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desi-lgbt-fest · 3 years

Text

Day 5: Platonic

A story I wrote for today's prompt. It's a story about two middle aged men realising the happiness they want can come in many different forms.

1. 8 k words.

Cw: Mild homophobia. Incorrect language. It's indicative of character's understanding, not mine.

...

When Vikram Kumar first transferred to their branch, Nath wasn't impressed. Theirs was a small transport company, still somehow holding on against the giants of the industry. They were doing well for themselves; they had branches in few neighbouring states where the business was concentrated. And yeah, the company policy does state that employees should get transferred around every 4 years or so. But that never really happened. Nath had been working at Gada transport ltd for more than 25 years now and the only way anybody new ever came in the office was if someone died or retired.

That was what had happened. Another clerk, Nisha Bhagwan, had a heart attack at the computer and in came Vikram Kumar, a transfer from Nagpur. The office people took to him like animals take to the new clown at the circus. Nobody was really sad about Mrs Bhagwan's passing. She was old and in an office full of other old people, they were just waiting for the hat to drop on someone. Better Mrs Bhagwan than us.

They inquired after him, after his family, his mother's family, his neighbour's family, his neighbour's dog's family. When they found out that he was divorced and currently living in a sketchy hotel, they immediately turned to Nath.

Nath, or Adinath, as his name was, owned two flats in his society. Two flats side by side, one in which he lived. He very famously refused to rent it out to families or students or single women. Which meant, he never really rented it out. It actually quite suited to his own solitary silent life. But he regretted boasting about it in the office because here came his perfect rent.

"I- uh. The apartment is very dirty and I'd have to clean it," he started making excuses.

Vikram Kumar shrugged. "I don't mind. Better than listening to the sex noises coming from the side wall." Raucous laughter emerged, unhampered by the fact that their only woman employee wasn't there anymore.

Nath couldn't say no.

Vikram Kumar did turn out to be an ideal renter. He was silent. No guests. Rent, which Nath had kept a little high to dissuade, always on time. Sometimes old hindi songs drifted from his flat but Nath didn't mind. As his novelty wore off and office people stopped fawning over him, Nath did find himself to be quite okay with Vikram Kumar's existence.

A distinct mark in his favour was that he didn't laugh when at their regular chai break (5 minute break that always turned into a 45 minute one) the others made him familiar with Nath's title as the resident Bramhachari.

"Never married, never looks at a woman," Bhosle, their manager remarked.

"Hey you remember that time when that bombshell came in complaining about some lost package? Nath did not even look away from her face."

"Pakka gentleman, I tell you. He's not the customer complaint manager for nothing."

Everybody guffawed. Nath gave his regular pained smile. Vikram Kumar smiled back. For a moment, Nath thought it was a smile of understanding.

Eventually, Nath started offering Vikram Kumar a ride home on his ancient scooter. He obliged. When the ride turned regular, Vikram Kumar started contributing for petrol. Another mark in his favour.

13 months later, Vivek Chand, accountant, retired. In came a new hire, Ashalata Waad.

Suddenly many colleagues started turning up in pressed shirts and oiled hair. Nath merely shook his head and laughed at their preening. It was their colleagues' turn to laugh when Ms. Ashalata, recently widowed, took to Nath. Furtive smiles. Sympathy over dealing with difficult clients. Nath of course did not notice. But the other colleagues did. And out of sympathy for Ms Ashalata's feelings, they gently took her to a side after a week or so and directed her towards someone more likely to respond; the new divorcee, Vikram Kumar.

That, Nath certainly noticed.

That evening, Nath left without offering a ride to him.

Next morning, everyone noticed the distinct coldness between Ms Ashalata and Vikram Kumar. It was a long day too. Some trouble with licensing of a large shipment, everybody had to stay behind. It was well over 8 when people started leaving. Vikram came over to Nath's desk and tapped on it.

"I don't think this late I will find a riksha like yesterday. Will you please give a ride home?"

Nath sighed. He wasn't petty after all. Well, not much.

The streets were near empty. Theirs was a small town. One that eats at 8 and sleeps at 10. Nath's scooter cut through the silence and the sickly orange lights of the streetlamps like an interloper. They were crossing the Hutatma Chauk when Vikram asked him to stop.

"What for?"

"It was a long and stressful day. I wanted us a relax a bit at the park bench before we go home."

"I'm not going-"

"Please yaar."

Nath sighed.

Stopping the scooter at side, they both walked to the circle where statue of some forgotten freedom fighter stood, benches around it. Surprisingly, there were some people ambling around. Old couples taking a rest from nightly walk. A group of youngsters.

After having the sound of scooter in the ears for past five minutes, the sudden silence was deafening.

"I don't think Ms Waad would be talking to me again," Vikram Kumar started without preamble, a laughter in his voice.

Nath sighed and ran a hand through in thin hair. "You didn't do any-"

"No no, oh god no! I just said I'm not interested. I think that was enough for her to be offended."

"She's not your type?" he probed gently, curious.

Vikram was silent for a moment and then burst out with sudden emotion, "Why does it matter? Why one single woman and one single man can not stay without having an affair? Ye saala bollywood-" Nath hushed him, noticing the people around.

"Sorry." Vikram said, taking a deep breath to calm himself down.

"I get it. Years ago, when I told my father I was gay-"

"You're what??"

Nath felt like he made a tremendous mistake in judgement. But he was a grown man dammit, he will hold his ground!

"I said I am gay." Nath held his gaze. Vikram Kumar stared back, unknown range of emotions passing. Eventually he broke the gaze, ran a hand through his own balding hair and sat back.

He shook his head. "I am not gay, if that's why you-"

"That wasn't-"

"I'm NOT. I like women. I- I mean men are good too. I. I don't-"

Nath couldn't help it. He broke into a loud laugh. Like Vikram had performed some excellent comedy sketch.

Vikram punched him lightly on his shoulder, a smile evident on his face.

"I just meant, men, women. All are same to me. Honestly, I didn't mind being married to Sheela. I provided for her, I cared for her wellbeing. Our.. bedroom relations were less ideal but I didn't shut her out. I did my duty."

"I'm guessing she wanted someone who didn't see her as a duty?"

Vikram shrugged. "She was nice about it. Told me plain and simple she found someone else. We didn't have kids. It was easy. Well. As easy as it could be. She told the court I was impotent for swift divorce. I agreed. It caused drama in families though, which is why I asked for a transfer."

"Mrs Bhagwan died at a really opportune moment then."

They both shared a laugh and things fell silent once again.

"So you are... one of those," Vikram tried to say casually.

The elderly couple had left. A newly wed looking one took their place. Nath suddenly felt he was thrown back in time.

"I don't have much family," he started. "Mother died when I was young. Theirs was a love marriage, quite unusual for the times. They had run away and so had lost their families. My father raised me well enough; started pestering me for marriage when I got the job at 22. I kept avoiding for few years. But eventually I had to tell him. I wasn't going to ruin some poor woman's life." Nath looked pointedly at Vikram. Vikram didn't take offence. Just laughed self-consciously. Mark in his favour etc etc.

"Father raged for days. Didn't raise his hand on me, didn't tell anyone else but we fought a lot. It wasn't that he denied my condition. He just wanted a family. On some level we understood each other. I realise it now. I knew he wanted me to marry because he didn't want his hard fought family to die with me. And I guess, he probably knew what it meant to love someone you weren't supposed to.

He died soon after."

"When you were thirty, I remember you telling me."

Nath nodded. "I was free. I had a place of my own. A job. No family to hide myself from. I felt guilty over feeling relieved. I felt angry at being guilty. Then came sadness over being angry. That sadness stayed for a decade."

Vikram asked, "So you never...?

Nath shook out of his trip to memory lane. "Hm?"

"Are you? A bramhachari? Did you ever find-"

"There were some men here and there. Obviously there wasn't going to be a relationship," Nath scoffed. "If you know where to look, you can find release. But after Father died, I don't know, I rarely ever went looking for anybody. I didn't have it in me."

Vikram laughed. "Look at us. Two old men, all on their own, no happy family for us."

"Speak for yourself, I'm barely a day over 40," said the man, almost 50.

Vikram laughed again, looking at him with such fondness in his eyes. Nath felt sharp fear for a moment. Then he decided to be an adult again.

"You look well for your age too."

"Nath..."

Nath shivered at hearing his name. It was an intimate name. People didn't say it much. But it fit in Vikram's mouth.

"I don't want to change anything," Vikram said. "I'm happy as things are. It's ideal. I can't offer anything more."

Nath got up, brushing dust from his pants. It had gotten late. They were alone at the circle. A vehicle passing by to remind them of the world that exists.

"I'll take whatever you can offer," he said, looking away from him.

"Friendship? For as long as I live?" Vikram held out his hand.

Nath looked at it. Big, warm. Hairy. Pale skin where the wedding ring used to sit. He extended his own and took it.

"As long as I live."

... Let me know if you like it enough to see some other prompts involving them... I have so many headcanons for them.

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fallingappleshurt · 4 years

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im in the mood for angst, so for your dff au, could you please writing a one shot or smth along those lines of techno coming home from a particularly tough duel and everybody else’s reactions? ty!!! <33

YES HELLO I WRITE

Yes Hello I’m a writer and I forgot about asks but here we go!! I’m sorry this took so long and that it’s really bad but here it is!

This is very poorly edited I’m so sorry lol, this takes place in my dff AU! It’s spunky

And it’s been awhile since I’ve written for this AU so things are a little weird, kind of missed the angst but I got ideas don’t worry

TW: violence, fighting, description of injury but nothing too graphic I think

Dicey Nights

Sword in hand, solid stance, deep breath. He could do this.

Techno tapped his foot anxious against the cement floor, waiting for his opponent to climb over the ropes and enter the arena. The air was thick and hot from the muggy night’s humidity and the crowds incessantly loud cheering. The arena was dimly lit around the stans, all light coming from a giant overhead, casting grimmy light over the blood splatters that stained the rough concrete.

His opponent entered the ring, eyes flashing in the light, lips quirked up in a barely perceptible grin. Techno’s anxiety shot from his stomach to his heart, this man was like a tank, tall with bulky limbs and long flat sword.

Techno pushed his worries away, he had taken on opponents bigger then himself before, just not that big, but they needed the money, he had to win this.

They both walked to the middle of the platform, shook hands, the other man gripping too tightly to be friendly, then they turned and walked back to their starting places.

The buzzer sounded and the man shot forwards, sword swinging in an arch, Techno’s sword clashed with his, metal screeching pierced the air as the man tried to overpower Techno, putting his weight on the sword.

Techno kicked him in the knee, the man sputtered and slipped, allowing Techno to dodge to the side then ram into the man, sending him to the ground. He moved to slash his sword at the man’s neck and fake out the audience then the duel finished, quick and easy if the man stayed down for the three count.

Suddenly the man lashed out and landed a kick square into Techno chest, sending him reeling. Techno scrambled to his feet, stifling a groan. His ribs protesting vehemently, sending shockwaves of fire through his chest, he watched as the other man rolled back onto his feet.

The man, Techno heard the crowd cheering ‘Go Thrasher!’, ran at him again, opting to not overpower him but overwhelm him, he swung wildly, he obviously never had any training.

Techno took the defensive, slash, stab, dodge, block, kick back, and repete, analyzing Thrasher’s fighting style, his patterns and goto movements. Once he memorized the motions he switched to offense, changing his own patterns as well, quick slashes and jabs, forcing Thrasher back, Techno would kick at the man’s legs then go back to swinging.

In a ditch effort Thrasher whipped his sword around only for Techno to kick it out of his hands, sending it flying. Techno slammed into the man once again, taking advantage of his distraction, and knocked him to the ground.

He pointed his sword at the man’s neck, looking down the blade at Thrasher, the crowd around him screaming, “Go Blade go!” He tried to keep his face emotionless, waiting for the announcer to call it off.

Thrasher wasn’t giving up, he kicked at Techno again, who half dodged half stumbled away. Thrasher moved faster then Techno had even seen, Techno lashed out, slicing his arm but it didn’t faze Thrasher. Rage blazing in his eyes he jumped on Techno and knocked him to the ground, half pinning him, a knee on one of Techno’s arms, knocking his sword away.

Thrasher punched him across the face, Techno’s head jerked to the side, pain flaring in his face, nausea rising in his gut as the man reared back and hit him again and again.

Techno weakly grabbed for his sword but came up short, his vision was blurring, hot blood dripped down his face, matting his hair. In a last ditch effort, he threw a punch, aiming for Thrasher's throat, he hit his target dead on and hard.

Thrasher gasped and faltered, his grip loosen and Techno took his chance. He yanked himself away and sent another kick to the man's chest, scrambling towards his sword.

He didn’t know what he was doing, he couldn’t win this, the adrenaline would wear off soon and he’d lose, he wouldn’t be able to fight after this, he’d have to go home empty handed. That thought alone made him feel even more sick.

Thrasher rose to his feet, breathing heavily, Techno got into a weak stance, prepared to go down fighting. You weren’t allowed to kill in the duels but Techno was scared Thrasher would chuck those rules out the window. Thrasher’s fists were clenched, cracked and bloody at his sides, fire in his eyes, he let out a roar. Techno’s grip on his sword tightened and he prepared to swing-

The buzzer sounded.

The fight lasted 10 minutes, the announcer called it a draw. The audience booed and complained as Techno went to shake hands with Thrasher.

Thrasher looked at Techno’s hand in disgust before slapping it away, “You fight dirty, freak.” He growled, Techno scowled but bit his tongue and flipped Thrasher off and stalked off as dignified as he could with the room spinning like a toy top.

He grabbed a bottle of water from the sidelines and chugged it when one of the organizers threw a small pouch at him.

“You’re off your game,” The women commented lazily, not looking up from her clipboard, “I expected better.”

“Then you hop on in there,” Techno grumbled, not making eye contact as he pocketed the pouch, he sheathed his sword.

“I’d rather die,” She said, eyes flickering up from the page, “Just like you almost did.”

Techno snorted, “Please,” He said, shouldering his bag and walking towards the bathrooms, “I neva die.”

He somehow managed to get to the bathroom without collapsing, he pushed open the door and stumbled over to the sinks. He gripped the edge tightly, waiting for the room to stop spinning, he looked up at the mirror and realized he was fucked.

There was a gross cut on his hairline, trickling blood down his face, the right side of his face was covered in blooming bruises, blood from his nose smeared down his chin, he looked like a mess.

He felt like a mess.

Techno grabbed a paper towel and ran it under the faucet then scrubbed it against down his chin and along his hairline, ignoring the sting. He dried his face off then filled up his water bottle, dreading the fact that he couldn’t hide this from his family. He hoped to get home before Wilbur or Tommy woke up, he knew he couldn’t avoid Phil, he got up extra early to be able to commute to work.

Techno started home, not bothering to stay for any other duels, he wouldn’t be able to win, not in the state he was in anyways. He squeezed past the security guards and tried not to fall while walking, the trip home only should have been around forty minutes but between his slow pace and stopping to take breaks so he wouldn’t pass out it took him over 2 hours to get back.

The rusty metal stair squeaked as Techno climbed them, they groaned as he put his weight on the railing, god he wanted to lay down.

He unlocked the door, trying to push it open as quietly as possible, of course the door made that impossible as it creaked loudly.

The door cast a shadow on the soft light coming from the kitchen, Techno could hear dishes clicking quietly.

“Hey Tech,” Phil said, as Techno locked the door again, “You’re back later then usual-” He stopped, staring at Techno’s face, Techno immediately put his hands up, “Now I know what you’re thinking but let me just say; it’s not that bad.”

“Sit,” Phil said, setting his coffee cup down, Techno rolled his eyes, but sat down anyways. “Yeah I saw that coming,”

“Please tell me the other guys looks worse,” Phil prodded at the bruises on Techno’s face, Techno shrugged.

“Please tell me you didn’t get your face fucked up for nothing,”

“I hope? I mean I got a few good hits in, oh that reminds me,” Techno leaned over, rummaging through his bag for money pouch,

He immediately regretted it because it made the room spin again. He grumbled but found the pouch and tossed it on the table.

”It’s not a lot but it’s something,” Techno trailed off, he could have stayed longer, fought harder, been more useful but a few bruises sent him running back home. “I can go back tomorrow, get us more-”

“What? You’re not going back, you look like shit!” Phil said incredulously, checking the cut along his hairline,

“But we need the money,”

“We’ll get by,” Phil’s eyes narrowed, mouth in a tight line.

“That’s a lie-”

“No it’s not,”

“Phil I’m not stupid we need more and I can go back, tonight was just an off, when I go back I can get us more-”

“You’re not going back!” Phil said firmly, “You’ll get hurt again-”

“It’ll be worth it-”

“No! It’s not! Nothing is worth you getting this hurt!” Phil snapped, he took a breath, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry it’s- it’s just not worth it, you need to be okay too, you deserve to be okay.”

Techno sat there, not sure what to say. Phil looked at the clock and swore under his breath, “Shit, I’m gonna be late,” He grabbed his coat, “I’ll see you later, take it easy, alright?” Techno nodded as Phil walked out the door.

He sits there for a minute, not sure what to do, he wants to sleep for 45 hours but he is also hungry. He opted to grab a banana when he hears Wilbur yell from the other room;

“Tommy brush your hair!” The bedroom door opened, “No! It looks fine!” He didn’t notice Techno as he walked into the bathroom, Wilbur followed him out a moment later.

“Hey Wil,”

“Hey Tech, you're up earlier and oh my god are you okay?” He trailed off to the next point, gesturing gingerly at Techno’s face.

“Yes, I’m fine, I promise,” Techno said again, putting his hands up and rolling his eyes. Wilbur nodded, they stood there for a moment before Wilbur asked;

“Did Phil flip out?”

“Oh yeah definitely,”

“Well, at least something’s normal,” Techno snorted.

“Hey Wilbur, we’re low on toothpaste again-” Tommy said, coming out of the bathroom, he looked at Techno and trailed off.

“Uh, Techno, You’ve got a little something,” Tommy gestured to his own face, hand hovering over the whole right side, “on your face, like everywhere.”

Techno snorted and smiled softly, “Thanks for telling me nerd,”

“What happened?”

“Not important,” Techno said, grabbing an orange from their fruit bowl, tossing it at Tommy, who caught it with ease, “What is important is that you’re gonna be late for school, now get going.” He hadn’t told Tommy about the arena fights, he didn’t know how Tommy would react and he didn’t want to encourage it or risk it.

“No I’m not, you’re just avoiding the question!” Tommy protested, jamming his finger into the skin of the orange.

“You sure about that?” Techno nodded to the clock on the wall, 7:06.

“Oh shit, I gotta go,” Tommy said, Wilbur slapped the back of his head, “Language,”

“What come on! You say it all the time!”

“Yeah cause I’m older then you, now grab your shit,”

“Now you're just rubbing it in!” Tommy said, grabbing his backpack off the hook by the door.

“You’re right, now let’s go, I’ll walk to you,” Wilbur stopped in the doorway, Techno could hear the creaks of the stairs as Tommy jumped down. Wilbur looked at Techno, eyes soft.

“Go to sleep Tech, you look like you need it,”

“Well I was going to but now that you said that, I think I’ll stay up,” He teased, Wilbur rolled his eyes.

“If you aren’t asleep by the time I get back I will crush you,”

“I’d like to see you try,” Techno shot back as Wilbur closed the door, locking it.

The banana forgotten and set back on the counter, Techno slipped his shoes and laid down, hoping the others wouldn’t worry too much, he fell asleep almost immediately.

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archetypal-archivist · 3 years

Text

My Beloved, Penis

Fuck it. I was infected by Penis SMP by @demonboyhalo reblogging a bunch of it and the lack of consistent lore bugged me, so I somehow banged out 2000+ words of fanfic about the Penis SMP and how it got started. Lots of internet humor and classic MInecraft shenanigans in this one folks. *slaps roof* This baby can fit so much crack treated seriously, lol. This is also up on my AO3, Zazibine, if you would prefer to read it there.

_-_-_-_

It was never supposed to get so big. It was just an SMP with a couple friends of his he had met from the Hypixel discord server, where he had logged on simply to trash talk the absolute asshole who had dared to kill him last minute in bedwars, only to stumble upon said asshole- going under the name shittyfartbaby69 of all things- complaining to his girlfriend(?) Milfboss in the voice chat. Thirty minutes later of awkward hellos and the manliest of bitching at each other (with Milf chiming in every once in a while to roast them both), and PenisUnavailable had perhaps his first Minecraft friend in, like, forever.

Then Admiral_Anus had entered chat, bitching about his competitor in ABBA Mining and his bullshit bad luck and the whole process repeated. By the end of the day, Penis had three new friends, a private discord server for the four of them, and a promise to meet up with them in Hypixel next Sunday for the ultimate round of bedwars.

The game went spectacularly. Somehow, Admiral had some of the best bridging skills any of them had ever seen, and between Milfboss' terrifying Scottish screaming and pvp and Shitty with his clutch TNT skills, the three of them almost made up for Penis' awful depth perception. They still lost around forty percent of their games, but that was certainly better than Penis' own abysmal record, not helped with his habit of walking off the edge at inconvenient times.

And it was... fun. Usually bedwars was just him playing in his bedroom alone for an hour before he rage-quit and went back to survival for a bit before he died to fall damage and rage quit that too. But shittyfartbaby69 would crack dirty jokes that he'd never even heard of before, and Milfboss would roast him for looking it up on reddit and Shitty would cuss her out as he tried to prove that no, he was being original- all while Admiral would comment of them as if they were a sideshow display. Then Admiral_Anus would turn around and knock an enemy player off their island with some clever pvp and they would all hoot and holler and swear for a while before going back to their conversation, joking about forgetting the topic and starting up a running gag about something new.

And their accents, mmm. PenisUnavailable would never say it, but he really was as American as white Wonder bread and Milfboss' Scottish brogue, Admiral's smooth British snark, and Shitty's shrieking in Australian, well. Ear candy, you know? Even if he teased them mercilessly for pronouncing shit wrong, like "buhguhr". Ppffttt, it still cracked him up how Milfboss had threatened to murder him after the dictionary app on his phone had proved him right that it was actually "Bur-gur", even if Admiral kept insisting it was pronounced "bruh-girl".

Four hours and twenty-eight wins later, they had agreed to meet up the next day to play again, preferably at an hour that wasn't two am for Shitty again. (It was two am for Shitty again, although that was because they played for six that time.) Eventually, it just became a regular thing, them playing bedwars and competing at ABBA Caving- the one game Penis was unnaturally good at, much to Admiral's annoyance- to the point where they ran out of funny jokes about their competitors and the game itself and started talking personal anecdotes.

Milfboss owned a motorcycle. Admiral, entirely independently, also owned a motorcycle, as that was the only vehicle of reasonable speed and style that could actually handle the London traffic. Shitty couldn't drive at all, something about never passing his driving test. Admiral ate cheese at breakfast. Shitty liked to burn his garbage in a metal oil drum in his backyard. Milfboss posted herself singing covers of shit over on Youtube. And it wasn't just real life stuff either- their minecraft skills were also on the table for them all to collectively roast.

Admiral had never seen a single Minecraft Championship. Milfboss thought a flat cobblestone roof was entirely acceptable. Shitty's favorite block was the flint and steel. (That's not a block, sixty-niner. Shut up, is too. OoOh, real clever, 'shut up'! Uh, how about no? How about I fuckin' make you, ever think 'a that? No nono nonono, I'm on two hearts! I'm on two hearts, stop!) It made him curious, honestly. He wanted to see Milf's builds for himself, get revenge on Shitty, see if Admiral really could beat the Ender Dragon with a knockback stick like he said he could.

So he made a minecraft server. And they all joined it. (And stuck PenisUnavailable with the bill, suckaaahhh~!)

Predictably, it all went to Hell in a hand basket pretty quick.

See, it's one thing to play with nutters like his friends in a structured set up like Hypixel games, it's quite another to try and keep a semblance of order in an open world survival server like the Penis SMP. The first five minutes had been him trying to explain the rules and teleporting everyone back to spawn over and over as they tried to "escape the cops," ie, him. The next five minutes was Shitty scream-laughing "scatter!" and other John Mulany references down the mic as everyone ran off to start their houses. Penis, as he was still "god" at that moment, used admin commands to find the closest flower field biome to settle into, hoping for some- ha- peace and quiet.

Shitty, inevitably, ended up trying to settle in the fucking Nether. Like a mad lad, you know, as you do when you are apparently obsessed with all things lava. Milfboss ended up making an oak plank box of a "tree house" in a dark oak forest, while Admiral_Anus picked a nearby swamp for his starter base. Outside of that, they just kinda vibed in discord as they tried to fend off the mobs and get enough resources to try and build up houses that were a bit more than cobblestone towers and wood boxes- er, mostly. Milf kinda just fucked off to go mining, found a skeleton spawner by chance, and made a set of iron gear to stand in the dungeon room with to just chill and kill mobs for a while. She ended up with something like 45 levels and burned her only diamond on an enchanting table so she could buff the Hell out of her iron weapons and armor.

Penis, rather typically, he though to himself, put together a basic sheep farm and started work on a cute little cobblestone cave base. He managed to get a whole twenty by twenty block room done and fully furnished before he noticed the chat full of Shitty's death messages and went to go investigate. After nearly dying in lava twice, he managed to find Shitty's pile of items floating on a basalt pillar about a hundred blocks out from his... base?

It was a soccer ball. Shitty's base was a perfect fucking spherical soccer ball made up of quartz blocks and basalt. Just. What. The Fuck??? Then out popped shittyfartbaby69 and it was PenisUnavailable's turn to misjudge a jump and plummet right into lava. Fifteen minutes and much shrieking later about losing his diamond pick, and it turns out that Shitty didn't really care about his lost items, as he really only had four gold picks, a stack of dark oak, two furnaces, a bucket, and thirteen cooked mutton to his name. Not even a bed, the fucker. He just ran back to his portal from spawn every time he just burned to death, taking the chance to gather resources on the way back each time.

And no, he wasn't following a tutorial for his "football" base. Jerk. (Although Penis did have to admire his determination...)

The day ended on Milfboss, Shitty, and Penis reconvening back at spawn to try and hunt down Admiral_Anus, who they found later having built a thirty block tall castle of all things. Out of cobble stone and the windows weren't quite even, but still, it was pretty impressive. And of course, when presented with a castle, what can what do but siege it? So they lay siege to the castle and Milfboss curb-stomped Admiral in pvp and laid claim to the throne, crowning herself queen before summarily throwing the rest of them out. It was a good day.

And the day after was a good day. They played dodge ball crossed with hide and seek in forest around Penis' house with arrows supplied by Milfboss. And the day after that, too, where they had a building competition using nothing but cobble stone, specifically to spite Milfboss, who had kicked all of their asses the day before. In fact, three wonderful weeks passed of doing normal Minecraft shit and being friends passed by, and every bit of it was great fun.

And then came the fucking role play.

PenisUnavailable would have liked to preface that with he only participated under duress, but really, Milfboss had been queen for too long and nobody wanted to risk TNT cannoning any of Shitty's nice builds, so. Well, the castle was better than his drafty cave, alright? It was cold and wet and didn't have a proper door because aesthetic (and because it usually took him several tries to work an iron pressure plate door), so there were far too many mobs wandering in at night and spawn camping him. He and Shitty had almost the same number of deaths and Shitty lived in the fucking Nether.

So yeah. Castle time, baby! Daddy needs a new home! And Admiral obviously wasn't happy living out of Milf's awful tree house hot box where they all did drugs together on day fifteen and it still smelled of burnt wheat seeds, aka "weed." It was only obvious that they teamed up to try and take back the castle.

The battle itself didn't exactly go great, but it wasn't exactly horrible either. A lot of shouting shit at each other for fifteen minutes, the majority of which he wouldn't remember until it was too late- something about server unity?- only to find out that it wasn't two on one girl boss, it was two on a girl boss and her "baked out of his mind" henchman, also known as Shitty in a squirrel furry skin.

The ears man. Those stupid (cute) ears.

And then they were running for their lives because Milf had somehow gotten her hands on a flame bow with infinity enchants.

It all culminated in a dramatic stand-off in front of Shitty's Nether Soccer ball, Milf on one side, diamond axe in hand, not a bit of armor on because of an unfortunate run in with lava, Penis and Admiral on the other, picks in hand, threatening to tear down shittyfartbaby69's base. Shitty wasn't online just then to comment, but they could all hear him click-clacking away on his keyboard so he obviously hadn't gone to sleep just yet like he said he had. At an impasse, and unable to justify letting her teammate's home be used as collateral, Milfboss stood down and gave up her "crown," an enchanted golden Prot IV helmet she had gotten off a skeleton from her spawner.

Then the great betrayal, the beginning of the end. Shitty came back online. 96-Cam joined the game, not that they noticed in the chaos. Admiral-Anus cackled wildly and PMed Milfboss the message that Shitty had sent him, giving Team Gay Sex permission to tear down his base in the name of winning the war if it came down to it- making Milf's sacrifice worthless in the end. Penis gave another dramatic speech, circling around Shitty, who was acting weirdly apologetic to Milf about betraying her and still wearing that fucking squirrel furry skin.

"You see Milf, there's one thing more powerful than a girl boss, and when it comes down to wars between kingdoms, there's something you need to remember!" Penis got out his golden ax, helpfully labeled 'Piss Off'. "And that's a dilf with something to lose!" An enderpearl in his off hand and he teleported behind Milf, catching on fire from the lava but still landing the last hit needed to finish her off. She puffed into a cloud of EXP, swearing up a storm, and then Admiral and Penis turned their gaze to the cheering Shitty.

"AAAAAYYY, LET'S GO DADDY!" the squirrel man screeched, wild laughter shorting out the discord voice chat, making him go quiet in patches when the volume overloaded the client. Behind him, Admiral quietly started building a chair out of birch fence posts and slabs.

"Not so fast, shit-ty-fart-baaaaa-byyyyy~, this isn't quite over yet!" Penis fucking chirped, barely holding back his laughter. "You're still a fucking traitor and we can't have you backstabbing us too. Get in the chair for Daddy, okay baby?"

Admiral finished the chair just in time for Shitty to turn around and see the completed monstrosity, shrieking dying off immediately. "Oh screw you, that's just mean. The Hell man? That's not a chair, that's illegal. If you want an electric chair or some shit, just ask. That's just sad." Mentally shrugging, Admiral lit up his work with a flint and steel while Penis pillared up above where Shitty was building an electric chair out of iron bars and trap doors. Admiral nudged Shitty into the chair, Penis dumped a bucket of lava over the edge of the pillar so it flowed over him, and Shitty started giving a soliloquy about how betrayal and how his love for his "Daddy" still "burned strong".

Like his dick. Apparently.

By the time the lava finally hit the floor and burned Shitty to death, Penis was crying with laughter, shrieking down the mike and banging on the desk hard enough to make him forget that his was still on the mouse, making him mine the block under him with the bucket and sending him hurtling to his fiery death too.

It was a good day... almost.

Because, as it turned out, shittyfartbaby69 was actually a tiktokker of some renown and his cam account had record everything. And he had uploaded the bit to tiktok, as you do, where it went viral, where it wasn't supposed to. And Milfboss, who had recently been uploading covers of herself singing old classic Minecraft songs, had attracted the Minecraft fandom kids to her twitter, where she had gone to post her rage about the events of her dethroning and Shitty's execution.

Penis SMP had gotten on. Fucking. Trending. And now everyone was demanding the full clip, their names, their Twitch streamer handles, their characters' backstories.

The masses wanted lore.

Penis watched in disbelief, head in his hands and mouth agape as sugar crash played over a clip of him killing Milf on loop.

They were making memes.

...Oh god. They were screwed.

#penismp #penis smp #fanfiction #minecraft #my writing #crack #crack treated seriously #also on ao3 #penisunavailable #milfboss #shittyfartbaby69 #admiral_anus

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elizaviento · 6 years

Text

Higher Power

My dear Anon -- this prompt was perfect and I thank you for the delicious images that subsequently invaded my mind. I hope this meets your expectations, as well.

Note: This story features Rick/Reader D-74 from Assimilation because, you know, they’re my babies and I just love them so.

Higher Power

(Rick Sanchez x Reader)

NSFW -- 3200 words with lots of romantic type feely feels.

(FYI: Assimilation can be found in the Rick Fic Masterpost link in my blog description.)

*****

It was Jerry’s idea to go camping. I only agreed because I knew how much he loved it. Rick only agreed because Beth guilted him into it. So, you can imagine how much fun we were having while huddled around Jerry’s poor excuse for a campfire.

“Okay! Who has a scary story?” Jerry asked much too cheerfully while violently ripping open a bag of jumbo marshmallows that proceeded to spray outward, hitting him in the face before tumbling to the ground.

“Don’t worry, I brought another bag” I said before the kids could groan in disappointment. I knew Jerry better than he knew himself so the second bag of marshmallows was just a metaphor for my knack for bailing him out.

Rising from the ground, I quickly dusted off the seat of my jeans before shuffling toward my tent a few yards away, which was more difficult that I had initially taken into account. The sky had managed to fade from the soft hues of pink and blue to pitch black in the half hour that we’d congregated around the fire and I found myself stumbling on twigs and small rocks more than once before reaching my destination.

Once I’d finally made it to my tent, I felt around for and quickly unzipped the entrance flap -- the metallic hiss of the zipper sounding as loud as a freight train in the all encompassing darkness. Then, crawling inside on my hands and knees, I continued to navigate by touch until my hand closed around the plastic bag containing the fluffy cylinders of sugar.

When I felt something bump my ass from behind, I opened my mouth to scream the very second a hand materialized out of nowhere to engulf it.

“Jesus fuck! Calm down!” Rick’s rough whisper floated toward my ears from close by. “You -- y-y-you’re too fuckin’ jumpy” he chided, releasing my mouth so I could breathe a sigh of relief as he crawled inside the tent beside me and flopped down on his back.

“What are you doing?” I asked as he gripped my upper arm and tugged until he’d pulled me on top of him. I could feel, rather than see that our faces were within an inch of one another as his warm breath wafted across my skin.

“Humm?” was his only reply as he closed the short distance and pressed his lips to mine. Even in the complete blackness, his aim was perfect and I wedged one hand between his neck and the floor of the tent to hold him in place. That is, until I remembered that we were mere feet away from the remainder of our family. Pulling back, it was my turn to place a hand over Rick’s mouth to prevent him from connecting our lips once more.

“As much as I’d love to be defiled among the majestic beauty of nature, I’d rather not scar Jerry and Beth for life. Or the kids.” I removed my hand from his mouth expecting something witty in retort. I wasn’t disappointed.

“Baby, you can only be defiled once and I -- uh -- I’m pretty sure I took care of that looong ago” he purred, squeezing my ass for good measure. I needed to nip this encounter in the bud, right now, or I’d never have the willpower to resist. So, I pitched my body to the side until I landed on my back beside him.

“We need to get back before Jerry assembles a search party” I warned, hoping that the threat of my brother happening upon us rutting in a tiny tent would deflate his libido.

“Ugh. For some -- someone so hot -- so sexy, you sure know how to kill a boner” he complained. My eyes were just beginning to adjust to the darkness so I could faintly make out the movement of his lanky form as he sat up, his spiky hair swishing across the vinyl ceiling of the tent.

----------

What felt like hours later (but was in reality only 45 minutes), Jerry had run out of cheesy campfire horror stories and was grasping at any straw to keep each family member’s attention.

“Come on, Dad” Summer whined as she pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her hoodie for the 247th time that evening on impulse, the ‘NO SERVICE’ message on the screen mocking her time and again. “Can’t we just, like, go to bed now?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Jerry asked, plunging another marshmallow on the end of a twig and thrusting it directly into the fire; only to pull it free when it had transformed into a block of flaming ash. “It’s only 9:00 o’clock! The night’s still young! Rick, you must know some spooky ghost stories with all that planet hopping, right?” Adjusting my gaze beyond the flickering flames, I caught a glimpse of Rick and Beth sitting directly across from me, rolling their eyes simultaneously.

“No, Jerry” Rick spat, his face screwed up in disgust as he took a swig from his flask. “I don’t have any spooky ghost stories ‘cause they -- g-ghosts don’t exist.”

“Well, how could you possibly know that?” Jerry countered, shoving the charred marshmallow into his mouth before spitting it right back out with a whimper. “Ow, that’s hot!”

“It was practically smoldering like a brick of coal, Jerry” Beth explained with a sigh, wrapping her arms across her chest. It was, indeed, becoming increasingly chilly as the evening progressed and I felt a smile tug the corners of my lips when I spied Rick draping an arm across her shoulders in an unconscious bid to warm her. No fatherly instinct, my ass, I thought, making a mental note to point out his adorable display of affection at a later time.

“Yeah, Rick. How do y-you know ghosts don’t exist?” Morty chimed in as he speared a hot dog on his twig and very carefully hovered it above the flames.

“Be -- because there’s no such thing as a soul. Or god. Or the devil. It -- it’s just us, all alone fuckin’ judgin’ and -- and -- and killin’ each other in the name of some ‘higher power’ that, if it did exist, wouldn’t give two shits about any of us anyway.” He paused long enough to take another pull from the flask. “Does that -- uh -- does that answer your question?” he finished, standing from the fallen log he and Beth were sharing in some type of mic drop-esque grand gesture.

Narrowing his eyes in the way he does right before he says something stupid, Jerry countered, “I think you do believe in a higher power, Rick. But in your case, it’s yourself."

“Yeah! You -- y-y-you know what? You’re absolutely right, Jerry!” Rick said, throwing his hands in the air while Beth lowered her head and pinched her brow. I could second her reaction as I also stood to make my way back to my tent. “‘Cause -- uh -- you know --” he continued, suddenly jabbing an index finger in my direction, “-- your sister screams -- calls me GOD every single night!”

In that very moment, everything fell eerily still and silent. Even the crickets seemed to halt the ritualistic rubbing of their hind legs as each pair of eyes that didn’t belong to Rick grew to the size of teacup saucers.

“Uhh…” Jerry hedged while trying and failing to formulate an adequate come back.

“Seriously, Grandpa Rick?” Summer interjected while stomping away, presumably toward the tent she’d be begrudgingly sharing with Morty. “Just… gross!” Tentatively, Morty rose to join her, the inky blackness swallowing him whole like the gaping maw of some type of mythical sea creature.

Feeling like I could vomit at any second, my eyes flicked toward Beth. The look on her face could only be described as mortified as she also gathered up the remainder of the food and tossed it in the cooler. “Thanks a lot, Dad” she spit sarcastically, actively avoiding eye contact with me.

Then, as if suddenly realizing what an absolute horrid thing he’d just allowed to fly from his mouth, Rick slumped forward and groaned -- scrubbing a hand down his face before fishing the other in the inner pocket of his lab coat again for his flask. Or should I say crutch.

“Look. I --” he began, but the damage was done and I was already striding toward the sanctuary of my tiny tent with unshed tears of humiliation and rage stinging my eyes.

----------

He didn’t come after me. At least, not right away. He knew he’d managed to piss me off royally and that if he didn’t give me time to cool off, I wouldn’t be above socking him in the jaw.

So, I lay in the dark -- staring up at the ceiling of my tent with the sleeping bag zipped up to my chin. Once securely inside, I’d let the tears silently fall from my eyes as I seethed and seethed and cursed his name. How could he say something like that? In front of the kids? In front of BETH?! Did he really think so little of me that he wouldn’t think twice before blurting something so fucking crass in front of our family?

Eventually, the burning sensation in my face began to cool along with the tear tracks drying on my cheeks. Rick knew to let me be when I was truly angry because he also knew that I wasn’t one to hold a grudge. However, perhaps he deserved it this time. Perhaps having a legitimate grudge held against him would serve him right.

Mulling the thought over, I yawned and let my eyes drift closed. The crickets had resumed their delightful chirping and I allowed them to lull me into a peaceful sleep.

----------

“Shhh” a raspy voice hissed with lips pressed to my ear when I was suddenly jolted awake. After a second or two, my brain registered the voice with the vision of a man with blue spiky hair and a perpetual scowl.

“I’m still mad at you” I whispered while I attempted to wiggle from his grasp. I was trapped in the sleeping bag with Rick’s arms wrapped tightly around it.

“You’re not” he challenged, his voice low enough that only I could hear while his lips still pressed and feathered across the shell of my ear.

But, I actually was. And, his arrogant insistence that I wasn’t…

Freeing my arms from the cocoon of the sleeping bag trapped in Rick’s arms, I forcefully shoved him away. Wishing there was even one speck of light to see the, no doubt, shocked expression on this face, I wiggled from the sleeping bag completely and sat upright with my knees pulled up to my chest.

“What the hell?” he harshly whispered from the other side of the tent. I could faintly hear the whoosh of polyester fabric as Rick blindly groped his hands across the sleeping bag, searching for me.

“Don’t you dare, Rick!” I spat, my voice straining as I tried to project a whisper in a manner that adequately portrayed how upset I was with him. “Don’t you DARE try to get in my pants after that little stunt you pulled!” He groaned in obvious annoyance and the rage burned within me fresh and hot. He had no right to be annoyed with ME. “Get out” I demanded, pointing toward where I thought the flap of the tent was located even though it was much too dark for him or I to tell.

Without a word, I felt the tent pitch and sway as he attempted to crawl toward the exit. Again, I could hear the swish of his hair as it made contact with nylon and I began to snicker as it became increasingly obvious that Rick couldn’t locate the flap.

“Wait” I said, my voice softening as his exasperated sighs only managed to endear him to me in the most inopportune moment. I had promised myself I’d hold a grudge, but I was failing. Now that I was free of the warmth of the sleeping bag, the chill licked at my exposed skin and the deep seeded adoration and yearning for Rick began to bubble up from the pit of my being; that coil nesting in my stomach slowly unfurling to extend to my arms as they searched for him in the darkness. Recognizing my tone, he immediately sought me out again, as well, and soon we were comfortably entwined.

“I’m sorry” he whispered into my hair and he sounded more sincere than I could ever recall.

“You know I’m not good at expressing my feelings --” I began and he scoffed as if to imply ‘yeah, me either’ before I continued, “-- but that was fucking brutal, Rick.” He pressed a tender kiss to the top of my head and I knew I wasn’t angry any longer. Turning to press my face to the crook of his neck I whispered confessions of love against his skin while balling my fists in the lapels of his lab coat.

“Sweetheart --”

But, I deftly cut him off by pressing my lips to his while tilting and raising my hips, effectively tipping him flat on his back. Now straddling him, I settled my bottom on his upper thighs while my hands worked the buckle of his belt. Even in the darkness, the practiced movements came so naturally that I’d soon pulled it from the loops and began the task of loosening his fly. And, while I undressed him, he undressed me -- lifting the oversize t-shirt from my body before I trailed my hands under his sweater until he lifted his arms so I could do the same.

We were quiet. Silent as the night. Neither of us above a whisper as our humid breaths heated the small enclosure that protected us from the elements. And when I finally rose to line his cock to my entrance, I suppressed a sob as I slowly took him fully inside.

“Oh baby -- oh fuck, you feel so good” Rick groaned before capturing my lips just in time to swallow my moans and gasps.

“Rick” I breathed, nestling my face in the juncture of his neck and shoulder as I buried one hand in his hair. “Rick, please.”

He knew what I wanted. He was always hesitant to utter the words even though we both knew them to be true. He hitched a breath as if to prepare but I decided perhaps now wasn’t the time. Perhaps I wanted the words to come of their own volition instead of from my gentle prompting.

So, I began to fuck him. Slow and deep -- alternating between pressing kisses to and planting my teeth in sensitive flesh behind his ear. And, still we were quiet. Silent as the night. Neither of us above a whisper as we rocked together, his fingers digging bruises into the flesh of my hips while my fingernails pressed crescent grooves in the flesh of his neck and scalp.

“Oh my -- fuck! -- oh god” he released in a strangled whine as I quickened my pace. The slight slapping of skin on skin ricocheted between the nylon walls of our enclosure as it mingled with muted grunts and gasps and the occasional soft moan that I allowed to escape when Rick’s cock hit my sweet spot just right.

“Who’s the higher power now, huh?” I asked in the sultriest whisper I could muster before trapping the shell of his ear between my teeth.

“Sweetheart -- baby...” he whined, gripping my hips tighter in silent question. He was teetering on the edge of control and I nodded my head in approval, excitement already overtaking me as my body tensed in preparation for the pounding I knew I was in for. And as he bent his knees to firmly plant his feet on the floor for leverage, he moved one hand from my hip to roughly grip the back of my neck and pushed his pelvis upward until the head of his cock pressed heavy, direct and consistent pressure on my g-spot.

“I love you.”

The words were so sudden and unexpected that my body immediately responded, tensing further as my cunt violently clamped around Rick’s cock and I came -- hard -- sinking my teeth in his shoulder to silence the scream that threatened to rip from my throat. Each contraction seemed to be stronger than the last as it pulsed and pulsed through me, the endorphins flooding my bloodstream at an alarming rate. And, as my climax began to ebb, Rick lowered his hips only slightly before forcefully slamming them upward again and again and again. Limp as a rag doll, I allowed him to fuck into me as another orgasm began to build deep inside. No longer possessing the mental capacity to sexily moan and croon for him, I only dropped my head to his shoulder as he whispered the praise he knew I cherished so well.

“Oh, fuck, my perfect girl. You -- you know I love you, huh? Y-y-you can feel it, yeah? Feel how much I fuckin’ love you? -- oh shit!”

I came again -- quietly sobbing and drooling against his neck and I clung to him; sweaty and trembling.

“Thaaat’s it, my sweet girl. You -- you’re pussy’s so goddamn perfect, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum” he growled directly into my ear, probably a little too loud at this point but I was far too gone to care. He fucked up into me -- hard and deep -- once, twice, a third time; clenching his teeth, a forceful inhale whistling past them as he filled me up. Hot and thick and perfect.

“Holy god, fuckin’ christ” he gasped as his muscles relaxed and the death grip on my neck and hip loosened. I only hummed in response letting my full weight settle on his chest for only a moment before I rolled and plopped down beside him.

“Leave it to Jerry to pick a campground that doesn’t have showers” I quietly joked and snickered as the product of our coupling leaked to the floor of the tent.

“I -- uh -- I’ll portal us to the house in a couple of hours” he rasped. My eyes had somewhat adjusted to the darkness once more and I could faintly make out the motion of his sweeping hand through his hair as my mind burned the evenings activities into my memory bank. “But, remind me to tell Jerry he was actually wrong. Yet again.”

“About what?” I asked suspiciously, furrowing my brow as I hoped he wouldn’t say something completely idiotic to ruin the moment. But in the safety of the darkness, he said something that nearly knocked the wind from me --

“My higher power is you.”

The End.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez #fanfiction #sister smith series #higher power #fanfiction request

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decandantfics · 5 years

Text

Make Everything Better

A/N – This was super fun to write – the boys just sort of took over for me, to be honest. So hopefully it's as enjoyable to read as it was to put it on paper. Just a bit of a laugh, this one, inspired by a recent conversation with wizkiddx...

"Yes, Dec, I know it's stupid, but..." Ant and Dec were in the early stages of rehearsals for the second BGT semi-final of 2019, and things weren't exactly going as planned. First, that morning's production and script meeting had overrun by nearly 45 minutes, putting everyone behind schedule. Then, there had been a major problem with some of the lighting for the main stage, setting them further behind and forcing the team to rearrange the order of rehearsals so that the lights issue could be fixed without slowing down the day's flow. So now, rather than all of the acts rehearsing in the order they would perform that night, they were all shuffled, resulting in a bit of all 'round confusion.

Although they had arrived at the Hammersmith Apollo in high spirits, relieved to have the first show out of the way and excited for their second show back together, both Ant and Dec were feeling decidedly stressed and a bit put out by the time the second act of the day was beginning to rehearse. Ant was managing to go with the flow a bit better than Dec; Ant had always been rather more laid back when it came to things like this – Dec had often said in the past that he had to worry for the both of them, since Ant would just dismiss any issues with the old adage that everything would be "all right." So while Ant was feeling slightly annoyed at all of the day's disruptions (it was still only 11:30am), Dec was in a right strop already, complaining about anything and everything. It was a bit reassuring, really, Ant mused, to see this other side of Dec for once, as it showed that Dec hadn't actually changed that much while he'd been away. While Ant had been off work last year, Dec had never once mentioned frustrations or annoyances connected with their job – and Ant supposed there must have been many – instead focusing solely on their relationship and being a strong shoulder to lean on for Ant. So Ant hadn't been exposed to a stressed, rather prickly Dec for quite some time. And to be honest, he'd forgotten just how annoying Dec could be when he was like this – even the slightest thing could set him off on a rant again, just like the one he was in the middle of right now.

"It makes no sense, though, does it!" Dec groused, eyebrows raised as he took in the latest changes to the day's rehearsals order. "I mean, it's gonna take ages to change the sets between those two acts. What are we supposed to do? We might as well have stayed home today – why bother coming to rehearsals if we're not actually going to rehearse anything, just sit around all day waiting for everyone else to sort their s*** out!" Dec was gesturing wildly by the end of his latest tirade, his exasperation at the day's poor management more than obvious in the shrill tone of his voice. Ant let out a sigh. "Declan." That one word held an accommodating ring to it, but there was a deep undertone of annoyance that was impossible to ignore.

"What? It's true!" Dec insisted stubbornly, continuing, "I sometimes wonder why they even bother having us here – they never listen to a word we say!" Ant rolled his eyes. Now Dec was just getting petty. The BGT team were always willing to listen to Ant and Dec's suggestions, and would take them on board sometimes. But today, Dec's grand plan for efficiently rearranging the schedule had been shot down immediately by a new member of the team who seemed to find it outrageous that the presenters would think they should have any input on how rehearsals were run. To be fair, that lack of respect was what had set Dec off in the first place. He felt very strongly that he and Ant were an integral part of the team and that their thoughts and opinions should, at the very least, be considered. And honestly, Dec's plan for rearranging the schedule had made a lot more sense than the one that had ultimately been decided upon. But now he was just using it as an excuse to complain about everything, annoyance filling his mind, dark storm clouds brewing as he got closer and closer to snapping at someone (other than Ant).

The Vardanyen Brothers were about to begin rehearsing their act, and that fact clearly wasn't helping Dec to calm down at all. In fact, Ant could see the anger dissipating a bit and being replaced by anxiety. He knew how much Dec hated these dangerous acts – he always said how stressful they were to watch – and it looked like this one was going to be pretty crazy. It had been one thing with the Giang Brothers last year, who balanced on each other's head, but it was quite another to see two men placing swords in their mouths and trying to remain in perfect balance with each other, one upside down. Ant himself had a tight knot of nervousness in his stomach as he watched the two men practice their routine. Feeling smallish hands clutch at his arm, Ant turned slightly to see Dec watching the brothers with wide eyes, tension obvious in his face as he met Ant's gaze for a brief moment before his eyes were drawn inextricably back to the two men on stage. Gasps escaped Ant and Dec and the rest of the crew as one of the men abruptly lost his balance and fell to the floor, landing with a sickening thud. Dec's hands were now gripping Ant's arm so hard that it hurt, all color drained from his face as he and Ant watched the paramedics rush onto the stage to check on the fallen man. Blowing out a tense breath, Ant chanced a glance at his pallid friend, trying to reassure him, "I'm sure he's fine, Deccy, it can't have been the first time that's happened to them," patting his hand soothingly.

After a few tense moments, the man was helped up off the floor by his brother, and after another quick once-over by the paramedics, the two brothers resumed their routine, albeit a bit more carefully this time. Ant relaxed as it became evident that no major harm had been done; Dec's nerves were shot, however, his already high stress level having gone through the roof with that rather scary interruption amid an otherwise seamless performance. Ant watched as Dec reached for his strongly caffeinated tea, taking a long gulp as his eyes remained fixed on the two men on stage. And just like that, Ant found himself wondering what Dec had been like during last year's live shows. He knew how stressed Dec had been over the past year – how could he not be with that level of pressure resting on his shoulders – and he also knew that stress could make Dec tetchy at the best of times, and downright bad-tempered at the worst. Sort of like right now, to be honest.

Finally tearing his gaze away from the Vardanyen Brothers, Dec caught Ant staring at him. "What?" Dec questioned sharply, as Ant just shook his head and sighed, "Nothing, Declan. Come on, we're needed on stage soon." Ant knew better than to further irritate Dec when he was like this. It was just playing with fire, really. He knew Dec's bad mood wouldn't last forever, it was just a matter of keeping his friend's temper in check until the fire in his belly cooled down a bit. Ant was always pretty good at diffusing situations with a quiet word or a touch on Dec's arm – he was really the only one who could successfully snap Dec out of a mood like this. And Ant was always the one who got moaned at when things went wrong, even if it wasn't his fault – it had always been that way, even back in their PJ and Duncan days. But Ant didn't mind, really; this was a side to Dec that he was more than used to after 30 years of friendship, and he actually sort of enjoyed the challenge of keeping him in check.

Oh, great. That new team member was headed over to them again...And was that a smirk on his face?! Ant stepped a bit closer to Dec, the tension in the air palpable as the two men locked eyes. "Hey, Mr. Presenter-with-a-Plan," the cocky voice rang out, "Time to do some work instead of just sitting around drinking tea and telling us how to do our jobs!" Dec had frozen the moment the impudent young man started talking to him, and now there was rage radiating from his every pore. He was a tinderbox, ready to explode but trying really hard to keep his cool, knowing he really shouldn't blow up at the crew. Ant, however, was now furious. No one talked to his friend like that – Dec was the hardest working guy he knew and what the young man had said was beyond disrespectful. His stride purposeful, Ant stepped in front of Dec with a soft, calming touch to his shoulder – essentially saying, "I've got this" – and stood toe to toe with the cocky newcomer. Adam, apparently, according to his name tag.

"You can bloody well keep your mouth shut if you're going to talk to Dec like that!" Ant's voice was wrathful, his posture threatening, causing Adam to shrink backwards slightly, although keeping the smirk on his face. "Oh, standing up for your lazy little friend, are you? Pint size can't speak for herself?" Adam sniggered – he stood at a height of 6'3", towering over both boys, and thought it was hilarious how tiny, and – to his mind – unmanly Dec was in particular.

"Right. That's enough!!" Ant held back the roar that wanted to come out, instead speaking firmly but loudly enough to be heard by the entire room, furiously glaring at the brazenly insubordinate man in front of him who was at least 15 years their junior. "Apologize now or You. Are. Fired."

Mouth falling open in shock, Adam did an excellent imitation of a fish – his mouth opening and closing several times, no sound coming out – that had Dec in fits of giggles. To be honest, he was quite enjoying the show, even though he was the subject of the man's attack and was righteously outraged himself. People had no idea how hard he and Ant worked, the incredibly long hours they put in to make sure every single one of their shows was as perfect as possible. They worked hard, all the way from the formative stages of the shows through to eventually presenting them live. So Adam's flippant dismissal of their work ethic was deeply unfair, and both men had more than enough reason to be affronted. Not to mention the fact that he had just thoroughly insulted Dec.

"But...You can't fire me! You're not my boss," Adam pleaded, eyes comically wide as he realized what a fool he had been to pick a fight with two national treasures. Dec was still sniggering behind Ant, who now turned back to look at him, secretly sharing an amused grin about the young man he'd reduced to a quivering pile of jelly in front of them.

Alan Conley, the floor manager, had been standing off to the side, watching on in case things got out of hand. He knew Ant and Dec were consummate professionals and would never do anything stupid, but could and would pick their own fights and win them, too. Now he stepped forward into Adam's line of vision: "You bet they can fire you! So if I were you, I'd apologize right quick and let them get on with their job," Alan stated strongly, eyes fixed on the cowering young man.

"Yes, sir," came the meek reply, before, "I'm sorry, I apologize...Please don't fire me?" His eyes still the size of large saucers, Adam's face was a picture, no longer cocky and loaded with fiery disrespect. Dec stepped up alongside Ant, and the two of them shared a look, pretending to think really hard. Before they could reply, Alan broke in again, deciding to have a bit of fun with this.

"Anything you need, boys? Like a refill on your drinks or anything?" Alan questioned, his voice holding a hint of amusement despite his best attempt to look and sound completely serious. Catching on, the boys shared another glance before Dec piped up, "Actually, Alan, now that you mention it, I am feeling a bit peckish. I could go for a jam donut. How 'bout you, Ant?" Greatly enjoying this, Dec's previous foul mood had lifted, being replaced by a cheeky light-heartedness as they played with their stupefied prey.

"Erm, I'll get a latte, thanks," Ant replied, eyes gleaming with mischief. Adam was just standing there, a befuddled expression on his face, not quite following where they were going with this.

"Go on, then, you heard them!" Alan ordered, eyes glittering with suppressed mirth and a tiny bit of a dare, as Adam's mouth fell open once again as he finally understood what was going on. "But...But I'm an associate producer! That's what the runners are for! You can't make me do that! I've got an important job to do!"

"Are you saying the runners don't have an important job?" Ant entered the fray again, voice taking on a dangerous quality. "The runners are every bit as important as the executive producers. Maybe you should learn some work ethic and respect and do as you're told."

Eyes flashing with defiance, Adam stuck his chin up in the air proudly. "Or what?"

"Or," Dec retorted icily, "You can find work elsewhere."

Knowing he'd been defeated, Adam glared at Ant and Dec, before pivoting on his heel and storming off in the direction of the Hammersmith Apollo's café. Once he was out of sight, Ant and Dec shared a sideways glance before bursting into hysterics, having to cling onto each other to stay upright they were laughing so hard. Alan joined in, clapping both boys on the shoulder before being pulled away by a crew member with a question about one of the props for the next act.

"That was the most fun I've had in ages," Dec wheezed, finally getting his breath back as he wiped tears of laughter away. He grinned as he looked at Ant, who was still shaking with laughter beside him as he remembered Adam's scandalized face at being reduced to a runner. "He asked for it!" Ant finally responded, a tiny bit of rage creeping back into his eyes as he remembered the young man's utter lack of respect for his friend.

Sidling back up to Ant, Dec fluttered his eyelashes at him flirtatiously, teasing, "I like it when you fight for me, makes me feel all important." Snorting, Ant grinned and shook his head at his absurd friend, who was now sticking his tongue out at him. Making a grab for his tongue, Ant burst out laughing when Dec snatched his hand and tickled his palm with his tongue, wiggling his eyebrows at him. "You dirty Declan, you!" Ant burst out in mock disgust, wiping his hand on his jeans before they both fell against each other in fits of giggles again.

As they were called on stage to rehearse the next link, Dec turned to Ant one last time, a grateful look on his face. "Thanks, Ant, I needed that. You can always make everything better." Giving him a genuine grin, Dec pulled Ant in for a quick hug while Ant smiled contentedly. It was good to be back.

#ant and dec #ant mcpartlin #declan donnelly #alan conley #bgt #semfinals #fiction #decandantfics

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buckymorelikefuckmebarnes · 6 years

Text

Fortunate pt 9

Masterlist

Over reaction of the century

At 5:40 Bucky finally packed it in, the day had gone slower than he would have liked without you there and the thought unsettled him a little. Sure the work took longer without your help but it felt like he was at work for days rather than hours without your laugh filling the silence. He tried talking to Peter to pass the time but eventually Peter got tired of sitting in the shop with him so he had to settle with the radio which reminded him that you weren't there more than anything else. He was so used to hearing your voice hum or sing along with the music that the whole garage felt different. You had missed days before but this definitely felt different, especially after everything that had happened over the last few days.

He rode his bike past your apartment before slowing down and parking a few spaces away. He glanced at his phone. 5:50 he had to hurry to make sure he had time to get dressed for his date with Anna Marie but he wanted to make sure that you were okay.

He took the stairs two at a time until he was on your floor. It didn't take him long to figure out that you were gone. He checked the time again. Damn. He was going to be cutting it close. He hopped on his bike and mad his way to get changed.

He showed up to Anna Marie's apartment at 6:30 exactly. He didn't even have a chance to make it to the door before Anna was skipping through it. She was wearing a dress and Bucky's face fell as she took in his mode of transportation.

“Oh. I um.. I'll go change” She said picking at the hem of her dress.

“No... I'll catch us a cab.” Bucky didn't want to start the date off on the wrong foot.

“So James, What do you do or work?” Anna asked as the cab made its way through the busy street. Bucky tried to keep the annoyed expression off his face as he thought about his bike parked against the curb and how it would have been much faster.

“I work at my uncle's garage with my best friend.”

“That's nice. Do you like it?”

“Yeah, I mean its what I love to do. The hours are great and I work with the best people in the world. I really can't complain. What about you? Is the diner working for you?”

“I mean, it pays the bills, Ms. Danvers is a lovely woman to work for but I think I'd like to be an actress.”

Bucky nodded as Anna Marie spoke but didn't comment.

“You're a real conversationalist, aren't you? Something wrong?” She asked.

“Not really. Just worried about that friend of mine. Didn't show up to work today.”

“Is that not normal, everyone needs a sick day now and then. Have you tried texting him?”

She hasn't taken a sick day in months and she was perfectly fine yesterday. I did text her but it's still not like her.”

“Is this the friend that texted you the other day?”

“One in the same. Been friends with her and Stevie since we were teenagers.”

“Oh.” Anna bites her lip and readjusted herself to look at Bucky better. “So you guys hang out a lot?”

“Almost every day. Well, not so much with Steve now that hes engaged but we used to do movie nights once a month.”

“So you guys don't now?”

“No, It's just gone from the three musketeers to the two of us. Drink a little. Watch a movie. Eat junk food.”

Anna looked at Bucky with a frown. She tapped on the back of the driver's seat.

“You can stop here.” She handed the driver money and returned her attention back to Bucky who looked at her with confusion.

“I'm sorry James, Walk me home?”

Bucky was at a loss for words so he simply nodded and crawled out of the cab.

“W-What's going on? Did I do something to offend you?” Bucky stammered as he moved to catch up.

“No, honey, no. Not at all. You were a perfect gentleman. It just... This friend of yours, you're in love with her. And I just don't think my hearts in the right place to share.”

Bucky open and closed his mouth like a fish before finally finding the right words for the situation. “I do love her. Very much. She's been my rock for years but she doesn't feel the same way about me no matter what Steve says.” He stuffed his hands in his pocket and stared at his boots. “So I thought maybe give someone a real shot.”

“Sweetheart, now I know I don't have all sides of the story but it sounds like she cares about you a great deal. You'll never know until you take a chance. Plus I'm not looking to be a rebound, real relationship or not.”

Bucky felt guilt bubble up in his chest as the reached her apartment. Maybe Steve was right, maybe he should sort his shit. He looked up and met Anna's eyes.

“Look James, It's not me it's you,” she let out a hearty laugh, “But we can still be friends. And if the way you wolfed down your milkshake the other day, I'm sure I'll be seeing you around.”

Bucky stayed oddly quiet and she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “Good night.” And with that she disappeared into her apartment.

Bucky shook his head and hopped on his bike. He decided to drive around for a while to clear his head. He had a real mess on his hands and he needed time. Time to adjust to what everyone had been telling him. Maybe you did feel the same way. He could imagine how hurt you must have been with him when he came to your apartment with news about his date less than 24 hours after the kiss. Thinking back on it now he could see it all very clearly. You were all dolled up and wanting to talk to him about something important and then he came in babbling about a new woman. He could see your barely concealed hurt and he could kick himself. They always said hind sight was 20/20 but this was ridiculous. He had hurt his best friend and fuck that explains why you weren't at work. His heart felt heavy in his chest.

He had to find a way to make this right. He spotted a park and quickly pulled over and shut off his bike. He found an empty swing and planted himself in it. Swinging back and forth helped him settle his anxiety riddled body. His mind drifted back to the end his senior year. You had tried going out with some guy from your English class who managed to stand you up, he left you waiting at the movies for almost 30 minutes before you decided to call Bucky to pick you up. You both ended up at the park near your house, you didn't want your parents to know that this guy didn't show up after they dropped you off. You had been crying so hard that your make up had smeared down your face and all he could think was that you were too beautiful, even with thick black marks trailing down your cheeks, to be stood up. He felt rage bubble up in his chest. How could someone hurt you like this? Didn't he realize how special you were? That your heart was full of love and kindness for almost everyone?

It was probably that night that Bucky realized he loved you and here he was, on his own ruined date, wishing for nothing more than to have you close. Bucky sat on that swing until a police officer walked by with his flashlight.

“Excuse me, Sir. Park's closed for the night. You need to head out.”

Bucky nodded and stood up from the swing. “Sorry officer.”

Bucky was on his way home when he decided to check on you again. When he got to your apartment building he could see that all of the lights were still out, so either you weren't home yet (which worried him) or you were already asleep. He continued on to his apartment setting a mental reminder to text you when he made it home.

He walked in to his apartment and toed off his boots at the door. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bear, throwing his keys and wallet on the counter. He sipped on the bottle all the way to his bedroom where he pulled off his shirt and jeans and replaced them with a pair of gray sweats. He pulled his phone out of his jeans and thew them on the chair in the corner.

He quickly typed out a text that conveyed his concern easily.

You replied almost immediately and your reply left him a little puzzled. Just got home? You weren't usually one to stay out past 7 on a work night. He tried to remain cool, even though he was suddenly very nervous.

Girls night out? He texted you.

3 minutes, no response. Maybe you were busy.

10 minutes, no response. Probably in the shower. No reason to worry.

45 minutes, no response. Bucky was throwing on a shirt.

50 minutes, no response. He was flying down the road in the direction of your apartment.

70 minutes, no response. Bucky was knocking on your door. The worry faded from his chest as he heard the TV through the door. You opened the door and he was met with a well dressed, messy haired angel. The relief that washed over him was intoxicating.

“What the hell, Bucky?” You said rubbing your eye and smudging your make up. “Its 10:45 what are you doing here?”

“You didn't answer my text.” He said with a shrug.

“You have got to be kidding me. I fell asleep. I've had a long day.”

“Sorry. I was just worried about you. You know, you didn't come to work which was weird and then you barely talked to me today and then you weren't here when I tried to check on you.” Bucky's words flew out of his mouth at break neck speed.

“Sorry Buck. I didn't mean to worry you. I just... I needed some me time today and then I had a date this evening.”

Bucky's jaw popped open for a quick second before he snapped it shut. He was too late.

“Sorry I woke you up. See you at work tomorrow?” He asked as he tried to keep a smile on his face'

“Yeah. For sure.” You said with a large yawn.

Bucky tuned to leave. “Buck.” Your sleepy voice came from the still open door.

He turned his head too look back at you. “Yeah.”

“We're okay, right?”

“Yeah, Sweetheart.”

He watched as you stepped through the doorway and wrapped your arms around him. Bucky returned the hug, inhaling deeply as you squeezed his waist. “Good. Sorry you were worried.”

“S'alright doll.” He placed a kiss to the top of your head that you didn't seem to notice. “I didn't mean to wake you. Get some rest.” With that, Bucky left.

crossed out tags didnt work

@ghostietoastiee

@geeksareunique

@izzy10718

@anamcg317

@ayeputita

@just-add-butter

@nomadicpixel

@jayattemptstoruletheworld

@attorneyl

@redgillan

@moonstar86

@lostinspace33

@makloveswriting

#Bucky angst #bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes #maiseswritingchallenge #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #WINTER SOLDIER ANGST #the winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #james barnes x reader #sargent james barnes #fortune teller AU!#fortunate #BuckyMoreLikeFuckMeBarnes

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slayxwolf · 7 years

Text

Teen Wolf Imagine- What Happened to Y/N? (Part3)

Part1 Part2 Part4

Author’s Note- Guess What’s coming back after pretty much a year, I know I suck. The Third part to this series, HIGHLY SUGGEST reading part 1 and 2 if you already have because I've made slight alterations and it’s going to get complicated, enjoy x

Lydia’s Pov

“Look, I'm sorry for not telling you guys sooner. I just didn't want to break Y/n’s trust” Lydia spoke quietly. “Lyd, you did nothing wrong, she asked you to keep a secret and you stuck to your word” Allison reassured, rubbing her arm for comfort. “How long was it going on for?” Scott asked, pacing back and forth his livingroom.”Not very long, a few months maybe” she answered truthfully. “Are you sure you want to hear about this?” Stiles asked, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “No, but if it means finding my sister I’ll do anything” he stated. “She didn't mean to tell me- it just kind of slipped out one day” she began. Scott let out a small sigh, and flashed her a sympathetic smile. “I'm not angry at you, and I don't think it’s your fault in the slightest. I just need to know all the possible facts to try and find her” Scott crouched beside her, sensing the guilt and upset radiating from her. She nod her head slowly and gave a weak smile back, as tears began to well in her eyes. She had been holding onto them for so long that they chose that exact moment to make an appearance. Scott reached to hold her hand for added comfort, as she began to tell her side of the story.

It was a few weeks ago, at the seasonal party the sports players would throw to celebrate all of their achievements. Your brother and friends being on the Lacrosse team earned you an automatic invite each time. It was basically just another excuse for the Beacon Hills High jocks and friends to get wasted. You decided to go over to Lydia’s to finish getting ready, because you two are both usually an hour late and the rest of the pack end up having to wait around for you. “Heyy” you beamed, as she opened the front door. “Someone seems very happy” She laughed, as you walked in. “That is becauseee” you anticipated, before showing her the bottle of alcohol in your hand. “Y/n, are you encouraging the participation of underage drinking?” Lydia faked a gasp. “It appears I am” you laughed, as you headed up to her room. “How much have you already had?” she asked, shaking her head with a smile. “A few shots, maybe more” you shrugged, flopping onto her bed. “We’re going to be wasted before we even get there” she claimed, taking the bottle and taking a large drink of it. “That’s the point, we get there an hour later but we don't need to catch up with everyone else’s drinking” you educated. “Y/n most of our friends are supernatural and cant even get drunk, your brother being one of them” she laughed. “Oh yeah” you giggled. “I’m almost ready, so I’ll do your makeup for you to save time” she said, fixing her neckless in the mirror. It took her about 45 minutes or so, giving you time to sober up a bit more. “Why do you keep smiling like that?” she asked, while applying the finishing touches. You smiled and looked up at her, “Guess who I'm hooking up with” you slurred slightly, with a mischievous grin.

“Wait, so were they just hooking up, or were they dating?” Allison asked, edging forward. “She never said” Lydia shrugged, shaking her head. “Did you ever ask her?” Stiles questioned. “No, she didn't really like to talk about it that much, so I didn't ask questions” she answered. “I cant believe he still hasn't come forward” Allison mumbled. “It’s the first thing he should have done” Lydia agreed. Scott stood staring at the ground in thought, he didn't really know how to feel right now. “I need to talk to him” Scott eventually spoke. “I think you should wait a bit, give yourself time to take it in” Stiles suggested rationally. “Do you know anything else, anything at all?” Allison quickly asked. “Ermm- the pep rally. He was the last one of us to see her” she suddenly remembered, widening her eyes. “Wait- what?” Stiles asked. “We were dancing with her, and then she disappeared” Allison said, looking at her quizzically. “I saw him staring at her from over the crowd, the next time I looked he was walking off with her following” the image was a little fuzzy due to her being slightly intoxicated back then. “Are you sure?” Allison asked. “I'm sure” she claimed. “We need to find him, now!” Scott said firmly. Everyone stood up, as he grabbed his jacket. “Scott wait, you need time to cool down” Stiles tried to diffuse. “We need to talk about it, before we make any decisions” Allison added. Scott swung the door open, almost crashing into someone on the way out.

“Woah” Isaac said, by the sudden movement. “Scott are you okay?” he asked, as the other three made their way over to the door. “My sister” Scott growled. “You know don't you” he said, looking down. “Yeah I know” he said between gritted teeth, eyes glowing red. “Let him explain” Allison said, pushing past and standing in-between them both. Scott’s rage came second, to the grounding of his anchor, as his eyes faded back to brown. They all walked back inside the house, taking a seat on the sofas. Isaac put his head in his hands, slightly tugging on his curls in frustration. “Why?” was all Scott managed to say. “It wasn't planned, we just started kissing one day and one thing led to another and it became a regular arrangement” he justified. “Oh god” Stiles murmured, sensing the awkwardness himself. “You like her don't you” Lydia pointed out. Isaac glanced at Scott, before gently nodding his head. “Do you know how she feels about you?” Allison asked. “No, I couldn't tell if she liked me or if it was just for-” He began, but cut himself off. “Look I don't know where Y/n is, I know just as much as you do” he claimed. “You were the last one to see her” Stiles stated, folding his arms. “I was also the only one to notice she was gone” he quickly fired back. “If I hadn't texted her, then you wouldn't have known that she went missing at the rally” he explained. He then proceeded to pull out his phone and pull up the texts. He handed his phone to Scott, who began to read them and conclude that the date and time matched up. “Why are you apologising, what did you do to her?” Scott asked, looking up at him. “We had an argument earlier on, when Lydia saw us” he stated. “Explain” Stiles imputed.

You followed Isaac into the men’s bathroom, which was empty luckily enough, before pushing the trashcan in front of it so no one else could get in. “What is the matter with you?” you asked him. “Nothing” he shrugged, not looking at you. “You have been avoiding me all day, I didn't even know you were coming tonight until Scott told me” you complained. “I'm sorry, next time I’ll ensure to be on my phone for all hours of the day” he commented. “No Isaac, don't make me sound petty when you know yourself that you’re being off with me” you stated. He was about to speak before there were loud knocks on the door. “Are you going to let them in? Considering it is a public bathroom and all” he asked, clearly so he didn't have to continue with the conversation. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong” you crossed your arms. “I needdd a weee” a deep voice called from outside the door, followed by laughs. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong” he said, walking over to you. “I love you Y/n, and you don't love me back and it is fucking killing me” he blurted out. You just sort of stood there staring at him, not sure what to do. “Isaac” was all you managed to murmur. “I'm sorry- just forget I said anything-” he suddenly said, brushing past you and out of the door. Everything seemed to feel hot, suffocating even. You then shortly walked out, pushing past the drunken boys who had chosen to fall asleep outside the toilets instead. That's where you felt the clarity of the air.

“So you told her how you felt and she freaked out?” Lydia asked. Isaac simply dropped his head. “I'm so sorry-” Allison said, knowing how shit he must currently be feeling. Scott locked his phone and past it back to him. “I'm mad at you for doing it behind my back, but I know you wouldn't hurt her” Scott spoke. Isaac looked up, as Scott pulled him into a man hug. He had to remember that he wasn't the only person to lose you, when you disappeared that day. “Do you know anything else?” Stiles asked. “Well there is something, she’d lie about it every time I would ask” Isaac began. “When I’d see her she’d be covered in bruises and cuts, and sometimes she’d be hurt pretty badly” he told. “Just like when she came home that day” Scott mumbled to himself. “She’d say it was from pack training or gym class, she would always have tons of excuses lined up” Isaac furthered. “We need to find out why she kept getting injured” Stiles suggested. “And who by” Scott finished.

Hope you guys enjoyed, it Is back at last. Let me know if you enjoyed this part or are enjoying it so far. Already started on the next part, I promise you wont have to wait another year for this one x

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spnbaby-67 · 7 years

Text

Craving You

Chapter Two:

Summary: Summary: What happens when you find out that your co-workers have been getting raises behind your back, and you so want to say something but in reality you know you can’t. You take off to a Starbucks you go to every day, and every day it’s the same thing. Until today! You run into him.

A/N: Hi everyone, here is part 2. Thank you so much for the comments on part 1, I’m still nervous about how it goes from here on out, but I promise it a good story. I want to thank Taylor at @impalaimagining for my amazing aesthetic to go along with this story, THANK YOU!! Also for the help with the beta. (Any other mistakes are my own) Also, Thank you to @secretfurrydragon for your help in encouraging me to continue and to all the other amazing writers that have encouraged me to write. THANK YOU. This is an AU Jensen is single even though I love Danneel and JJ, they are happy elsewhere for this story. My work is to not be published without my consent. THANK YOU!!!!

Warnings: None that I can think off, unless you think Jensen’s eyes need warning. Oh launguage.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles and Reader

I waited a moment to open my eyes, to let the anger seep through before I said something that I would have regretted. Thank god I did. I saw the most beautiful pair of candy apple green eyes looking down at me with concern. I heard him talking to me, asking me if I was ok. Of course, trying to respond to his question was its own challenge. It was like my body decided to go limp at the sight of his beautiful face. I knew then, this was so going to haunt me, but what an amazing haunt it would be.

“Are you ok?” I heard him ask me again.

My eyes blinked, bringing me back to reality as I cleared my throat. Finally, I managed, “I am so sorry, um yes. I am ok. Are you? I mean, I totally bumped into you without looking, I am so sorry.” My throat swallowed nothing but dry air.

He smiled with a soft chuckle. “I’m fine, thank you. I’m sorry about your drink though, please let me buy you another one.” Before I could interject, he was already repeating my order to the barista as he ordered his. I have never been so embarrassed before, but his voice was velvety smooth, although a bit raspy. Oh, I could’ve listened to him talk all day long. He placed his left hand on my shoulder cautiously He probably thought I was dumb or mute or something, but as his palm landed on my shoulder, I took a quick glance at his hand then looked up at him.

“I um, overheard you mumbling under your breath earlier waiting for your drink. Everything, ok?” He took a couple of napkins to hand them to me so I could try and save my shirt. It was Friday, and I was thankful for the casual dress code at work.

“Oh yeah, that. Sorry, I didn’t really realize I was talking out loud,” Thanks, now I really feel embarrassed. I thought to myself as I looked down, still trying to fix my shirt. “Great, I have a meeting in 45 minutes. This will really go well with the introduction.” I chuckled as if there was nothing wrong.

I didn’t notice that he had gotten our drinks and had walked me over to a corner table. He pulled a chair out for me as I sat down, relentlessly trying to dry up the spilt drink. How he managed to walk away unscathed, nothing getting on him, was beyond belief. It was like he was a god or something, invincible to accidents. My mind couldn’t stop racing as I looked him over. He was gorgeous as fuck.

He sat down next to me with his palm on the bottom of my elbow, grabbing my attention. “I’m Jensen, by the way.”

I didn’t see the wink he gave me because my head was down a bit, but there was that voice again. I looked up at him with a smile. “I’m {Y/N}, nice to meet you.” I finally accepted defeat, losing the battle with my shirt and giving up. I’d come up with some kind of a crazy impromptu tale of what happened. Maybe I could even be dramatic and pray they’d go easy on me. I sighed as I glanced up at his face.

“So {Y/N}, what had you so upset that you were planning a murder earlier?” he chuckled a bit.

My face turned red, how much of my conversation did he hear? Oh lord. “I um,” I paused a bit with a hard swallow, “you heard all that?” I made a face like I had gotten caught with my hand in the cookie jar.

“Pretty much. Seemed like you were pretty upset.” He took a sip of his coffee.

Damn him, he could even make drinking coffee look hot. I shook my head. “It’s been a bad day, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to be bored with my crazy story.” I sat back in my seat and took a drink of my vanilla bean frap. Oh, the wonderful taste of it slid down my throat, cooling the fire raging within.

He raised his eyebrow at me. “Try me, I got time. Besides, from the sound of it, you need someone to listen to you.” He winked at me, and my body once again wanted to turn to jello. Who was this man? Why did he want to listen to me? I was just another nothing person trying to make it in this crazy ass world. Scratch that, I wasn’t anything but a shell of a human being.

I just wanted to crawl under the table and die. This man was so unbelievably, amazingly hot. I’d never had a guy this hot, this sexy, pay attention to me. I knew I wasn’t actually worth the trouble, or at least, I didn’t feel like I was, but there he was, asking me to tell him all about how Kali had ruined my morning. I knew this had to be some sort of dream.

“Well, it’s a long story, but have you ever felt like you’ve been cheated and not wanted in a company? They suddenly changed the rules on you and miraculously, you didn’t get a memo about it?” I asked.

He thought for a moment. “Actually, yes I have. In my line of work, that happens all the time. Things get settled and then suddenly a change comes into effect, even if it’s at the last moment. It’s aggravating, really.”

“I know, right?” I was talking with my hands, I guess he noticed because he slowly put his hands over mine. It was a nervous habit. “Well, I work with that company over there,” I pointed to it showing him through the window in front of us. “Sheppard, Pellegrino, and Singer, Advertising Agency for five years now. It’s been great, wonderful even. I work Monday through Friday, 8:30 am to 5 pm, with an hour lunch break.” I paused, I knew I had a meeting to get to, glancing at my watch.

“What happened? From what I heard you were pretty upset.” He sat back and crossed one leg over the other.

I tried not to look at the way his limbs moved. “Well, we had a ‘no seniority, no one is better than anyone else’ sort of thing going on in our company for the last five years, which worked out great. No one complained about raises or salaries. Kali, one of my coworkers, somehow managed to snake her way in and got a raise - a very good one too. Normally, I wouldn’t be upset. But if they went by seniority, she would have been below me. So it took me by surprise, to say the least.” I watched as Kali walked out of the building smiling, throwing her purse over her shoulder and looking for a cab. Jensen’s eyes followed mine after he noticed my squinting.

“I take it that’s her,” he nodded with his chin.

I let out a huff, “Yeah miss beautiful. miss perfect, miss all around smiling bitch who takes things from under your nose and throws them in your face. Yeah, that’s her.” He must have heard me grumble out loud because he laughed a deep, throaty laugh.

I smiled, glad to know someone was on my side for once. I looked at my watch. “Crap,” I stood up, my legs knocking against the table, almost spilling his drink in his lap. He grabbed it just in time. “I’m going to be late for my meeting. I’m sure you have a lot to do and thank you so much for talking me down.” We both were standing now.

He took my hand in his. The electricity that flew through my veins was... wow. I had never felt that before, and even though I have dated a couple of times, nothing had ever sparked with just a touch like that. Who was this man?

“Um, you said you had a meeting right?” he interrupted my thoughts.

“Yeah, I do. Don’t worry, I’ll figure all of this out. Again, I’m really sorry for bumping into you.”

“I’m not, in fact, you made my day.” He winked as he took his jacket off, then took me over to the side where no one was. He placed his jacket on the chair by us, then took his top shirt off and handed it to me. “I can’t have a beautiful girl be thrown to the wolves with a coffee stain on her shirt.”

“Oh no, I can’t.” I shook my head and tried to stop him from giving it to me, but he insisted.

“No, it’s ok. I promise.” He helped me put it on over my other one, covering the stain.

I smiled up at him, nearly in tears. No one had ever helped me like that, and it was very nice of him. “Thank you, seriously you didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s ok, I wanted to. Have a better day, ok?” He bent down and kissed my forehead, and with a blink of an eye, he was gone.

Did that really just happen? Who was that guy? All I got was his first name - Jensen. I knew I needed to know more about this mystery person. His shirt smelled like him, and his smile was the best thing I had ever seen. God help me...

#Unexptected surprise #jensen ackles x reader #Starbucks #spilt drink #cuteness

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katsbarrells · 7 years

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That I Would Be Good

(1/?)

Word Count: 1,675

Read On AO3.

Teaser: Nicole Haught could count on one hand the number of times she’d stared down the barrel of a gun. In fact, two of the five times had occurred the same night, in the same room, within the same ten minutes, with the eldest Earp standing on the other end of the barrel. Each time, she’d managed to walk away unscathed…every time – except for this one.

Nicole Haught could count on one hand the number of times she’d stared down the barrel of a gun. In fact, two of the five times had occurred the same night, in the same room, within the same ten minutes, with the eldest Earp standing on the other end of the barrel. Each time, she’d managed to walk away unscathed…every time – except for this one.

Before she could blink, before she could call out Waverly’s name, a fire was sparking within a long barreled Colt .45; and a piece of lead was slicing through the air and burying itself into the soft armor she had adorned beneath her uniform…through the armor and into her abdominal cavity. Level II bullet proof vests were standard for law enforcement officers across the country, but none of them were made to withstand the fatal combination of ballistics and magic.

Nicole hit the wall seconds after the bullet had already pierced her internal organs, and down she went.

“Now you know what it feels like when people take your things.”

*****

Death itself is both a painless and solitary experience. Death is the moment of silence, and for some, peace, bookended by a siren’s cry and immobilizing pain. The moments before and after death are the ones that count – the ones that follow everyone touched by its inevitability until they can experience it themselves. There’s a reason why humans are so profoundly affected by the death of another, and it’s found within the fabric of mortality. Even if they’ve not yet been wrapped within death’s embrace, they shaken her hand, they’ve brushed elbows, they’ve exchanged passing glances. Death does not discriminate, nor is she a benefactor of humankind. When a human dies, there are infinite realms to which their souls will travel – and death will grant them safe passage to their heaven or to hell – apologizing to the unlucky few who had no choice in the matter.

Nicole knew her fate beyond death, and she was determined to make the precious moments before her death as easy as possible for her Waverly. Her Waverly. Waverly Earp, who belonged to no man or woman, but still gave herself completely to those she loved. Waverly Earp, whose arms were wrapped around the shaking body of the wounded deputy. Nicole could feel Waverly’s tears crashing down on her own cheeks as the brunette hovered over her, pulling her fading girlfriend closer to her. Nicole closed her eyes, the fluorescent lights suddenly too harsh for her overwhelmed senses.

“Wynonna do something!” Waverly sobbed, reaching out to her sister with bloodstained hands.

The heavy soles of Wynonna’s combat boots shook the linoleum beneath Nicole’s body, and she opened her eyes to meet the Heir’s gaze. Garnering the strength she had left, Nicole shook her head and defied Waverly’s pleas for help.

“N-no. Earp. Go. Stop your dickhead sister, stop them.” Nicole could feel Waverly’s gentle hands moving frantically along her abdomen, tearing at the fabric of her shirt and finally, the bulletproof vest that had failed to perform. “Listen to me, Wynonna. It’s okay. End it.”

Wynonna nodded and knelt on the ground, kissing Waverly’s temple before bounding out of the building to pursue Willa. Waverly had no time to protest.

“Why would you do that?” Waverly choked. “We just got started!”

The lump that had built up in the back of Nicole’s throat had moved to the back of her tongue, and she couldn’t stop herself from gagging as the sobs broke loose. Blood trickled down the corner of her mouth, racing the tears that had already begun spilling out from behind her eyes.

“I know baby,” her voice cracked with fear. “It’s okay, Waves. I’ll be okay,” she forced herself to regain some semblance of composure. Nicole knew this was a lie, but couldn’t let herself break Waverly’s heart twice in one night.

“No. Please. You can’t do this.”

Nicole contracted her abdomen as she attempted to sit up, causing a spurt of blood to erupt from the gunshot wound. She could feel the dampness beneath her vest, grateful that Waverly couldn’t see the full extent of her injuries beneath the uniform. Waverly leaned down, pressing her forehead against Nicole’s. The youngest Earp shivered at the chill that had already overtaken Nicole’s body.

“I’m sorry, baby.” And she was. More sorry than she’d ever been in her entire life, and more sorry than she ever would be again.

“Nicole, stop. We can still get you help, okay? You can’t go!”

“Waverly, I need you to know. I love you.” I’m sorry for everything that comes next.

Waverly heaved, her foundation crumbling at Nicole’s declaration and shook her head in desperate denial. “No, we aren’t going to do this. You’re going to be okay.”

Nicole knew what was coming, and she knew that Waverly wouldn’t, or couldn’t, let herself say the words. And that was okay. It had to be okay. Instead, she brought a hand to the corner of her mouth and wiped away the blood that had begun to coagulate, staining the sleeves of her uniform for the last time. Her eyes searched Waverly’s own glassy hues, and the youngest Earp closed the distance between them – kissing Nicole with every ounce of life she had in her, hoping that somehow it would allow them to trade places.

It didn’t…but it was enough for Nicole. It was a goodbye.

The redhead finally broke the kiss, unable to breathe, and began coughing uncontrollably, blood pooling around her. Her body spasmed with enough force to break Waverly’s embrace. Nicole’s head fell into Waverly’s lap, their hands instead searching for one another.

Nicole looked up one last time and managed to smile, genuine and true.

“Be good for me, Waves.”

Waverly nodded and trembled. “Stay good for me.”

“Always.”

*****

The elasticity of time was a concept Xavier Dolls had found himself pontificating more than he’d like to admit. The way a year could feel like ten, the way a minute could feel like ten-thousand. In a year’s time, Xavier Dolls had stood by the Earp women as they dropped rose petals on the oak casket of Deputy Nicole Haught.

An entire year that felt like a lifetime. As the Earth made its sole journey around the Sun, he had seen tears flow like a raging river. He had seen demons make their peace while their mercenary swallowed more regret than he’d ever be able to chew.

He thought he’d seen all that a year could throw at him – until he saw Wynonna Earp’s body laying on the frozen dirt with soot stained cheeks and a stopped heart.

It only took ten seconds to revive her, to summon her back to the brink of consciousness. The Earp heir had died; though not for long.

And she didn’t come back alone.

*****

“God damn pot holes!”

Sheriff Randy Nedley threw his half-eaten bear claw onto the passenger’s seat of his patrol car, thighs burning from the scorching kiss of fresh, albeit spilled coffee. He hastily turned the wheel and slammed on the brakes, forcing the car to a sliding halt. He smacked the overhead-cabin lights on with his palm and scrambled for a napkin to wipe himself up with. As he searched, he made a mental note to send a memo to Purgatory Road Commission about how much coffee their negligence had cost him in the past week alone. He could have sworn he sent them an email about fixing the potholes on Rocky Point Road over a month ago.

Though it was well after 10 o’clock at night, the night’s previous snowfall still blanketed the ground, making the starless night sky look a little less abysmal.

“I found you, ya bastard,” he gleefully mumbled to himself – reveling in the solitude that permitted his private profanity. The lawman took the newly uncovered fistful of napkins and haphazardly wiped the stained fabric of his khakis. Nedley felt his heart break for just a moment. The pain burrowed deep in his chest. He knew it wasn’t his angina. Haught had always complained about the classic trouser, insisting that the fabric stained too easily and clung too awkwardly. Maybe she had been right. Maybe it was time for a change.

He closed his eyes and hung his head low for a moment in nameless meditation. He had always worked hard to maintain boundaries with his deputies, but Haught had gotten under his skin with the help of her tenacity and large, orange cat. God, he loved that cat.

Nedley opened his eyes at the thought of Calamity Jane – he was late to feeding her dinner. In Haught’s absence, he had adopted the little lioness.

Nedley transitioned the car back into motion and pushed onward through the night. As he crept closer to the edge of town, where his quiet little home with a view of the Rockies was placed, the already scarce lights began to fade away. Guided only by his headlights, Nedley spotted something moving roadside.

“What the – “, he pulled onto the side of the road and switched on his high beams. There was a body.

Instinctively feeling for his gun, Nedley gripped the handle, ready to draw at any moment. In a town like Purgatory, even road kill didn’t stay dead for long. He stepped out of his patrol car and slowly walked towards the body.

“Excuse me, are you alright? Can you hear me?”

The closer he got to the body, the more observations he could make.

Female. Caucasian. Above average height. Early to mid-twenties. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it was…

“Haught.”

Nedley fell to his knees and traversed the remaining ground between them from a crawl.

“Nicole, is that you?”

It wasn’t long before two crimson-colored eyes were staring at him. He scrambled backwards, startled but certain. He raised his hand up to his radio without breaking the dumbfounded stare he had cast in the wounded young woman’s direction.

“Earp, get to the station now. There’s something you need to see.”

#wayhaughtedit #wayhaught #wayhaught fanfic #waverly earp #nicole haught #mine:fic

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imnoexpertblog · 5 years

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Don't Stress, You're Blessed

This is the Health & Beauty Blog! I’m going to switch this up and gear it towards health this time; mental health at that. I have had a really hard two weeks, and it seems to keep dragging on. I’ve mentioned how hard it is to sleep lately, in the heat and light and noise. So to put you in my shoes, cut the amount of sleep you want to get in half these past couple weeks. The heat also makes it hard for me to eat. It’s hard to be happy when I don’t feel well, either. Now add being nauseous or having a headache from lack of sleep and food. Next, pretend it’s also shark week (what I nicknamed my period, its funny). Hormones are a-raging. Lastly, add anything that may stress you out, big or small. You’re now turned me into someone you really aren't. Someone you don’t even like. You're not you anymore. And it sucks.

I’m weird in the way that I can handle big problems/stressors very well. I can hold myself together (and everyone else, too). I can carry a great deal on my shoulders when I have to. The weird part is that I fall apart over the small things instead. Those are the things that push me over the edge. I can’t afford to fall apart during the big stuff, so sometimes I crumble with what most people would consider small or minor things. This is pretty hard on the people around me and I need to manage my reactions better.

First thing (for me) to stress less and be happier AND healthier; SLEEP MORE. I know getting enough sleep is very important. I know it. I used to sleep NO LESS than 8 hours a night. No matter what. It was a huge priority of mine. Sleep is still important to me and I still try to sleep as much as I can. But. Sleeping during the day is different. Besides the heat, noise, and light, things are happening during the day. Let’s walk you through something pretty common for me. Can’t get an appointment with the dentist until 10 am? Well it looks like I will have to attempt (and fail) at a short nap when I get home at 7:15 am. I do have to get up at 9:00 am anyway so maybe I won’t even sleep until after the appointment. Get home from appointment at 11:30am. Well, I will hopefully get 5 hours of sleep before Baby and Nugget get home this evening. Unfortunately, I can’t sleep through much anymore. So many things can wake me up very easily. At this point, I have awaken at 1:30, 2:45, and now 3:45. I’ve probably gotten about 3 and a half hours of sleep. I can’t fall back asleep. Guess I am up for good. My boys will be home in an hour or so, anyway. Maybe I will get a few more hours of sleep in before work at 11:00 pm. Maybe not. That is something I have to deal with all the time. Even if I don't have an appointment, I am woken up by the landlords cutting the grass or weed-eating, the neighbors hanging decorations up on the walls, sirens from police and ambulances on the nearby highway, etc. Falling back asleep can be really difficult after/during these instances. It feels like I can't catch a break.

Then for food. If I can’t fuel my body adequately, how can I expect to feel healthy? Trust me. I am well aware of this. The issue is if I am hot and sweaty and uncomfortable, there is no way I will be eating anything. I’d gag on it if I tried. Honestly, need to get back into meal replacement shakes because I have no problem drinking my calories/meals. I also just need to pound water as much as I can. I've mentioned the Keto diet is low-carb, which makes it harder for me to retain water. I have hormonal migraines (meaning as long as I have shark week, I will get migraines), but I am sure that water would help out a lot in general.

Now for the outside stress. Tackling this is a big project. Sleep and diet can only do so much for you. So. First things first. We need to pinpoint what is stressing us out. You can’t fix something without knowing what is causing the issue. My stressors are adult things that I cannot really escape. Saving for a house and wedding is hard. Not knowing how much longer I can work third shift is hard. I more or less just need to stop worrying about money, continue to save, and look into first shift positions. I tend to get worked up about the unknown very easily. That’s my anxiety. At least I know and recognize this. What is stressing you out? Money? School? Work? Explore your emotions and why you feel the way you do. It always points to something. Some say writing about your stress helps. Journaling what is stressing you out, how you feel about it physically and emotionally, how you are reacting/responding to it, and how you relieve that stress. Things like this are helpful to refer back to, especially when trying to stop a cycle or pattern. Or if you are trying to instill better habits.

Now that we hopefully know what is stressing us out, we can try to avoid those things. Personally, I need to notice when I am overthinking and put an end to it. That’s a big issue in my life. Something may not be a big deal, but I can’t stop thinking about it over and over and over (anxiety) until it’s become a huge problem in my mind. A problem so big that I work myself into a panic or rage. Something else that seems to really weighs on me is what my family thinks of me and what I am doing with my life. I mentioned in my first blog post, Let Me Explain… and About Me that my parents have put a lot of pressure on me to succeed ever since I was pretty young. I've taken over the role for them since having moved out four years ago. I know they think highly of me, are proud of me, and expect nothing less than excellence. I now do the same to myself. The feeling of letting them down or disappointing them absolutely terrifies me. I need to learn to let go a little bit. I know they love me and that they are fully aware that I do my best when it comes to anything. Easier said than done, but these feelings I get are unnecessary. They may be warranted, but that doesn’t mean they are obligatory. Its not like anyone in my family makes me feel inadequate; I really do this to myself out of fear. My desire to make them proud is very driving (and driving me nuts LOL). Are there things in your life you can cut to avoid any extra stress? Do you need a new job schedule? New job in general? Are there certain people that you shouldn’t have in your life? Are there things you have been putting off that need to get done?

If there are things you absolutely can’t stay away from, you can try to change the situation. There are things you can control. I knew I was behind on sleep this week so I took a day off to catch up. You can also change the way you handle a situation to make it less stressful. My personal example it that I can’t avoid the fact that we need to save money so I made changes in my budget to make it easier. Compromise isn’t always fun but it is a must. It would be very difficult to save money if I shopped every Friday or went out to eat a few times a week, but I cut those things out of my budget.

As much as I don’t use this tactic in the moment, I really think it’s great. Think about the cause/issue of your stress. Will this even matter in 5 hours? Will it matter tomorrow? Next week? Next month? Next year?! Most of the time; HELL no. Then why does it matter now? It doesn’t. Don’t let your emotions run you or control how you react. It is so easy to be bothered sometimes; to worry. But isn’t life so much better when you’re happy? I really have to remember this one for the future. Also ask yourself if you’re being realistic in your expectations of something. I cannot expect everything to always go according to plan, no matter how badly I wish it would. I get very bent out of shape when routines are hindered. I crave structure and consistency. The minute something has to change unexpectedly, I immediately get anxious. Realistically, that is normal. I cannot control everything. I just need to remind myself of this.

Something that helps: TALKING. I encourage you all to talk about this stuff. With whoever you want. Family, friends, spouses, a professional, anyone. Sometimes I think I talk too much, vent too much, complain too much, but it’s actually how I work through these things. It’s also sometimes how I realize I am being ridiculous. It helps you discover things like why you feel a certain way, what might help, etc. When the issue is out of your hands and you can’t do anything about it, talking can still be therapeutic and helpful. You can also use the typical advice of relieving stress through physical activity. SO many people go to the gym. Take a break and do something new or fun?

The last thing I want to touch on is something I really struggle with in these stressful moments; being positive and forgiving. Rather than focus on what went wrong, I need to remember what is right. There are silver linings, and those are the things to pay attention to. Things happen that aren’t anyone’s fault. There just isn’t anyone/anything to blame sometimes and that is okay. Even if there is someone to blame, letting go is better than holding it against them. Turning energy into hate and resentment is a waste. You should use your energy towards being happy.

Baby is always there to take my venting, my frustrating, my monster. Whether he deserves it or not. He is so patient and understanding. Although I appreciate it, that can only last so long. There are only so many apologies I can give before they don't mean anything. I don’t want to be the monster I am when I am overwhelmed. I don’t want him to have to ever feel like he’s “putting up” with me. He is there for me to lean on, not use as a punching bag. He knows why I get like this sometimes but that isn’t an excuse to be that way. I need to practice what I’ve just preached and harness this energy I have in being frustrated and difficult, and redirect it to being the happy person I know I am. I have too good a life to be unhappy.

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twilightprince102-blog · 7 years

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Some Moral Support

Summary: A Sing (2016) AU in which Meena has a friend that supports her on her journey. But at what point does it turn into too much?

Chapter Two: Auditions

In which Jude shows their rage mode.

[Previous] [Next]

That night, Jude stayed at the Ini household, listening to different songs with Meena to help decide what she would sing for the auditions. Jude munched on the three layered cake, complementing on how the cake had three different flavors just in one slice! Mrs. Ini was charmed, and left the two alone so they could focus on their work. They went through what felt like hundreds of different albums for the rest of the day, until finally deciding on a song: “Chandelier” by Seea. The song itself may not sound good to some, but with Meena’s special vocal flair, she can make anything sound amazing!

Then, the two decided to practice the best way they knew how: The Karaoke machine. It was an old machine that the two friends used all the time when they were kids; singing as if they were in a gigantic concert! Meena carried the dusty old relic out of their closet, dusted it off, then plugged it in. Then after Jude put the CD into the tray, Meena and Jude sung together for over half an hour! The two wanted to make sure 100% that they were ready for tomorrow, knowing the lyrics and such. But after much giggling and eight repeats, Meena’s grandpa popped in and asked the two to rest up for the night. Whether he wanted the two to get up early for auditions or he got tired of hearing the same song over and over, nobody was sure. But regardless, the two got their PJs on, laid down (With Jude, on a guest mattress that Meena had put in her room), and went right to bed.

The next morning, Meena and Jude were woken up at 5:00 AM to get prepared early. After eating some delicious pancakes made by Mrs. Ini, the two took a bus downtown to get to Moon Theatre and try to beat the line. The two managed to get a good spot at the front, where there was just enough seats for the two of them to fit. Jude was holding on to some spending money Meena’s parents had given them if they got hungry while they were out. After stuffing the bills in their pocket, Jude went off daydreaming about some things while Meena put her headphones in to listen to Chandelier again. The bus went by a couple more stops to pick up more and more animals, who all seemed to dress up nicely today. Jude nudged Meena and pointed to all of the other passengers.

“It looks like everyone here had the same idea.” the jaguar whispered. Meena started to look slightly nervous as the bus pulled into one last stop before downtown. More animals hopped on, including some timid sheep, a trio of sassy bunnies, a porcupine duo, an upbeat gator, and a female pig. The last one, however, accidentally fell flat on her snout as she was prancing up the steps, causing the two friends and some other passengers to let out an “oooooohh.” But she still got up enthusiastically and sat in an open seat across the isle, gently rubbing her snout.

After a 50 minute bus ride filled with animals of all sorts of shapes and species, they rounded the corner to the street of Moon Theatre! Everyone looked out the window to see the towering building loom over everyone, tempting them to rush inside and perform their absolute best! Meena however, was not one of those people. When she saw the large theatre and just how big it was, she started to become visibly nervous. Jude could hear her calm breathing change into a slightly nervous one, with sharper breaths and fidgety hands.

The large line waiting right outside didn’t exactly help either. It stretched from the entrance of the building, to two other buildings down! EVERYONE had the exact same idea the two had, and some even got in earlier than they usually did! The two friends gave each other a certain look, as in a “This is going to be a long day” type of look. But the worst part of it all? The bus station was right next to where the line currently ended.

As soon as the bus pulled to a stop and opened its doors, EVERYONE leaped from their seats and made a mad dash to the front door, pushing and shoving others to get a good spot in line! The last three that were left on the bus were the friend duo and the female pig. The lady and Meena were grasping the seats of the bus, not prepared for the commotion that just happened. Jude, however, took a different approach than the other timid two.

“Oh yeah, nice for you to show some courtesy to the other people on the bus! WHO WERE ALL AT THE FRONT TO BEGIN WITH!!!” they yelled out the door to the other rude animals, furiously shaking their fist at their fellow passengers. None of them even looked back to the jaguar.

“Believe me kid,” the bus driving rhino pitched in, “when you’ve been doing this type of gig as long as I have, you get used to behavior like this.” Jude scoffed at the driver for no reason in particular, and helped Meena (who in turn helped the pig) off of the bus. They all looked at the long, long wait ahead of them; the line had stretched another building’s length just from the passengers on the bus! One more decided to hop in front of them; A large, burly gorilla that skidded to a stop on his skateboard. So all sighing, they got in line and started the long, agonizing wait to get in for auditions.

“Alright alright move it chumps! Actual performer coming through here!” A fairly authoritative sounding voice rang out. Jude and Meena looked behind them to the source of the voice and found a small, snow-colored mouse dressed in red and black. He was holding another one of the orange flyers in his hand, and was walking by everyone as if he had some sort of authority over them. Jude did not take this lightly. They flicked their tail willingly to block the mouse’s path before he could go any further.

“Hey, what’s the big idea?!” the mouse yelled to the jaguar. With a sassy hand on their hip, Jude flicked her tail again to push the mouse back further in the line. “Wait your turn like everybody else here shorty.” They spoke. The blood-dressed mouse chuckled.

“Ha! Do you even know who you’re talking to ki”-

“I wouldn’t care if you were some sort of president from across the sea. We got in line before you. Wait your turn.”

“Yeah, just stop complaining and be patient.” the gorilla in front of them added on, getting tired of the mouse’s “Authority” just as fast as Jude did. Jude already liked this man, and his English accent. Seeing tired of arguing, the mouse stepped behind the pig and just waited like the rest of them.

Meena took another look up at the theatre, soaking in the atmosphere like a big absorbent sponge. It felt very obvious to her that she seemed scared, but she just blasted the music a bit louder in her sensitive ears to try not to focus on the impending terror she would have to face. But she couldn’t resist, and looked back up at the building one more time. Through one of the higher-up windows, she could see a properly dressed koala look down at the long stretch of animals, smushing his face against the glass to see the length of it. ‘That must have been Mr. Moon.’ the elephant thought. She would have to face him soon, head on, and sing straight to the owner of this large, intimidating theatre. Needless to say, that thought didn’t help, and it showed.

“Hey hey hey hey! Calm down Meena, it’s alright!” Meena felt a gentle paw on her shoulder, and looking back to Jude brought her a smile, but not calm. “It’s okay Meena girl, just”-

“Take some deep breaths dear.” The pig behind the two spoke in a motherly tone. She stepped a little closer to the two and waved her hoof. “Come on now, just like this.” The elephant willingly followed along with the pig’s instructions; breathing in for a count of three, then exhaling for a count of four. The woman had her hoof rise and fall whenever she breathed in or out, helping the elephant along. Eventually, after about a minute or so, the woman’s advice proved successful, and Meena’s breathing was back to normal.

“I deal with this sort of stress lots of times back home. Whenever I get overwhelmed by all my little rascals, I always just close my eyes and take some deep breaths to calm me down. Sometimes, you just need to stop and take a moment for yourself. And that is perfectly okay.” The woman rummaged around in her short, yellow purse of her’s then pulled out a wrapped up stick of gum to offer it to Meena. She gratefully accepted it, saying “Thank you ma’am.” in a gentle tone.

“Call me Rosita dear,” Rosita said, “and it’s no problem at all.”

About 45 minutes pass by, and the trio have officially gotten bored. Meena had gotten slightly tired of hearing Seea for the 20th time, so she swapped through some other songs she had and tried to focus on those. Jude, using the money the Inis had given them, had gotten a small bucket of glazed doughnut holes from Joe’s Coffee for both themselves and some people nearby in line. Rosita only accepted one, not wanting to be rude and refuse, and the gorilla in front (who introduced himself as Johnny) refused, seeing it as rude to take some of their food. They offered none to the mouse.

But after another 10 minutes, something finally happened to quench their boredom! A Channel 9 news van pulled up to the scene, with a cameraman hopping out of the side, following an anchorman weiner dog. The people in line clambered to get into the shot before the camera even started to roll! They then proceeded to interview some of the contestants waiting in line, like a very eager hippo up a couple ways in front of them saying that he was “Born with the gift to SING!”

Eventually, the anchorman reached where the friend duo were standing, and by some miracle, they had chosen to interview Jude!

“Now, how are you feeling about being able to show off your talent to the world?” The dog asked, pointing the microphone to the jaguar. They chuckled, and leaned into the mic.

“Sir, I’m sorry, you are mistaken. I’m not here to sing.” Jude said in a boasty type of tone. “No, what I’m here for is to support my best bud, and singing sensation, Meena Ini!!!” Jude stepped to the side and thrusted out their arms to behold their best friend as if she was some sort of legend! Meena hid herself behind her large ears again to not face the camera, but seeing as how they would see her anyways, she waved to the camera with a shy smile on her face. Johnny laughed a little in front of them from Jude’s enthusiasm.

“Let me tell you. This girl right here,” they put a paw around Meena’s back, “we’ve been friends since kids, and I have HEARD the pipes this girl has! So I don’t even care about the money, as long as I can help this girl through today, that will be a win for me Bob!” The dog and cameraman cat chuckled from Jude’s over-confidence in their friend, and said into the mic “Well, you sure have quite the enthusiasm!”

“Yeah, well too bad that it won’t getya anywhere.” Jude groaned from the familiar sounding voice from down below. The news casting duo directed their attention to the red-clothed mouse next to them. “And what is your name sir?”

“Name’s Mike, now listen up chumps.” Mike straightened his clothes and spoke into the mic.

“Now I’m sure you’re gonna get some more animals in this line like spots over here,” he jerked a thumb to Jude, “where they say things like “Oh it’s not winning it’s the taking part that counts!”” Mike had went into a high pitched voice and waved his arms, attempting to mimic Jude and their enthusiasm. The jaguar growled, showing a bit of their pointed teeth.

“Yeah yeah, not me pal I’m here to win.” Mike lifted up the orange promotion flyer and pointed to the big, bold $100,000 on the front. “That prize? It’s mine!”

One more hour passes, and the group finally gets into the building! Meena was using Rosita’s deep breathing techniques to calm herself down while chewing on the minty gum. The two had filled out a form together listing their name, home, and song they would be singing on stage for the auditions. Meena mainly filled it out herself, but Jude added in on the bottom “Friend also here for moral support, not competing.” As they filled out the form, the loud noise of an amp being turned on rang throughout the building, hurting Jude and Meena’s ears. Deciding to investigate, Jude sneaked up to one of the doors leading into the lower seating section and peeked through.

They found the front stage occupied by the same porcupine duo from the bus, rocking out a terrible, loud song on their guitars together that just made their ears hurt! It just mainly seemed like loud noise grouped with loud yelling, not singing. Although, Jude did like the girl rocker’s voice when she burst out on a short solo. But for both her sake and the rest of the line’s, Jude closed the door and continued with the line. Johnny complimented on how the girl on stage sounded, saying that it “had some good feeling put into it.” Couldn’t deny that.

Then finally, after 18 more minutes of waiting, the group all managed to get to the front of the line on stage right! Everybody started to get themselves prepared: Johnny giving himself some pep-talk, Rosita humming to herself of Firework (which Meena assumed what she would be singing), Mike being cocky and just acting laid back, and Meena trying to use Rosita’s deep breathing again. The mint gum that she was chewing on had lost its flavor after all this time, so she spat it out in the plastic bucket that Jude offered her.

Johnny was called to the stage, and began to sing “Stay With Me” by Dam Smith. Jude had to admit, he was pretty good. ‘But not as good as Meena will be!’ they thought. So Jude tried one last time to calm Meena’s nerves.

“C’mon girl, look at me.” Jude placed their hands on Meena’s shoulders as she started to grasp her palms tightly together.

“Listen girl, when we get up on that stage, just close your eyes and just breathe. Take however much time you need to calm down, just know that I’ll be here.”

“Actually could you not?” Mike butted in rudely, pointing at his miniature watch. “I have a certain schedule to keep, got some perfoming to do tonight.”

“Oh shut up you!” The Jaguar flicked its tail to send the mouse’s hat flying off in the other direction. Mike gave a glare to the two, then stomped off to go find his hat.

Johnny had just finished his song, and jogged back offstage as the lizard assistant in the audience called Meena’s name. The gorilla gave the two reassuring finger guns, and went to go wait with the rest of the contestants. Jude put a paw on Meena’s back to help them out of the side-stage and onto the main floor. They both went slow, Jude keeping a good pace to match their friend’s. But the two weren’t watching where they were going, and accidentally tipped over the microphone. Meena hastily tried to pick it back up, apologizing to Mr. Moon and his lizard assistant.

“Hey, it’s alright, you know? It’s alright!” Buster turned to face Jude. “And you said on here that, erm,” the koala skimmed through what the two assumed to be their form, “ah, just some friendly support, correct?”

“Yes sir. Meena, sometimes freezes up on stage, so I’m just here to help her out. Just a friend helping out their girl!” The jaguar said with a chipper attitude.

“Ah, well then. Don’t worry Meena, this is very natural for many different people.” Buster explained in a calming tone. “We’ve already had a couple good people here decide last second they didn’t want to compete because they didn’t like crowds! You don’t have to feel ashamed about bringing along a friend.” Meena felt slightly reassured by the kind koala’s words, and just to be sure, Jude gave a friendly pat on her back.

“Now, take it away Meena!”

The song Meena had chosen began to play, skipping the usual intro of silence she usually heard from all those times she heard it on the wait here. Not knowing what to do first, Meena adjusted the Microphone stand to fit her height, then took a deep breath. She knew the lyrics, she knew the pacing, and she knew how she would deliver it. All she had to do was let it out of her system!

But it wouldn’t come out. Meena knew what to do, but she just couldn’t! Her head got tense, and her breath started to speed up again while she blankly stared at the mic. Jude recognized their friend’s panic, and tried to bring her back to reality.

“Come on Meena, snap out of it. I’m here girl, I’m right here.” Jude put her paws on the elephant’s arm, but she did not look back to her friend. Meena started to hyperventilate, her breaths becoming faster and faster and faster to the point of a full on panic! Buster looked from his assistant, then back to the two, asking “Um, do you want to start over?” Meena still didn’t answer. But one voice finally snapped her out of her trance.

“Alright, enough of that! That’s quite enough of that!” Mike the mouse shoved against the elephant’s foot, finally bringing Meena back to reality. The music cut off, and Jude looked down to see the rat yet again. They were about to tell Mike again to shove off, but Meena then looked down at the mouse and got willingly shoved along by the mouse. Jude watched in awe as Mike bullied Meena into getting off of the main stage, and exit stage left. “Off the stage Helga. C’mon you’re useless. Thanks.”

Jude felt something spark inside of them; a tiny little spark of anger that grew into a giant bonfire of rage! Jude gave a hardcore death glare at the mouse, and let out a low snarl. Seemingly unphased, Mike just looked up to the jaguar and asked “What? You want a-a freaking cookie or something? You and your friend, get lost!” When Meena turned around and saw Jude letting out their claws, they immediately knew something was wrong. And she was right.

The enraged Jaguar pinched the little, fragile mouse by the stomach with its claws and lifted it up high all the way until they could see eye to eye. Mike lost all of his cool, and started flailing around his arms like a panicked little child, screaming at Jude to “Let him down!” Buster put down the clipboard and quickly hopped out of his chair.

“You, will NOT ruin this moment for her!” Jude’s voice sounded more low and menacing from its previously cheery counterpart. Their lip curled up to show more of the menacing fangs. Jude could see Mike’s eyes widen larger than saucers. “She’s been gathering up all the courage she could get all day to come here, and she is NOT going to be stopped by a pip-squeak like YOU!!!” Buster made it all the way up the steps and tried to approach the two. “Hey, calm down” he said, and “Put him on the ground please!”. But Jude heard nothing.

“H-hey, come on pal, j-just put me back down! I-I’ll”- Any previous sign of Mike’s calm demeanor had completely vanished, and what was left was a crying, stuttering little baby. Jude put one of their pointed claws to the mouse’s chin.

“You will LET her sing her angel voice and you WILL let her have her moment, OR ELSE! GOT IT?!”

“JUDE STOP IT!!!” Meena screamed at the top of her lungs. Jude gasped, the yell brought them back to their senses. The jaguar looked around; Mike was scared to death, Buster looked like he was trying to handle a psycho out of a straitjacket, some other contestants including Rosita were terrified, and worst of all? Meena was on the verge of tears. Jude looked down at their clawed hands, and retracted them before any more harm could be done.

Slowly and gently, Jude put the mouse back on the stage, letting him run away from them. Then, ashamed, Jude put both of their unclawed paws to their face in shame. Meena grabbed Jude’s arm and started to walk to the left stage, not saying a word.

“W-wait, what about”-

“Let’s go Jude.” Meena’s voice was very shaky. Without arguing or debate, the jaguar complied, and let the elephant drag them out of the building, closing the door behind them with a mighty slam.

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poutineandgreencurry · 7 years

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Genesis

Officially landed in Bangkok and settled into our hotel as of 3 am. Capping off 26 hours of total door to door travel from White Rock BC to our classy digs in Thailand. Maggie and I have seen some strange things over the last day and I wanted to share some of those with you. Forgive the grammar and spelling. It's been a long trip and my mind hasn't fully recovered. We stepped onto the plane in Vancouver ready for our for 11 and a half hours in the air. We were joined by a happy Chinese fellow who alerted us early to some of the sounds we will become familiar with in Asia. The happy slurps of noodles. Slurps of beer. Slurps of everything and impressive nose clearing set the tone early but after we bonded over a shared Chinese beer we were fast friends. Being that I have been owning the Moniker "Thailand Jesus" since we announced our plans for the trip, I've felt pretty damn holy. I can only assume I'm even holier now because I was sneezed on by a Buddhist monk. That's how it works right? We also learned that all of Beijing is covered in teal green. Don't ask me why. It's just a thing. It's all we could see from the plane. We had a fun landing on two wheels and some impressive swerving but we made it to the first of our terminals. We enjoyed some sit down fine dining fare at the swanky Beijing Airport Pizza Hut. It was a class out the ass experience compounded by the fun and flirty light fixtures and the complete lack of interest in us by the entire staff. Once through the impressively unorganized and horrendously long lines at security, I enjoyed the surprising gender parity of China when I was felt up in an authoritarian security type way by a nice Chinese girl after the button on my jeans set off the metal detector. Also, good to note, they will full on grab your plums if their machine beeps near your crotch. It was a healthy inspection to say the least. On our flight to Bangkok, surrounded by mostly white people, we slept and complained a lot. As we crossed hour 22 of travel we also started to look increasingly haggard to the point where we started to repulse even ourselves. I did have a chance to poop on a plane though which is an experience I had yet to achieve in life #blessed. Once landed in Bangkok, we got to enjoy another traditional and unorganized line setup for 45 minutes or so in order to have our visas examined so we could leave the airport. We arrived in front of a stern fellow who motioned for us to hand over our documents and then never looked at us again. Proceeding to stamp things and type things and stare at our documentation for 5-10 minutes. He handed back our things without looking up or a word and we assumed we could go. A quiet and reverent customs experience to say the least. Which he did. We then took in some Thai culture as we walked past an Asian lady yelling at 5 or so security officers. It wouldn't have phased me but her wording was so out of the ordinary. In clear and present english, she yelled "I hate all of you. None of you are my friends!" The lack of profanity did nothing to remove the stark rage behind her rather polite words. Magic. After a harrowing taxi ride, from a very polite gentleman who seemed to enjoy riding up on medians and creating his own lanes, we finally checked in at our hotel at the crack of hour 26 bringing us to 3 am local time. The swanky "New Siam II". We handed over our passports and were given keys to our modest room overlooking a character building view. Or building building. They are building a building. We also managed to forget our passports downstairs. Quickest lost passports in the history of travel. Setting a high standard early. Then merciful sleep. I apologize for writing a figurative bible as a first post but I felt it was necessary to give you an honest write up of our eventful day and, as Thailand Jesus, it seemed fitting. More photos and what not to follow. Stay with us to see more of our trip. Cheers, Graeme and Maggie

#itbegins #theprediarreahdays #thailandjesus #bangkokdangerous #worthlessmillenials

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ecotone99 · 5 years

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[TH] Psycho

Due to circumstances outside of my control, I decided to move across the country. I left everything I had ever known behind. I don’t know if I’m happy about it, or if it’s going to work, but I know it is better than staying in New York. I’m getting ahead of myself however; I must go back to the beginning.

I had originally fallen into quite the routine to mange my stressors. I would wake up each morning at precisely 4:30am, from that time I would allow myself 30 minutes to shower, brush my teeth, get dressed, and brew my morning coffee while scarfing down a protein bar. I would then drive to the gym, arriving at precisely 5:30am each morning. From there I would spend 15 minutes stretching, utilizing bands and other implements to ensure that my body was prepared for my workout. Then I would spend an additional 10 minutes doing something to raise my heart rate, doing anything from jogging to light sled pulls. From there, I would spend the next five minutes warming up for whatever muscle group I planned on targeting that day. The time was then 6:00am and I would begin my workout. My workout would continue until 6:50am, at which time I would rush to shower and exit the gym in my suit by 7:00am.

I would then drive to a local diner a few minutes from my office, and order the same thing each day: A sausage, egg, and cheese sandwich with an extra egg and hash browns. Although slightly heavier than I would have liked, this meal allowed me to remain satiated until lunchtime. I would sip on coffee while reading the morning news upon my tablet, preparing myself for the day ahead. At 8:00am I would pay my bill, leaving the same tip each day, as It was customary that I would also receive the same waitress each day, who ensured that my coffee remained full, but not refilled too early, as that would ruin the ratio of coffee to creamer in my cup. She also reminded the cook that my eggs needed to be just slightly runny, and my hash browns crispy each morning. In fact, if she were to be off one morning, she would be sure to let me know so that I could make other arrangements. On those days she was absent, I would wake up 30 minutes earlier and arrive and leave the gym 30 minutes ahead of schedule to allow myself to run home and prepare my own breakfast before going in to work. I did not like to leave my meals to chance, because the times that my routine has been interrupted have been… unpleasant.

I would then drive to the office, arriving to my desk at precisely 8:30am. This is when my day would truly start. I would spend the next hour poring over the pre market transactions, attempting to glean anything I did not yet know about the securities which I was interested in or held positions in. Once the markets opened at precisely 9:30am, as they did every morning, I would begin making the trades that I had been planning in my head since I had left the office the night before. This would continue until 12:30pm, when I would rise from my desk and go across the street for lunch, again, ordering the same tuna steak and side of wild rice each day, with a large glass of sweet tea. There were two different hostesses that could be working this particular shift, depending on the day. I had trained, for lack of a better word, each of them to provide me the level of service I required to maintain my routine. Like my waitress at breakfast, they would ensure my glass remained full, and my meal properly cooked. They didn’t run quality control, per se, as it wasn’t their job, but they always let the chef know I was there, and reminded them of my discerning taste.

By 1:15 this meal would by over, and I would return to my desk for the remainder of the day. I would continue trading and going through research my team had prepared until 4:30pm when the markets closed. At this point, my preparation for the next day would begin. From 4:30pm until 6:00pm I would look over the rest of the research my team had prepared, do a little bit of my own, and develop a plan for the next day. At 6:00pm, I would drive home, shower, change into evening clothes, and cook myself dinner.

My dinner would be the only meal that was variable. It could be anything as simple as a cheeseburger, to something as elaborate as a sushi spread with some sort of exotic ramen I would prepare myself. Cooking gave me an opportunity to leave the analytical side of myself behind. Cooking was an art, something that I could deviate from the recipes that I was following in order to create an end result that I would be satisfied with. I didn’t prescribe myself a set time to complete this meal, due to the varying complexities of my dishes. If I needed to create something exceptionally difficult the next day, I would then begin any necessary prep work to ensure that meal would go smoothly. After this point, I would allow myself an hour of leisure, something like video games or Netflix, again, an escape from my analytical mindset. By 9:00 however, my day would be complete. I would then walk to my bed, and head off to sleep.

Each day had carried on in this template for years. I was content, and the rigidity of my schedule had allowed me to keep the anger that resided inside me under control. What my peers didn’t know about me is that it is extremely difficult for me to handle deviances from my sense of routine and normality. It is a condition that I do not truly understand. What I do know is that there is an inherent anger and violence to the way I perceive and react to the world. This is perhaps the price I must pay for my great analytical skills and intense discipline.

That is, until these urges became far too strong and I was able to resist them no longer. There came a day, that I let myself become consumed in them, and would do something that I wish I could say I regret. It began when I arrived to the gym, which was typically empty and somehow each piece of equipment, dumbbell, or rack I needed would be occupied by someone who had no idea what they were doing, frustrating me even more. Then my waitress at the diner was gone, and her replacement did an extremely subpar job in ensuring the quality of my meal. I was frustrated that my waitress had not warned me beforehand. . I kept the urges inside, but they began to pile up. The markets were crashing that day, something that many times before I had been able to predict, but today I lost vast amounts of money due to my error and the irrationality of the day’s events. I began to unravel, but was able to convince myself that any reaction was not worth it until lunch.

I ordered my tuna steak each day seared, with a crusted outside that contained seasoning, and a center that was raw but slightly warm, so as not to be jarring to my pallet against the hot outside. After waiting much longer than usual, the steak came out well done, ruining the cut of fish. That was when I could take these mistakes no more. I rose from my table and walked towards the kitchen to find the chef who had cooked my meal. It was a younger chef than I had typically seen working, but that made the mistake no more acceptable. It was clear that he had no respect for his clients, especially one important enough for the hostesses to warn him about. I then returned to the office, biding my time until the restaurant would close. The chaos around me as the markets continued to crash felt like a blur, I no longer cared and my analytical mind was no more. All I felt was an insurmountable rage that I had been able to keep deep inside for so long.

At precisely 9:00pm, the restaurant would close, as it did everyday. At 8:45, I rose from my desk and waited in the lobby of my building, waiting for the chef to exit. It took him 27 minutes after the 9:00pm closing time to exit the restaurant. I began to follow him home, waiting until he was in a back alley when I called out to him.

“How hard is it to follow simple instructions?” I ask him.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He retorts, clearly not recognizing me.

“My tuna steak. I order the same thing every single day. Every day my steak is ordered seared and yet you manage to mess it up, even after being reminded by the hostess and the ticket from the waitress.”

“Dude are you kidding me, you seriously are following me to bitch about your lunch being overcooked? Fuck off.”

“And now you’re going to disrespect me, after I gave you the chance to apologize or at least some justification for your actions?”

“Bro, it’s your lunch. It’s a piece of fish for Christ’s sake, if it’s that big of a deal to you you should have complained earlier and got the meal comped.”

“I think it should be clear that money is not my motivation for this. This is about respect and doing your job. This is about ruining my routine.”

“Your routine? What the hell are you talking about? You’re out of your mind.”

At that, he turned to jog away. But I couldn’t let this exchange go unpunished, so I began to chase after him. I didn’t know what I was going to do until I tackled him and felt the folding knife I keep in my jacket pocket press against my ribs. I reached into my coat, pulled it out, and began stabbing the chef in the back of the neck. I stood up, astonished at what I had done, but not necessarily regretful of it. It felt so good to release the anger I had been bottling up for so long. Once he had finally stopped his pitiful writhing on the ground, I hoisted his body into a dumpster, returned to my car, and drove home.

Once home, I cooked the dinner I had prepared the night before, and enjoyed the fact that it was properly cooked. The anger and bloodlust were still within me, and I left the steak even more rare than I typically would, letting the juice drip down my face as I ate. It was at this moment that I knew I must leave. I could no longer control what was within me, and if I wanted to continue living in comfort, I must go.

That night I packed all the items I thought I would require in this new life, and in the morning, after allowing myself to sleep in, something I never did, I walked to the bank and withdrew everything from my accounts in cash. I then drove to the dumpster I had left the chef in, and put the body in my passenger seat. On the drive to the river, I pulled each of his teeth and disfigured his face, so that he may be mistaken for myself if he were ever found. I then let the car roll into the river, and walked back to a main road to hail a cab to take me to the airport.

I flew to Colorado and purchased an isolated, but grand home to live out the remainder of my days, attempting to isolate myself from anything that I could lash out on. I was no longer the analytical, regimented freak I had been for much of my life, but I had become something far worse. I realized I didn’t care what the consequences for that release I had experienced through that killing were, I realized that the clarity it allowed me to feel was too good not to experience again.

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shadow-and-mist · 5 years

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Saints of Blasphemy: Chapter 1

"Pilot"

It's been hours since the lights had been switched off. Stillness claimed all the building as the rumble faded slowly within the dark. Soon after, it left it's place to rising snoring voices of the thin breathing shadows of big breathing fleshes. A man with a flashlight shattered the darkness that was laid on his way, walking with a baton on his left hand; causing echoing tickerings that would wake up the most vicious beasts in their light sleep. Not that all those animals are known for being the light sleepers already, ready to strike and guard in moment of distress even if they're deeply dreaming about the girl they used to see next door. The man walked around 45 feet forward, leaving footprints of thrice amount, with two big guys accompanying him. He was not afraid and took brave steps until he reached his destination.

"Saints. It's time to get up."

The man with the baton spoke with a commanding voice, directing the light right onto the bunk bed that the men were sleeping on. The man on the top murmured with a sleepy voice, as his peer straightened up a tiny bit without any grumbling. A sudden strike on the iron with the body of the hard baton got the murmuring guy tumbling out of the bed, and it now woke all the beasts, and flinched some.

"Ahh... Was it... Was it really necessary? I was going to get up anyway... Gah..."

The man was either in a brief shock caused by the sudden violent voice or he had trouble waking up. No matter which is the case, the man that ruined his sweet sleep replied with a voice varying from the sincere friend to the boss.

"Yeah, tell me about it. Now get up. Hurry."

The guy on the bottom didn't even flinch at the sudden strike, he slowly got up and washed his face at the sink that was just next to their bed, as the other one continued talking after clearing his throat.

"Well, I know how much you like to take me to a night trip, Jerry, but please, can't I get some... like... me time or something? Like, you're more tedious than my ex, Natasha, you know..."

"You never had a girlfriend named Natasha."

His peer replied with a mild smile after drying off his face with a cheap gray towel that was probably white once. Then they both slowly took a stand against the source of light; head down, wrists over each other and arms extended forward.

"Well, yeah, you're right, brother. You know very well that I don't have a thing with Russian chicks no matter how hot they are."

The jailor in lead, Jerry, carefully placed his baton to it's socket and unlocked the prison door with wary steps as his men walked into the cell with a rush, handcuffing the brothers and taking a deep breath afterwards. Jerry, filled with the air of safety, too, slowly walked towards the brothers with a proud manner.

"Uhm... Hey, Jerry... Is your wife Russian? I could always make an excepti-" Jerry punched the talking brother in the face before he could finish his sentence and covered his big mouth with his hand, which is even bigger.

"Shut the fuck up now, Tommy, you know that I have the keys of the solitary.

"You know that it won't stop him, right?" his peer replied with a bored face now.

"Jesus, how do you even endure this, Jeff? he replied to the man as he took a step back. Tommy's smile, swimming in blood, was revealed and he licked it as they all started walking in the hall.

"You've been hearing him for only five years now. Add fifteen to that, and you get used to it. Barely."

As they were walking in the dark, this time with more feet in harmony, grunting and growling voices could be heard from the men in other cages. It was not the first time that the jailor woke everyone with a crash, even the neutrals that were doing their best to stay away from trouble were furious. They all blamed the duo, the Saints, and they got reasons to blame them.

"So, Jerry, did you ever bang a Russian?" Tommy asked out of nowhere and the jailor remained silent. Having no response, he turned to his brother, Jeff and whispered.

"She was probably an agent anyway."

Jeff was enjoying the view that his brother's blabbering was capturing the jailor's mind, bothering, and, even, maddening him along the road. It took five minutes walking between the roaring cells, and ten more under the bright lights. Every jailor and every clerk that faced them grimaced, almost looking disgusted of their presence. They made it to the biggest room in the whole building and Jerry knocked the door and entered in alone.

"Here we go again."

"Just leave it to me." Jeff replied his complaining brother when the jailor Jerry appeared once again.

"The manager is waiting for you. Tommy, don't forget to mention about crazy adventures with your... imaginary girlfriends. I'm sure Mr. Jones would like to hear about them." he said and departed with his men with laughter.

"Yeah Jerry, don't forget to mention me to your wife! I'll be expecting a call!" he shouted and Jeff dragged him inside the room.

The room was looking formal, tidy and black. Three things that Tommy couldn't stand. The man in the room, the so-called manager was slightly overweight, wearing a white striped black suit with galluses, smoking a Cuban cigar and gazing directly to the duo.

"What the hell did you guys do? Do you know about the consequences? Have you ever thought about it?"

"What about it?" Jeff was rather calm when the manager was in distress.

"Do you know about the man you recently killed, Jeff?"

"Yeah, sure. Which one?"

"You're surely driving me crazy here. You know, the one that you slit the throat of? Ring any bells?"

"All due respect, you're not being very specific here." he answered with a serious voice, which got the manager rising. He stood up and got to the yelling part quickly after.

"You slit his throat for fucking fourteen times, Jeff! His head was gonna draw apart from his body. Everything in his cell was painted red with his blood!

"Oh, yeah, that was a good one." Tommy laughed and approved but Jeff didn't even take his keen eyes off the manager.

"Shut the fuck up, Tommy!" the manager yelled out with all his voice. He was left breathless afterwards and opened the side window to get some air in.

"How did you get in his cell in the first place? He was a max-secured case... I just don't get it. This isn't a fucking playground. Just because you're sentenced to death, it doesn't mean you should bring the fucking death!"

"He committed a sin."

"Oh, yeah? That's what they taught you back in the church, Jeff? Be a slasher if someone commits a sin?"

"Oh, you would be surprised." Tommy got in once again with an attempt to share laughter, but seeing the furious eyes of the manager, he stepped back.

"What did he do, anyway? Did he call you a son of a bitch or something?!"

"Well, not me."

"Are you fucking kidding me? You killed a valuable prisoner just because he said some shit? Your Tom there left no mothers in their peace, Jeff!"

After a few minutes of silence, the manager, now with a calmer manner, poured some news to the brothers with a glimpse of both satisfaction and despair in his eyes.

"You should know that they're asking for execution. This time there's no bailing out of this. Even if they don't put you on the chair, Russians and Italians will get you done for good. You got no friends left here."

"We don't need any. We never needed one."

"You're not aware of the situation, are you? You guys are really bigot, bloodthirsty monsters."

The so-called brothers stood still as the manager looked at them in the eye for two or three minutes. His eyes were now filled with only despair, it looked like he was pitying, or even, feeling sorry for the duo. He made a quick call to the Jerry and other jailors that were in charge of the solitary.

"The court will decide on the execution matter this Monday. Five days from now. Tomorrow you can go back to your cell, after it's search is finished, but I recommend staying in the solitary and spending those five days together. Alive."

The jailors knocked the door and took the silent brothers. As they were leading the men to solitary, Jerry was very amused that that they were going to the boxes. It meant a victory for him. He messed with Tommy on the road but the Saints were unresponsive to anything they said or done. They both were thinking and saving their words. Jerry opened the door of one of the closed, dark iron cages and waited Jeff to get in.

"What time is it, Jerry? I'll have the lawyer visiting me as early as possible."

"It's five, but you can't make a call anyway, so enjoy your misery here."

"And why's that we can't make a call?" Tommy asked curiously and Jerry looked at his mates to prepare them for the moment.

"Because, I, don't feel like it is needed.""

"I just wish your dad didn't say the same thing about condoms, you shit."

"Oh, just get in the box and cry me a river, Tom."

Jeff was standing in the dark, waiting for Tommy to get in, but he didn't intend to step back as he was very furious. All the laughing and mocking of the jailors did nothing but to add to his rage. He was keeping himself back, constantly checking his brother's face, looking like waiting for permission but Jeff was just shaking his head slowly to each side.

"Yeah, listen to your big brother and get in now, Tom." Jerry said with a serious voice in middle of a laughter and Tommy took it as a humiliating challenge and just stood upright in front of the door, not moving a bit and gazing at Jerry.

"Tommy, just get in. No more trouble."

Jeff said, knowing that it would be no use. Jerry, seeing his headstrong stance, pointed Tommy with his finger and his men kicked the young boy down and beat him up with batons for a minute or two. They threw the Tommy like a garbage sack to the solitary cell and closed the big, iron door afterwards. Jeff walked to his brother that was laying on the floor and offered his hand to get him up but he refused when Jerry's smirk covered the sliding window on the door.

"I don't care what the manager says, you'll be here for days, no food, no water. Perhaps then you will learn how to behave, fucktard."

The sliding window was then closed and it now was totally dark inside. The laughter of the jailors faded with distance and Tommy slowly crawled to a corner. The brothers' eyes didn't adapt to the dark yet, but hearing the coughing and spitting, Jeff realized that his brother was having trouble breathing.

"Lungs?"

"I'll kill that bastard."

"He didn't do anything."

"I'll kill those two motherfuckers too!"

"You did it to yourself, Tom. Manager was right about one thing, you gotta think about the consequences."

Tommy stopped coughing and his breathing turned to normal after a five minutes or so, the dark now was accompanied with a complete silence which bothered him.

"Then why did you kill that man? You knew that, he was not our business."

Jeff remained silent and he crouched to a corner as well.

"You think they'll put us on the chair this time?" Tom continued.

"No."

"You still trust that old fuck? He sold us out, bro. Don't you get it?"

"I trust no one, Tommy. Especially him."

"Then how can you be so calm?"

Jeff, again, didn't reply and he lied on the floor. Using his arm like a pillow, he made himself comfortable on the hard consecrate ground.

"Take some sleep, will you?"

Tommy didn't say anything in response. He crouched down and hugged his legs. He stood like that for five to ten minutes until the sense of exhaustion took over his body, and he too, slowly gave up himself to sleep.

It was not the first time they were locked up in a small box, or young, chatty one took a harsh beating. The execution warning was not new to the brothers either, but Tommy was feeling different this time. He was not afraid of dying but who would welcome the death anyway? He knew something was happening but they hid it from him. As he had nothing in his hands more, all he could do was to trust in his big brother, Jeff, who also have been acting very strange lately. The bond between the so-called Saints were very unique, they wouldn't mind to kill or die behalf each other, which came from the sense of family, which made them brothers in the first place.

While they were sleeping on the floor, approaching footsteps beyond the door opened the tired eyes of Jeff. The door got opened and four officers, that were not with Jerry, looked inside and called for Jeff, when Tommy was, again, murmuring in his half-sleep.

Jeff quickly got up to answer the call and followed the officers. Jailors were leading him to meeting room with a rush, Jeff didn't say a word on the road but he was confused that Jerry wasn't there. It was early for his shift to be done and there was no chance that they slept for more than five hours already. He entered the meeting room to see his lawyer, wearing an expensive dark-scarlet suit and looking at him with arrogant eyes. Jailors took him to his seat and engaged to lock his handcuffs to the table, but the lawyer insisted that it was not necessary. The jailors nod and left, now it was only Jeff and the swelled head in the room, facing each other.

"I got some news, dear Jeff."

"Good ones or the bad ones?"

"Depends on you. They really want to put you on the chair this time."

After a few seconds of silence, a grin covered the face of the lawyer and he continued.

"Congratulations."

"I did what you asked. Get to the good news."

"Well, the request will be discussed on Monday. I can do something about it."

"And?"

"Did you do your part of the deal, Jeff?"

"I got the man. He can't talk anymore, so your dirty arses should be safe."

"Yes, but did you get any papers, or a phone, anything?"

"His cell was empty."

"How do you know?"

"They always tell the truth when they're against me. Especially if I am holding my knife."

"I see...I have one more request, then."

"We had a deal, and I did my part. Now it's your turn."

"I don't think you're on a seat that you can negotiate, Jeff. Do not get angry, I have only one more request. A small one. Then I'll get you two out of this."

Jeff was feeling stuck. He knew that he was dealing with the devil himself, but he had no other chance. He was in the hands of the man, and he could ask for anything to be done and then leave the brothers to trail of the incoming death. Jeff knew the danger, but he had no chance but to agree to his terms. They discussed the "small request" that was undeniable, and jailors came and took Jeff when his meeting time was over.

"Two days. I'll see you Friday morning."

Jeff said and gazed upon the lawyer as he was being taken out. He expected to be in the solitary once again, but instead, the jailors dragged him to the other way. The other prisoners, seeing that they're out of their pit now, were clenching their fists and expecting the jailors to leave. Another group of jailors were dragging Tommy there as well, and he was swearing to some other men that were threatening him on the road. The brothers, formed together at the entrance of the prison yard, facing all the other convicts, knew that they were the food in a lion's cage.

"Oh, hey, brother. So, what do we do now?" Tommy asked with a worried voice.

"We stay alive."

#story #saints of blasphemy

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campus3deducacion · 7 years

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TX Examiner: Reinstate FF Accused of Hitting Elderly Man

A state examiner has ruled for the reinstatement of Fort Worth firefighter Shea O’Neill, who was fired after being accused of hitting an elderly man. The examiner says his suspension and termination violated his right to due process.

June 7–FORT WORTH, TX — A state hearing examiner has ruled that a Fort Worth firefighter who was fired after being accused of hitting an elderly man during a TCU football scrimmage should be reinstated, saying the city’s investigation into the 2015 incident ignored key evidence and violated his rights.

The city disagrees and wants a judge to block his return to work.

Shea O’Neill, 44, should be allowed to go back on duty with back pay — minus earnings from any job he’s held since his suspension began in July 2015 — and have benefits and seniority restored, the hearing examiner, AlmaLee Guttshall, ordered May 24.

O’Neill "did not receive reasonable or appropriate due process," Guttshall wrote, saying that "the facts and allegations were not fully investigated." At one point in her 45-page ruling, she accuses the Fort Worth Fire Department of conducting a "kangaroo court" when deciding to give O’Neill an indefinite suspension.

"The total and seemingly intentional failure of (Fort Worth Fire Department) Professional Standards to afford (O’Neill) his due process rights is sufficient on its own to grant the appeal and overturn the indefinite suspension entirely," Guttshall wrote.

But O’Neill has not yet been allowed to return to work. Instead, the city filed a lawsuit in Tarrant County civil court Friday, asking state District Judge Michael Wallach to uphold O’Neill’s indefinite suspension, claiming that Guttshall "exceeded her jurisdiction" in her ruling.

"We disagree with the hearing officer. … We do not believe we infringed on the due process rights of O’Neill," Assistant City Manager Valerie Washington said. "We respect the hearing officer but we want to move forward with our appeal rights as well."

O’Neill called the arbitrator’s ruling "fantastic news" but was disappointed that the city went to court to appeal the decision stemming from a December 2016 civil service commission hearing.

"Now that we get a ruling and some justice, the city is going dig up something bogus and drag us into court one more time," O’Neill said. "The whole thing is shameful."

The attorneys representing O’Neill described the city’s appeal as being without factual or legal merit and the relief requested from the court is not permitted by law.

"In our opinion, the city should simply follow the final and binding arbitration decision," Matt Bachop, one of O’Neill’s attorneys in Austin, said in an email to the Star-Telegram.

Last year, O’Neill went on trial for injury to the elderly, a first-degree felony punishable by a maximum sentence of life in prison. But a jury in June 2016 deadlocked and the judge declared a mistrial.

O’Neill was accused of being involved in a heated and, by some accounts, violent confrontation with 78-year-old James Woods during a TCU football scrimmage in April 2015.

James Woods and his wife, Patsy, were sitting in the disabled-only section near the 45-yard line. They complained that they were being pestered by three children — one of them a girl — who were standing on the handrail blocking their view, according to the hearing examiner’s report.

Patsy Woods said she tried to get the children to move, at one time tapping them with a rolled-up souvenir poster, but eventually gave up, Guttshall’s report said.

O’Neill doesn’t deny that "out of reflex" he used the palm of his hand to defend his children from James Woods’ "violent rage."

O’Neill, who was seated behind the Woods, was with his twin boys, then 7 years old, and their friend, who was 8. In the last 10 minutes of the scrimmage, his boys stood at the railing, blocking the Woods’ view. James Woods reportedly stood up and yelled at the children to get out of the way.

O’Neill told James Woods not to yell at or discipline his children, to which the elderly man reportedly replied:" I will say whatever the f— I want," according to the hearing examiner’s report.

James Woods then says that he "suddenly saw stars and a flash of light" and that his whole face went numb, the report states. Woods eventually was treated for a bloody nose, several damaged teeth and facial bruising.

O’Neill says that Patsy Woods grabbed the jersey of the one of children and pulled him toward her as her husband stood there yelling, the report states. O’Neill said he then stepped in and doesn’t deny that "out of reflex" he used the palm of his hand to defend his children from James Woods’ "violent rage."

TCU police investigated the incident and took statements from multiple witnesses. The fire department relied on the school’s investigation in deciding to put him on indefinite suspension in July 2015.

Guttshall criticized the fire department for relying solely on the TCU investigation even as differing accounts emerged. She particularly found it vexing that none of the witnesses were interviewed by an internal affairs investigator, resulting in the "kangaroo court," the report states.

"No other witnesses, again in particular the Woodses, were subjected to such intense examination or investigation. They simply gave statements; no one questioned them or pursued the inconsistencies in their stories," Guttshall wrote. It was only after O’Neill was suspended that one of the witnesses was contacted.

Those interviews might have helped clear up whether Woods was still standing or sitting when the confrontation occurred. If he was standing, it was reasonable for O’Neill to perceive that Woods was a threat to his children. Witnesses said Woods was standing up, while he has said he was seated.

Furthermore, the injuries reported by Woods show that it was impossible for him to have been sitting at the time of contact, Guttshall said, with one witness saying that he did not believe the slap O’Neill gave Woods carried that much force. "It is highly improbable that the slap cracked and/or broke his teeth," she said.

Instead, the evidence indicates that when Woods was slapped, he lost his balance, fell into his seat and slipped to the ground, hitting his face or chin on the rail, causing his facial and dental injuries. Woods’ nosebleed may have been caused by the aspirin he took every day, as well as Lipitor, which can cause "unusual bleeding," Guttshall said. O’Neill contends Woods probably slipped and fell while yelling at him.

The city has the burden of proving that its findings are "more likely or more probable than not," Guttshall wrote. "In this case, the City cannot meet that burden."

In its lawsuit, the city argues that Guttshall was wrong to include the information about the medications Woods was taking, since it wasn’t raised at the hearing and the city didn’t have a chance to respond. And, if Guttshall thought there was an error in due process, she exceeded her authority by reinstating O’Neill.

Fort Worth Fire Chief Rudolph Jackson said he regrets the hearing examiner’s decision but declined to talk about the facts of the case. As far as doing a more complete investigation, Jackson said his department decided to "trust" that the information it received from the TCU police was valid.

"Whenever there is a case, you evaluate what you could have done differently," Jackson said. "I would say that you always evaluate yourself to make corrections."

O’Neill said he hoped the examiner’s ruling would be the end of a two-year nightmare.

Besides dealing with the allegations in this case — which also led to a criminal trial — he had to answer questions about his 2013 arrest for a fatal stabbing in Arkansas of a 23-year-old man near Hot Springs. Investigators later determined that O’Neill was the target of a robbery attempt and had acted in self-defense and an internal affairs investigation was dropped.

O’Neill said his kids have been bullied and forced out of a private school. He said he’s had to live off savings and a cashed-in retirement account while being out of work.

"It would have been nice to have a meeting and say, ‘Wow, we messed up …’ " O’Neill said. "But instead they come up with an appeal to hide their actions."

Max B. Baker: 817-390-7714, @MaxbakerBB

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