“Whatever!” The Joker drops on the mattress next to you, deeply exhaling. “I’m beat; I’ll rest for a bit before I drive.”
You rest your fingers on your tummy, struggling to remain calm.
“I missed hanging out with my cuddling buddy,” J nozzles in your shoulder and you give him an insolent glare.
“We’re not cuddling buddies!”
“That’s too bad; I precisely came to deliver your birthday present. I resent the notion of a man unjustly accused of being cheap.”
“What birthday present?” you furrow your eyebrows.
“The kiss you demanded Y/N!”
“I’m good,” you disregard his offer and he hovers over you, captivated.
“I thought you have the hots for me, I even wore these hoochie pants to please you. I mean, I endured your affection and harassment for the past three years. I’m here now with an invisible olive branch so I think you should reconsider your answer.”
“Did you just say hoochie pants?!” you snicker at his distorted apology although you’re mad at him. “You didn’t wear them for me; you wanted to show off your assets!”
“It’s not my fault I’m handsome!” The Joker defends his wardrobe choice.
“I seriously want to be alone,” you indirectly imply he should disappear. “I’m tired of playing games. I won’t flirt with you anymore, I promise. Deal?” you lift your pinky up and there’s something strange concealed behind your abrupt vow.
“Why not?”
“First of all, I won’t have the energy: my father warned of serious consequences during the treatment. Second, it might kill me: we don’t know how my physique will endure; I have terminal cancer, remember?”
“Are you scared?” J whispers and you nod a yes, upset. “Then you should accept your gift in case you won’t have another occasion,” his rationale pushes you to reconsider your alternatives.
You pull him closer and wait, explaining your hesitation.
“It’s my birthday, you should be the one kissing me.”
The Joker doesn’t defy your logic and complies, unable to suppress an arrogant grin when you moan:
“God, your lips are so soft; I could kiss them all day.”
“Don’t get into it, I have to vacate the premises soon. I don’t want Crane to catch me in your tent and presume the worst.”
“My dad will be in the lab until morning time; you can stay if you want to,” you trace his jaw line, momentarily forgetting your grudge.
“Didn’t you preach about wishing to be alone?”
“Why are you making out with another woman besides your girlfriend?” you evaluate the waters with a question.
It doesn’t seem he’ll bother to justify his behavior thus you utter:
“I can be alone…with you. I’m 23, literally a consenting adult,” the important information is added for the heck of it.
“Consenting to what?” The Joker mumbles as you softly bite his lower lip.
“I hate you,” you pout and snuggle to him while he grabs a pillow, irritated at his involuntary reaction. J stuffs it in between the bodies and you swiftly toss it away.
“Are you trying to get me in trouble Y/N?”  
“You’re always in trouble,” you begin unbuttoning his shirt. “Let’s go with the flow, shall we? No strings attached, no commitments. You know why?” you pause and continue. “I might not survive the Cromyxillium and I want to make love to the old guy I have a major crush on.”
“Old?!” The Clown prince of Crime scoffs.
“You’re basically twice my age,” you roughly estimate without proof and kiss him again. The Joker slides his hands under your t-shirt, opting to dismiss your affirmation with a different kind of truth.
“Do you recall when you asked me if I ever tasted death?”
“Yes…”, you bury your face in his neck, wondering if he’ll say something mean that will ruin the night.  
“You don’t taste like death,” J forces you to look at him. “You really don’t.”
“… … … … … … …  You think so?” the emotional Y/N sniffles, categorically surprised at the confession.
“Yeah. You actually taste like dynamite,” he winks and doesn’t mind the sudden meltdown: The Joker is not big at comforting people, but the girl in his arms feels relieved nevertheless.
She might not compare to the fire he’s used to, yet Y/N’s eagerness to blow up everything, wipe the slot clean and start fresh is unfamiliar territory that’s worth exploring.    
  Also read: MASTERLIST
59 notes · View notes
zayray030 · 4 years
Text
Misunderstandings are Disastrous.
Summary: Oliver is a good person. He really is. So he doesn't understand why he's comforting a drunk Iris who thinks her husband's cheating on her. He's gonna kill Barry. OR Barry and the others have been acting really wierd for a month and Iris rightfully jumps to conclusions.
How did Oliver ever get put into these situations. He was a good man. Sure me might have killed a few people and cheated on a couple of people, but at the end of the day he tried his hardest to be a good person.
Do that's why he was extremely confused on why he was consulting an extremely drunk Iris about her place in Barry's life.
“I'm sure he loves you Iris. Why would you think otherwise?” Oliver asked, trying to get to the source of the problem. He's sure by the time Iris has finished he would be able to dig up at least 50 different times where Barry gushed about Iris, at least.
“Well it started a month ago…”
~A month ago~
“Hey babe!” Iris greeted happily when she saw Baeey in the kitchen. She had just come back from C.C Citizen and she really wanted to see her husband again.
“Oh, hey Iris. What are you doing here?” asked Barry distractedly, not looking up from his phone. Iris frowned slightly at his tone before smiling again and soldering on.
“Well I just got back from jitters after writing a really long article on the newest crime sprees that the Flash had stopped and I really wanted to come cuddle with my husband!” she said excitedly but Barry still hadn't looked up from his screen. “Barry?”
“Oh, um yeah, that's nice. Listen Iris, I have to go somewhere. I'll see you tonight.” said Barry before getting up and walking out. He hadn't even given her a kiss goodbye.
Iris just shook her head, thinking it was nothing and maybe he was recovering from another meta attack. Oh well, they'll cuddle tonight.
~A week after that incident~
“Hello, this is Barry. Please leave a message.” came Barry's voice from the phone. Iris sighed again and let her phone drop on the counter of Jitters. Iris had been acting weird all week and he had been ignoring all her calls and Iris was starting to get worried. Was he being mind controlled?
Suddenly, Iris heard the sound of the door opening and when she turned around she saw a very beautiful woman walking in and she couldn't believe who was behind her. Barry.
Iris felt something stir up in her chest but she pushed it down. Now was not the time to tune in with her emotions. She quickly looked around the room and saw a hidden spot where they wouldn't be able to see her but she would be able to and sat there.
Iris felt her heart crack the more she sat there and watched Barry talk to the beautiful woman and laugh with her. Insecurity shot up in her and so did jealousy but she squashed them down. Barry would never cheat on her. He was too loving for that. But Iris couldn't help but think of those times where Barry seemed almost bored with her and she felt her eyes stinging with unshed tears. She rubbed at her eyes quickly. No! She would not jump to conclusions about her loyal husband!
But Iris couldn't help but feel her heart crack even more when she saw Barry give the woman a hug longer than strictly necessary and saw the woman kiss his cheek. Iris held back a sob until Barry walked out with a woman and only then did she bring her hands to her face and sob.
~A week after that~
“Sorry Iris, but today is meta day.” said Cisco sadly as he and everyone else got ready to go out in town.
“Find a really cute girl that Barry told us about,” said Ralph. Frost slapped him over the head. Or maybe it was Caitlin. Who knows?
“Oh?” Iris said quietly, taking a step back from everyone hurt and betrayal rippling through her.
“What this dumbass means is that we're just going to pick some clothes that we can wear without our powers getting in the way and Barry met this really nice woman who can make clothes like nobody's business.” said Frost, with her usual cold tone but it was surprisingly gentle when directed at Iris.
“Yeah, what the ice lady said. Plus, I really want to buy some more jackets.” added Allegra.
“Okay, that's cool. Um, have a nice day.” said Iris awkwardly as everyone walked out to the elevator. While Iris was walking away she heard something that caught her ears so she stayed back slightly.
“Christ that was close.” muttered Cisco.
“Next time don't be so obvious. Barry doesn't want Iris to know and I agree. She deserves it.” snapped Frost.
“Yeah! Don't ruin it. He doesn't want her to know until the last minute possible and we're going to respect that.” agreed Allegra and Iris could imagine the small glare she must have on.
“I'm sorry but I feel weird when I lie to Iris.it doesn't feel natural.” argued Ralph.
“Well Joe, Wally, Cecile, Jackie and Kamilla are willing to do it so pull one for the team, Ralph!” said Cisco as the elevator doors closed.
Iris felt her heart crack again at knowing the fact that her own family and friends were willing to sit back and watch her husband go behind her back. Iris knew she shouldn't be jumping to conclusions but it was getting harder and harder to be able to deny the fact that her husband might be cheating on her.
After all, the evidence and the strange interactions have been proof enough that maybe, just maybe, that Barry is cheating on her and the others are supporting this. Iris quickly ran to the canteen and flopped down on one of the couches and sobbed her heart out at this new revelation.
~Currently~
“... and other odd things have been happening across star labs and whenever I hang out with the others they're just so secretive and they keep sending me these looks and - and-” and Iris could no longer keep her tears in and sobbed out.
Oliver quickly put an arm around and tried to soothe her like he would soothe Thea when she got scared, nervous or upset and let her cry on his shoulder.
“It's going to be okay, Iris.” he said softly while also vowing to kill Barry for his stupidity. “I'm going to need you to take this drink for me. It'll make you sober but won't give you a hangover.” he said gently as he took out a small vial full of red liquid.
Iris nodded slightly, still sniffling slightly and drowned the drink in one go. Oliver looked into her eyes and saw her pupils go back to their normal color and huffed out a breath of relief.
“Hey, you better now?” he asked gently.
“No.” she answered and Oliver could understand that. He just wished that Barry could think twice before he did something dumb like this again. It's as if anything Oliver taught him went through one ear and out the other.
“Understandable. Come on let's go.”he said gently before calling over a waiter to pay the check. Iris didn't protest like she usually would and just stood up and shivered slightly, her shirt dress and heels doing nothing to keep her warm. Oliver shrugged off his jacket and placed it around her shoulder.
“Can we go to star labs first? I left my laptop there by accident.” she said. Oliver nodded secretly elated that he was finally going to where he wanted Iris to be in the first place.
After Oliver had paid for all of Iris's drinks they quickly got into his limo and drove off. For the most part of it Iris was quite apart from the occasional hiccup and Oliver just kept bouncing his legs, nervous. With how bad the others had been he was sure it was going to be a complete disaster.
When they got to star labs Iris briskly walked in, wanting to get out of there as quick as possible and went straight to the Canteen
It was completely dark when they walked in and Oliver held his breath as Iris switched the light on.
“SURPRISE!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY IRIS!!!!” Everyone screamed the moment the light was turned on. Iris jumped back, fear in her eyes, but it quickly disappeared as she saw the scene.
There was a huge banner that said ‘Happy birthday to Iris Ann West Allen’ in big, bright, bold colours and there were steamers all around along with cakes and candy all on plates. The normally pristine area was filled with so much decoration and there was a mounting of presents on a table at the corner of the room. Drinks were placed everywhere and all her friends where crowded around the front.
“Do you know how long I've waited?” asked Cisco as he sighed a sigh of relief. Oliver just shook his head thinking over and over that this was a bad idea.
“Iris?” Barry asked when he noticed his wife had gone silent. Everyone had turned to the small woman and they could see tears collecting in her eyes.
“So you aren't cheating on me?” she asked quietly. Everyone paused in their laughter and turned to stare at her. Why did she think that?
“What? Of course not, Iris! Why would you think that?” asked Barry speeding over to his wife and tilting her chin upwards. Oliver shook his head again and groaned quietly in his hands.
“You kept on ignoring me and when you did talk to me you sounded so cold and dismissive and you guys kept avoiding me and I saw you hang out with a pretty women and ignore my calls and I saw her kiss your cheeks and i-” Iris lost the battle with her tears and started sobbing in her husbands chest.
Over Barry's shoulder, Oliver could see everyone's guilty and ashamed faces.
“Iris, baby, I so desperately wanted to tell you about this but they wouldn't let me talk to you. They even had to lock me over on Cynthia's earth just to keep me quiet. I so desperately wanted to call you and give you all the attention you deserve but they took my phone away and knocked me out.” said Barry to his wife, soothing her doubts away. Well, most of her doubts anyway. It'll take more than a few words.
“Oh.” she said quietly, but tears were still streaming down her face.
“We're so sorry Iris. But if Barry was cheating on you, which he isn't, I would never stand by him. I would tell you straight away and post every ugly picture I have of him in the Citizen.” said Kamilla, coming to her sister figure and giving her a hug.
“And plus, I would burn his face off.” added Allegra, joining into the hug.
Slowly everyone began giving Iris apologies and telling her one hundred percent that if Barry tried anything with her they would without a doubt, one hundred percent, end his existence.
By the end of it the only person not in the hug was Oliver but Iris fixed that soon enough by pulling out a blind arm and waving it around signalling him to come over and dragging him over.
“Now come on, birthday day girl! It's time for you to party and dance the night away!” cheered Sara pulling Iris to the dance floor and Iris let out a small giggle and soon mostly everyone was on the dance floor.
“How the fuck do I make this up to her?” Barry quietly asked Oliver, Kara and Kata
“It's going to take time. A few words can't change what she's thought about for a month. Therapy is a good idea and reminding her you love her every time you talk to her. And also, when throwing her a surprise party, don't you dare ignore her.” said Oliver. He had recently begun to see Iris as a sister and he wasn't going to stand around and see her upset.
“I mean I got her tickets to go to the best spa in America so I think it's best to think that maybe she needs a good day to relax with friends.” said Kate, as if she was challenging Oliver. Oliver just scoffed and smirked.
“Well I got her a free day to whatever thing she what's from the Queen beauty spa.” countered Oliver and before those two could get into a fight Kara stepped in between them.
“Oh, no, no, no. This day is Iris's special day and none of us is going to ruin it. We already ruined her month by making her think that Barry was going to cheat on her. So Barry, a way Iris could forgive you is if you put your speed to use.” said Kara not realising the double meaning to it until Oliver and Kate cracked up. “Oh, shut it.” she snapped.
“Anyway, what Kara said. You're practically a human vibrator. Put that to use for her birthday gift and make sure she stays happy. After that we're all going to grovel at her feet like dogs for ruining her mental state.” Kara finally got out after she'd finished laughing.
“Couples dance!” yelled Cisco dragging Kamilla to the dance floor. Barry sped over to his wife and danced with her. Everyone's eyes were kept on the couple and they felt their eyes glisten. Those two have gone through so much, they deserved this little money between them.
The night was spent partying and dancing with Iris opening up presents and everyone apologising. The ones who couldn't get drunk kept an eye out for everyone. By the time the night was over Iris had happy tears in her eyes and most of her worries had subsided. Her feet ached and all she wanted was a night with her husband.
“Come on, let's go. Let me give you your present.” he whispered into her ear and she could see Kara blush bright red from where she was talking to Oliver and Kate.
“Yay.” she said quietly and he quickly picked her up bridal style and ran out with her. Iris faintly heard everyone calling them goodbye and she relaxed into her husband's chest.
He opened up their dorr and gently ran then to their bedroom and gently placed her on the bed.
“Let me show you just how much I love you, baby.” he whispered into her ear and Iris just nodded before gasping softly.
Maybe an entire month of worrying whether your husband was going to cheat on you wasn't good but Iris couldn't deny the after effect was very nice.
At least that's what she told herself when she woke up to her naked body sore all over and her husband's smug smirk.
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a strange and savage home
They get drinks, and it’s... well, it’s really weird. And awkward. And terrifying. But also, strangely, almost nice. Spongebob Trivia is involved.
The pub is clean and cozy and warmly lit. It’s still early, and Jon is relieved to find the place mostly deserted when they arrive. Basira pushes past the handful of customers to claim a booth, and Daisy heads towards the bar to grab menus. Jon hesitates for a moment, torn between the two. He waits a beat too long to follow Daisy and ends up edging after Basira, feeling foolish and awkward and unreasonably afraid to speak to Basira alone.
She’s already seated by the time he makes it back. He notices that she has positioned herself very carefully, with her back to the wall and a good view of the bathroom and the entrance and the bar. He decides it’s best not to mention her wary, measuring gaze and instead sits opposite, with his back to the door. He’ll probably Know if anything’s coming up behind him. Hopefully. If not – well. There are worse ways to go.  
He wonders if he should say something to Basira and decides that he probably should. Then he wonders what he should say and decides that he has absolutely no idea. Then he wonders if he’s already waited too long to say anything and decides that he probably has. It would be too awkward to start a conversation now.  And he still has no idea what he would actually say. Lovely weather? How ‘bout those football scores? Sorry that I keep accidentally reading your mind?  He settles for avoiding her gaze and shifting uncomfortably in his seat until Daisy arrives, dropping menus on the table and squeezing in beside Basira.
She seems to notice the tension immediately. The menu provides Jon with a momentary shield from Daisy’s exasperated looks, but there’s only so long you can stare at a list of chips and beer before you have to make a decision. The waitress arrives far too soon for Jon to make the most of his temporary distraction, and takes away the menus, leaving him alone with nothing to protect him from Basira’s distrust and Daisy’s pointed looks.
Daisy’s the one that breaks the silence, in the end. “I didn’t drag you two out here to stare at each other miserably. We are gonna spend the night drinking and talking and bein’ normal. So stop it. Now. Basira, Jon is not trying to do you in over drinks.”
“I’m not trying to do you in at all!”
“And Jon, you can stop being weird.”
“I’m not doing anything!” Jon tries to protest.
“You’re being quiet and mope-y. We came here specifically so you could stop being mope-y. So… do something else. Talk. Drink. Find a cute stranger to go home with.”
Jon feels himself blushing. “That’s really not my thing.”
“Talking?”
He wants to bang his head onto the table. Repeatedly. “Cute strangers.” He hesitates, reconsidering. “But also talking, I suppose.”
Basira snorts. The drinks arrive. Daisy saves them both from talking by launching into a story about a case, a completely mundane, completely non-sectioned case, and it’s funny and good and Jon finds himself laughing alongside Basira as Daisy gets up for more drinks. He feels normal for the first time in… weeks, really, more normal than he has since waking up from the coma. He does end up talking to Basira about the weather (she hasn’t noticed it), and the football scores (she doesn’t follow football), and it’s a bit awkward but not too terrible (he also hasn’t noticed the weather and also doesn’t care much about football, so they have that in common at least). They skirt around work-related topics and it feels like neither one of them is saying quite what they mean, but Jon thinks it might be a good start. It feels like a normal conversation between normal co-workers, a normal night at a normal pub.
Of course, as soon as he thinks this, things quickly become not-normal.
Daisy arrives with another round of drinks – his third, he realizes – and as he finishes it off Jon realizes that he’s not in the least bit buzzed. This realization is immediately accompanied by another, significantly more disappointing realization. He puts down his drink and interrupts Basira’s account of a drug bust gone wrong.
“I don’t… I don’t think I can get drunk.”
Daisy bursts out laughing. “What, really?” She may already be a bit tipsy.
“I’m usually a bit of a light-weight. But I’m not feeling anything right now. Maybe it’s like, you know.” He doesn’t really know how to say this. Doesn’t really want to say it, except that it feels important, so he glances around the bar and lowers his voice. “Maybe it’s like an avatar thing?”
It sounds even stupider when he says it out loud than it did in his head, but Basira seems concerned by the question. “Jon, do you… do you Know that?”
“Um. I don’t know. I think so? It’s hard to tell, sometimes.”
Basira looks even more concerned. “What would that even mean?”
Jon shrugs, trying to ignore the pressure of knowledge building against the door in his brain. He could know exactly what it means, he could… but he doesn’t want to. He squints his eyes and pushes it away. At least, he tries to. A bit dribbles in, despite his best efforts.
“I think it’s because, well… I heal fast now.”
Basira nods. “The scalpel wound.”
“And the ribs.”
“Right.”
“Well, that might – possibly – extend to alcohol. It is technically a poison. My body might be… healing itself before I can feel the effects.”
Daisy leans forward. “And you don’t know if you know that because of your spooky mind powers?”
He hesitates. “I’m almost certain I know that because of my ‘spooky mind powers.’ I just… well. They haven’t been entirely reliable all the time. Sometimes, I think I know something but I don’t really Know it, or I Know something but I don’t realize I know it… it’s confusing.” He stares at the table as he speaks, not wanting to meet their eyes. They’d been having such a nice night, such a normal night, before he had to go and remind them of this Otherness, remind them that he is not human, that he is a monster and that he won’t ever really be able to –
Daisy interrupts his thoughts with another laugh. “Jonathon Sims. We are in a strict no-moping zone. We already talked about this.”
“I just found out that I can’t get drunk! I think I’m entitled to – ”
“You’re not entitled to anything, monster-boy. You don’t think you can get drunk?”
“I’m fairly certain, yeah.”
Daisy grins and motions the waitress over. “Well, there’s only one way to find out.”
And that’s how Jon finds himself staring at eight shots, lined up on the table in a neat row.
Basira still looks uncertain. “You know, if you’re wrong about this, that amount of alcohol could kill you. Or hospitalize you, at least.”
Jon takes the first shot. He doesn’t feel anything. “I’m pretty sure I can’t die.”
Basira’s lips quirk up at that, and Daisy laughs. “Jonathon Sims. Finally defeated by the horror of work drinks.”
“Work drinks are scary!” He takes another shot. He doesn’t feel anything.
Daisy is still laughing. “You’d think they are, from the way you shuffled in here an hour ago! You hid behind your menu for fifteen minutes!”
“I was thinking about my order!” He takes another shot. He doesn’t feel anything.
“You were avoiding us.” Basira says it matter-of-factly, without a hint of malice, but it still makes him bristle as he picks up the fourth glass. Daisy gets to tease him, but Basira?
“You’ve been avoiding me for weeks!” He takes another shot. “Not you, Daisy. But Basira! I woke up and you left me all alone!”
Basira goes very still. “How do you figure that?”
“You’ve made it very clear that you don’t trust me!” He takes another shot. “And don’t like me!” Another shot. “And don’t want me to be alive!” Another. “You left me alone! And I woke up different and wrong and with nobody to talk to and nobody to help me and I’m sorry you can’t trust anyone, I really am, but I have been there and done that and it does not work, it does not help anything, it didn’t help me and it didn’t help Tim and it didn’t help Sasha and it didn’t help Martin and – ”
“Jon.” He realizes with a start that Daisy is sitting next to him, grabbing his arm. When did she get there? The world is spinning. “Jon, you need to quiet down.”
The rest of the bar is watching them, he can feel it on the back of his neck, or maybe that’s just the Watcher that is always watching him. Or is he the Watcher that is always watching them? Maybe it’s both. All three? He feels a sudden, overwhelming need to be as unobtrusive as possible.
“Sorry.” He says it as quietly as he can. Maybe that was too quiet. He raises his voice a little. “Sorry.”
Daisy grimaces. “Yeah, I heard you the first time.” This strikes Jon as hilariously funny, although he can’t quite articulate why. Something about the way her eyebrows scrunch up. He dissolves into giggles as she pulls on his arm.
“Okay, Sims, you were really, spectacularly wrong on the whole can’t-get-drunk thing. Let’s get you out of here before you hurl. Or make Basira any angrier than she already is.”
She nudges him out of the booth, which is fine, the world is spinning pleasantly, and then she tries to make him stand up, which is not fine, and now the world is spinning unpleasantly. His brain is doing funny things, expanding and contracting in unpredictable ways, and he thinks he may have misplaced the door in his mind but then he realizes he can feel the door, he can feel it everywhere, and he can’t tell if it’s open or shut but either way there is a lot of information flowing everywhere at once, and his mouth is parroting what he knows an instant after he Knows it.
“Chelsea – that woman, near the door – is celebrating her birthday today. She’s told her friends she’s 39, but she’s lying, she’s really turning 43. One of the bartenders has been stealing money out of the tip jar for the past four months. He’s saving to buy a new TV. My blood alcohol content is 0.4035882352941177. That’s a lot, I think. Yeah, that’s definitely enough alcohol to kill me. Or, not me. A person, enough to kill a human person in general. Martin! He’s a human person. D’you know, he’s been sleeping in Elias’s office? He’s there right now, we could go see him! The first episode of SpongeBob SquarePants aired May 1st, 1999.”
That last one seems important for some reason. He thinks he should probably yell it out, in case someone didn’t hear him. “MAY FIRST, 1999!”
The Watched feeling is getting stronger, so he Watches back. A staring contest!
Basira is suddenly on his other arm, forcing him back into a seated position.
“Jon. Stop it! Stop… stop Looking at the whole bar.”
He doesn’t understand what she’s saying. Stop Looking? He could just as soon stop existing.
He focuses on her face, and that does seem to stop the Watching. Or maybe narrow it down? He’s looking at Basira, now, instead of the whole pub. She’s worried. Not angry. Was she angry a second ago? He can’t remember. The universe slows to a lazy roll as he sits. “I feel weird.”
“Yeah, that would be the eight shots in the space of two minutes. Jesus, Jon, you really better be right about your healing factor, or this night is going to end very badly.”
He’s having trouble forming any coherent thought other than: “I don’t want to go to the hospital again.”
“Yeah, we don’t want to take you to the hospital again.”
The hospital looms in his mind. “It’s cold and smells funny and there’s nothing to watch but dreams. I don’t like watching the dreams. And everything’s different when you come back, not good-different, bad-different, and Tim is dead and Martin’s gone and – ”
Daisy sits down on his other side. “Take a breath, Jon. We’re not going to the hospital.”
She’s close – too close – too-close-i-can’t-breath – and Jon tries to scoot away, but he bumps into Basira on his other side. He’s sandwiched between the two, and for a second it’s too tight, too tight, but then he remembers they’re people and not dirt and they can’t hurt him. And then he remembers he’s not in The Buried, he’s in a pub, and he’s sitting between his two co-workers and he definitely just lost control of… well, of everything. The world snaps back into focus as quickly as it first spun out of control, and the door in his mind stays open long enough to supply him with the knowledge of exactly what just happened before he musters the energy to slam it shut against the tide of information. He slumps.
“Oh god.”
“Back to normal, then?” Daisy’s eyebrow quirks upwards.
“I’m… wow.”
“Yup. That was… yeah.”
He plants his forehead firmly on the table. There are no words. There really are no words. What are you supposed to say when your boss gets drunk and loses control of his terrifyingly inhuman powers? What are you supposed to say when you are the boss and you’ve just gotten drunk and lost control of your terrifying inhuman powers?
Daisy’s the one to break the awkward silence. “Soooo. The good news is that you can get drunk.”
“And the bad news is I that never, ever should get drunk.”
“Yeah, that about covers it.”
His head is on fire. “I have the worst hangover of my life.”
Basira passes him a glass of water. “Wait two minutes. I’m sure your superpowers will kick in.”
“They’re not superpowers.” Jon can’t quite muster the energy to drink it, but he presses the cool glass against his forehead and closes his eyes.
Daisy snorts. “They’re basically superpowers.”
He’s going to argue when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He Knows it’s the waitress without having to lift his head. Normally that would scare him, but at the moment he can only feel relief. He doesn’t want to open his eyes.
“Excuse me? What’s your team name?”
“Our team name?”
“For the pub quiz? You got the first question correct. The air date for the first episode of SpongeBob SquarePants.”
Daisy bursts out laughing. Jon cringes against the noise, but his headache is already feeling better. He sits up. “No. No, we are absolutely not playing a trivia game.”
“Come on, Jon! Trivia is perfect for you!”
“That’s exactly why we’re not playing!”
Basira leans forward. “Our team name is… ‘The Archives.’ Team Archives.”
The waitress nods. “I’ll add you to the list. You might wanna come sit at the bar with the other teams.”
“We’ll be right up.”
“Really, Basira?” Daisy is still laughing. “The best you can come up with is ‘Team Archives’?
Jon starts in on his glass of water. “I mean. It’s not inaccurate.”
“Thank you, Jon. Now come on. Win us a pub quiz.”
“I am absolutely not about to win you a pub quiz. It’s cheating!”
Basira grins. “It is absolutely cheating. But it’s also what normal people do at normal pubs.”
“Normal people at normal pubs don’t generally have the key to infinite knowledge rattling around in their brains.”
Daisy grabs his hand and tugs him towards the bar. “We’re not moping tonight, monster-boy. I’m sure you can win us a pub quiz without accessing the spooky ‘infinite knowledge’ rattling around up there. You’ve got a ton of useless college degrees, yeah?”
“None of my college degrees were in SpongeBob trivia.”
Basira smiles as they settle themselves at the bar. “They really were useless, then.”
“Yes, I should definitely go back to school for a degree in American television, that would solve all of our problems.”
“Maybe not all our problems,” Daisy points at the next question. “But it would solve this one.”
What is the registry number for the star ship Enterprise?
Jon feels the knowledge pushing, but he ignores it. Basira knows, though – surprisingly, she seems to know a lot about American television. Especially science fiction and bad romance movies. Daisy teases her, but she’s answering more questions than Jon and Daisy combined, and the evening regains a semblance of normality as the quiz progresses. They don’t win, in the end, but they do come in second, and Jon is laughing as Basira high-fives him and Daisy bows dramatically as she accepts the second-place prize.
It’s a bar tab. Twenty more pounds to spend at the same pub.
“I guess it means we’ll have to come back soon!” Daisy presents the gift card to Jon, who immediately turns and presents it to Basira.
“Basira won it, not me. Besides, I. Well. I probably shouldn’t be drinking ever again.”
“You can still come to bars, monster-boy. And help us win the trivia! Maybe next time the topic will be old spooky books.”
“I suppose I could be useful in that situation, yeah.”
“It’s not about being useful, stupid, it’s about having fun. You’ll come next time, yeah?”
Jon smiles. “Yeah. I’ll come.”
“Good. And you, Basira, you don’t even get a choice, you’re our most valuable team member.”
“I guess I’ll come next time, too, then.” She pockets the gift card and things feel good, or at least okay, and Basira might be avoiding his eyes now that trivia is over, but at least he’s not hung-over anymore, and Daisy is still acting happy. Then Daisy excuses herself to use the bathroom, and Jon is left alone with Basira, and things are less good.
He said some things to Basira, when he was drunk, and he wants to take them back, but he’s not sure how. He hesitates a second too long (that keeps happening to him tonight), and Basira’s already speaking before he can decide what he wants to say.
“Jon. I’m sorry. About – well. About leaving you alone. I – ”
“No, Basira, you don’t have to apologize. I was drunk, I shouldn’t’ve brought it up.”
She takes a breath. “You were right, though. I didn’t think about what it might be like. For you.”
“No, that’s okay, you’ve had a lot going on and – “
“Shut up and let me apologize, okay?”
“Oh. Right. Uh… sorry.”
“Good. I’m not saying I trust you, or anyone really, but I am sorry. For making it seem like… like I didn’t want you alive. I didn’t not want you alive.”
He raises an eyebrow. “There’s a stunning vote of confidence.”
“What I mean is… I didn’t want you to die. But I didn’t know what you coming back would mean. For you. For the archives. Still don’t, really.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Yeah. So I’m sorry. For leaving you alone.” She quickly adds: “I’m not saying I trust you.”
“Yes, you’ve made that very clear.”
“But I am saying we should work together. Share information. Not… not leave each other alone.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
“Yeah.” He feels himself smiling. “Yeah, that sounds… good.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
Daisy gently punches his arm as she returns from the bathroom. “Leave you alone for two minutes and you both revert to monosyllables. You’re hopeless.”
“I’ll have you know, Basira and I just had a very civilized, very sober conversation about the future of the archives.”
Basira smirks and links arms with Daisy. “Speak for yourself. I’m definitely not completely sober.”
“And I thought we weren’t talking about work tonight.” Daisy links her other arm through Jon’s, forming a chain. “C’mon, monster-boy. As the only sober one among us, it is your duty to lead us home.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Is monster-boy a thing now? Is that going to stick?”
“It is absolutely going to stick.”
“Please, no.”
Basira laughs. “I like it. It’s... endearing.”
“But if you really hate it we can find you another nickname.”
As Jon leads them out onto the street, he realizes that he doesn’t really hate it. Also, he’s afraid that any other nickname she thinks of would be infinitely worse. “It’s fine. I suppose. Just – one request?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t tell Melanie. Please. About monster-boy or… or anything that happened tonight.”
Both women burst out laughing. Basira finds her breath first. “I solemnly swear that I will not tell Melanie anything. Despite the fact that this is the kind of gossip she lives for and if she ever did find out I hid it from her, she would never forgive me.”
Daisy adds, “But she is invited to the next night out! So maybe you should pace yourself a bit better next time if you really don’t want her to find out.”
“The shots were your idea, Daisy!”
“Yes, but you agreed surprisingly easily.”
“I was curious!”
“And that’s your whole problem, isn’t it?” Basira is a little too close to the truth with that comment, and she seems to notice it a second after she’s spoken. She freezes a bit, glancing at Jon to see how he’ll react.
Jon decides he can take the ribbing from her. Besides, it’s not like she’s wrong. “Yes, I admit that curiosity in general has not been great for my health or the general state of my humanity.”
That gets Basira laughing again, and Daisy too, and Jon finds himself smiling and leading them down the empty street, under the orangish glow of London’s reflecting clouds.
It takes a few more minutes for him to fully process Daisy’s statement. As the only sober one among us, it’s your duty to lead us home. Back to the archives. Home. He supposes it’s the only home they have, all of them, tied to the books and the statements and the knowledge and the desperate need to know, a strange and savage home that has trapped them all like flies in the center of a spider’s web. He brushes that troubling idiom out of his mind before he can examine it too closely.  But the fact remains that their home is not much of a home, more of a prison, really.
But then, has Jon ever really had a home? He doesn’t remember his parents much, just a vague feeling of happiness and love before they were taken away. His grandmother cared for him, gave him a place to live, but was it a home, really? He spent so much time wandering away. The only person he can really think of is Georgie, Georgie and The Admiral, waiting in their cozy apartment with some strange foreign spices simmering on the stovetop and tea waiting to be poured. But that’s not his home anymore, either, and it hurts to think about Georgie, so he focuses instead on the two arms linked through his, on Daisy and Basira, and he thinks that maybe the warm feeling in his chest is close enough to a proper home. When they finally stumble into the Institute, the hallways are dark and empty and echoing, but not lonely, and he thinks that his home is a bit less strange and savage than it was before.
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