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kitkat1003 · 3 years

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Who Are You Really?

Chapter 4: Rush Hour

Summary:

Huh. Guess Spirit doesn’t have too much time to introspect. That’s okay, though. Introspection doesn’t lead to anything good, and Spirit much prefers action over thought when they start to think too far back.

They dig into their pocket, pulling out the proper token.

Ft. Almond, who belongs to @strange-lace

Spirit Masterpost

Spirit is nervous.

Macaque’s token is buzzing.

They don’t know if they should be. They’re nervous for clients, of course, and they’re polite to everyone they meet, but Macaque is...different. They’ve known him longer, longer than most of their clients.

They’ve done so many favors for him, he can’t hurt them. They know that. They know they know that.

They still tremble a little as they reach into their pocket.

Are the favors not enough? They have to be. Spirit has been operating on them for as long as they can remember, likely longer than that. Favors are dependable, favors make sense, they can tally them down and be assured, and know, and can quantify, and

And yet.

Macaque is like Red, but different. Close, but not a friend. Something else. And Spirit shouldn’t be afraid. They’ve done him favors, they’re safe. They’ve done everything he asked, even when it wasn’t good. Because they aren’t stupid, and they know what is and isn’t right. They haven’t been right for a long time maybe ever, but they just want to be safe, and this is how they will be.

They know that. This is how it has to be.

Because if it isn’t, then Spirit would have, and wouldn’t have, and

Spirit doesn’t like to think on the would haves, because they turn into should haves. They should have this, they should have that—none of that is helpful. Wanting more from the past doesn’t change the present.

Besides, they should have what they deserve, and

Spirit grabs the token and goes to where they are needed.

They’re not quite sure where they are, at first, but the cliffside they appear at is just a few miles from the town. They can see the weather tower from where they are. It’s the tallest building in the city, after all.

Macaque’s seeming lack of appearance would be worrying, but Spirit feels the itch that always happens in their eye, the big one, when Macaque is hiding in the dark.

“You test that a lot,” they say. “I haven’t missed you yet.”

They turn around just as Macaque steps out of their shadow. It’s kind of interesting, watching the flat object liquify into what seems like smoke, pulling from the rockface upon which Spirit’s shadow is cast. From shadow to smoke to flesh and bone, the transition seamless.

“I’m your teacher, aren’t I? Who else is going to test you?” He stretches his arms leaning back against the cliff face with his arms crossed over his chest.

Spirit supposes that makes sense. Macaque is their teacher, in the sense that he’s really the only person who has bothered to teach Spirit anything, save for their mom. But Mom isn’t a teacher, she’s Mom, so Macaque is their teacher. It makes sense when you think about it.

“So,” Macaque starts, a claw lazily tugging at Spirit’s sleeve to get their attention. “Got any new information? As a favor,” he adds the last part like he always does, and Spirit perks up like they always do.

A new favor is always so nice.

“Oh, well, the Demon Bull King was released,” they start. “Red Son, Princess Iron Fan, and the Demon Bull King have congregated on the outskirts of Wán Qiãn Chéng, where Monkey King’s successor lives, and they battle him from time to time—”

“Monkey King has a successor?” Macaque all but shouts, loud enough that Spirit takes a step back.

They fidget, and hide their hands behind their back.

“Um, yes?” Spirit shrugs at Macaque’s incredulous look. “He stopped the Demon Bull King when DBK first emerged, and has been protecting the city and, uh, the world since then. He’s a little younger than me, age wise I think.

“I haven’t gotten a good look at him, but he’s friends with the youngest member of the Long family, so he might be aristocratic? I don’t know,” They finish lamely, smiling a little.

Macaque grins. It’s not a nice one, one of his scheming grins he gets when he wants something and is figuring out how to get it. Spirit finds it familiar, considering Macaque always wants something from them, in one way or another. Why he feels the need to scheme is beyond them, because Spirit does most anything if asked politely.

Then again, they were a bit obstinate when Macaque and them first met. They made Macaque work for their favor, which is stupid. They should’ve listened better back then, and Macaque would maybe like them more now.

Most people don’t like them, though, so they suppose they should be used to it.

“Well then,” Macaque starts, rubbing his chin with his hand in thought. “That is something. Thanks kid. I’ll use that.”

Spirit brightens at the praise.

“You’re welcome!” they beam. “Um, anything else, sir?”

Macaque waves a hand. “Nah.”

He turns towards the horizon, and then, for some reason, looks back almost...shy? Spirit doesn’t really understand Macaque’s moods. He can flip flop in terms of good or bad feelings very quickly, with no rhyme nor reason Spirit can discern in regards to why.

They jump, scrambling to catch an item as Macaque just...tosses them a bag of what they soon realize is coins. A fair bit, if the weight is any indication. The bag is purple, with a silver drawstring for the pouch. They love purple and silver! Macaque doesn’t do silver, save for the token he made for them; his cuffs are gold.

They glance up at him in confusion.

“Got tired of carrying that,” Macaque says, looking away from them. “Figured you wouldn’t mind. Buy yourself something with it, or whatever.”

He glances back at them again. Spirit waves.

Macaque jumps off the cliff, and disappears.

Spirit heads back to town, after that, flitting through different shopping centers. They don’t really have a lot of money regularly, but they also don’t spend a lot of money regularly, so they’re typically okay with spending money when they want or need to.

The last thing that was a big purchase was getting their outfit fixed up for the third time. They always wait until the fabric is so worn that they can’t stitch it together to do so, because they try to be frugal, but keeping their one and only outfit in fair condition is a necessity.

Macaque had mentioned the practice, saying that it was how he kept his outfit pristine after centuries. Demons who could weave silk would restring the fabric line by line until it was simply the same but brand new, keeping the old string to be salvaged for whatever they could find within. It wasn’t terribly expensive, but was still a purchase to be saved up for.

They don’t shift into human form, staying in the alleyways where they’re hardly seen and glancing out to the streets to see if there’s anything neat to find instead of walking in the open as a human. Their eyes catch on a shop in the food district, a colorful storefront.

Bitter Sweets.

They can see the colorful creations set up in the window display. Sweets, pastries.

Pastries.

They remember pastries. It was such a rare thing to have. Father was always in the Inn, always toward the front side they’d have to cross to get to the indoor kitchen. They never wanted to cross Father. They knew what would happen.

But it became a game. Find whenever Father is gone, fixing up a room for a new customer, off to the town to find tourists, and sneak into the kitchen. Throw together the ingredients, skipping across the floor to find each and every item needed for the recipe. Mixing the ingredients into dough, kneading it and playing with it as Mother laughed, shaping it into its proper form, placing it in the stone oven and watching, waiting.

And then the dough would rise, and Spirit would lean in so close to watch that Mom would gently tug them back with a soft smile. She would pull out the finished product, and Spirit would tug on her sleeve and say ‘Now?’, and she would smile and shake her head and make them wait until it cooled.

They would pull apart the warm (but not hot!) balls of sticky bread just to see the inside and finally stuff a piece into their mouth, giggling. They’d take the lot and scamper off into safety with Mom, off into the back area where the infirmary was, where father couldn’t reach, the taste of sweetness on their tongue.

Spirit remembers pastries.

Entranced, they cross the street and enter the shop.

The inside is just as warm and bright as the outside, purples and pinks in pastel hues the general color scheme, with cool gray walls and white highlights to accent the colors. There’s a second display case by the front counter, a small table with two chairs off to the side, and a sweet smell of something baking that hits you both with nostalgia and hunger.

Spirit thinks about the last time they’ve eaten, and can’t quite remember. Then again, that’s not too terrible, considering they don’t need to eat regularly.

“Hello, dear!” A voice calls from further inside.

Spirit jumps at the sound, and stares as brown hair, purple skin, and red eyes greet them. The demon is of the spider variety, a cap on her head and smudges of flour and icing on her apron and face.

She has 3 eyes, just like them. But they’re not supposed to have three eyes, so it’s different. She’s allowed to like hers.

She wipes off her hands on her apron and steps up to the counter, a pleasant smile greeting them with her hands on her hips, ready to be of service. “What can I get for you today?”

Spirit stares for a moment.

Right. They have to order something.

“I-uh-um,” They stammer, because they didn't have time to prepare for this, and just a glance at the display case proves that they don’t know what any of the pastries are, nor do they know what the names mean.

And what did they even expect? That this random sweets shop would have the exact type of pastry they remembered making centuries ago with someone who has been gone so long it shouldn’t matter? Those things are lost to time, lost to a world they left behind when there was nothing left but blood and memories. The soft moments are held only by the crumbs left in their head; there’s nothing tangible here. They’re so stupid. So, so, so stupid.

“I can always help you pick something out, if you need help,” the shopkeep says, gentle as Spirit’s anxiety mounts.

No, they can’t ask for help, they’re not allowed to. They can’t do this, they should just run, run and never come back because this is stupid, what are they even looking for-

“Mooncakes!” they nearly shout, clapping a hand over their mouth a moment later, face bright red as they look away.

Their tail curls around their leg tight enough to hurt. The shopkeeper's eyes glance down at their leg, for a moment.

Spirit tries again, softer, and fidgets with their belt. “Um, if you, uh, if you have any mooncakes. I would...like those.”

They bite the inside of their cheek hard, just short of drawing blood.

Mooncakes are the only pastry they know by name. The only pastry that Father allowed and wanted them to make, special for New Years. That was when they could be in the kitchen for hours, baking batch after batch for customers in the Inn and to hand out to those in the infirmary.

Father never let them make anything outside of what people wanted, what could bring them in money. He was always so worried about costs, irate by a single lost yuan. They were only to do what could be profitable. Providing mooncakes to the tourists brought them business. That’s all he cared about.

Mom’s hospital business always made far more than the Inn ever did. It’s a point of pride they carry, that their Mother’s sunny disposition, kind nature, and astute healing practices made her far more of a matriarch than their Father liked. No one likes staying at an Inn with an owner who has such a cruel gaze, where the owner’s wife and child are too afraid to show their faces.

No one likes staying at an Inn where the owner doesn’t even have a face, but, well, Spirit wouldn’t know anything about that. Why would they? They’ve had claws for a long, long time, claws that are strong enough to rip and tear, but that has nothing to do with this. Nothing happened.

It’s none of your business. Stop asking.

The shopkeep smiles.

“Ah, Mooncakes,” she says. “It’s been a few months since the New Years celebration, but people are still coming around looking for them. I make a batch every other day just in case. Lucky for you, today’s the fresh batch!”

She turns away to the back, and Spirit lets out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Miss.”

“Call me Almond,” Almond calls from the back.

Spirit smiles. “Thank you, Miss Almond.”

They only ask for a few, maybe three, but after they pay and leave they find nearly ten in the bag they’ve been given. They idly chew on one, and almost stop in the street as the rush of nostalgia is accompanied by the taste of an expertly baked mooncake.

Watching the fireworks with Mom, bright lights up in the sky, sharing a mooncake with someone who cared, being carried home, half asleep under the stars and wanting to be nowhere else but where they were then, because the only place that was home was her arms because they were warm and safe and now they’re….

They blink back a couple tears and continue to chew.

They walk around aimlessly for a while, and eventually climb up a random building to sit on its ledge, letting the wind brush through their fur as they chew on their second mooncake.

They wonder if Red would share one with them, if they asked. They never stayed around long enough to share one with him on New Years. They almost pull out their cell phone and text him, but…well.

Red hasn’t been close for a long time. A rift was made because Spirit failed him, and they’ve always been a coward, too afraid to reach across the gap where something safe and special used to be.

They put their phone away.

A token buzzes in their pocket.

They dig into their pocket, pulling out the proper token.

Oh. It’s Spider Queen!

Spirit hasn’t heard from her in a long while, but they’re always happy to help, so they let the token whisk them to where they need to be.

They can hear the rush of cars overhead when they appear in what they assume is the sewers. Eerie green pods of something litter the walls and ground, and there’s a fair smattering of purple grey spider webs that lighten the dark stones.

“Spirit!”

They turn, and see the Spider Queen just a foot or so away, bathed in green light from a crater shaped pool that has a green, bubbling liquid boiling within. She’s grinning wide at them, and Spirit will say that, for a demon lost for half a millennium (that’s most demons, to be fair. They all disappeared when the Demon Bull King did. After all, if Monkey King could do that to someone, what would he do to them, the weaker ones?), she looks just as much of a threat as she did the last time they saw her.

They bow.

“Hello, Miss Queen,” they greet, and, after glancing back at the bag gripped tightly in their hand, they say “Would you like a mooncake?”

Spider Queen stares, for a moment, and then laughs. “Ha! My, aren’t you sweet?”

The sound of Spider Queen’s mechanical spider legs sends a shiver down Spirit’s spine, but Spirit has never minded spiders all that much. As long as bugs stay away from them, in the sense that they don’t crawl onto them, Spirit leaves them be. Spider Queen is more than just a bug, they suppose, and therein lies the danger.

They stand up, reach into their bag, and pull out a mooncake.

“This is just the thing I needed!” Spider Queen plucks the mooncake from Spirit’s hand. “You would not believe the day I just had!”

She takes a bite and Mmms at the taste while Spirit fidgets silently.

“You know, I had my favorite meal taken from me, but this might be the next best thing.”

Spider Queen is a lot like Macaque, in the sense that they both talk a lot and Spirit never knows what to say in reply. There’s a lot of bragging, grandiose statements and plotting, and then eventually an expectation of a response. Spirit is never good at responses, though.

Then again, Spider Queen likes to hear herself talk a little more than she cares for a response. She’s easier to handle, in that sense. Macaque is harder.

“Would you mind giving me a buff, sweetheart? As a favor. I’ve got a bigger task for you, and it requires a bigger explanation. Why waste the time, right?” Spider Queen holds out one of her mechanical spider legs.

“Right,” Spirit replies with a small smile. “Of course.”

Lucky that they keep the polish for this sort of stuff on hand. They pull it out with a rag and start to polish the metal, working out old scratches and making them disappear until the surface glitters like new.

“This town has become a hotbed of activity since ol’ Demon Bull King jumped out from the netherworld,” She starts, talking as Spirit works. “I thought I’d sneak in and see what the fuss was about, maybe grab a meal or two. It has been ages since the Spider Queen has ruled, and now that we’re allowed to play, I’m planning on rebuilding my empire! The monkey boy came in and stole my meal, but he left behind a little piece of himself that I can use.”

She chuckles darkly at that notion.

“Monkey Boy?” Spirit inquires, moving onto the second leg.

“Ugh,” Spider Queen growls under her breath. “Monkey King’s newest pet project. He comes tearing in, stealing my perfectly good dinner, that little—” She cuts herself off.

Spirit hands her another mooncake. She makes a motion with it in the air, huffing indignantly before continuing. “His hair is enough to give my venom the kick it needs, but I don’t have the minions I used to. I need tech.”

Spirit starts on the fourth leg. The position they have to be to buff is uncomfortable, a strain on their back, but to complain would be stupid, so they deal with the pain.

“That’s where you come in, dear,” Spider Queen turns to them.

Spirit glances up.

“You’re good at getting information, and you probably understand this modern stuff better than I do.” She waves a hand, almost dismissive. “I need someone to build me some spider robots to transport the venom. You don’t need to worry about the transport, I’ve got Huntsman for that, but they don’t know what to look for.”

Spirit worked on finishing the fourth leg while they respond. “Of course, Miss Queen. Does it matter if they’re a demon or not?” They like to know specifics.

“Pfft—no self respecting demon knows anything about these new fangled devices! We thrive off of power and magic, not tech like phones! Those are things humans use as a crutch,” Spider Queen rolls her eyes, huffing.

“...Right,” Spirit replies, pointedly not getting offended on Red’s behalf.

It’s okay. She doesn’t know she’s being rude. Spirit stands up, having finished with buffing Spider Queen’s armory.

“I’ll get on it right away, Miss Queen. Anything else?” Spirit finds that being polite does wonders, and Spider Queen likes it when she’s called a Queen.

“Nope! I’m gonna relax. Good luck!” Spider Queen’s legs sound with metal clicks as she leaves, waving as she does so.

Spirit waits until they’re sure Spider Queen is far enough away for them to relax. They turn, walking toward where they can hear open rushing water. The sewers are essentially a river, and all rivers lead to the sea eventually. Macaque taught them that.

It takes them around an hour to walk to the end of the sewers, climbing out of the pipe and sitting atop it.

They’re just a few hundred yards away from the city’s docks. They dangle their feet over the edge of the pipe and watch the rushing sewer water drain out into the sea.

They pull out their phone.

Red Son would likely know how to work robotics, but they’re supposed to find a human. Plus, they don’t want to involve Red in this sort of stuff. They can probably ask Mei. She doesn’t know about their favor business, so she won’t be any the wiser, and she won’t feel guilty! It’s the perfect plan.

‘Mei.

Hello! It’s Spirit. I was wondering about the technology of the city. It is very advanced. How was it constructed? Who keeps it running?

Let me know if you know!

Spirit’

That should be inconspicuous enough to get Mei to start discussing things. They don’t like dancing around subjects, but they don’t think this is the sort of thing they can just tell Mei about. Mei is the type to have more of a moral backbone than Spirit does. Spirit has their rules, of course, their lines in the sand, but they do most anything regardless of consequence. What is good, what is bad; they don’t have the power to deliberate on that sort of thing.

If they were powerful enough that no one could hurt them, they would choose good, of course. They don’t enjoy most of the work they do, they don’t find satisfaction in it besides the comfort of knowing that they’re a little safer, but it’s necessary. They don’t have the luxury of knowing powerful people to protect them. They don’t have anyone who would.

So they protect themself, somehow. It works.

They pocket their phone, and head back towards the city.

They take a detour to the forest, because being in the sewers did nothing to keep them clean. There’s a stream a few miles out of town that’s perfect for washing in, though, so that’s where they end up, carefully scrubbing the scent out of their clothes and fur and sunbathing on a rock. They sprawl across it, back curved as their head hangs off one end and their feet and tail the other. They have to bend their legs a bit, because the rock isn’t tall enough to keep every part of them off of the ground, but it’s mostly comfortable.

Just for a few hours, they let themself rest, polishing off the last few mooncakes as their fur and outfit dry.

They end up falling asleep and wake up as stars dot the sky. The more they stare, the more their vision becomes unfocused, so that the lights triple in number. It’s fun, sometimes, to have lopsided eyes. It creates an interesting view.

They stretch, grabbing their now dry clothes and putting them on. They’ll take a leisurely walk back to the city, maybe pick up breakfast. Maybe. They already ate something this week, and it’s not like they need much. Why waste the money if it’s for something unnecessary.

Then again, Comes a voice that sounds a little bit like Macaque, a little bit like Father, and mostly like a part of themself they prefer to ignore; Were the mooncakes necessary?

Spirit doesn’t have an answer to that.

An hour’s walk gives them plenty of time to introspect, but Spirit prefers to avoid that. Their mind is a winding road paved back centuries, but while it started with lovingly placed bricks somewhere along the way the materials were left shattered. Glass and broken stone leaves feet bloody and pained, and you can’t go around, only through. So Spirit chooses neither, and leaves the rest of the road to be forgotten.

The road they’re on now, the present, is made with a mosaic of materials they managed to cobble together, after everything broke. It’s bumpy, there are cracks in the pavement, and you have to be careful. Spirit is always careful, though; they’ve had the practice.

The issue with being so, so careful is that leaving behind the earliest stretches of road means they remember little of their childhood. Spirit would never say it aloud, but they don’t remember their mother’s face. To find that picture would mean flipping through the bloody pages of their photo album, and Spirit is, at the end of it all, a coward.

That’s enough thought for now. We have to move things along.

Spirit thinks they can have a leisurely morning, but yet another token buzzes in their pocket, much to their chagrin. Spirit wouldn’t say it, but sometimes it’s exhausting to be at everyone’s beck and call. They signed up for it, however, they’ve no room to complain.

Reaching into their pocket, they pull out Yin and Jin’s token. They frown, if only because Yin and Jin call them the most frequently and, often, the favors they’re called for are mundane and silly.

Though, compared to the harder, less moral favors, they find these preferable.

They consider letting the token ring. They’ve done that before. Yin and Jin have so many favors put down that they get a little cavalier with how they interact with the pair. The two used Spirit a lot before they knew how the system worked and realized using them as a crutch was a bad idea.

Apparently owing Spirit something is a bad thing. Spirit can’t imagine why.

They sigh. As much as Yin and Jin are long-time clients, that’s no excuse for being late or lazy. They take a deep breath, and let the token whisk them away.

They arrive within the city, at the front step of a hideout. Spirit recognizes the alley once they swivel their head around. It’s a fair few miles in the middle of the city, where a lot of nooks and crannies lie between the bustling streets. Perfect for hiding. It’s not too far from the main road that it would be invisible, though Spirit isn’t sure if that’s because Yin and Jin want to be near the main road or if they just didn’t think about it. With their general intelligence, it’s 50/50.

They step inside, posture straight. All business.

“Hello,” they greet.

Inside is a rather sparse dwelling. There’s what appears to be an unused kitchen off to the right of the main room. Said room is a large expanse, and a dirty one at that. At the back of it is a board, covered in pins and string, tying threads together in myriad ways that Spirit can’t quite decipher. They see Mei up there. A picture of Pigsy. The rest are unrecognizable.

“Hey!” Yin calls.

Spirit’s gaze drops down to them. They’ve been taller than the two for centuries.

“Got a favor for ya,” Jin continues.

“I assumed,” Spirit replies. “What do you need me to do?

Red eyes squint with twin sharp-toothed grins, and they pull out a large book.

“Well you see,” Yin starts.

“We wanna go after the Monkie Kid, yeah?” Jin continues.

“So we made a plan,” Yin finishes.

They open the book, straight to the middle, and on the page are...two steps illustrated. Pretty self explanatory, in the sense that Spirit can tell that they want to use some sort of artifact to trap the Monkey King’s successor.

“So, we figured, Calabash,” Jin points to the first picture. “We capture him in it, keep ‘im in there, right?”

“Right,” Yin agrees.

They look to Spirit.

“Right?” Spirit says.

They both nod.

“The thing is,” Jin moves on, which Spirit appreciates because they don’t know where this conversation is going, “The calabash is uh, in a museum.”

“It’s old,” Yin supplies.

“You want me to retrieve it for you?” Spirit parses out.

Yin and Jin smile again, all teeth. It used to be intimidating, but, well, Spirit is older, and smarter.

Spirit is scared of everyone, but there’s a certain safety that comes with knowing that when push comes to shove, they just need to kill one to incapacitate the other. They’ve seen the two when one is absent without cause. They can use that, if needed. Not that they would, but they could. That makes them safe.

“Now you got it,” Jin crosses his arms over his chest.

“Sound good?” Yin asks.

“Do I have a time limit?” Spirit likes to know the conditions.

They’re already working on one favor, and if they have to worry about the time limit of another favor, then they have to balance things. Not that they do much else when not working on favors, but still. They like to be a little organized.

“We’re gonna order from the restaurant the kid works at in a week or two,” Yin explains.

Spirit nods. That gives them time. They have a phone now, too, and Mei taught them how to search stuff on it, so they can look up the museum once they’re out.

“Okay,” They respond. “Anything else?”

Yin and Jin glance at each other. They have this way of communicating without words, and Spirit finds it kind of cool. There’s a twitch of an eyebrow on one face, a small mouth movement on the other. Their expressions don’t really change, just shift a little.

“Nah, we’re good,” Yin waves them off.

Spirit nods and vanishes without a farewell.

All in all, they don’t dislike Yin and Jin. Sure, the two are loud and rambunctious, but so is Red, and Spirit could never dislike Red. In a way, they’re almost jealous of the pair. They have each other. They have someone who will never leave, who could never leave. Inseparable, two against the world.

One is the loneliest number, and maybe Spirit is just a little jealous to know a Yin who isn’t always alone.

As they head off, scaling the wall and choosing to traverse the city over rooftops, they get a text. It’s from Mei, a response to their earlier query. Spirit stops, tail swishing back and forth as they perch on the edge of a roof, toes curled over the edge to grip it as they squat, leaning down to read the text.

‘hey spirit!

the city is the sum of hundreds of years of advancement, with tens of hundreds of programmers and hardware engineers building it up! ive been looking up a lot of them as inspo for my work in tech.

i like this one programmer, syntax. hes a mystery, theres only one public picture of him, but hes responsible for most of the tech in the city! he was the leading programmer for the weather tower and has a bunch of patents he makes money off. total recluse lol no one knows where he could even live near! ive always wanted to meet him. lemme send you some articles!!!!!’

Interspersed between the sentences are a deluge of emojis. A lot of green hearts, a couple dragons, some rain clouds when mentioning the weather tower. Beneath the text are a few articles. Spirit squints. They think they press their finger on those.

Sure enough, pressing their finger on the article pulls it up in a...they think Mei called it a web browser? They should ask her next time they’re called over.

Or...well, Mei doesn’t know it, but they’re doing Spirit a favor, giving them this information, and if there’s anything Spirit fears, it’s being in someone’s debt. She doesn’t know, but she could find out, and if she did, she could use them, she could hurt them—

Well, Mei doesn’t seem the type, but one never knows.

‘Mei.

Thanks. I’ll read them soon. Hey, do you want to meet someplace? I know your mother was not thrilled at my offer to teach you swordfighting, but I am still willing to. As long as we meet away from your house. I wouldn’t want to get in trouble.

Let me know!

Spirit.’

That should even things out. A good lesson or two, maybe more. Spirit would prefer to do more than less when repaying a debt, just to be sure.

They start to peruse the different articles. The only public image they have of this programmer is striking. He’s got eccentric hair and a small mustache. He frowns at the camera, clearly displeased with having his picture taken, a pristine lab coat on and a pair of bright green glasses adorning his face. There’s a hand on his shoulder, holding him in place as the picture is taken.

The only known thing that he does is go to a specific coffee shop. Evidently, anytime he goes, the cameras in the area including phones stop working, thus contributing to the lack of photos. People like to chat about him, simply because of the mystery of it.

They get a text back from Mei.

‘sounds great! i know a place. text u the deets later! <3’

Spirit smiles.

They decide to stake out the coffee shop this Syntax goes to. It’s toward the outskirts of the city, small, with a reputation for using specially designed and grown beans that no one else can replicate. Supposedly. It keeps a low profile, as well as a very high end coffee shop can, but most people are priced out of it anyway. From what Spirit read from reviews, a lot of people would get this coffee as a treat, something to save up for as a present on a weekend. It’s a large place, and people often go to sit and relax for a while with their drink.

Syntax, evidently, goes there up to five times a week, to the point that his drink is memorized by everyone who works there. He pays in cash, to avoid any trace that he was there, and then disappears. People say he avoids being followed.

People, though. Mortals. They can’t see souls the way Spirit can.

They catch him on day two of their stakeout, and they sit, waiting, as he orders. Cash is exchanged, and he walks away. No one tries to follow him, but Spirit must, so they will.

They blink, and the world bursts into different colors. Souls of all different shades, constantly interacting with one another. Syntax’s soul is a neon green, with lavender lines within that resemble code. The soul takes on the whole of the person, after all. People more powerful can have souls that show it. Spirit likes that. They like knowing that they can always check if people are lying.

They follow, and soon realize why Syntax is so hard to follow. Every turn and twist he sends out a...well, he can’t make clones, but they’re digital recreations of himself that continue walking in a different direction than the real Syntax is. They’re near perfect, able to fool anyone who just saw them as is, but they don’t have souls.

So Spirit follows the soul.

It’s a good hour walk, not that Syntax walks all the way. Once he’s out of the main city area, he hops into a hover car that seems like a personal project (if the paint job is anything to say about it) and blasts off. Spirit follows the trail, far enough behind that they can’t see Syntax but close enough that they can catch his colors in their eye.

It’s a good twenty minutes before they reach Syntax’s house. It looks like a fortress, a large mansion gated and hidden. Spirit takes a picture, grabs Spider Queen’s token, and disappears.

They were just told to locate him, after all. They prefer that. As much as Spirit is good at their job, they don’t like the thought of having to kidnap anyone, because the person would likely scream, or cry, or beg, and Spirit would have to see that.

It’s easier if they don’t see it. They already know it isn’t right, they don’t need the painful reminder.

Spider Queen’s lair is as dark and damp as they remember, with the added addition of an expansion of the green pool of bubbling liquid. It has spread to little pods scattered about the place, glowing ominously with newfound energy.

“Miss Queen?” They call.

Green eyes blink from the dark, and Spirit stays very still as she comes into view.

“Back so soon?” Spider Queen leans back on her mech, grinning like...what was the phrase Spirit had heard. Like a cat who had caught the canary? That’s it.

Spirit doesn’t know why it has to be a canary. Cats eat plenty of birds. And mice! Odd.

“I have what you want,” Spirit replies, keeping it short and to the point. “He’s an engineer and a programmer, and a recluse, so people probably won’t notice if he goes missing. I have a picture of his house, and I can take you to it if you want, bu_t”

“That won’t be necessary,” Spider Queen waves a hand. She clears her throat with intention, and Spirit tilts their head to the side as another figure comes out from the shadows.

“My Queen,” Huntsman’s voice is as gravelly as ever, and he bows a little in greeting.

Spirit gives him a small wave. He rolls his eyes at them.

Fair enough.

“I need you to hunt down this human. He’s important to my debut as Queen of the world! Spirit here has the details.”

Spider Queen gestures to them, and Spirit jumps a little as the weight of seemingly eyes all fall upon them.

“O-oh!” They fumble to pull out their phone. “I have-uh-I have a photo of his house, so you can use that, and, uh—”

They look down, and Huntsman is suddenly very, very close to them. They take a wary step back.

He sniffs them.

“Were you just there?” He asks.

Spirit slowly nods, holding out their phone so Huntsman can see the picture of Syntax’s house. He glances down at it, and then after scanning it over, nods decisively.

“I’ll have him here by tomorrow,” he promises.

“He-uh-!” Spirit raises a hand, pressing their fingers to their mouth in apprehension. “His house looks very high tech. There’ll uh-there’ll probably be, um, defenses.”

They haven’t talked to Huntsman or Goliath much, in the centuries they’ve been around to help Spider Queen with different things, but Huntsman gave them a knife once. Said it was because they looked pathetic without a way to defend themself. They didn’t want to tell him that they already had a weapon, so they kept the knife. He got them one with a purple grip, even! It was a nice gesture, and Spirit would like Huntsman to stay alive.

Not that they ever really want anyone dead, but they know it’s often an eventuality, and saving every person, wanting to keep every person they know around is hard, and will only lead to pain. They know from experience. Besides, they’re pretty sure no one would do anything to keep them alive. If a tool breaks you can always get a new one, so Spirit is expendable, and expendable means that you can’t be expected to be kept safe. They know from experience. But they like certain hands that wield them over others, so they’d like those ones to remain, at least.

Huntsman grins, at that.

“I love it when they fights back,” he almost purrs before skittering off.

Spirit watches him leave, head tilted to the side. They suppose it makes sense that he likes hunting, considering his name is Huntsman. They wonder if his name was because of his type or his profession. Or maybe his type dictated his profession? Then again, there isn’t such a spider type as queen, so that’s a little silly to think about.

“Thank you, dear,” Spider Queen says, jerking Spirit out of their thoughts.

Spirit bows. “Of course, Miss Queen.”

When they stand up, there’s a bag of money—smaller than the one Macaque gave them, but hefty nonetheless—being offered to them.

“You’re too skinny,” Spider Queen says. “I can’t have a servant of mine looking half starved! Do something about it.”

Spirit blinks. They didn’t think they were too skinny. Sure, they could feel their ribs easily, but that's nice, because whenever they break their ribs they can figure out which one super fast. It’s useful. They don’t want to disappoint Spider Queen, though, and while she didn’t say it was a favor she is giving Spirit money, so they might as well get something to eat as a job well done gift.

They ignore how that thought makes their stomach squirm. How they feel about the jobs they are given does not matter. It never has.

“Of course,” They repeat, taking the bag. With another bow, they leave.

Thankfully, this trip hasn’t ruined their clothes, so they don’t need to wash them. They leave through a manhole cover in an alley, and when they peek their head out to see where they are, Bitter Sweets stares them down from across the street.

Well, at least they know they’ll like something from the shop, right?

The bell above the door rings in their ears long after the sound leaves the room, and Almond comes in with a smile that is slowly becoming familiar. It’s almost motherly, but Spirit wouldn’t say that, because if they did they’d have to run. Run before the motherly figure burns to dust, disappears for the sole reason of being motherly to them, of all people.

So for now, they say it is kind, and warm, and comforting.

“Spirit!” she grins up at them.

Spirit smiles hesitantly back.

“More mooncakes?” Almond prompts.

“Yes,” They nod, toes curling in excitement.

Nostalgia hurts a little, but it’s nice, too. “And—” they start, because Almond is kind, and open, and soft and Spirit can be brave a little. “Maybe, um, you could recommend some stuff? I-uh,” They rub the back of their neck sheepishly. “I don’t know the names of most of this.”

They gesture to the display case lamely.

Almond’s smile somehow gets softer, and her eyes light up with excitement. Spirit’s tail swishes back and forth with a calm joy from making someone happy.

“Of course,” Almond replies.

Getting the Calabash is, unsurprisingly, boring. Stealing an item is much easier than tracking a person. One quick search and they find it in a museum, nestled near the center of the city. Sneaking in is easy, because while they are tall, they’re quiet, flexible, and smart. That, and the people here are very lax in security. Being so used to peacetime makes people complacent. In a way, Spirit is relieved that they have known conflict most of their life. It keeps them sharp.

They don’t know what to do in peacetime. There’s always something to do, a job to accomplish. A fight to help with. What else can they do?

The only thing that gives them pause is the existence of two Calabashes. One, older and far larger, is stated as the original. Evidently, using a mix of demon magic and more modern technology, a new one was made, one that aimed to capture rather than kill.

Yin and Jin never specified which one they wanted. If Spirit was to guess, they know the pair would want the original. The one that melts whoever is trapped within. The one that kills.

Spirit doesn’t kill children. And they don’t know the Monkey King’s successor, but he’s a child. Younger than they are.

Are they a child? Were they ever?

So they hedge their bets on the idea that Yin and Jin won’t notice the difference, and pick the newer, kinder one.

The pair does not notice. They’re a bit scatterbrained like that. Or maybe they don’t care.

Once the Calabash is secured and delivered, Spirit sits atop a random building, chewing on leftover pastries from their last visit to Almond’s bakery. The sunset is looking awfully nice, but Spirit thinks that the charm is lost once you lose someone to watch them with, so they pull out their phone.

In the news section, there is a small article about Syntax abandoning his favorite coffee shop. The article supposes that he picked another spot to get his caffeinated beverages. There are thousands of comments speculating, wondering where he could have gone.

Spirit knows the truth. The weight of that, the guilt, sits at the bottom of their stomach like a stone.

But there’s a hundred, a thousand, a hundred thousand stones sitting there, and they’ve been dragging Spirit down for a long time. One more isn’t going to change much, isn’t going to drag them deeper down than they already are. They’ve been drowning for centuries. Drowning, mouth clenched shut, holding in their final breath, as if the moment they let it go they’d finally succumb to the suffocation pressing against them on all sides.

When they were younger, they’d claw to the surface, take a breath or two, before another stone weighed them lower. The sunlight doesn’t reach them, with how deep they are now. Nothing does, because Spirit is alone. That’s what happens when you hurt everyone around you, isn’t it?

One of these days, they were going to let go. One of these days, they’d open their mouth, and finally they would be able to scream.

Sometimes all Spirit wants to do is let go, scream, and drown.

They look at the sunset. It’s looking awfully nice, don’t you think?

#kitkat1003 #Yin Spirit #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #monkie kid oc

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littlelovelyspiderling · 3 years

Text

Unmasked

Spider-Man is forced to fight the Sinister Six while he’s sick, which leads to his enemies making unexpected discoveries about their arch nemesis.

Chapter 3

Ow.

That was the first coherent thought that registered in Peter’s brain.

Pain. He was in pain. A lot of it.

It started with the sunlight shining directly in his eyes through the ceiling-high windows. Then there was the sharp ache in his left leg. Then a sting in his shoulder. A cramp in his stomach. A throb in his skull.

And then, everywhere.

Peter was hurting all over. And yet, it was dull, distant, hazy hurt, like he was a ghost floating above his body after it had been run over by a dump truck.

Ugh…

His eyes scrunched into angry lines before fluttering open. His vision was fuzzy, unfocused, and no amount of blinking seemed to fix it. His brain felt like it had been replaced by three tons of bricks.

What…where…

He was…inside someplace. It was bright—way too bright. The ceiling overhead was tall and white. He was lying on a couch that felt like it had never been sat on before.

Am I…dead…?

His muscles were stiff as stone. He feared for a moment he was paralyzed, until he felt his fingers twitch, followed by his toes. It hurt—a lot—but hurt was better than numbness.

Okay. Not paralyzed. Hopefully not dead.

“Mmmgh,” he moaned. Slowly, he slid his hands back and pushed off the couch, lifting himself into a sitting position. “Oh, god…”

His skin was hot and sticky. Every bone, organ, and cell ached. He still felt sick, but now with about seventy extra ailments piled on top of that, which meant he was probably still alive.

Probably.

But how?

The last he remembered, he was getting his ass handed to him by the Sinister Six. For as long as he’d operated as the masked vigilante Spider-Man, he’d never gotten thrashed that badly. How did he get away? Did someone rescue him? Had the Avengers swooped in and saved his dumb, in-over-his-head ass right after he’d blacked out? But how could they have gotten there in time?

And where the hell was he?

Now that he was no longer lying down, the room had started listing a little. Peter reached up to rub his temple and felt something crinkly stuck to his head. He grabbed hold of it and started peeling it off his skin, wincing from the pain. Once he’d torn it free, Peter held the unknown object in front of his eyes. It was a large, bloody bandage.

Huh.

Peter’s eyes dropped to his lap. A thin blanket was draped over his body. When he lifted it away, he cringed.

His torso was a gruesome patchwork of Frankenstein-style stitches and bandages. He counted three sets of sutures on his upper body alone, plus four other cuts and scrapes held together with butterfly tape. His entire chest looked like one gigantic bruise. Plus, the burns—some from scraping across coarse concrete, others from actual fire. Every small movement sent waves of pain rippling across his body.

Yeesh, he thought, poking gingerly at the bandages on his shoulder. Well, someone friendly had to patch me up. But who?

Peter let the blanket slip from his fingers. Grimacing, he swung his legs off the couch and carefully placed his feet on the floor. Sweat slipped off his brow and dripped onto his knee.

“Okay,” he breathed. Peter inhaled sharply, then threw his weight forward, standing upright for an instant. Then he collapsed, gasping. Dizzying agony blossomed in his left leg and thumped like a second heartbeat.

“Shit,” he hissed through his teeth. He glanced back and saw his shin had been fashioned with a makeshift splint: two metal rods and ass-load of packing tape.

Right. Broken leg. The sound of the bone cracking in half reignited in his memories, sending a shudder down his spine.

Peter used the sofa to pull himself off the ground. This time, he placed all his weight on his right foot, using his left only for balance. His body ached and trembled with the effort it took to stand, but he managed to stay on his feet.

Ouch. Ugh. Okay. Yeah. That’s a start. The fuzz in his vision was starting to dissipate, but the fog in his brain clung like fungus. It felt like he’d been inhaling a bunch of that laughing gas stuff his dentist had given him back in the 6th grade when he had to get a tooth pulled. His head was heavy and light at the same time.

The room was a lounge area with stiff furniture and minimal decor. A wilted fern sat in the corner alongside a weird, tall block with a piece of metal sticking out of the top that Peter assumed was some form of modern art. The walls were entirely bare except for a small landscape painting that looked like it belonged in a motel bathroom. There were two other chairs across from the couch, a coffee table, a gray rug, and that was basically it.

Beside the fern, a pair of double doors stood wide and closed. When Peter strained his sensitive ears, muffled voices could be heard conversing in the other room. Curiosity plucked at his chest.

“Um…hello?” he called, voice raspy. He approached the doors, hopping more than walking, gritting his teeth as his injuries burned and throbbed, heat radiating feverishly off his skin. By the time he transversed the room, he was out of breath, lightheaded. He leaned against the wall for a minute and cycled slow gulps of oxygen through his lungs.

Once he’d somewhat recovered, Peter limped in front of the large doors. The voices were louder now, but not loud enough to be recognizable. They sounded mostly male. Peter took a deep breath, reached out his arm, and cracked the door open just a hair to peek inside.

It was a kitchen—that was the first thing he saw. A man stood at the island with his back to the doors. Across from him was a round dining table with a bowl of fruit in the middle.

“How is he?” the man asked, biting into an apple. His voice was definitely familiar.

“Still hasn’t woken up, right?” another responded.

Maybe this is another one of Clint’s safe houses, Peter thought. Or an Avengers’ base I’ve never been to before. Or a secret sitting room in some tragically decorated S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. Or—

Seconds before Peter opened his mouth to say hello again, the man eating the apple turned around. When Peter saw his face, his heart jumped out of his chest and splattered at his feet.

“I don’t know,” Herman Shultz said over a mouthful of fruit. “Has he?”

The oxygen around Peter vanished in an instant. It’s Shocker! The guy who broke my leg! W-what the hell? What is he doing here?

“Not from what I’ve heard,” the second voice continued. Another man entered his narrow line of vision, this one lit up like a neon sign, and Peter’s throat seized.

“You’re not being very helpful, Maxwell.”

“I told you not to call me that! I’m Electro!”

Shocker held up his hands. “Right, right, sorry. Electro, then. You’re not being helpful.”

What the shit, what the shit, what the actual, living shi—

“Don’t ask me about these things. Ask the doc.” He lifted his head and grinned. “Look—here he comes now.”

Clank, clank, clank. Heavy, metallic footsteps rang in Peter’s ears and shook the floor beneath him. Horror and disbelief flooded his veins as the eight-limbed scientist stepped in front of him, hardly three feet away, pushing a pair of glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Ask me about what?” Doctor Octopus said.

Peter leapt back from the door, clamping both hands over his mouth.

Oh…my god. It’s them.

“I just wanted to know how he was doing.”

They’re here. They found me. They came to finish the job.

Half of the super villains that had just wrecked his shit were standing in the neighboring room. Hell, maybe all of them were. They’d probably taken whoever had helped him hostage, or perhaps the poor soul was already dead. He wouldn’t stand a chance like this. He didn’t have his suit, his webs, nothing. He’d tried his best to fight them when he was just sick with the stomach bug, and look how well that had turned out for him. If they attacked him now, one solid hit was all it would take to knock him out. Or, if he was being fully honest, kill him.

Peter’s eyes darted frantically around the room. I have to get out of here! He hobbled toward the wall of windows and placed his hands against the glass. It was at least four inches thick; probably bulletproof. But it was his only option. With a shivery grunt, Peter hoisted himself off the floor and crawled toward the ceiling, every step piercing him with flashes of pain.

Okay. Launch off the ceiling, kick through the glass, make a run for it. In his loopy, concussed mind, the plan sounded foolproof. The voices of his enemies were growing louder; Doc Oc’s footsteps were approaching rapidly. It was now or never.

Hanging off the upside-down surface, balancing on his good foot, heart racing, head dizzy and faint, Peter threw himself at the window. He hit the glass with a loud thunk, bouncing off like a bug on a windshield, then crashed on top of the weird modern art piece, shattering the mahogany box into wood chips.

Peter lay sprawled in a heap in the wake of his failure, groaning and dazed. As he forced himself upright, gripping his head in his hand, the doors behind him burst open.

“What the hell?” Doc Oc exclaimed, alarm caked across his expression. When his gaze landed on the young superhero floundering in the splintered remains of his college art project, stunned and disheveled but now awake and wide-eyed, his muscles relaxed slightly. “Spider-Man?”

“Holy shit, he’s awake,” Electro said.

“And he destroyed your favorite sculpture,” Shocker added.

Peter’s eyes dashed between the three men, wild and afraid. He’d been unmasked by his absolute worst enemies—but that seemed the least of his troubles. I’m toast, he thought. Tiny pieces of wood clung to his hair, face, and back. Seeing him conscious for the first time sent a spark of relief through Doc Oc, though he hadn’t expected him to wake up for at least another day; the combination of pain meds he’d given him was pretty strong. When Octavius moved an inch closer to him, Peter scrambled to his feet and backed away, tripping over himself in the process and heavily favoring his right leg.

“Spider-Man—” he began, trying to keep his voice level. Spider-Man picked up a chunk of the destroyed box and chucked it at him.

“S-stay back!” he shouted. His voice was shrill and cracked at the end of the demand. Damn, Otto thought. The evidence of Spider-Man’s youthfulness was clear as day to him now—how had none of them noticed it before? Perhaps they had simply chosen not to notice.

Doc Oc dodged the projectile with ease. “Spider-Man, listen to me—”

Peter made a break for it, gunning for the opposite side of the room. He’d hardly made it two uncoordinated strides before three more figures emerged from a door behind the couch, blocking his escape path: Scorpion, Sandman, and Rhino. He skidded to a stop with a gasp.

“Whoa,” Rhino exclaimed, towering over the half-naked hero. “Would you look at that. Tiny spider is alive.”

Shit! Peter screamed internally. He whipped his gaze in every direction and realized he was surrounded.

“He needs to stop moving,” Otto said, knowing there was no way to accomplish that with words. He raised his tentacles above his head, the pincers snapping hungrily. “Grab him.”

Rhino made the first move, reaching out with his meaty hands to snag the kid by the arm. But Spider-Man ducked and rolled out of the way, moving surprisingly fast despite all of his injuries, though it was obvious the exertion was hurting him. Scorpion and Sandman tried next, lunging for his legs, but Peter hopped right over them and flipped backwards, wincing and staggering once his feet hit the floor and banging into the window.

“You’re going to reopen your wounds,” Octavius warned him. He thrust two tentacles at his torso, but Spider-Man flinched out of their grasp. Otto launched the other two arms at him, and Peter skirted between them, springing on to the wall. The exhaustion and terror in his face were evident. Otto felt bad for scaring him so much, but this was for his own good.

“Spider-Man—please,” he groused. His mechanical arms grabbed and snapped at the air, barely missing the slippery little hero every time. “Just—stay—still!”

Peter wasn’t listening to a word he said. All he knew was that he couldn’t let himself be caught. Every inch of him was screaming in agony. When the tentacles pounced on him all at once, Spider-Man shrunk small and dove underneath them, somersaulting past Doc Oc’s legs and popping up behind him. Peter bolted blindly for the double doors, only to ram straight into Rhino’s giant leg and fall flat on his ass. Three metal prongs clamped around his midsection before he could regather himself, pinning him to the floor.

“Agh!” Peter yelped, tugging uselessly at the claw’s strong teeth. “Let me go!”

Otto lifted Spider-Man off the ground. He continued to strain and squirm, kicking his legs and grappling with the mechanical pincers gripping his waist. The rest of the Sinister Six gathered around the frightened hero, forming a circle with him in the middle. He looked so small against the looming backdrop of super villains. His young face beamed with all the emotions his mask typically concealed—most prominently, fear.

“Spider-Man,” Octavius repeated, holding his hands out tentatively. “Calm down.”

“I’ll pass, thanks!” Peter quipped, betrayed by the tremble in his voice.

“Okay, it’s definitely him,” Electro groaned amusedly.

“I know you’re scared,” Doc Oc continued. “And you have every right to be. But if you don’t stop moving, you’re going to injure yourself further.”

“And if I don’t keep moving, you’re going to injure me further!” He thrashed and twisted valiantly, but it was evident he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. His movements were slowing down, his attempts to escape growing more and more pathetic. Otto waited for him to burn himself out, crossing his arms against his chest. It didn’t take long.

“Are you quite done now?”

Peter hung his head, breathless and shivery, gripping the prongs around his torso less to try to escape and more to hold himself upright. Perhaps his impromptu acrobatics display hadn’t been his smartest idea. All that leaping and flipping and bouncing around had sapped the last whispers of energy from his bones.

“Ugh…room’s…s-spinning,” he murmured. Otto took that as a “yes.” He held Spider-Man closer and frowned at a red spot on his ribs.

“And now look what you’ve done, you idiot. You’ve torn your stitches. I tried to warn you. Half an hour’s worth of sewing, down the drain because of your recklessness.”

“What are you…what…what’s…?” Spider-Man slurred. He was suddenly seeing double of everything. He dropped his gaze to his midriff and watched two blurry lines of blood slip down his side.

“I sutured you up, and you ruined it,” Octavius explained. Peter slowly lifted his head and wrinkled his brow.

“You…” he said, blinking repeatedly. “What?”

“Told you we gave him brain damage,” Rhino whispered. Peter looked at him over his shoulder, then swept his gaze around the circle, making eye contact with every member of the Sinister Six. They saw him. After all this time, his face was finally exposed to his enemies. No disguise, no secret identity, no mask. He felt so naked without it. Not having a shirt or pants on didn’t help either. Strangely, their expressions lacked their typical thirst for spider blood. It dawned on him that over a minute had passed, and none of them had tried to kill him. And so far, they still weren’t trying.

“I’m…confusion,” he stammered. “What—what’s happening right now?”

It was somewhat amusing to see Spider-Man so delirious and out of his element. Doctor Octopus lowered him to the ground but didn’t let go of his torso. Peter was almost glad he didn’t; he doubted he could stand on his own right now.

“I tended to your wounds while you were unconscious,” Octavius said. “It’s not a perfect patch job, but I did the best I could.”

Peter shook his head slowly, his big, brown Bambi eyes wide and puzzled. “I don’t understand.”

“I also gave you some pain killers, which might be making your head a bit fuzzy.”

“But…why?” he scoffed. “You did this to me. You’re the ones who…beat me up. You love beating me up. You—you hate me. You want me dead. You’ve tried to make me dead a million times.” Peter jolted suddenly, a cramp shooting through his broken leg. If he was on painkillers, they were doing a pretty piss-poor job. Everything hurt and was too confusing to comprehend. He closed his eyes and dropped his face into his hands, moaning. “Oh god…I’ve gotta be trapped in some crazy fever dream right now. Or maybe…I’m dead. Am I dead? None of this makes any sense…”

“You’re not dead, Peter,” Otto said, stifling a chuckle.

A shudder rippled through the teenager. He lowered his hands, revealing the colorless face behind them.

“How…how do you know my…?”

Shit, Doc Oc thought. It was a careless slip of the tongue. He had meant to keep his knowledge of Spider-Man’s alter ego a secret so as to not frighten him further, but it looked like the cat was out of the bag.

Peter’s gaze shifted anxiously between the six super villains again. Fresh fear clouded over his glassy eyes, and he went back to squirming against Octavius’ hold.

“Now what are you trying to do?” Otto asked, exasperated.

“G-get the hell out of here,” Peter answered. He yanked at the claw around his torso, grunting with effort. “I know what this is. This is—one of those—hrgg—P-Princess Bride situations, isn’t it?”

The team of villains exchanged bemused glances with each other. “What are you talking about?”

“You know—mmneh—when the bad guys—c-catch Wesley, then heal him—just so the life-sucky torture machine thing is—m-more torturous? That’s what this is, right?” His face was flushing red, and more of his sutures were starting to leach blood.

Scorpion threw up his hands. “What’s the brat trying to say?”

“I think he’s saying we only doctored his wounds so that when we kill him, it’ll be all the more slow and painful,” Electro clarified with a shrug. “Which honestly sounds pretty in character for most of us.”

“See? This guy gets it.” Peter pushed at the prongs with all his might. Even as a half-dead, half-conscious mess, the kid couldn’t stop himself from being a smartass.

“I’m just impressed he made a reference to a movie that came out before he was a concept,” Rhino said. “You know, instead of, like, Finding Nemo?”

Otto could see the strain Spider-Man was putting himself through in his pitiful attempts to escape, so he decided to see what would happen if he succeeded. When Spider-Man shoved at his metal pincers again, he let them snap open. Surprise flashed across Peter’s face as he dropped to the ground and wobbled on his feet, followed by weary triumph.

“Ha! See? T-told you I would…I could…”

He faltered and swayed, staggering backwards. Sandman enlarged his hand and caught him before he could hit the floor. Peter sat limply in his palm, breathing heavy, frail and febrile and injured and exhausted. He looked down at the sand-hand that had stopped him from falling, then back up at the surrounding circle of villains, fear and confusion stinging in the corners of his eyes.

“W-why aren’t you...trying to kill me?”

The room dipped into nervous silence. Spider-Man’s gaze continued to jump between them, searching for answers.

“Why did you treat the wounds you gave me?” he continued weakly. With every word that passed his lips, the shake in his voice increased. “W-what do you want from me? Are you trying to…turn me to the dark side or something?”

Shocker stroked his chin. “Wouldn’t be a bad idea…”

“No,” Sandman answered pointedly, shooting Shocker a sideways glare.

“Then what?” Peter snapped. “What’s going on? Why am I here? Why aren’t I dead yet?” Spider-Man dragged himself back to his feet, grimacing harshly. “T-tell me what you’re planning to do with me, or I’ll—I’ll…”

His scowl dropped suddenly, replaced by a look of panic. His eyes went wide and his jaw clenched.

“Or you’ll what?” Scorpion asked in a mocking tone.

When Peter didn’t answer him, Octavius took a step closer. “Spider-Man? What’s wrong?”

Gradually, the terror in his face gave way to dread. Peter sucked in a gasp and cupped his hand over his mouth.

“I think…I’m gonna puke.”

Otto blinked. “Oh,” he said. That was not the response he was expecting, but it didn’t look like the kid was joking. He lurched forward, stifling a gag, making everyone exclaim and leap back. His pale face hinted a sickly shade of green.

“Oh,” Octavius repeated, animated by a new sense of urgency. He glanced around frantically until he spotted the fern in the corner of the room. He seized it with one of his tentacles, dumped the plant and the soil onto the floor, then slid the empty pot in front of Spider-Man. “Uh, here.”

Peter moaned in defeat before doubling over the pot and retching violently. The Sinister Six turned away in disgust, fighting to keep their own lunches down. There was hardly anything inside him to upchuck in the first place, but his body continued to dry heave for another half-minute. Once the bout passed, Peter was left wheezing and trembling with his head held low. His throat burned and tears were slipping from his eyes faster than he could wipe them away.

“Forgot about the stomach flu,” Electro said, sticking out his tongue. “Blech.”

Peter wanted to ask how the hell they knew he had a stomach bug, among many other things, but he was too fatigued to form words.

Octavius turned back to him squeamishly. The poor kid looked so small, hurt, and sick. It amazed him how quickly his hate for Spider-Man had transformed into a tentative fondness. He felt the need to comfort him somehow, the way adults were supposed to comfort young ones when they weren’t feeling well. But he had no idea how.

Instead, he grabbed a roll of paper towels and a cup of water from the kitchen and placed them both by his side. “Here,” he said awkwardly.

Peter eyed the items and whimpered softly. With miserable, lethargic movements, Peter washed out his mouth and wiped his face, every breath aching in his chest. Shame and fever radiated off him in waves. When he was finished, he just sat there, panting and shivery. Too weak to move.

“I think you ought to lay back down, Spidey,” Sandman said, plucking the hero off the floor between two massive fingers. He returned him to the couch with delicate care, guiding his head to the pillow and draping the blanket over his body.

“No…” Peter mumbled languidly, trying to sit up. When he closed his eyes, he couldn’t get them to open again. “Just…tell me…why…”

Something cold and wet pressed against his forehead, gently pushing him back down. Octavius had grabbed a hand towel from the kitchen and soaked it in ice water. The cool touch against his skin was soothing and unexpectedly soporific. Slowly, his muscles went lax. His tumultuous thoughts faded into sleepy nothingness.

“We will,” Otto lied. “But for now, rest.”

It was almost endearing how quickly Spider-Man drifted back to sleep. Octavius left the towel on his forehead and watched as his breathing eased to a steady rhythm.

“Damn,” Shocker sighed. “Poor kid.”

“We really beat him senseless,” Rhino said.

Electro stood over the slumbering hero with his hands on his hips, tilting his head to the side. “Is it just me, or is Spider-Man, like…kind of adorable?”

Scorpion snorted. “Adorable?”

“You know! In that, like, puppy-dog, dumb little kid kind of way. I mean, look at him! Does no one else think so?”

Sandman shrugged, fighting back a smile. “I mean, maybe. Sorta.” His expression gradually hardened, and he looked at Doc Oc. “So…is what you said before true? Is he really, like, an orphan?”

Otto lowered his gaze. “Not exactly. His parents died when he was a toddler, and he was adopted by his aunt and uncle, who became like parents to him. But then his uncle was killed last year, so now it’s just him and his aunt. He hasn’t had a particularly easy life.”

“And we certainly haven’t helped on that front,” Rhino added.

“It’s insane to me that at his age, this is what he chose to do with his powers. If I’d gotten his abilities when I was fifteen and gone through all that loss, I’d have been robbing every store on 5th Avenue.”

Shocker smirked. “I hate to say it, but...he’s kind of a good kid. Even if he is an obnoxious little dumbass.”

Amidst the conversation, Octavius’ face remained stoic, unreadable. He waited a while before clearing his throat. “I…wanted to let you all know. I, um, spoke to Tombstone this morning.”

All eyes turned to him, alarmed.

“He saw footage of us capturing Spider-Man on the news,” he explained. “He’s offering us two million each in exchange for the kid.”

Rhino’s jaw dropped. “Two million dollars? For each of us?”

“Holy shit,” Sandman breathed.

“What the hell?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“And he just wants the kid?” Shocker exclaimed. "That’s it?”

Otto nodded slowly. “Alive, but yes. That’s all he wants.” He swallowed and looked at the floor. “He’s given us until the end of the week to accept his offer.”

Excitement and dismay swept across everyone’s expressions. Each person waited for someone to speak up, for someone else to say no, we can’t. But it was just too tempting a proposition to dismiss out of hand. They could finally be free to do what they wanted. Free to live as they pleased, villainous or otherwise. Free to punish this city the way it had punished them, if they so choose. Turning over the kid was all it would take. One quick transaction. Hand over their nemesis, their sworn enemy, and it was done. They’d be rich.

“What the hell does he plan to do with him?” Sandman whispered uneasily.

“We don’t have to decide right now,” Doc Oc clarified. “I just wanted to make you aware of the opportunity. We can discuss it more later.”

An air of tentative relief settled over the room. Electro puffed out his cheeks and crossed his arms against his chest.

“In that case, what are we going to tell him when he wakes up again? That we want to sell him to some psychopath so we can all be millionaires? That we think he’s cute and want to keep him as a pet?”

Doctor Octopus shook his head. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” he said. He turned back to his team. “I’ll keep monitoring him and re-treat the wounds he opened. I think it’s best we always have a pair of eyes on him to prevent another incident involving the destruction of my art pieces.”

The rest of the Sinister Six agreed, scattering throughout the complex, the proposition weighing heavily on all of their minds. Otto put on some classical music and began mopping the fresh blood off Peter’s torso.

#spiderman #spider-man #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman homecoming #Spider-Man: Homecoming #spider-man: far from home #sick fic #marvel #mcu #peter parker #spiderman ffh

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dastardlydandelion · 3 years

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Max Mayfield and Tory Nichols in a horror film, what would be the plot/monster and would they survive?

this is it. this is the tumblr ask. the ask i've been waiting for my whole life. my time to shine, here we go!

filming begins under the cut:

tried and true creature feature, this is a werewolf movie. let's go with a werewolf between the van helsing (2004) and trick r treat (2007) variety. the beast once transformed is fucking huge, clearly both lupine and human, head almost entirely wolf, body primarily bipedal in shape, but robust, sinew shredding claws and big ass bone tearing teeth. also tails!! bc tails are cute!!! powers include monstrous strength, accelerated speed, healing factor. weaknesses silver and decapitation.

okay, so van helsing (2004) werewolves are mindless rage monsters and trick r treat (2007) werewolves are cognizant. for our max & tory creature feature, they're gonna of the in between variety. i chose a werewolf movie for these two specifically bc they both have their anger problems and the werewolf has long been a symbol of anger unleashed in the horror genre, even tho common gray wolves are just like. i mean, yk, animals, they hunt and howl and pee on trees and most of the time would rather avoid humans. but obvi horror genre werewolves are not common gray wolves, they need to be scary, and like, the remnants of traditional folklore influenced by rabies and discourse in the middle ages...wait, where was i going with this? anger, yes, max and tory both have anger problems and i think this works for what i'm gonna do with this theoretical movie.

who's the werewolf in town? terry fucking silver. bc terry is evil and dramatic and also, i think it's rly funny for a werewolf to have silver as a surname. he's fully cognizant in his transformation and he's purposefully biting kids and teenagers bc he wants more talented karate students. and like. yk, with the enhanced strength, speed, and regenerative recovery of lycanthropy, well. there u have it, more talented karate students.

do max and tory know each other, if so, how? okay, so in this 'verse tory is a lil older than max. that reflects their canon ages, i think. let's say max is 13 and tory is 16. billy has tory in some of his classes and he more or less makes a deal to spilt his allowance with her if she'll babysit max bc he's tired of neil riding his ass to babysit max. tory needs money so she's like, 'sure, why not.' max finds it rly stupid that she's 13 and neil thinks she needs a fucking babysitter but as far as babysitters go, tory is fun. she likes to show max what she's learning in cobra kai and they spar together a lot. max would actually like to join cobra kai but 1) neil would throw a fit on various fronts and 2) lucas is in miyagi-do. max knows there's some rly intense beef between cobra kai and miyagi-do. ofc tory's filled her in on the karate war, how could she not?

well one day tory takes max to the playground to watch a plane fly like she does with miggy in ck, and it's nighttime, ofc, and lo, the full moon is out. shining up in the sky. they hear a howl. they both look at each other. max is kinda curious but tory's like nah, nah, we gotta go. she grabs her, starts pulling her along. but the next howl is a lot closer and they can hear smth running and it just sounds fuckin big. they're running too now, legs pumping hard, but there's no escape once the beast is right behind them, hot, rancid breath blasting the backs of their necks and harvest gold eyes glowing in the dark.

max gets bitten first. tory tries to kick the big ass beast off of her and then it rounds and bites her too. the terror is real now. and then shockingly, as fast as it'd come, it leaves. neither girl has an explanation for wtaf just happened but tory takes max home. billy gripes at her for being out late but helps her patch up. when susan learns what happens she decides to take max to get rabies shots right away. loads her up in the car, runs her off to the emergency room-- but when the bandages come off, they are no wounds.

tory's bby bro tries to help patch her up too. but he's like 4 yrs old and his idea of "help" is sticking bandaids with cartoon characters up and down the wounds in haphazard fashion. tory plans to redo it all properly once she's put him to bed. sure enough after he's asleep, and she peels the bandaids off from every open mouthed pac-man to every green teenage mutant ninja turtle, the wounds are gone.

meanwhile there's missing ppl err day on the news. terry turns kids and teens but kills adults for the lulz.

tory and max know what happened to them was an event that tangibly, definitely happened but neither have any explanation for their wounds just disappearing. max, our resident horror fan, is the first to propose a real life werewolf as an explanation. she cites the missing ppl on the news. tory thinks she's tripping balls but reluctantly gives an inch when she acknowledges no, she can't think of any other explanation.

life goes on. max tells lucas what happened only she leaves out the part abt tory bc she's not gonna tell a miyagi-do student she's kickin it w the enemy. he doesn't rly believe her, like how she didn't rly believe him about the upside-down in their canon. he thinks the horror movies are rotting her brain.

tory almost tells her dojo but she gets distracted being pissed off by sam and that should be her priority, right? sensei kreese is always going on abt getting back at the enemy. she spends her shifts daydreaming abt revenge bc it's more comforting than worrying abt past due bills and her mother looking paler by the day.

full moon next month comes around. neither tory nor max are cognizant of or during their first respective transformations. max's first kill is neil. she's seven feet of fur and fury, tears his ribcage open with claws like daggers and sinks her teeth into his putrid, maggoty heart. susan isn't home. billy is, but he doesn't hear any of the fracas. he's unconscious on the living room floor, crisscrossing impressions of neil's belt buckle blaring red on his back.

tory's first kill is sam. sam larusso wants to think she's a bully?? fine, tory will show her a bully. she hops the miyagi-do fence after hours. she just wants a fight. just a fight, they always fight. but then she's sprouting fur and tory as tory gives way to smth else. she'd not aware of being a person when she doesn't have fur. not really, all she knows is rage and ravenousness and the morsel below her has bunny rabbit wide eyes.

neither of them remember what they did the next day. not vividly, anyway. it's there but it's cloudy and hard to discern, like a groggy fever dream more than a memory. but max burps up neil's wedding band and tory finds señor octopus (sam's stuffed animal) bloodied in her bed. it's apparent what happened. max accepts this more easily than tory bc 1) she always kind of suspected she'd turn, since she sincerely considered what attacked them was a werewolf and 2) max isn't terribly upset abt killing neil while tory is acutely horrified she killed sam.

max kinda had some smidgen of attachment to neil bc like, he's the only father figure in her life and here and there they've had their moments. but his abuse (psychological/physical toward billy, sexual/financial/psychological/emotional toward susan, psychological/emotional toward herself) outweighed any and all of those moments. she is genuinely concerned that she tore a human being to pieces and only vaguely remembers it but like, if she had to kill anyone, she figures neil was the best to kill. max is mostly concerned bc she can't kill neil a second time. she's worried the next time she turns it could be an innocent person, or one of her friends, or her mom, or billy.

tory is blindsided and scarcely able to comprehend the reality, holy shit, max was right, she's a fuckin werewolf. and she's sick to her stomach bc she hated sam but she never wanted to do anything like that. she didn't want to kill, she just wanted to break her face. scare her. rough her up. she didn't want to eat her. she just killed someone. she's a literal horror movie monster and she just killed sam. what's miguel going to think?

tory and max talk. they decide they need to find the werewolf who turned them. we get montages of them going over the news articles with a fine-toothed *ba dum tss* comb and searching areas where it seems like a werewolf would be. the woods. some caves. max all of a sudden has a freakishly tall man constantly hounding her to join cobra kai. neil's gone but she still hesitates bc of lucas being in miyagi-do. also he believes max now and with the proff, she's decided to let the rest of the party in as well. they also exist in this 'verse. she showed them the crime scene and the wedding band she burped up. billy isn't a roid rage racist in this 'verse bc that would be a giant buzzkill. he doesn't believe the werewolf shit either. he thinks max saw neil get attacked by some animal and that the carnage was so traumatizing for her, she subconsciously created a werewolf fantasy to cope.

tory meanwhile spirals downward. bc she passes sam's memorialized locker in the hall everyday. her memorial table in the other hall, full of sticky note condolences and mournful teddy bears, and a picture of sam right in the center always, always accusing her. miggy is heartbroken and distraught. hawk didn't care for sam but even he's freaked out by what happened, how the news said there were only torn up chunks and bones picked clean found in her bedroom. tory is terrified of herself. she's desperate to find whoever did this bc she wants to make them pay. if sensei silver has been asking her extra questions lately and presenting her performance to the class more than normal, she doesn't notice at all. aisha notices tory's fucked up but tory can't exactly tell aisha that she *ate* sam. aisha is also mourning, she and sam used to be bffs. so she doesn't say a word.

max has a theory that if u can learn to control ur anger, u can learn to control urself when u shift. she is, after all, v familiar with angry horror movie werewolves. and she's savvy enough to know it's smth she and tory have in common. neil is dead but that doesn't mean max isn't angry anymore. she's still angry at the damage already done and tbh also angry that there's some werewolf around turning ppl willy nilly bc she recognizes the danger in that and it wasn't smth she consented to. but controlling ur anger is an easier feat for max than tory insofar that max has a support system w her friends, and better relationships with the remainder of her fam. tory has two mentors actively, adamantly teaching her and her friends to be ruthless, view the world as ur enemy, use violence as ur go-to solution, and that mercy is weakness not to be tolerated.

when the next full moon rolls around, they decide to spend it together under the correct inference that they will transform. they think it's better to be together. they're hoping they'll be able to control each other, if not themselves. or that if they are both mindless rage monsters again, that rage will be turned on each other. this would be a better outcome operating on the presumption that one werewolf will be able to take what another can dish out, at the v least more so than a regular human being.

max is successfully able to maintain enough of her consciousness to control her actions once transformed. she feels aggressive and hungry, but not enraged and ravenous. she can keep it in check. tory, on the other hand, uh...tory can't do it. she throws her wolf head back in the most bloodcurdling howl ever and takes off like a bat outta hell. max goes loping after her. they can't speak like human speak in this form, but max tries to communicate with her. whimpers plaintively. tackles tory at one point, not out of anger but just tryna subdue her, licks at her ears and tries to get her to settle. tory bucks her off.

tory runs off again, max in pursuit. they wind up at the skate park where billy n robby are prolly up to some fuckery or another. i could easily see pre miyagi-do robby n billy getting up to all kinds of mischief. ooh, actually, they're prolly arguing abt that. now that robby's in miyagi-do he has another outlet for all his energy and he's getting the positive attention he craves so he's not participating in hooligan activity or shenanigans w billy anymore and billy is like. offended. except suddenly there's werewolves. fucking. snarling, gigantic, toothy, hairy ass werewolves.

let's say robby kicked miguel down two stories in this 'verse too and tory recognizes him in her werewolf form even if she isn't exactly cognizant of herself. she tears straight for him, jaws open. billy doesn't exactly *mean* to protect him but it's kinda an automatic reaction from putting himself in between whenever he thought neil was getting too aggressive w susan or max. and like, sure, robby's the better fighter (not that billy would ever acknowledge this) but it's not like he's gonna karate kick the motherfuckin werewolf anyway-- billy is bigger, he's bigger and it's instinct and the next thing he knows, he's in between robby and the thing w sharp teeth (tory).

and that's when max gets serious. she bowls tory over, away from billy before she can bite. they're rolling, tearing at each other with teeth and claws. lo and behold, terry silver is lurking in the background like the evil mastermind he is, just watching them shred each other and evaluating his experiment. it's a p close match and tory is the more aggressive of the two but she's also been going, going, going since she shifted and she's burning herself out. she's also fighting with the blind instinct of a threatened animal while max maintains more precision bc she has better control of herself. max also isn't wasting energy unnecessarily. max gets her jaws around tory's throat and tory just goes slack. but she can think and she doesn't want to hurt tory, so she opens her mouth and relaxes her maw, teeth grazing harmlessly thru tory's fur.

tory's being shown mercy. possibly for the first time. it's so unlike her conception of others' ruthlessness, so unlike the worldview that's been instilled into her that it startles her enough to crack thru to her cognizance. she does the wolfy deference thing where they tuck their tails and lick at the dominant pack member's muzzle. max responds in kind and lets tory up.

this is when they notice terry lurking (billy's already worked out the werewolf that came to his defense is max so he's just dumbfounded watching all this shit, and robby's not abt to leave someone who just saved his ass, so he's stuck unsuccessfully tryna pull billy away and inevitably watching too). terry calmly slinks over, sizing up his charges. he's pleased with the performance. but tory and max are anything but, another werewolf fight ensues.

so while they all get huge after transforming sheerly on the basis of being werewolves, i'm gonna guess the size is proportionate to their human forms. so tory is a little larger than max and terry significantly outsizes them both. terry is also the more experienced werewolf. it's two against one but it's not the curbstop it would be if this was some weaksauce werewolf, it's dramatic evil karate werewolf terry fuckin silver. terry's shredding tf outta these two. their healing factor can't keep up, he's dishing out faster than either of them can recover and tbh they were already winded from fighting each other first.

but it'd be a major buzzkill if our movie had a downer ending. and also, the power of determination and friendship and shit. terry's got his jaws around max's throat now. he's a millisecond away from tearing it open. tory's pinned under him but she thinks fast, frees a hind leg, and rips her claws down his soft underbelly as deep as she can and doesn't stop ripping, like pedal kicking almost for a human, but with her hind claws. his intestines shoot out like paper snakes from a gag candy can!! okay, well, maybe they don't shoot out w that much gusto, but still. the bowels are free, the bowels are hanging low and tory's tearing 'em tf up, fluids n fecal matter errywhere. on tory. i'm sorry tory. ur under him, that's just how gravity works.

terry dies. healing factor can't keep up with the damage done, it's too critical. but nobody knows it's terry until the dawn breaks and he reverts back to his human shape.

max is v much 'i told u so,' in billy's face. robby promises not to tell. he doesn't want to get mauled or killed or anything. tory's able to cope better with what she did to sam knowing that it won't happen again, that she won't hurt anyone else she doesn't want to be she can control herself now. tory believes in mercy now bc max spared her, she trashes kreese's philosophy and joins eagle fang when johnny and daniel join forces in this 'verse too. max also joins eagle fang, takes her place in the front row right between tory and lucas at her v first practice.

credits roll.

after the credits we see tory considering turning her mother in the hopes that having the healing factor would help her mom's condition improve.

is that a teaser for the sequel?

idfk.

#max mayfield #dare i tag tory #i dare not #lucdarling #ask box #my fic tag #i kind of want to write this as a fic for real #fuck

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scaredofheroin · 4 years

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Captain N - Chapter 15: Bright Lights, Big City

Soon after being sucked down the warp pipe, Captain N found that Zelda's claim was proven correct. Even though he could feel himself shooting through the pipe faster than before, Captain N could tell the pipe ride to New Donk City was longer than the previous pipe he traveled through. Like before, he couldn't see or hear his allies in front of him, his senses being filled only by the blackness of the pipe and the cold air whipping past his ears. The sensation of traveling through a warp pipe was as strange as it was the first two times, feeling as if he was being sucked through a massive vacuum cleaner. Thoughts of his home still haunted his mind. The trees and tall grass growing on the side of the worn, deteriorating asphalt road cutting through the woods of Midnight Lights, the sun hanging high in the sky as a cool breeze brushed through. This image brought a pang of nostalgia he never imagined he would feel for such a mundane situation. The trees and grass of Yamajiro were similar to his own, but different enough in incredibly subtle ways to feel alien and unfamiliar. The grass was too brightly colored, the trees were too shapely, none of the world around him made him feel at home. The differences didn't stop with the plant life, either. The sky was colored a subtly different hue of blue, and the sun was slightly larger than he was used to. All these examples of "almost, but not quite" left him with a slightly uneasy feeling, as if trapped in an artificial world.

As he was reminiscing about the most mundane aspects of Earth, light suddenly returned to his field of vision. With the air around him warming up once again, he could tell New Donk City was near. Preparing himself mentally for being shot out of the pipe once more, he steadied his legs and braced himself. Emerging from the pipe with the three familiar gulping sounds, Captain N maintained this stronger form, landing squarely on his feet on the metal platform below. Feeling slight satisfaction at his improvement, he looked up to see Pit, Falco and Zelda leaning on the platform’s guardrail and looking ahead at the city, with a cable car on a large cord leading down to the main road. Captain N joined them, getting a good view ahead. From a distance, the city looked incredibly populated and lively, with neon billboards decorating surprisingly modern skyscrapers, and cars and taxi cabs busily traveling through the roads. Once again, Captain N was left with a subtly uneasy feeling from the city, everything about it feeling slightly off. The taxi cabs were adorned with slightly different writing, the buildings were colored either too dark or too light from the usual gray color he was used to, as well as more of the skyscrapers being pointed at the top. He was so close to home, yet so far away.

"It's been a while since anyone came from that warp pipe." Came a chipper voice from behind him. The four turned to face the voice and were met with a woman in a semi-formal uniform behind a tourist stand adorned with merchandise of New Donk City. "Is there anything you all need help with today?" She politely asked, but quickly experienced minor shock upon seeing Zelda with the three, and immediately corrected her demeanor. "I, I mean, welcome to New Donk City, your highness." She spoke, as formally as she could muster in spite of her nervousness. "Thank you, but I wish we were here for solely leisurely purposes." Zelda replied, as noble as ever. "Well, it would be an honor to assist the Princess of Hyrule, is there any way I can help?" The woman asked. "You wouldn't happen to know where we could find Ryu, would you?" Pit asked her, stepping forward. "Uh, well, not really." She sheepishly admitted. "But maybe Mayor Pauline would! I bet she'd be willing to meet with you all!" "And she's in city hall?" Falco asked further. "She should be! I'm not privy to her schedule, but it's worth a shot." The woman confirmed. Captain N was still looking over at the city, listening in on the conversation. The air was remarkably warm, and the hustle and bustle of the city could be heard even from such a long distance away. "Are you okay, sir?" The woman asked him, catching him off guard slightly. "Yeah, I'm just... new around here." Captain N covered up, turning back to her. "Well in that case, you might want a map!" She offered, pulling one neatly folded map from the display and holding out for him. He carefully took the map and unfolded it, surprised by how large New Donk City was from the illustration, with places of interest marked on the key. But looking at the woman, he was surprised to find her identical to his own species. She didn't have wings like Pit or pointed ears like Zelda, she looked like an ordinary human. "We'll make sure he doesn't get lost." Pit assured the woman. "In that case, is there anything else I can help you with today?" She politely asked the group. Captain N folded the map back up and stored it in his jacket pocket. "That will be all, thank you ma'am." Zelda answered her. "In that case, I'll fire up the cable car and get you folks down to main street! Welcome to the Big Banana, the city that never leaps!" She boldly concluded, flipping a nearby switch in the booth. The cable car whirred to life behind them, the sound of a basic motor rumbling in the device holding the car to the cable. With one last "thank you", the four carefully got into the cable car, which was found to be a bit small, barely being able to hold two people on each side. Captain N found himself crammed in next to Falco, with Pit and Zelda on the other side. But once they were all secured, the machinery kicked into gear, and carried them down to the main entrance to New Donk City.

"Seems like your disguise wasn't very effective." noted Falco, looking at Zelda. "Perhaps, but we can't afford to turn back for a wardrobe change. Surely the people will be too busy with their own tasks to notice." Zelda reinforced, undeterred. "How come Princess Zelda was the only one to get recognized? Aren't you two kind of celebrities as well?" Captain N asked Pit and Falco. "Not really, Pit spends most of his time helping out Palutena and I've spent most of my life on the planet Corneria." Falco casually explained, leaving Captain N surprised to find that Falco was essentially an alien. "So, what do we do? Apart from asking Mayor Pauline, I mean." Pit asked the group. "Well, Princess Zelda has telepathy, right? I say we split up and try to cover more ground that way. I've got a map, so we could try asking around the more populated areas." Captain N semi-confidently offered, not entirely comfortable with the idea of splitting up, but felt a need to contribute something. "That's rather risky. If we get into conflict it could mean more trouble if we're separated from each other." Zelda responded. "I say it's worth a shot! Plus, I'm sure we could handle ourselves if we get into a sticky situation." Pit piped up, adjusting himself as to not be crammed right next to Zelda. "Well then, where should we look other than bothering the mayor, Mr. Map?" Falco asked Captain N. Getting the map back out of his pocket, he looked over the places of interest marked on the key. Beneath the Projection Room, Crazy Cap flagship store and RC car room, what stuck out to Captain N was the Commemorative Park. "Maybe we could check there?" He offered, pointing at the park. "Maybe we could find someone there who's in the know on what Ryu is up to, or he could be training there." "Sounds good to me!" Pit happily responded. Falco idly nodded, not offering any other ideas. "Then it's decided. Pit and I will search the park, and you two can try to meet Mayor Pauline." Zelda concluded, still slightly fidgeting with her dress. Captain N put his right hand out, facing down in the middle of the space between the four. None of the three others knew what this meant, and he was only met with confused looks. "Come on, put 'em there." Captain N insisted. After some slight hesitation, the three put their hands in the middle, where Captain N lifted them into the air, with a hearty "Go team!" before the car came to a stop with a sudden clunk.

Captain N carefully stepped out of the cable car, Zelda, Falco and Pit following. Up close, Captain N could see the countless men and women in black and gray formal attire densely populating the sidewalks, some carrying briefcases. Steam rose from beneath the manhole covers when not obscured by the countless cars, motorized scooters and taxi cabs populating the streets. The buildings closest to the entrance could be identified as apartment buildings, with fire escapes on the exterior. In the distance could be seen the taller, more pointed buildings where business took place. Countless billboards adorned the nearby walls, from advertising music events to the Crazy Cap store to the upcoming World Warrior Tournament. Falco nudged Captain N slightly, motioning to the rooftops ahead. There could be spotted Koopa, Kremlings and small, tan creatures with round bodies and stubby limbs, all patrolling the edge of the buildings while carrying high-tech spears. "Looks like Waddle Dees up there." Pit whispered, keeping his head low to avoid eye contact with them. Captain N nodded, and quickly led the group down the sidewalk, obscuring the four somewhat in the massive crowds. The horde of hasty businesspeople going about their daily lives felt reminiscent of the crowded hallways of Midnight Lights High School, where he learned to survive the torrential waves of classmates and the occasional faculty member in between classes. Fortunately, the businesspeople were too focused with their own tasks and responsibilities to pay the four much notice, despite Pit and Falco standing out with their avian features. The hat, while cumbersome, proved especially helpful in obscuring Zelda from the sight of those patrolling the rooftops. The businesspeople moved as if they were packed together like sardines, so maneuvering through the crowds proved a difficult task. With the map, Captain N quickly noted the group's current location in the city, and while walking at a brisk pace matching those of the businessmen around them. Stopping at a busy intersection, Zelda took a quick glance at the map and found the path to the Commemorative Park. "Looks like this is where we part ways." Pit spoke up. Nodding, Zelda straightened her posture and looked to Captain N and Falco. "If you two get into trouble, reach out to me in your mind, and Pit and I will-" "Don't worry, we got this, don't we, Cap'n?" Falco interrupted, nudging Captain N. Despite his slight worry of parting with two of his only allies made so far in this new world, Captain N nodded along, with an earnest "Yeah, we’ve survived worse, right?". Zelda still wasn't entirely swayed. "It's not your well-being I'm concerned for, Lombardi, rather your reckless inclination." She noted, earning a scoff from him. "Y'hear that, Cap? She doesn't care about me." He reiterated with mock-hurt in his voice. "You get too eager to use that weapon at your side and it could endanger countless civilians!" Zelda insisted. "That's why he's got me, Princess. I'll keep him on a short leash." Captain N interjected, using Falco's earlier quip against him, much to Falco's annoyance. "Then it's decided! We better get going before someone nasty notices us." Pit cut in, impatient to get going. Zelda sighed in reluctant acceptance and bid the two good luck before she and Pit set off in the opposite direction. Left with Falco, Captain N watched Pit and Zelda disappear from his vision, vanishing into the crowd. "Come on, let's not keep Miss Mayor waiting." Falco reminded him. Captain N put on a more confident face, turned back to Falco, and responded with "Yeah, let's roll.".

As they tried to casually stroll alongside the businesspeople to remain inconspicuous, Captain N spotted a good amount of Toad people struggling to make their way amid the dense crowds. Their short, stubby stature did little to aid them, being pushed around and almost tripped over by the much larger people who barely paid them any mind, except when they almost cause the businesspeople to trip over. The struggle of the Toad people was felt by Captain N, empathizing with how out of place they felt, suddenly being in a completely alien situation they're clearly unsuited for. Peering out of the corner of his eyes, he could spot the Koopa, Waddle Dees and Kremlings patrolling diligently across the rooftops. Both he and Falco could tell they were incredibly impatient to use their advanced spears, constructed of white metal with bright blue machinery underneath. Fortunately, the two were slightly shorter than the businesspeople surrounding them, helping hide the two fugitives from the sight of the three king's forces. Upon closer inspection to those around him, Captain N could tell the businesspeople were uneasy being surrounded by the nefarious forces above them. Each one of those around him kept their heads down and avoided looking at the goons above, as if expecting to be fired upon at a moment's notice. Who knows what kind of trouble could have happened before, Captain N wondered? With the cars on the road rushing by, enough ambient noise was provided to hide conversations between Falco and Captain N from prying ears. "So... you're an alien?" Captain N awkwardly asked Falco.

"In a way. From where I'm standing, you’re alien." Falco pointed out.

"Yeah, good point." Captain N relented.

A moment of silence between the two passed as they walked.

"So, what's Corneria like?" Captain N asked.

"A lot more advanced than this planet. We completed our space program before the Mushroom Kingdom was even created. In fact, those guys back in New Leaf Town are actually the great-grandkids of the first Cornerians to live on Yamajiro." Falco bragged, taking pride in his planet's achievements.

"I assume the Arwing was built on Corneria?"

"Pfft, yeah! Those rickety airships are as advanced as Yamajiro technology gets!" Falco boasted.

"That doesn't sound so bad, given their armaments." Captain N reminded him.

"That's cheating, and you know it. They didn't invent them on their own, those three creeps were GIVEN those high-tech gizmos from who-knows-who," Falco was quick to shoot back.

Another moment passed between the two.

"So... what else does this solar system have?" Captain N asked.

"Well, you've got this planet, Corneria, the desert planet Titania, the ice planet Fichina, there's Sauria, Venom, and... Zoness." He answered, a tinge of disgust in his voice in mentioning the last planet.

"...Have you visited them?"

"All those and then some, even planets outside the system like Zebes and Big Blue." Falco informed him with pride in his voice.

"Wow..." Captain N said, amazed at the prospect of such adventures.

"I guess they don't have space travel back where you're from?"

"...Not really. The farthest we've ever gone is the Moon."

Falco snickered at the thought, the concept seeming quaint to his experiences.

On the way to the mayor's office, a large, brightly lit billboard on a wall nearby caught Captain N's attention. The billboard proudly displayed Mario in an energetic jumping motion, smiling at the viewer with "SUPER MARIO BROS. - NOW PLAYING" right next to him in blocky, multicolored text. Captain N stopped walking to take in the billboard, feeling incredibly small in comparison. He could feel a sense of gravitas emanate from the massive illustration of Mario, his bold yet positive demeanor providing a stark contrast against Captain N's inner turmoil. Looking up at the billboard, Captain N knew he couldn't compare. He felt like a child playing pretend. Mario has been made out to be larger than life, in a sense. The greatest hero in the Mushroom Kingdom, whose might and bravery were so great he saved Princess Peach and triumphed over Bowser time and time again.

But not this time.

Bowser and his two ally kings now possessed a power unparalleled by anything seen before. They now possess a power so great that not just Mario, but Link, Samus Aran, Kirby and other presumably legendary heroes failed in their mission. To his right, Captain N spotted a businessman having stopped to look up at the massive billboard of Mario. When the two shared eye contact, a moment of knowing mourning was shared at the disappearance of Mario, before the businessman hung his head defeatedly and continued on his way. The weight on Captain N's shoulders grew more intense, knowing what was at stake. He, who only just arrived in this world, now had to triumph where men greater than him had failed. He couldn't bear to look back at the billboard of Mario, feeling he doesn't deserve to look upon someone with such prestige and call them his equal.

"...You doing alright, Cap?" Falco asked him, bringing him back to reality. Captain N stepped back and turned away from the billboard, facing Falco. He took in a deep breath to puff up his chest, and nod reassuringly. "Yeah, I'll make it." He assured, not entirely convincing Falco. "Well, we shouldn't stand around much longer, those goons are gonna notice us." Falco reminded him, subtly motioning to the Koopa atop the tall buildings. In agreement, Captain N continued on to City Hall, which was marked on the map as the tallest building near the plaza. The rest of the walk wasn't too troublesome, apart from getting in between businessmen and the odd Toad people. Captain N's red varsity jacket and jeans and Falco's blue avian physiology made them stand out noticeably among the crowd of homogeneously dressed businesspeople, but not so much so to cause a disruption. Soon enough, after crossing the plaza decorated with a fountain and grassy pathways, the two found themselves before the massive city hall. Separated from the interior only by three pristine, glass doors. Feeling slightly intimidated by the massive building in its art deco style, Captain N looked to Falco and remarked “We best not keep the Mayor waiting, huh?”. Falco nodded, and the two pushed open the doors and walked in.

#captain n #nintendo #fanfic #crossover #writing #super mario #pauline #princess peach #mario #bowser #the legend of zelda #princess zelda #star fox #Falco Lombardi #kid icarus #pit

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knightowl725 · 4 years

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Healing in a Graveyard

Fandom: Critical Role

For Fjorclay Week 2020′s Modern AU Prompt - a day early because I wrote something very short for today’s actual prompt and got super excited about this one. More chapters to follow.

Read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23828932/chapters/57258880

Chapter One: Just For A Few Days

Fjord had never expected to agree when Beau and Jester first dragged him to see the place. The Blooming Grove.

“It’s a big house near campus,” Jester told him. “They’re very friendly to students, and the prices are very reasonable. Molly said there were lots of empty rooms they want to rent out.”

“Yeah, but it’s in a graveyard,” Fjord reminded her. She ignored him.

"We'll all have rooms near each other and share meals and hang out.”

"If our rooms are next to each other, we can learn morse code and tap messages!" Beau exclaimed, and that one got to him. So he went along to take a look at the place. Yasha and Molly were already living there, and it was Molly that showed them around in the absent landlord’s stead.

Fjord said no at first. He was with Avantika and her crew. He'd gotten in with Avantika early on, when it all first became overwhelming. Classes and a part time job, topped with the social pressures of a smaller school, it was all too much. Avantika had found him then, drawn him in and all but fed him to that…

If he was honest he'd just call it a cult. Like Jester's Traveler but instead of lighthearted mischief it was promising your eternal devotion and doing some mildly illegal shit. They found him at his lowest and made him feel wanted, welcome. Like he was family.

An entire year and some had gone by. And Fjord was getting thinner, more tired, more drawn out every day.

Beau burst into his room one day after class. He was living in a house with the rest of Avantika’s group, The Champions, in a room he shared with three other people. It was a cramped house, and it ate up all the money he made at his part-time job. But that was the price you paid to be family. A Champion.

No one else was home right now, off under Avantika’s guidance to do something in their snake god’s honor. Fjord still felt shivers every time they said its name.

A rap on his window jolted him upright, books strewn around him on the bed. He went to the window to find Beau crouched outside it, perched on a part of the roof that met the house under his window.

He unlocked the window and flung it open. “Beau! What are you--”

She slid into the room past him. “Intervention!”

“Inter--”

“The semester is nearly over,” she said, starting to wander around the room, piling up his books and school supplies. “There’s only a few weeks left, tons of tests and shit. You said yourself that these...freaks or whatever...are distracting you, and you’re this close to losing your scholarship.”

“Yeah, bu--”

“They take all your money, force you to work with them, act super controlling all the time, and now you can’t even study.”

“They let me miss out today to stud--”

Beau found his duffel bag and began shoving books into it. “You’re staying with me for a few days. Just a few days! Swear. You need to get out of this creepy house--”

“And into the graveyard?’

She gave him a pointed look. “Isn’t it saying something that the graveyard isn’t half as creepy?”

He rolled his eyes, and she went on, “You’re getting a break, dude. You need it. Everyone agrees. We’re intervening and forcing it.”

“Beau--”

“Just a few days,” she insisted, a little softer. “Hang out with your friends, focus on school, then you’ll be back in this shithole selling your soul to whatever like you always dreamed.”

She shoved the open bag, stuffed with books, into his arms like it weighed nothing. He nearly buckled at the sudden weight. “Pack up your laptop and some clothes and shit.”

Fjord tried to argue further, but she was right. He was exhausted. And loud as their friend group was, they knew how to respect someone trying to keep a scholarship. They wouldn’t follow him to the library to drag him to a ‘mandatory meeting’ no one told him about, or burst into class in the middle of a test because he had a ‘personal emergency’ that was just another meeting. Or remind him at least twice a week that he could always drop out and just work full time with them.

With a deep, tired sigh, Fjord relented.

~~~~

It had been raining, a hot summer rain. Sticky and gross.

"C’mon!" Beau ordered, literally dragging him by the arm through the graveyard with her insane strength. "Just stay for, like, three days. Get your head on right."

"There's no way your landlord will let me stay."

"You haven't met the guy," she said with a strange expression. Like bewilderment met respect. It was always the look his friends who lived there wore when talking about their landlord and neighbor. "His family has owned this place since like forever. He acts like a major stoner though I rarely see him smoke, and all he wants is tenants that keep the place lively but not destroyed. And to feed us sometimes. But it's dope vegan shit."

"Sounds like the weirdest hippie ever."

"Oh, he is," she assured him.

And Fjord gave in and followed her up the last steps up to the building they called the “Xhorhas”.

The building itself was old, but sturdy. A stone and brick structure that had stood longer than some of the Grove’s vibrant trees. It was almost mid-Spring then, and the garden-graveyard was bursting with color and flowers and bugs.

“Don’t be a baby,” Beau snapped when he jolted away from a fat little bumblebee.

“There aren’t bugs in the house, are there?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes, which he hoped to mean ‘of course not’.

The front porch was a wooden structure, painted white then further painted in mis-matched designs and colors. Various plants covered the railings and hung from the room, and there was a little table, a white wooden bench - also painted - and a single, oversized rocking chair.

“We painted those,” Beau said. “Caduceus had to tear down the old porch and rebuild, and Jester convinced him to let us paint all over it. Check this out!”

She led him to the bench and dragged him down to sit, then to look under it upside-down. There, painted neatly and lovingly under the bench’s seat, was a series of stylized dicks.

Fjord sighed as Beau cackled. Normally it might get a chuckle out of him, but he was too tired to be amused these days.

“Oh, c’mon you old man,” she said, leading him to the actual door. She pulled it open without a key.

“Is it always unlocked? Won’t people try to break in?”

“To a graveyard house?” she asked. “Honestly I’d like to see them try. You haven’t even seen--”

“Ah, Beauregard?” called a low, gentle voice from inside. “Welcome home.”

“Hey Caduceus,” she replied, wiping her feet on the entry mat - covered in a floral design - before stepping further inside. Fjord mimicked her movements.

The front entryway was probably larger than it seemed, with tall ceilings and a rectangular frame. But it was over-crowded with things. Plants everywhere, hanging and on window sills and standing at the edges of the room. There were plush rugs over stone flooring in muted, worn colors more likely due to age and use than style. There was, to the right, a door leading into another room with a curtain hanging down and a collection of plush, mis-matched chairs around a table. Slightly off center to the left were the stairs up to the actual rooms. To the left, a little shelf crammed full of books, endless plants, and was that a shrine?

“Oh, you brought a guest?”

Beau had stepped towards the left, where a tall figure was peering into hanging plants with a watering can dwarfed by his height.

“Yeah, Caduceus, this is Fjord. The friend we’ve mentioned. Fjord, this our landlord, Caduceus.”

Caduceus looked over and smiled, eyes a little droopy in that calm, might-be-a-stoner-but-might-also-just-look-that-way kinda way. He was a firbolg, a rare breed in this area these days, coated in a layer of gray fur, but with pink eyes, hair, and a neatly trimmed pink beard. He wore plain, loose clothing underneath a vibrantly teal, thin coat that stretched nearly to the floor, covered in pink branches and flowers and beetles. Through one ear looped a thick wooden spiral for an earring.

Caduceus made a face. “I don’t like that word, ‘landlord’. I prefer just being another neighbor. Hullo Mister Fjord.”

“Hello. It’s nice to meet you.” Fjord gave an awkward little nod towards the tall man.

“Right, well I wanted to ask if it’s cool if Fjord crashes here for a few days,” Beau said with no warning nor ceremony. Fjord twitched in discomfort. “Maybe a week.”

“I don’t want to impose,” Fjord insisted. “I do have a room--”

“Yeah, in a cultist house with your shitty whatever she is,” Beau snapped.

“Ah, Fjord,” Caduceus said, as if he was suddenly putting the pieces together. “It wouldn’t be any trouble at all.”

“I don’t have any money. I couldn’t pay.”

The firbolg smiled at him. “I didn’t ask for money. You’re a friend of everyone here, and they are my friends. Which, by extension, makes you a friend of mine as well. I wouldn’t turn away a friend who needs a little time away from things.”

Beau gave him a pointed look as if to say, “told you so!”

To Beau, Caduceus said, almost dreamily, “We still have that vacant room.”

“Molly’s old room,” Beau reminded Fjord. Molly, their wild and fabulous tiefling friend, had decided to transfer schools last semester. While it broke the heart of their friend group, he still visited, video chatted, and sent perfumed letters often.

“It’s not much, but there’s a bed and a dresser still. Good enough for a week or so.”

“I couldn’t accept such a generous offer,” Fjord told him.

“Fjord!” Beau exclaimed. “Let people help you!”

“It’s an entire room, something everyone else is paying for!”

“For like a week, Fjord! And it’s not like people are breaking down the door to live here!”

Fjord glanced at Caduceus, but the man looked unaffected by the comment. Either he was completely vacant, or he was very much in touch with the reality of his home.

“If it’s so important to you,” Caduceus drawled. “I could use some help around the house and the Grove for a few days. I’ve got some projects that have piled up. We could consider that your rent for the week?”

Beau stared holes into Fjord, hands splayed and extended as if to say, “come on!”

“That’s very kind of you, Caduceus,” Fjord said. “I...I suppose it would be a nice break.”

“Finally!” Beau exclaimed. She leapt over to the stairs, thudding up them and shouting, “Jes! We got Fjord for a week!”

“A week!” came a shout from Jester’s familiar voice.

Fjord sighed. Caduceus looked up the stairs smiling. “Such a lively bunch.”

Turning back to Fjord he said, “Let me get you your key.”

Caduceus had been right, the room wasn’t especially noteworthy. But it was clean, with a nice window that overlooked the Grove, including the largest tree there, and simple, sturdy furniture.

He didn’t have much to his name with him. Avantika and The Champions had taken it poorly when he texted the group chat that he was staying with a friend for the week, but they hadn’t completely flipped out. Still, he wasn’t going to risk going back to that house until he was going back for good. When Beau had grabbed him, they’d focused on taking the things he needed for school so as not to draw attention, and only the bare minimum in anything else.

He had $20 to his name for food for the week, maybe longer. He had two day’s worth of clothes, so he’d be doing laundry every day. Maybe it’d be a good excuse to convince Caleb to let him clean his clothes as well. He somehow always got them covered in dirt and mystery stains. Chem majors.

Caduceus had left him with fresh sheets and linens, as well as a small potted plant. He rattled off instructions and odd musings, then promised it would survive almost anything as long as he watered it every few days and didn’t put it in direct sunlight.

Fjord sat on the edge of the bed, patchwork blankets neatly folded beside him, his duffle bag sitting by the door, and took a breath. There was a large mirror on top of the dresser that looked directly at him. He looked, well. He looked like shit.

His beard, never the full, lush thing he would have preferred, had grown in patchy and speckled with gray. That tiny sliver of gray he’d found at eighteen had expanded into a full-blown chunk at the front of his scalp. His hair was too long, disheveled at this length. His eyes looked sunken and almost bloodshot. He was frowning deeply, his default expression. He sat slumped and tired and worn. Worse than shit, he looked half-dead.

Maybe he could just ask Caduceus to dig him a hole.

He shouldn’t have joked about that, because that was exactly what Caduceus asked him to do pre-dawn the next morning. Luckily, Caduceus was an early riser, which was the only time Fjord had reliably free before classes and work.

“Do I want to know what these holes are for?” Fjord asked gingerly, looking at the shovel handed to him.

“I would think it’s fairly obvious,” Caduceus said, a little perplexed and a little amused in one.

Fjord cleared his throat. “Right. Okay.”

Caduceus worked right alongside him, digging, then breaking from that to stay nearby. He cared for plants, cleaned gravestones, laid out flowers, and prepared these new gravesites. He worked in relative silence, occasionally humming some song or another seemingly without realizing. Sometimes Fjord heard him murmuring to the plants. He’d heard of people talking to plants, and, frankly, it would have been weirder if Caduceus didn’t.

Fjord finished his work as the sun rose, a little worn and sweaty, covered in dirt, but good. He hadn’t been exercising with Beau as much these past few months. Or the past year, really. He was just too damned tired these days. But it felt good to do something physical again.

“Ah, got that done much faster than I expected,” Caduceus said happily. He looked over the grave sites, then nodded in approval. “You did an excellent job. You’re stronger than you seem.”

“I spent a few years working on ships,” Fjord said. The reason he had started college later than most.

“On the ocean?”

“Yeah,” Fjord said.

“That sounds nice,” he said dreamily. “Never been to the ocean.”

“Really?” Fjord asked. “You, uh, you might like it. Not as many plants, at least not that you can easily see. But it’s beautiful. Calming.”

Caduceus leaned on his own shovel like a staff, closing his eyes for a moment as though he were picturing it. “Maybe I’ll go someday.”

They were quiet for a moment, seeing the sun cresting the earth, casting light over the graveyard.

“Well, that’s enough for today, I think,” Caduceus said. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

Fjord followed him back to the house, bounding up the stairs to shower and change into his only other set of clothes. The biggest downside to the Xhorhas was that it only boasted two bathrooms to share between the residents, two and one more on the third floor for Caduceus. At least each shower was beyond its own door from the sink and toilet, which was something.

Not many were up at this hour, so he had an entire bathroom to himself. He showered briskly, then took a moment to shave. His hair would have to wait. Maybe Yasha would cut it? She cut Caleb’s hair that one time. Or was that his beard? He couldn’t remember anything besides it involving a sword.

He passed Nott on the way downstairs, who griped at him for ‘taking forever’. Nott was the only non-student in the house, besides maybe Caduceus. She was staying there to save money while she waited for her husband and her son to be able to move to the area, where they hoped to get a proper house for themselves. And maybe Caleb.

When he reached downstairs, noting he still had time for breakfast and maybe some studying before class, he found an odd sight. Carefully arranged in the limited space of the front entry were two yoga mats, on which Caduceus and Beau were finishing up their yoga session.

“Oh, hey Fjord,” Beau said from a twisted stance that was certainly not human.

Caduceus released a sigh as he unfurled himself. “Mister Fjord, we’re about to do some meditating if you’d like to join us.”

Beau’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yeah. Caduceus does the best guided meditations, man.”

“I’m not really one for meditation,” he said.

Before Beau could complain, Caduceus nodded, closing his eyes calmly and saying, “That’s quite alright. If you ever need to calm your mind or find some peace, you’re welcome to join us.”

“Uh, thank you,” Fjord said.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and quickly left the house and The Blooming Grove. If he swung by the cafe he worked at, he might be able to get some day-old pastries or breakfast sandwiches for a discount. Of course, only The Champions worked there, so he’d be at a risk.

He was scheduled for this afternoon, and he had to work. But he wasn’t ready to face any of them.

Might be better just to skip breakfast.

#my writing #critical role #fjorclay #fjorclayweek2020 #fjorclay week 2020 #teahaw #multi-chapter #modern au

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mixed-imagination · 5 years

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Holiday Pranks (Part 1) - John Ambrose x reader

Summary: You and your boyfriend, John Ambrose McClaren, play pranks on each other during a party held at Belleview, a senior citizen center.

Warnings: nothing really, just a lot of FLUFF --- This one-shot is based on the books. There are no spoilers, so don’t worry. However, if you’ve only seen the movie and are confused - Stormy and Alicia are senior residents at Belleview, where Lara Jean volunteers. Stormy is John Ambrose’s great-grandmother. That’s all you need to know.

Word Count: 2,400+

Notes: MERRY CHRYSLER. THIS IS MY GIFT TO YALL! Thanks for being patient and supportive. I love you guys <3

Listen to this beautiful cover while you read! It inspired this fic :3 ~ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4mgUh60_ea8

“Last Christmas, I gave you my heart But the very next day you gave it away! This year, to save me from tears I'll give it to someone special!”

Busy pinning your hair back with a bobby pin, you lean forward and take a closer look at yourself in the mirror Stormy had been holding up for you. You tsk your tongue in slight disappointment in your appearance.

The whole day you and Lara Jean had been running around Belleview trying to set things in order for the Christmas party that is to start in an hour. You had been busy decorating, baking, and setting up bingo games for the elderly residents. All the while you also had been preparing the cute pranks you had planned to pull on John.

For the past two weeks, you and your boyfriend, John Ambrose, have been in this mischievous prank phase. It started when you binge-watched BFvsGF prank videos together. Ever since then, you’ve been pulling pranks on each other in school and at each other’s houses. In class, you had taped a paper that said “slap my ass” onto John’s back and tied his shoelaces together. He also got you at your house when you had asked him to fetch you a yogurt cup. He fooled you by replacing your vanilla yogurt with mayonnaise - a condiment you unequivocally despise. Thankfully, the small goofs weren’t serious; no one ever got hurt.

Tonight, you have a few tricks up your sleeve for John. You had hoped that because it is party day, he had assumed that pranks are off-limits, meaning he would never suspect a thing. However, you know John is a clever boy.

“Come on, sweetheart, you look fine,” Alicia nodded in reassurance.

Stormy flips the hand mirror around. “Hey! I’m not done yet, Stormy,” you protest.

She fluffs her hair and makes a kissy face at her reflection, “Well, I think she looks haggard,” she shrugs.

“Stormy!” you cross your arms.

You didn’t have time to curl your hair or properly apply makeup. You didn’t even have a good outfit for the party. All you had on is this morning’s eyeliner and mascara; you felt slobbish in your stripped, loose t-shirt dress.

“Stormy, don’t say that. Y/N is beautiful even in her pajamas,” Alicia says.

You huff in frustration, “Thanks, Alicia.” You twist your torso and look around the common area, “Hey, LJ did you finish setting up your gingersnaps?” you call out, knowing she also had been preparing.

At the corner of your eye, you see her peek her head out of the kitchen doorway to spot you before popping out in her dress, “Uh, yes!”

“Wowza! Lara Jean, baby! Forget what I said about you being a girl who gets her heart broken. You are turning into a heartbreaker. You look like Santa’s little helper.” Stormy winks and she laughs.

“Oh stop it, Stormy! Lara Jean will never turn into the likes of you,” Alicia rolls her eyes.

“Excuse me?”

While Stormy and Alicia get into another petty argument, you give a once-over to Lara Jean’s outfit. You didn’t even know she had changed attire already; she looks so pretty with her red lip and her hair down, curled and pinned behind her ears. She’s wearing a velvet, red tank top and skirt with white, faux fur lining the edges, complete with a Santa hat and knee-high boots.

A pang of envy began to grow in the pit of your stomach, obviously set off by Lara Jean’s cute outfit.

You drop your head back and groan, “Ugh, LJ, you look so good!”

“Oh thanks, Y/N. Peter’s wearing a matching costume.”

“That’s adorable. Hashtag couple goals. I look like a bum though. I’m jealous.”

Stormy turns away from Alicia, “Darling, why don’t you just wear one of my dresses?”

One of Stormy’s dresses? You knew Stormy’s clothes were a tad bit too spicy for someone her age. You’ve seen her in loose, exotic, scandalous pieces of clothing; you’re sure it’s not your style. You bite the insides of your cheeks, “Uhh... Are you sure it’s going to fit me?”

“Of course! It’s one of my favorite dresses,” she boasts, “Back in my day, I used to wear it to the Drive-In on Friday nights.”

You let out a breath of relief, “Oh thank god, you were talking about your old dress.”

Stormy nods with pride, but then quickly shakes her head in realization, “You cheeky girl! Last year I loaned Lara Jean my old nightgown.” She crosses her arms in an offense, and you laugh.

LJ snickers as well, “She’s right. It was quite racy.”

You sigh, thinking it over. You look down at your t-shirt dress. It is wrinkled at the edges and has some spots of caramel and flower on it. It wouldn’t be so bad wearing one of Stormy’s dresses, right? You trust her fashion sense. If it was her favorite, it means it has to be at least better than what you’re wearing now. You shrug, “Okay, fine. I’ll try on the dress.”

“Yes!” Stormy and Lara Jean shriek.

~~~

Fifteen minutes later, you are looking at another mirror, except this mirror is in Stormy’s room; it is body length. You graze your thumb over the beaded designs. You smile at your appearance and nod in approval.

“Not bad Stormy,” you twirl. The dress was outdated, you admit. It is a little itchy at the neck hole, but you could live with it. It didn’t fit at first, also, until Lara Jean used her magic skills and used safety pins, so it could hug your body right.

“You look SMOKIN’!” Stormy cackles, “You almost look better than I did when I was seventeen.” The corners of your mouth curve up, and you roll your eyes, “Wow, thanks.”

“No, I’m serious! This dress is a stunner.”

LJ agrees, “You look sultry in that little back dress.”

“It was my lucky charm, you know? I magnetized all the boys. I bet my Johnny is going to love you in it!” Stormy squeals.

“You’re definitely going to distract John, for sure, Y/N. It might be an advantage for your pranks.”

You smirk, “You’re right.”

~~~

The lighting is dimmed down in the common area. Many of the elderly are still pilling in, while some who have already settled in are mingling. The party has only just started, but you can’t wait for John to fall for your schemes. You had seen him zipping around the center - clearly setting up his own pranks, or else why would he be anywhere but with you? Because it is a holiday party, you had only planned to trick him twice. Hopefully, he goes easy on you.

You are silently standing behind a food table, waiting to serve anyone. You are sneaking some Oreos into your mouth when John finally makes an appearance to you. He’s wearing a gray suit with a baby blue button down. He slides behind the table and places his hand on your side, pulling you into him.

“John!” you giggle.

“Hello, m’lady!” he plants a wet kiss on your cheek before looking down at your apparel. His eyebrows raise, “Wowza.”

“Wowza”? He really is Stormy’s great-grandson. Such a dork.

“Do you like the dress?” you beam up at him.

He nods and kisses your cheek again, “You look adorable, Y/N. So cute.”

You pout as you take a bite out of your Oreo, “Just cute?”

“You look foxy,” he chuckles and moves a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes roll.

“What?” John shrugs and slowly leans his head down to your ear. You can feel his breath blow against your cheek. It makes you shiver. “That’s,” his voice is low and raspy, “That’s my dorky way of saying you look sexy.”

The inside of your stomach flips at his unexpected boldness. You bite your lip. John suddenly cracks a smile at your innocent reaction, “Too cute.” He kisses your cheek again before pulling back.

You huff in frustration, wiping your sweaty palms on the tablecloth. John knows you’re putty in his hands; He’s going to pay for teasing you like that.

“Did you know it’s your great-grandmother’s?” you give him a small smile.

John’s eyebrows raise. He opens his mouth but quickly closes it. He changes the subject, “So what’s in store for tonight? Ballroom dancing? Karaoke? Bingo?”

You laugh, “I think all of those things. You know how Lara Jean is - she planned the whole thing. She’s the boss. I just do what she asks.” You both look over to Lara Jean. She’s handing everyone holiday mint candy, while Peter, dressed in a Santa suit and beard, is goofing off and dancing with Alicia.

This is the moment - the perfect opportunity to catch John off guard and swindle him with your first antic. Karma’s a bitch, Johnny.

“Did you know she baked all the desserts for tonight?” you flutter your lashes up at him.

Along with the store-bought snacks, there were cinnamon buns, gingersnaps, molasses cookies, banana cake, and more - all made by LJ. John looks down and once-overs the many delicious desserts displayed on the table. “I have no doubt that she did.” He eyes the caramel apples.

You grin. Gotchya, bitch. The fish is hooked. It was actually you who had made the caramel apples. Caramel apples are one of John’s favorite sweet treats, so you had to make a special batch made especially for him. Little did he know, the one you’ll be giving him is different.

“Kitty helped LJ make the caramel apples,” you fib, grabbing two sticks of the sticky dessert - one for you and one for John.

John shakes his head, “Man, I miss that small fry. He automatically takes hold of the skewer, too nostalgic to notice. “She’s a stubborn one, that kid. We should hang out at the Covey house over winter break and visit her.”

You bat your lashes at him, taking a small bite out of your apple, “Mhmm!” you nod, swallowing.

As John instinctively brings the treat to his mouth, you watch him closely. His teeth pierce into it, producing a loud crunch noise. His eyes immediately dash to yours.

Gottem, bitch.

You smirk and put your apple down, preparing your plate of Oreos for your next scheme. John slowly moves the “treat” away from him. His mouth is hanging ajar - the bite he took still sitting in his mouth.

His eyebrows rise; his eyes look bored with a sinister twang hidden behind it. “Y/N, what is this?” his words are slurred by the food in his mouth.

You snort, “Ew! John! Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Don’t talk with my mouth full?” his voice raises, sloppily spitting food bits.

You laugh and shield yourself with your arms up, “John, you’re disgusting.”

John swipes a napkin and spits into it, wiping all evidence away, “Oh, Y/N, I have to admit - that was clever.” The corners of his mouth curve upwards as he takes a step closer, “But you’re so going to get it tonight.” His subtle threat makes your stomach churn.

“But really what the heck was that? Because I know that was not an apple,” his face contorts as he licks his teeth.

“It was an onion, silly” you giggle.

“An onion?” his arm snakes around your waist. “You gave me an onion dipped in caramel? Have you tried it?”

As he moves in closer, you can smell the faint scent of onion coming from his mouth. Your face contorts, “No of course not.”

Suddenly, in one quick movement, John’s face darts towards yours, “Well it is just disgusting!” he smirks, aiming to kiss your mouth.

“Gross!” you laugh, leaning back and pushing his face away from yours.

“Smell it, Y/N! Smell the onion!” he purses his lips, showering your cheeks with pecks.

You both giggle and laugh at his cute acts of affection. This is why you love John. Although he comes off as a smart, confident guy-that-every-girl-has-a crush-on, if you peel that back and actually get to know him, he’s really just a down-to-earth, goofy teenage boy. You are so thankful to call him yours. Knowing and seeing the real him is such a privilege to you.

“But seriously though,” his face twists, “I can’t get this oniony taste out of my mouth. Yucky.”

“Do you want me to pour you some water?” you offer.

He gives you a look, “No thanks. You’d probably replace my water with urine or something.”

You roll your eyes, “That’s just nasty. I would never go that far.”

“Yea, we’ll see. At this rate, who knows what you’re capable of?” he shrugs and smirks. You notice his eyes flash at your plate of Oreos.

GOTTEM AGAIN, bitch.

John has spotted the Oreos. You cheer internally, wishing that he’ll fall for the same trick twice. He’d never expect one prank after another. Also, he’s seen you munching on Oreos this whole time. You’re sure he has no inklings towards them.

He picks up one of your Oreos, “You know what?”

“Hey! That’s mine. Give it back,” you feign annoyance.

He shakes his head, “Nope! This is mine now. It’s what you get for catfishing me with an onion,” he pops the whole cookie into his mouth.

Yes! Mission accomplished. The fish has been reeled in.

Again, John’s face deadpans at the strange taste of his Oreo. He immediately grabs his napkin and spits.

You hop in success, “HA! I got you good McClaren! You’re not the only one who can put mayonnaise into good use.” You had prepared a nasty batch of Oreos with the classic cream replaced with a layer of mayo.

He turns to you; his lips slowly form into a dangerous smirk, “Another prank, Y/N? Wow.”

The look in John’s eyes playfully screams revenge. You know he’s a big tease, but you’d never seen him get so flirtatiously mischievous. You liked it.

John leans down achingly slow, making your insides flip. He kisses your cheek lightly before bringing them to your ear once again. He whispers - the blow of his voice on your neck giving you goosebumps, “You’re so gonna get it, Y/N. Game on.”

~~~

And that’s part one! I hoped you liked it! Please send in some feedback and more requests! :3 Also, my tag list is open! I just love TATBILB!

ples enjoy this goofy picture of Madeline Arthur, who plays Chris, and Jordan Burtchett who played (and should still be playing <_<) the role of John Ambrose McClaren. Ain’t he handsome?

229 notes · View notes

anon-luv · 6 years

Text

I’ll Never Be Her(4) [Jimin X Reader]

Pairing: Jimin X Reader

Genre: Angst/ Romance

Summary: You loved him with all your heart, but he could only give you half of his.

Jimin was the love of your life, your night in shining armor when she wasn’t around.

She was his ex girlfriend, his first love, actually she was his many firsts and she kept coming back.

He had warned you she was his weakness, but you didn’t listen, because to you having him even if it was only partially was better than not having him at all.

At least for now.

Rated M: Sexual Scenes and Languages that might not be appropriate for all ages.

Word Count: 4.1K+

Author’s Note: Sorry it took so long. I have a new job and I am going through orientation and that takes a lot of my time. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. I overthought the world like I always do, but I am hoping it is of your satisfaction.

You know how much I love receiving your comments/messages/asks/reblog tags

I look through every single one of them :D and I will try my hardest to respond to them as well.

Let me know what you all think. There is only one chapter left and an epilogue ;) are you all excited??

I am so nervous to post this haha. LEAVE SOME LOVE!

I want to thank all my readers and mutuals for their support.

Specially @b-angst-tan who has been a lovely editor/ beta love her!!

The dim lighting in the narrow halls along with the stale smell of cleaning supplies had you on the verge of waddling back to the safety of Jin’s car. The squeaking of your shoes echoed loudly on the barely inhabited waiting area. The dull sickly shades of green intimidating the living daylights out of you, as you made your way towards the nurse station and registration area slowly, wary of tripping and eating shit, which to be honest with your luck nowadays it wouldn’t come as a surprise.

“Hello, Darling! May I help you with something? You look a little lost there.” An older looking lady with peppered hair said giving you a small smile.

You nodded as you rubbed your belly, a weird feeling erupting from the pit of your stomach, making it feel a bit sensitive and stiff as if you were flexing. You took a deep breath and quietly cursed your body’s onset timing for what you had concluded were Braxton Hicks. You smiled back ignoring the weird sensation, “Yes, I came to visit a patient.”

“That’s great. What is the patient’s name? Are you a family member?” she asked as she started clicking away on her computer.

“No...I am not...actually…” You started only to be interrupted by a familiar, deep honey-like voice.

“Y/N?” a familiar deep voice questioned as he came into full view.

He looked different than last time you saw him. His usually bleach blond locks were now dyed a dark brown that matched perfectly with his brown orbs. He smiled at you, the familiar gummy smile that you had grown to love and now associate to a brotherly figure.

“Yoongi!” You said smiling widely at him, the sorrow and pain associated with Jimin’s abandonment forgotten for a brief moment as you were engulfed in a warm hug, “I’ve missed you so much. It’s been way too long!”

He chuckled as he ruffled your hair, “Yeah I know. Last time I saw you, you didn’t look like you were hiding a basketball underneath your shirt. I am wondering how you haven’t fallen face first with that cute belly of yours. You are definitely glowing and look absolutely stunning, Stef was right.”

Your face paled at the mention of her name as Yoongi’s bright smile turned into a grimace.

“Yeah, Stephany….How is she doing??” You asked trying to sound unaffected as the light tremble of your voice gave you away.

Yoongi reached for your hand, squeezing it reassuringly, “She is doing good..actually, I was going to ask you.. is it okay if we have a coffee and maybe talk??”

You nodded, “Milk and cookies and you have a deal.” Another awkward cramp shot up your back making you squirm in place, “Is there a cafeteria or something. My pregnant butt needs to sit.”

Yoongi nods happily, “Yeah, it is right over there, let me help you with that.” He said taking the damp umbrella and purse from your hands.

You waddled next to him as he glanced at you every once in a while with a small smile on his face.

You plopped down happily at the first table you found, not even giving Yoongi the opportunity to seek out another one.

“I’ll be back,” he said as he walked towards the small serving area. The cafeteria was for the most part empty other than the bored looking teenage cashier who you were more than sure was more focused on the pink cell phone on her hand than her surroundings.

Yoongi placed a warm cup of milk and a bag of chocolate chip cookies on the table, displaying it as a beautiful buffet for your weak for munchies ass.

“So what do you want to talk about?” You asked as you eagerly opened the bag in front of you and plopped a whole cookie in your mouth successfully.

“I want to say I am sorry.” He said no longer looking at you, but instead focusing at the gray, dull coffee mug in front of him as if it was an intricate piece of art, “I called Jimin…..I told him to come.”

The hunger that had been pestering you since you had left your apartment, evaporated into nothingness with that lone sentence. Your belly contracted a bit more painful than usual as you wiggled yourself repositioning to hopefully soothe the dull tightness.

“How?” You asked quietly as you stared up into his eyes, your own already tearing up from all the emotions you had bottled up all these years, “How..how..how can you do it? How do you just sit and watch, as you watch her walk away into someone else’s arms, arms that aren’t yours? How do you go to sleep and wake up without knowing if she is going to be there in the morning? How do you numb yourself knowing that you might not be her first priority? How…..do you make it stop hurting? Does it hurt you as much as it hurts me? Cause….fuck ….excuse my french…..The only thing that comes to mind is ‘that fucking bitch’ when I hear her name coming from his lips. And it sucks because I know Stephany. I have grown close to her in ways I probably shouldn’t have. I love and care for her as well, but I am not okay with it..especially when it comes to Jimin’s love. I can’t stand watching her dance around boundaries she shouldn’t be crossing in the first place”

Yoongi ruffled his hair, the sadness in his eyes clearly noticeable, something you had never witnessed personally, “To be honest...I hate it....but at the same time….. I have come to realize that the only reason why I have put up with it in the first place is because I am fucking selfish.”

“Wait… How are you selfish? If anything Stephany is the selfish one. I don’t deserve this... You do not deserve this” you asked puzzled at his response.

“Look..” he said ruffling his hair nervously with one hand, “Stephany is my world. From the very first time I laid eyes on her, I knew she was the girl I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. We have gone through so many things together, and I was there to pick up every piece whenever she would fall apart in my arms. When we found out about Nataly she was ecstatic, everything was getting better and then…. As I held our little girl in my arms I noticed something was off. Stephany seemed fine for the first few weeks, until one day she locked herself for three days in her room with our child refusing to come out unless it was absolutely necessary. She wouldn’t eat, she would barely talk, and she rarely slept. She had become so absorbed in her own little world, that she panicked if I even got near Nataly.” Yoongi sighs, but continues explaining himself.

“Then one day I ran into Jimin, I had not seen him in a while, and after exchanging numbers I was on my merry way. Stephany deteriorated and I took her almost forcefully to the doctor. That is when she got diagnosed with Postpartum Depression. I reached out to various resources trying to figure out how to help the love of my life, and after several therapy sessions and group talks I found out that sometimes an outlet or maybe revisiting things that had made her happy in the past can help to break the wall she was building around herself. I remembered how much she talked about Jimin and the adventures they would have when they were young. And that is when I decided that maybe meeting up with him would be a good idea. I wrote down his information on a sticky note before work hoping she would find it since she refused to acknowledge me on her low days. Before I knew it she was gone... And then... she left Nataly at his door... and I knew I had fucked up. From then on she did it several times... She would run from me and go to him..but she always comes back and I much rather have that and know she is safe even if it is not with me than have her leave and never return...”

You wiped the tears away from your eyes as you saw Yoongi fall apart bit by bit till he was a sobbing mess, you reached out your hand to grasp his tightly, “Yoongi, I know... With me and Jimin... it is not the same but I have had to share too and it is not healthy Yoongi. I have excused this behavior for years now and now that it will not only affect me but my babies as well. I’ve come to realize that sometimes you have to set your foot down.”

“I love her... And she’s not well... I feel like it is my fault... I am so sorry (Y/n) I didn’t think it was going to get this bad. I love you and even though he can be an asshole at times, I love Jimin as well. You have been such a great help with Nataly and Stephany. I am so sorry I didn’t talk to you about this before. I was scared. I thought if I didn’t address the problem it would just disappear... and it just got bigger and bigger. I know about everything (Y/n)... The kiss they almost shared and every time she would invade both of your lives and I am so sorry. I am going to make this okay and be stronger for her. That is why I am taking her away. Once she gets better... Maybe we can try this friendship thing again... Maybe, if you don’t hate us too much. It was not Jimin, (Y/n) I was the one at fault… I should’ve told her not to go. I should’ve taken care of her better so she wouldn’t have to seek anyone else but me. I am so sorry. Jimin really does love you (Y/n), he was just helping Stephany….us out.”

You gave him a side smile as you wiped the tears from your face. “Sure... that sounds good. And don’t be silly... We are always going to be friends.” you said as you grasped his face in your hand and wiped a tear away... Now let’s stop crying and start eating. My kids need to grow.”

Yoongi shook his head disbelievingly as a choked up sob came out mixed with a laugh, “Thank you, you are honestly one of the most amazing and understanding people on the world. Love you.”

“Love you too, Yoongi.” You said as Yoongi grasped both your hands in his, “You can do this Yoongi. You take care of your girls.”

He gave a gummy smile, “Thank you (y/n), I will.” He said as he stole a cookie from your hand.

You scowled at him playfully, “That, though...I might not forgive.”

You walked the hallways alone. The voices and whispers around you made your growing anxiety click like a bomb waiting to explode as you searched the room number Yoongi had written on your hand. Yoongi had left you on your own to head back home and continue packing. You had assured him you would be fine over and over again before he relented and went on his way.

Your phone vibrated in your hand a notification popped up showing Jin’s name.

I hope everything is ok. I am still outside just in case you need me. I will be waiting for you.

Jin 4:05pm

I am okay Jin love. I should be out soon. Just saying bye.

(Y/n) 4:06

You placed the phone back in your pocket, and out of nowhere, a familiar laugh sounded through the halls. Your pace quickened as you finally met up with the number you had been searching for what it felt like forever.

Your feet traveled towards the door that was left slightly ajar.“Nataly, you know that pink isn’t my color!” You heard Jimin say dramatically, as you peeked in through the door quietly.“But the ponytails look great on you and I ran out of blue rubber bands!” Nataly replied as she leaned in placing a smooch on his cheek.

Your breath hitched as you took in the sight of Jimin kneeling on the floor, as Nataly sat on the edge of the bed doing his hair. Stephany sat on a bed with a wide grin on her face as her hand rested on Jimin’s. If a stranger would come in they would assume they were the happiest of families. The giggles inside the room were filled with pure happiness.

Stephany looked small in the medical bed, her usual full blond hair looked frizzy and unkept, her blue-eyed pools that could drown you were more of an icy gray, and her usually rosy cheeks looked gaunt and pale. Even in her current condition, she looked absolutely gorgeous, like a fairytale princess. Your stomach clenched again as you took an instinctive deep breath to soothe the uncomfortable pang.

A flashback of Yoongi’s voice resounded reminding you of how frail and delicate the woman you had believed was strong truly was.

Yoongi’s watery broken eyes staring straight at you flashed in your brain taking over your senses, “She took pills (Y/n), I got there just in time... But I almost lost her...”

Jimin stood up from his previous position and sat next to Stephany on the bed. She ran her small hand through his hair as he leaned into her warmth.

“You’re like a puppy Chimchim!” She said giggling as he stuck out his tongue playfully. Nataly quickly sat on his lap as she licked his cheek, “I wanna be a puppy too!”

You smiled at the scene unfolding as you rubbed your stomach that was once again cramping. You sighed sadly as you took a step back.

You couldn't do this. You didn’t want to interfere. They looked so happy and at peace. Maybe Stephany wasn’t the problem...maybe it had always been you.

Jimin leaned in to place a soft kiss on the crown of her forehead, the same kind you had felt every night you had spent in his arms as you crossed the threshold to dreamland. His soft plump lips blessing you with sweet dreams through the night.

You turned away from them and back to the door you had come from, throwing down the white towel...you had given up.

The rain poured relentlessly as you exited the building, camouflaging the tears that were falling down your face. You grasped your purse tightly against you as if it was a stress ball, turning your knuckles white.

It hurt, it really pained you to leave the man you loved behind. You were weak, you couldn’t do this.

Stephany didn’t have to leave. You did. They needed him. He had known this, but your selfish self had been reading way too much into it.

Nataly’s glimmering eyes as she stared at Jimin as if he was Superman himself.

You could stay…. You could bare it through at his side until Stephany got better… but when would that be?? Would it be a year from now??? Maybe 10???

The ongoing battle in your mind had caused another onset of cramps as you slowed down in place.

“Fuck...” you said out loud, as the cramp got more intense.

“(Y/n), are you okay??” You heard Jin say as he stood in front of you with an umbrella that was now covering you. The water was dripping against his forehead as he shivered.

“Seokjin, what are you doing outside?” You said trying to get closer to him so the umbrella could cover him as well.

“I told you I would be waiting for you silly.” He replied rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, I know dork, but what are you doing out in the rain??” You asked as you brushed away a raindrop on his eyelash.

He gave you a nervous smile, “I was debating whether to go in or not… You were taking too long and I was starting to get worried.”

You shook your head with a small smile, “Jin, I really don’t deserve your ass!”

“You don’t, but I am here so.... how about we go back to the car? It’s starting to get chilly.” Jin replied as he wrapped a strong arm around you, “You are okay though, right?”

“Yes I am fine”

You lied.

There was something about Jimin’s eyes that had always captivated you. They were brown, the color of an old oak tree you would climb during the hot summers of your youth. Home, that is what his eyes would take you back to, in them you drowned and reminisced of the times where your biggest worry was learning how to tie your shoelaces.

His warmth was addicting. Being near him had always put you at ease no matter the situation. The way his strong arms would wrap around your waist pulling you into a tight embrace, flesh against flesh. A feeling that would borderline trigger your claustrophobia had become your favorite sensation.

The way his fringe would fall against his brow as he leaned down to capture your lips as he thrusted into you throughout the night, making you come undone over and over again, the both of you becoming one, would be an image embedded in your memory. A treasure you would admire from afar, too precious to touch.

The smile that had made you fall in love with him was not only reflected on his mouth, but also within the crinkles that appeared right beside his eyes. The contagious happiness that spread all over your body with every giggle and smirk that was thrown your way… There was nothing that would ever compare to that.

Just like in tug a war, as soon as the rope commences to burn along your skin and a light prickle of a sting awakens the trigger to drop it and give up, sometimes in life you must learn to let go.

Stubborn Love had held your hand and walked you all along the way, only stopping where you were at now, but your overly conscious insecurities and consistent state of neediness and selfishness could no longer bear the weight that had fallen upon your relationship from the very beginning, as the weak foundation it had been built on was hanging on by a thread, threatening to collapse at any moment.

Jin’s fingers tapped softly yet relentlessly along the steering wheel. You could tell he was anxious to question what had happened, but he knew better. Jin knew you. You sneaked glances his way as he focused on the road. Jin was handsome and strong, he had always been your shoulder to cry on and your personal diary; the only one who truly knew how you felt about Jimin and Stephany’s relationship. There were times where you wondered why hadn’t you fallen in love with him instead. From the beginning, you had never had doubts about your friendship or his loyalty. He knew your likes, dislikes, and where to set his boundaries.

The car stopped suddenly breaking you away from the thoughts that had been clouding your mind. He took a glance your way, catching your eyes with his brown ones. He tilted his head as he leaned in to wipe a tear that had been trailing along your cheek. You laid your hand against his letting it rest on your cheek. Your lips kissed the sensitive skin of his wrist as more tears traveled down your face.

“(Y/N)”, he whispered as his own voice was wavering slightly with emotions. You looked up to meet his eyes and you noticed they now looked pink and swollen, “I’m sorry…. I am really sorry about everything. I am sorry I pushed you his way. I didn’t know. I should’ve…”

You shook your head as you let go of his hand and it fell against your lap, “You have nothing to be sorry about Jin. You have been nothing less than wonder…ful. Sorry, I am having those fake contractions or whatever….they’re just uncomfortable.” You said, rubbing your belly.

“Let’s get you to bed.” He replied as he got out of the car quickly and ran to your side to help you out. You walked next to him as he held your hand all the way to your shared apartment with Jimin. You paused every once in a while to rub the cramp out of your belly.

The place felt cold and empty as you walked inside, the framed pictures taking you back to a happy place for a few seconds before reality came crashing down once again.

“(Y/N), I think you should lay down…. I’m starting to get worried about those cramps you are having.” Jin said as he took off his wet jacket. The rain had done a number on him as he made sure to cover you entirely with the umbrella leaving no room for himself.

You walked up to him and wrapped your arms around him tightly giving no fucks about the cold rainwater that was now soaking through your shirt, “Thank you Jin. Thank you so much. You deserve the world… scratch that, you deserve the whole fucking galaxy at this point.”

Jin chuckled lightly as he returned the hug and ran a hand through your hair. You felt a warm kiss against your head that had you looking up at his tall frame. He was close, so close to your now blushing face. His warm peppermint breath fanning against your skin. At this distance, you could make out every single eyelash, and can now perfectly memorize the pink that laid upon his plush lips.

“(Y/N),” he whispered softly enough to have you wondering if he had truly said something or it had just been a figment of your imagination.

You hummed questioningly not backing away.

“You are my galaxy,” he whispered as he leaned down to kiss your forehead quickly about to back away from you as to not invade your personal space. Before he could take a step back your hands reached out to grasp his collar tightly.

His pupils dilated with mixed emotions you had never been able to decipher before, but now were as clear as day.

A second. That is all it took for you to completely erase every thought, memory, and guilt. That one second is all it took for you to fuse your lips against Jin’s blurring out the world. His lips were sweet and warm. They felt safe. They felt like they could be home. He responded almost automatically holding you closer than before, but then as you felt him ask for entrance Jimin’s face popped into your mind. The way Jimin’s hands held your face as he deepened his kisses as his thumb caressed the back of your ear soothingly as opposed to Jin’s, that were holding on to your sides with trembling fingers, wary that you would push him away. Jimin nibbled on your bottom lip softly whenever he would ask for entrance causing your core to explode with heat that could overpower a volcano anyday. Jin was careful and soft, licking your bottom lip before you allowed him to take over. Jimin was rough and passionate. Jin was soft and careful. Jimin was dangerous and unpredictable. Jin was safe and cautious.

Jimin…..

A warm liquid traveled along your leg. At first, you thought it was the rainwater dripping from Jin’s soaked clothes, but the drip turned into a continuous leak and the contrast from the cold water falling from his hair to your face was quite obvious.

Jin backed away before you could react. His face went into panic mode as he looked down, the clear evidence of the unknown liquid all over the floor and his pants.

“Did I make you pee yourself??” He asked in a small, confused voice.

You remained quiet and stunned as you looked at your belly.

Jin caught onto your line of sight staring with wide eyes and open mouth gaping at your belly.

Frightened, you stared up at him, “Jin, I think my water broke...”

Before you could react Jin had already picked you up in his arms cradling you easily against his body. Your instincts kicked in as you kept in mind the birthing classes you had forcefully attended.

“Wait, what the hell are you doing??? You know I can walk right?? Just go get the two diaper bags next to my bed and let’s go to the hospital. Everything is going to be okay. Look at me.” You said grasping his face in your hands as soon as he set you back on your feet. Jin’s face was red and you could tell he was borderline hyperventilating. “I can’t have you pass out on me, so follow along to my breathing pattern…. In …...out…….In ….Out. Better??” you asked as he nodded quickly, “Okay, it’s time to go.”

#kreativewritersnet #kkreationsnet #networkbangtan #kpopwonderlandtag #bts angst #bts romance #jimin fanfic #jimin scenario #jimin angst #jimin romance #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jimin x reader #jimin x you #seokjin scenarios #seokjin fanfic #seokjin angst #jimin series

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amor-fati-momento-mori · 6 years

Text

Afternoon Delight

A/N:This is my first time ever posting something like this. It’s kinda helpful right now cause I’m going through some weird things so enjoy.

The sky was a gorgeous purple color as the sun had finally faded beneath the skyline. It cloaked you a calming shadow as you fiddled with the key to the boy’s house. Well, your house, your mind corrected you. You and Grayson had been dating for over two years now. He thought it still might have been too soon but was too excited at the idea not to ask you to move in with him. Ethan was totally on board as well and you had been living there now for a little under two months. It still felt weird calling it your own, not because the boys weren’t welcoming but because for so long it was their place and you had your place. Now it was all one happy family, well most of the time. No family is always happy, but you know how to work it out.

Getting the door open, you slid in before relocking it. You shift your purse off you shoulder while you look around. The house is pretty dim and quiet, which is very unusual. Given the time it wasn’t surprising to assume that Ethan had holed himself up playing fortnite in his room, plus you saw both cars were here. You thought Gray may have been working out again since he wasn’t cooking some odd late dinner concoction. Either way, it was time for comfy clothes, which really meant one of Grayson’s shirts and no pants.

You contemplated getting a bowl of ice cream as a nice end of day treat while you walked to your and Grayson’s room. Your mind also wandered to what show to fall asleep too before your thoughts were cut off by what was inside the room.

It’s clearly Gray sitting at his desk chair but the mood of the room is something different, something new. You guys have played before but this was almost surprising in the manner he was doing it. The only light in the room was from the ones around the bed which were currently locked on red, which only made your heart beat a little bit faster knowing its connotation. At this point he has now turned in his chair, still sitting but facing you. Still not saying anything, he looks you up and down and licks his lips while you stand there confused and intrigued. Finally, he stands and you get to see all of him. He knew exactly what he was doing wearing the most sinful black button up. It hugged every single one of his muscles and made him look even broader if that was possible. What made your breath catch even more was the fact that he wasn’t wearing his relaxing shorts or even a part of well fit jeans, but also matching dress pants. The button up was tucked into the pants that made you wonder how he even got them on, equated to you trying to get on your skinny jeans. They modeled his powerful thighs, reminded you just how much taller he was then you as well as gloriously added to captivating his ass already was. Your eyes also caught the glint of the Gucci belt buckle.

No words had still passed the air between the two of you.

You swallowed tightly as he walked towards, clearly methodical even if you had idea what the reasoning. As he slinked behind you, you caught the scent of his cologne and couldn’t help but close your eyes. A deep musky wood scent; it reminded you of the times you spent with your nose pressed to the column of his neck both in times of sweet slumber and the sticky sweat heat of the moment. Against your back you felt his body heat hover near you, not quite touching you but enough to know he was there. Suddenly you jolted unintentional as his fingers skimmed your bare shoulder. First on one side, then the other until both of his hands were playing with yours. He finally pulled you back against his chest while his nose nestled in your hair. Now fully envelopes in his heat and scent, eyes still not opening, your head tilted against its own accord so you could feel trace puff of his breathe.

Grayson trailed his fingertips again around the top of your thighs, playing with the hem of your dress before tightly grabbing your waist, not enough to hurt but to feel that he was in control here and you weren’t given a choice in the matter

“Did you have fun?” Grayson asked, he had leaned further down so he was pressing light kisses against the shell of your ear.

“Mmm” You said with a nod to try and give a full answer.

Needless to say, he was a bit distracting. He noticed this and smiled against your skin. Part of you wanted to smack it off his face not wanting to give the satisfaction but the light heat that had made you start to shift make and forth on your legs said otherwise.

“I’m glad, but I’m happy you’re back. I think we should play a game.” Grayson told you.

You let your eyes flutter open, looking up at the side to meet his eyes. You didn’t need to ask where this was going, his blown pupils, still gorgeous but dark with desire hit you like a punch in the gut with lust. He was still waiting for you to respond, so you licked your lips and answered.

“What kind of game?” You tease back, curious to what he will say.

Grayson moved so you couldn’t see him either more without straining your neck but you felt one of his hands move so one arm was wrapped around your waist tugging you even tighter against his body. His other free hand trailed slowly down the front of your thighs until he lifted up the end of your dress and gasped feeling two of his fingers go as slow as possible, little fucker you thought, starting from the back where you knew there had to be wet patch going all the way up to rest on finger on each side of your clit.

“The game where you be a good baby girl and listen to what Daddy says. “Grayson kissed down the back of your neck, gently pushing your hair to the side as he went. “Can you do that baby girl?”

“Yes, Daddy” You responded quicker than you’d like, but you knew soon you would be extremely past the point of shame when it came to your boyfriend and the things he could do.

“Let’s start by taking this off...”

Grayson trailed off as he slowly slipped the right strap of your dress down your shoulder until it fell slack on your elbow. He did the same with the other side until it was your job to the skid then off the rest of the way, this caused the whole dress to fall to the ground. The air went straight to your nipples as you choose to wear the dress without a bra, something Gray knew and was probably anticipating. Now you were left in only your simple black thong.

“I think someone else was waiting for this too” Grayson commented, his large hand now pressed flat against your stomach, caressing right underneath your breasts.

“I think you are just always horny”

“And I thought you wanted to play the game but it seems you already forgot the rules. Daddy doesn’t want to hear any sass from his baby girl tonight, alright?”

“It’s not sass if it’s the truth.” You whisper, knowing he was still going to hear it.

Grayson shook his head and let out a huff.

“If that’s how you want this to go princess.”

Grayson quickly spun you around so your chest was now flush with his, you had no time to think before he shoved the two of you to the bed and onto it. He trapped you between his arms, his hands on either side of your head, nose resting inches from yours. Your eyes darted across his face trying to ignore that your wetness was no longer going to be a secret.

Grayson stayed there, planted above you, eyes locked in an intense state doing nothing. He knew this would drive you crazier than going in for it. Laying there wondering when he was going to make his move. Normally looking into his eyes were one of your favorite things but right now you wanted nothing more than to be able to look away but this wasn’t possible while you were still quivering with anticipation about what was next.

After what felt like years, Grayson kissed right at the base of your neck, letting his tongue dip into the crevice before trailing down between your breasts. Little nips and light kisses were left in its path as he continued downward. Taking time to cover every inch of your stomach before finally reaching the one area you really wanted him.

“Tell me, baby girl, does anyone else get you this wet?” He asked while fingering with your panty line, teasing you with attempted satisfaction.

“No.” You weakly moaned out, not able to think right now.

“You don’t seem too sure about that. Daddy needs to know that his baby girl understands that he is the only one who can make you this wet because it’s my pussy.”

You nodded fiercely in agreement, forgoing using words all together as your legs couldn’t help but shift around while your toes curled in response to his teasing.

“I need to hear you say it.”

Instead of answering him you let out a long moan as with his words Grayson took his thumb and circled roughly against your clit. His other hand was tightly gripping your ass.

“Daddy. Please.” Your words still weren’t coming out right and for that Grayson gave a hard smack to your ass causing you to squirm on the bed.

“Please? Daddy can do what you want him to, but you have to answer his question baby girl. If not, I can go-

“No, no please don’t-ah! He gave you a few harder smacks that time on both cheeks

As much as you wanted to answer him, everything just felt so good. You were on cloud nine right now, every inch of body felt like it had been sparked and set on fire. Looking down at him between your legs was a gift from god. His strong jaw was clenched waiting for you to be a good girl, the feeling of his large hand being able to get a solid handful of your ass, his fingers that hadn’t left leaving patterns around your pussy that you knew was only dripping more by the second. Still with all of that, you needed more.

“Daddy is the only one wh-who can make me this wet. He owns this pussy.”

The heat in your stomach was set another thousand degrees hotter when seeing Grayson give the cockiest smirk at your words, letting you know you had pleased him and were in the palm of his hand.

“That’s all Daddy needed, princess.”

With that you were expecting to feel your thong slip down your legs before you felt his tongue Gray had other ideas. The skimpy fabric was nothing compared to his strength and like snapping of twig he ripped them away from you before going in fast with his tongue to your center giving you no time to think.

All you could think and feel was heat, warmth, hot. The red of the lights only highlighted what your entire body was going through. His tongue swirled and licked every inch of you from the inside out. No fold was left untouched or unloved as he continued going down on you. Your hands tried to go from his hair but were batted away and held down by him. This made him separate from you for a moment and you could only groan at the way he looked. His mouth wet and slick from your juices, his tongue wasting no time licking what he could off his face as he stared you down once more.

“No. Hands” He said simply, knowing you wouldn’t, or shouldn’t question him.

You bit your lip in frustration but complied, pulling your hands up near your chest and face to figure out something to do as his tongue went back to pushing every button on you just the right way. You could already feel how on edge you were, there was no chance of you lasting much longer and Grayson wasn’t slowing down. As much as you wanted him to fuck you, just like before your words were useless so instead you covered your face with your hands and grinded down on his tongue to reach completion. This release never came through and you removed your hands to look down, seeing Grayson on his knees between your legs wiping at his mouth.

“But Daddy…” You whined needing just that one more moment to take you over the edge.

“Oh baby,” He cooed at you before leaning down to kiss you.

You tasted yourself on his tongue, he wanted you to, and it was one of the top things you loved doing. And he loved giving it to you. It was a moment of pure raw connection. When he pulled back you were panting harshly, still teetering on the edge. It wasn’t until now as well that you realized how unfair all of this had been. Grayson was still fully clothed while you had nothing to your name. It made you flush with both a mix of embarrassment and turned on. He was a powerful man from the top down who didn’t even need to shed one article of clothing to get you whimpering and soaking the bed. You almost admired him for it.

During these thoughts you missed Grayson tucking himself out from his pants. His cock stood proud, somehow making the sensual way he already looked that much more provocative. The tip was slightly red from being confined for so long and it was easy to see it was also leaking perfect drops of precum down the sides. Your mouth that had been wet from tasting yourself was now salivating more looking at the hold he had on his cock. As if he had all the time in the world he was slowly stroking up and down, getting every inch of himself in his hand while his stare was once again back on you.

One of your favorite things was to watch Grayson pleasure himself and he knew it. There were early mornings where you were getting ready in the bathroom as he showered. He would finish himself off as you would enjoy the pull of his muscles as the water dripped down them. Hearing his moans reverberate off the tile until he came over himself. Most of the time you would walk over and help him clean him off some before the rest made its way down the drain.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day.” Grayson said, collecting some of his pre-cum between his fingers. He brought them up to your face where you happily leaned forward, mouth open and ready for his thick fingers.

“Fuck yes” You muttered the best you could around his fingers which made Grayson grin.

His fingers were heavy and solid, the taste of him even better than the taste of yourself. You coated them as best as you could not only for yourself but to get every single drop of him on your tongue.

“I think someone is ready for cock aren’t they, baby girl.” Grayson commented as he removed his fingers, watching the long trail of connected salvia from your swollen lips.

“Please, please, please…” That was the only word that could come to your mind. You don’t think you have ever felt this wet before in your life. At this rate the bed was more than soaked and you felt the stickiness already coating your thighs. Your core was pulsing in excitement, more than ready to take Grayson’s thick size.

Grayson wasted no time pushing your legs back so they were folded by your side near your chest. Your hands now pinned under only one of his while his broad chest kept your legs right in the position he needed. You thought you couldn’t drip anymore but sure enough more liquid slipped out from you knowing how close you were to getting pleased.

“This is what I have been imaging since you left in that dress. Only having on that little thong with no bra.” Grayson kissed down your neck while you felt him line up his head with your entrance. He kept speaking as he slowly moved his dick closer and closer.

“My first thought was not letting you leave at all. I should tie you to the bed and left you there, spent all morning eating you out until you couldn’t take it anymore.” The tip and the head gently pushed its way inside of you.

“After that I thought I should have followed you into the shower. Let you wrap your legs around me as I pounded against the shower wall.” He was now about half way in continuing to go painstakingly slow as he spoke.

“Finally, after you got that dress on, only that little thong and no bra. I wanted to hike it up and fuck you over the kitchen counter.” Now he was fully seating inside of you, not moving, just letting his girth spread you open.

“I think this worked out the way it should have, don’t you princess?”

“Daddy, fuck me. I can’t wait anymore, please just do it.” Your words fell out of your mouth in a jumble but it got the point across. You were over the teasing at this point and just needed Grayson you pound into you like you knew he could.

Grayson leaned forward, capturing your mouth which distracting your before he pulled out and pushed back down deep inside of you. Your moans were transferred to his mouth as then went to nip and tug and your lip as he got up his speed and rhythm. He knew the exact angle to get every inch of his dick to pleasure the inside of your walls.

It was heaven on Earth in every sense of the word. His thick cock pounded at felt like an inhuman speed inside of you. You could do nothing but whimper and moan for more, your whole body tingled from top to bottom at the electricity coursing between the two of you. If you were able to stay in one moment forever it might be this one right here. The tangible pooling of your climax just seconds from breaking its seal. It heighted every sense. The smell of Grayson’s cologne, the darkness in his eyes, the feeling of his teeth scraping against your neck as you knew you would be covered in marks to greet you the next morning as reminders of what had happened. You couldn’t be happier.

“Babe, fuck, you get me every time” Grayson panted into your neck before finishing off the last salty slick area he was leaving his freshest mark. He moved back to mimicking your earlier position of being nose to nose, moving his hands from pinning yours to holding them, fingers locked.

He kept going and going. It was raw, pure passion that could never be emulated with another. Your bodies were crafted to perfectly mold together into this fire that with every pulse of his cock inside of your wet heat was adding another spark, fanning the flames higher and higher. It was engulfing the two of you together in bliss that was like no other. It didn’t matter who could hear or who saw, it was just the two of you sharing the ultimate measure of love and animalistic instincts.

“C-Close” You eventually stuttered out, knowing you couldn’t hold out much longer no matter how good it felt.

“I got you, princess” Grayson kissed your forehead before shifted his thrusts a little. He was already getting your spot but now he was positioned just so that with every thrust inside you could feel the whole head surge against that magical area while him pulling back still drug against it with a lingering jolt.

“Gray, Gray, fuck!” You shouted as you came, not even caring that you slacked on part of the game. It felt too good at that point to try and say anything but the name of the man who was giving you one of the best orgasms of your life.

Grayson moved his hands to grip your hips tightly, keeping you shaking body tucked against his pelvis so he was still fully sheathed inside of you.

“Goddamn.” Grayson panted out as he rode out his climax inside of you. Slowly thrust for each burst of cum that was slowly filling you up.

He pulled out slowly, watching the remaining trails leave the tip of his dick still connected to your body. You watched him lick his lips, unable to tear his eyes away from your now wrecked and puffy pussy.

“I’ll never get use to this view.” Grayson commented, taking a few more moments to soak it in before reaching over to the bedside table.

As much as you loved it too, cum got gross on the body real fast. Knowing this, Grayson grabbed the wipes you guys kept on hand and proceed to clean your lower body for you, leaving light kisses after each time. He tossed it towards the trashcan, missing by a few inches and the sad windspeed for a used cum rag, before shifted up the bed to take you in his arms. He pulled you close to his chest and planted even more kisses in your hair while playing with it. You wanted to say something but knew his mind was concocting something so you waited.

“I love you” Grayson finally said.

“I love you too, babe.” You responded. Not that you had a problem with him saying this, but it wasn’t exactly the first time so you were still confused why it took him so long to say something.

“I just want you to always know how much I love you. And that the things I do always make you feel loved. Please, dear god, tell me if I’m every being stupid or you don’t feel like enough, not that you should every feel that way because you are an angel but I know that sometimes we don’t tell people how we feel even the ones close to us and it would kill me if you ever felt that and I didn’t know so- “

“Gray, baby boy, take a breath. Where did this come from.” You turned in his hold to face him better while stroking his cheek lightly. He brought up one hand to play with your fingers while the other tip toed up and down your back.

“I love what we do and being together. You are the only girl there is for me out there, I’m sure of it. I guess I sometimes get worried that I’m not a good boyfriend. Then when we have moments like we just did I know that I could never have that with someone else, and I don’t want to. I guess I just wanted to be sure everything was the same for you.” Grayson’s eyes turned sheepish and his mouth twisted into that specific smile that made you realize just how special he was. That this just now 20-year-old man had been blessed with so much at such a young age but that was still the thing. He was still young and only a few months ago no longer a teenager. Him with a heart of gold and a society watching him through a black lens of microscopic judgement. Yet he was still too good of a person and you got to share that with him. Grayson Dolan was truly a blessing.

“You know that if we ever have problems I tell you. I can assure you one of those problems will never be wondering if you love me or not or if I feel loved. I know I want to go on a hike tomorrow and maybe we can wrangle Ethan to get up and go as well, so let’s get some sleep. I’m already exhausted from other activities.”

The two of you grinned at one another before sharing a lingering kiss before falling asleep in your most favorite position to be, maybe even more then sex, cuddling one another in the soft, cozy comfort of the bed.

#dolan twins #dolan twins imagine #grayson dolan #grayson dolan imagine #grayson bailey dolan #grayson bailey dolan imagine

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 6 years

Text

Write Me a Lullaby Part 14

Summary: Delilah has been writing to her Penpal for almost six years. She doesn't know his real name and she doesn't know what he does for a living. When she's set to meet him, she's surprised to find out she's been falling in love with Sebastian Stan

Chapter Summary: The baby arrives!

Warnings: Labor, childbirth

Note: I have no childbirth experience. Everything I know is from other fics I’ve read...sort of like everything else in my life.

Almost nine months in and I was about ready to pop. My due date was approaching quickly and Sebastian was reluctant to leave me alone. He was worried that I would go into labor and he’d be elsewhere. But he was still due to be filming and I wouldn’t let him put it on hold.

So he was at the studio when my water broke. I hardly even noticed until I felt the back of my jeans were soaked. It took me a few moments to actually realize what had happened. I stared at Rocket as if he could tell me I was about to have a baby.

“Hello?”

“Hey, are you still on set?”

“Yeah, I’ll be another hour, want me to pick up dinner?”

“Sure, yeah. Uh…make that extra though.”

“What?”

“Get dinner for one more too.”

“Are you expecting company?”

“Yeah, in a few hours. Maybe six hours…”

“What? It’s already seven o’clock, who’s coming in six hours?”

“Surprise!”

“Delilah, you’re not making any sense, what is going on?”

“Uh, so remember like nine months ago we had sex and then…”

“Wait, are you talking about the baby?”

“Yeah.”

“The baby? As in the baby is coming? You’re going into labor?”

“I think so.”

“Delilah!” Sebastian sounded just as stunned as I felt. “You’ve been rambling for like ten minutes why didn’t you just tell me when I picked up the phone?”

“I don’t know! I don’t really know what’s going on, I’m really freaking out!” I started to panic.

“Okay, okay, okay, don’t freak out. Just breathe, uh, I’ll grab a cab. Should we call an ambulance?” I heard him start to grab a few things.

“I don’t know! I’ve never had a baby before!”

“Fuck, okay, okay, okay.” He said a few words to someone on the other side of the line. “I’m having Chris pick you up, he’s in the area. He’s going to drive you to the hospital and I’ll be there when you get there.” He said.

“Chris?”

“Yes, just grab your things for the hospital and go downstairs. Try not to panic. I’ll see you soon.” He hung up.

I grabbed my pre-packed bag for the hospital and looked at Rocket. “Okay, uh, you stay here. I’ll be back with a baby, okay?” I winced as I felt a contraction hit me. I walked carefully down to the sidewalk and saw Chris pull up a few minutes later.

“Are you okay?” Chris rushed out of the car and grabbed the bag from me.

“Uh, I think so. I’m having a baby though.” I said as if he didn’t know already.

“C’mon, Sebastian’s on his way to the hospital.” He helped me into the car and started driving to the hospital. Thankfully, we didn’t get caught up in too much LA traffic and made it to the hospital in one piece.

============

I waddled with Chris to the maternity ward where Sebastian was already pacing. He jumped to help me into a wheelchair.

“You’re already checked in, c’mon.” He walked beside me as a nurse brought me into a room.

An hour later, and Sebastian and I had calmed down a bit. It was still a shock that we were going to meet our son that night, but we were more prepared than we initially were.

“Alright, so we’re at the hospital, Delilah’s having contractions, we’re just waiting now.” Sebastian turned the camera to me. I smiled when I saw Georgeta and Anthony.

“Hi,” I waved. “Your grandson is on his way!”

Georgeta was nearly in tears. “Oh, Delilah, we can’t wait to meet him.” She gushed. “Sebastian, please send us pictures the second he is born.”

“I will, mom.” He promised. “I’ve got to go, I’ll keep you updated.” He hung up the facetime call and sat back down. “Chris said there are already people wondering if the baby is coming.” He said.

“It’s because you rushed off set.” I reminded him. “You probably weren’t very subtle about it.”

“Well, you were very subtle about your water breaking.” He grinned and kissed my hand.

“I didn’t want to give you a heart attack by just saying ‘hey the baby’s coming!’. I was trying to be clever.” I pouted.

Sebastian chuckled. “Well, have you thought of any names yet?” He wondered.

“I haven’t decided yet. I will when I see him.” I said and rubbed my stomach. I sighed softly and winced as I felt another contraction. “They’re getting closer together.”

“It’s only a matter of time.”

==============

Midnight rolled around and the baby was starting to crown. I gripped onto Sebastian’s arm as I went through the motions of pushing and breathing. It helped to have him coaching me through it, knowing he was there made it easier.

“One last push, Delilah.” The doctor instructed and I heard our baby start to cry as he breathed in the air for the first time.

“Mr. Stan, you can cut the umbilical cord.” The doctor clamped the cord and Sebastian cut. His hands were shaking terribly and he had tears running down his face.

I was breathing steadily as I reached out to take him into my arms. He was still a little sticky but I didn’t care. I held my son close to my chest and cried. I couldn’t compare the feeling to anything I’d experienced before. It was thrilling and comforting. But it was powerful and I couldn’t imagine ever letting go of him.

“Luca…” I whispered as I saw his face for the first time.

===============

After Luca was cleaned up and swaddled, Sebastian and I just sat on the bed staring at him. It was like he was the rarest thing on the planet and we couldn’t look away. To us, he was.

Sebastian held him close and wrapped an arm around me. “He’s absolutely perfect.” He murmured for the fifth time. He kissed my temple again and hugged me close. “You’ve given me such a gift.”

I smiled tiredly and reached over. I let Luca take my finger in his tiny hand and squeeze it gently. “I love you both so much,” I whispered. “My two loves.”

Luca opened his gray eyes and looked up at Sebastian. He yawned contently and squirmed a little in his swaddle.

Sebastian had to wipe his eyes again; he seemed utterly amazed by every movement Luca made. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive.” He kissed my cheek and then kissed Luca’s forehead.

I fell asleep for a bit and woke up to Sebastian talking softly to our son.

“You’ve been alive for a whole day!” He whispered. “What do you think so far? Do you like it? Do you love your momma?”

I opened my eyes and looked over at him. I smiled and winced slightly as I sat up. I was still a little sore after the delivery.

Sebastian looked over at me. “Did I wake you up?”

“No, it’s fine. I missed him.” I laughed and reached for him.

He stood up and sat down on the hospital bed with me. He propped Luca up so I could see him.

“Hi, my love,” I whispered and rubbed my thumb over his little cheek. Luca opened his eyes and moved his hand out of the swaddle.

“It’s so crazy having him.” Sebastian couldn’t pull his eyes away from him. “He seems too perfect to be real.” He chuckled. “I can’t wait for everyone to meet him.”

“They’re going to be so jealous of our little angel.” I cooed.

Luca wriggled around and his face scrunched up as he began to cry.

“Aw, baby, it’s okay.” I scooped him up out of Sebastian’s arms and held him close to my chest to try to soothe him. It was heartbreaking to hear him cry. He hiccupped softly and started to settle a little bit as I rubbed his back.

“He just wanted to be with his mom.” Sebastian smiled warmly and gently brushed back Luca’s hair.

“It looks like he’s going to have his daddy’s hair.” I giggled. “He’s going to be such a charmer.”

Luca yawned and a little smile formed on his face.

Sebastian and I watched with pure love in our eyes. “He’s perfect.” I murmured and kissed his forehead.

“Hey…uh Luca, what do you think about having a little wedding when you get a little older?”

I glanced over at him. “What?”

He reached into his pocket. “I wanted to give you a better proposal but it feels perfect being here with you and our little man.” He opened a small ring box.

“Sebs…” I couldn’t help but let my tears start to form in my eyes. I was so overwhelmed with how happy I was, I couldn’t stop crying.

Sebastian winced a little. “Are you crying because you’re…”

“I’m happy,” I assured him. “I’m so happy, I love you so much.” I reached over with my free hand to kiss him deeply.

===========

I reached into the back seat to unbuckle Luca from his car seat. We were bringing our son home for the first time and I was so excited. It would just be Sebastian, Luca, and me for a few weeks. Of course, family and friends would be in and out visiting but we were now our own little family.

Sebastian locked his car and wrapped an arm around me as we walked up to the apartment.

“Here we are.” I cooed as I walked in. “Luca’s first day home.”

“My mom wants another hundred pictures.” He chuckled as we settled in.

“Well, I don’t blame her, he’s just so darn cute.” I giggled and yawned.

“Do you want to take a nap?” Sebastian asked as I sat down on the couch. “I’ll watch him for a bit. “I’m sure he’ll just be sleeping.”

“You’re heaven sent.” I let him take Luca from my arms. I lay down and he used his free hand to drape a blanket over me. “I love you.” I yawned again and closed my eyes.

==================

After about an hour, I woke up and found Sebastian asleep with Luca sleeping as well in his arms. I smiled warmly and grabbed my phone to take a picture. I stood up and went to take Luca from his arms.

Sebastian jolted a little bit. “W-what?” He opened his eyes and looked around.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I tried staying awake but it was such a long night waiting for this kid.” He stretched and chuckled.

“He was worth it.” I nuzzled Luca’s cheek. He opened his eyes and moved his hand to grab my hair.

“Chris is coming around soon if that’s okay. Anthony’s coming Saturday. My parents are flying out next week. We’re going to have to start booking appointments for him.” He laughed.

“He’s going to be more popular than his daddy very soon,” I said and scrolled through my phone to show Sebastian the picture I took.

He smiled and looked proud. “Can I post that?” He asked. “I think people want to know that you’re both okay.”

I nodded. “Of course. He can make his debut in the world.”

Masterpost

#sebastian stan fic #Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan rpf #rpf #marvel rpf #mcu rpf #marvel actors #marvel actor rpf #actor rpf #pregnancy #baby #delivery #fatherhood

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riverofmemoriesft · 7 years

Text

. Obsessive Impulsive . 14

Full Summary: “‘I’ve been trying to find you alone for weeks, but you’ve been avoiding me.’ He clicked his tongue, as if scolding her. 'I tried approaching, but you always had someone with you to give me nasty words and looks. They turned you against me, Miss Levy.’"

Pairings: Gajeel x Levy

Warnings: I strode for a darker fic again. This is not for sensitive readers. Violence, stalking, etc.

Author’s Note: This is a very, very twisted gift for Bubbles, who has not been allowed to so much as read a single chapter. This will update every other day.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip-

Levy's hazel eyes fluttered open, hazed with pain and confusion. She blinked a few times, and then gasped, shooting upright. Pain lanced through her - bandaged, she noted - shoulder, and she rested a hand lightly on it as she looked around.

A sewer? she wondered, shocked as she took in the space around her. She was resting semi-upright beside a round grated entrance that, from the looks of it, could be removed if necessary. She licked her lips, remembering who she'd last seen, and looked around. Elroy wasn't there at the moment.

She hissed as she struggled to sit forward. Blood seeped into the bandage, warm and sticky, but she ignored it - particularly as a shadow appeared nearby.

"You're awake, Miss Levy!" Elroy cheerfully said, green eyes glinting in the dark.

Levy spat at him, furious. "Take me home, Elroy."

He disregarded her fury and instead stepped over, lightly grabbing her wrist when she tried to hit him. She shrieked in outrage as she was lifted into his arms with a gentle touch. She was disgusted with it. "Forgive me, Miss Levy, but we need to hurry. Someone will come looking for you soon, and I don't want you to be taken from me again. Do you?"

"Yes, surprisingly enough," she said wryly as he started forward. Her shoulder ached horribly. She wouldn't be surprised if it got infected. Not with the space they were traveling through. "I honestly hate to break it to you, Elroy, but home is sounding pretty nice right now."

"You don't mean that," he murmured, furrowing his brow.

"Again. Surprisingly enough, I do."

He ignored that and kept walking. It seemed like ages before they reached an exit to these sewers, and when they did, Levy was blinded by the sun. She threw her good side's arm up to protect her eyes. When she lowered it, her heart skipped a beat.

They were literally in the middle of nowhere. Eloy's legs were wet from walking through dirty water.

And her eyes welled with tears as the cuff on her arm glinted in the sunlight.

Because not even Natsu would find her now.

Elroy headed onwards, and Levy sniffled. His gaze dropped to look at her, nearly leaf-green in the light. Levy couldn't tell if night had come and gone, or even how many days or hours it had been since she'd last seen the horrified look on Gajeel's face.

"Miss Levy," he soothed, "it'll be alright, you'll see. You won't need to worry. I'll take good care of you, and soon, you'll forget about everything else."

"This is kidnapping," she whispered. "You're taking me against my will, Elroy!" Her voice rose until she shouted, "In what world would I even think about dating or even liking you?!"

His gaze darkened angrily. "Stop it-"

"No," she seethed. "I will never think of you as anything but as close to evil as someone can get. And I've looked evil in the eye and survived. Gajeel crucified me to a tree. And even after I've forgiven and forgotten that, he still doesn't think he's worth anything to me! If you think you're worth more than a rock to me after this, than you're a delusional psycho!"

The blow came so fast, she didn't see it coming. She cried out as a stinging pain filled her cheek. Elory had slapped her - and continued to glare at her, practically foaming at the mouth as he snarled, "Don't talk about me like that! Or him! One more word about Gajeel Redfox, and I'll make damn sure he finds your body half-rotted in the middle of the woods!"

Levy clenched her jaw and said nothing, her small chest heaving as she glared at him hatefully.

A heartbroken look spread over his face. "Miss Levy, don't look at me like that," he whimpered, and she yanked her face out of his reach when he paused and tried to touch her cheek. He frowned, unhappy. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"I hate you," she seethed.

His gaze hardened. "We'll change that," he mumbled, half to himself and half to her.

Levy looked to the sky and willed herself to stay strong.

"I'm coming with you."

"That's fine." Gajeel nodded in approval the next morning at Lily's fierce words as he shoved some medical supplies into a bag for when he found his new sort of girlfriend. Nighttime had come and gone, giving him resting time that he didn't want, and now it was time to leave. The birds had begun to chirp hours before.

"I'm coming with you, too."

"...that's definitely not fine," Gajeel said, pausing and turning to look at the glaring sky mage. Wendy's dark eyes were sharp, her cheeks puffed up as she gave him a nasty look. He was impressed. "Sorry," he grunted, patting her on the head. "Mira and Erza would kill me."

"I can fight," she insisted.

"I don't doubt ya can. But Charle would kill me, too." He scrambled for reasons. "Besides. I need someone to be ready to help her when we get back. I sure as hell ain't a fuckin' healer."

She faltered. "I...I want to…"

"I know." He didn't budge on the matter, refusing. He would not let Wendy come out there after this man. Not when they didn't know what he was doing with Levy - a line of thinking he did not let himself go down. "Please, Wendy."

"Okay." She took a deep breath and then told him to hold on. She slipped out of the main part of the guildhall, where the guild had offered shelter for the injured - and for the bodies of those who'd been killed. Some in the guild were there, tending to those who needed it and offering to help others search for the missing. No one seemed to notice Levy was gone - something Makarov had wanted when he'd ordered Gajeel to leave and not return until he had Levy with him.

Dead or alive.

Wendy came back, trilling lowly in her throat. "Natsu's badly hurt. Porlyusica's with him. But...he said that if you were going to leave, to tell him. He gave me this to give you." She pressed something into his fingers.

Gajeel blinked as he unfolded the cloth. Within it was a cuff of iron - one of his own, made specially by Gajeel himself. Natsu had demanded he make it and then had carved crude symbols of luck-wishing, protection, and other such phrases.

All in Draconian.

Despite his irritation towards Natsu on a regular basis, Gajeel clasped it on his wrist and told her, "Tell Salamander I say thanks."

She nodded and stepped back. "Good luck!"

Gajeel nodded curtly and glanced at Lily, who met his gaze and inclined his head. He was ready.

"Alright," he rumbled. "We're gonna start around the explosion site, Lil'."

"Understood," Lily replied.

His wings snapped out and Gajeel bared his teeth in a malicious grin.

"Let's go kick that fucker's ass."

It seemed like ages before Elroy stopped and when he did, Levy felt fear race down her spine because she realized just how long he'd been planning this. Because there was no way in hell that you could set up a fully stocked cabin in just a week.

Her throat dry, she whispered, "How?"

Elroy beamed. "I payed people to come out and build it. Isn't it lovely?"

Sure. I'd love to come here. If I wasn't with a stalker.

Taking a deep breath, Levy tried to shove herself free of him. With gentle hands, he put her down, but kept a firm grip on her cuffed wrist. To make sure she wouldn't go anywhere...not that she would make it far. She wondered how high the smoke would go if she burned the cabin down.

That would be a thing to try. Lock him in, burn, and run until someone figured out where she was.

"You must be hungry and tired." Elroy suddenly pulled her towards the cabin. "Come, Miss Levy, we'll make sure you're fed and see to it that you are put to bed."

Levy pressed her lips together. Maybe she could try to escape when he was asleep? He'd have to be exhausted, too. Those shadows beneath his eyes were brutal...but he'd be waiting for attempts tonight, the first night.

Levy grimaced as she was pushed inside, taking in the space around her. It wasn't too good, thank the heavens above. It was filled with cheap furniture, a running fridge and an old stove that looked as if it would blow up at any second. She wondered if she could sabotage it?

She looked to Elroy when he chirped, "Your room is here." He pointed to a door and she hesitantly walked over to it. Any thoughts of escape left her when she found that the window within the simple room containing only a bed and a shelf of books was barred.

She hated her luck.

She freaking hated her luck.

Levy, with reluctance, entered the room and wasn't surprised when Elroy closed and locked the door behind her, calling, "I'll be back and then you can come out! They've brainwashed you so much, I know you'll try to go back. I'm sorry, Miss Levy."

When Elroy was gone, she sank to the ground, seated against a wall. She swallowed the lump in her throat, flinching at the throbbing in her shoulder - and forced herself not to cry. She would not cry.

No, no crying.

But Levy was determined to find a way out of this. Even if it meant tainting her hands and soul with Elroy's blood.

Because that may very well be the only way she could get out.

Gajeel studied the space around he and Lily. Lily was on his shoulder, using his tail to balance himself. Gajeel could see Erza heaving against some debris with Juvia and Gray, her dark eyes worried for whoever was trapped. She was streaked with ash.

They'd wandered the area, seeking any sign of Levy. He'd finally found an iron pipe that was almost entirely slicked with Levy's blood. Lily had looked disgusted - as had Gajeel as he'd breathed in that horrific and familiar scent before using it to track her. He'd gotten halfway down Strawberry Street before it disappeared.

"Fuck," he seethed.

"We'll find her," a calm Lily muttered. "She didn't just disappear into thin air."

"She might as well have!" Gajeel crossed his arms. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself, frustrated. After a moment, he drew a hand down his face, thinking. Elroy had definitely taken Levy and run. He'd caught his stench while investigating the pipe. The question was how he'd managed to get out of town without being noticed by anyone, because they'd checked and nobody had seen them.

Gajeel's gaze roved the street slowly, studying it as people worked and wailed and whimpered.

He'd been down the street plenty of times and knew precisely where everything had been before. He remembered slipping through the sewers beneath it, too, hunting for a criminal that Makarov had wanted him to detain-

The sewers.

Gajeel lunged for the nearest entrance, earning a squawk from his cat. "What are you doing?!"

"The sewers." He knelt to peer into the hole in the ground, jaw working furiously when he saw that it had flooded. Something had burst thanks to the canal. "I bet he used it to get around...Juvia!" he shouted, looking over his shoulder. The water mage paused, blinking, and then waved for a tired Gildarts to take her place.

"Gajeel?" she said curiously when she'd come over, "What-"

"Clear the sewers," he ordered, peering into the darkness. "This section flooded and I gotta find Levy. Fucker went down in 'em like a rat."

Juvia's lips parted, blue eyes stretching wide. "Okay." She cleared her throat and stepped back. "Juvia needs you to patch up the breach though."

She settled contently into a stance, eyes on the canal. She suddenly closed them - and then snapped them open as the water came soaring out of the sewer, swirling through the air and into its proper place. Gajeel went to work, creating a patchwork of iron that he nailed into the massive crumbling hole. It wouldn't hold forever, but it would hold for a few weeks at most.

"Juvia will have Gray strengthen it," she promised. "Be careful, Gajeel."

He ruffled her hair as Lily settled onto his shoulder again. "See ya later, water woman."

And then he jumped.

#fairy tail #fanfiction #obsessive impulsive #riverofmemoriesft #gajevy #gajeel x levy #gajeel redfox #levy mcgarden #pantherlily #wendy marvell #juvia lockser

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thorias · 7 years

Text

Random thoughts watching Riverdale episode 3

I’m not sure how accurate Jason’s autopsy results could be if his body had been in the river for any real length of time.

So the Blossoms went to the river that day with the intention of faking Jason’s death? CALLED IT!

Betty’s mom (who apparently owns the newspaper) seems absolutely gung ho about pronouncing Cheryl guilty of murder. Good grief, this woman is more biased than J. Jonah Jameson. No wonder Betty’s so messed up.

Archie almost talks to Grundy, but then goes to confess what he knows about the gunshot instead. A gold star for this boy finally making the right decision. There’s hope for you yet, carrot top.

Archie saying he was there and heard the gunshot, but leaving out the part where Grundy was there with him just shines a light on how ridiculous it is that neither of them went to the police on July 4th. All they had to do was not mention the part about them being together.

According to Kevin, dating the high school football coach’s son is like dating a Kennedy in this town. My god, these people must be so starved for entertainment.

Betty is taking it upon herself to restart the high school newspaper because she can just do that somehow. And the faculty is okay with them writing a story about a murder investigation? Did Weatherbee sign off on this? I have so many questions...

Archie protests being grounded for two weeks because he never told his dad about the gunshot. Shut your trap, Archie. This isn’t even a slap on the wrist for keeping something like that a secret.

Grundy is fucking evil. Archie did the right thing coming forward, he kept her name out of it and she’s still blaming him. Even if she’s not the murderer, I want this self-serving bitch gone.

“Sticky Maple” sounds even dirtier out loud than it probably did on paper. TV!Chuck is an asshole. I hope TV!Nancy kicks this putz to the curb.

Does Veronica just have a giant pop culture lexicon stuffed in her purse? Where is she pulling all these references from?

Betty’s not-so-subtle reaction to seeing Archie in a towel is priceless. Her facial expressions in general are just freaking adorable.

So TV!Dilton is a standoffish boy scout drill sergeant? I don’t know if that’s intended to be funny, but it is.

Turns out a whole bunch of girls in the school have been sticky-mapled by Chuck and his goons. Even Barb?! You monsters. Hasn’t that poor girl been through enough?

I think I’m starting to understand why Archie is considered such a prime catch in this town. It’s not because he’s so great, but because all the other guys are such raging dickbags that he looks so much better by comparison.

“Dilton Doiley shot the gun on July 4th?” Yeah, the idea of freaking Dilton as a hardcore survivalist sounds just as ridiculous to me as it must sound to Jughead.

Archie feels he’s qualified to write songs for the Pussycats? That feels a little uncomfortable now that they’ve been race-bent into an all POC band. Just when Josie has started being a lot nicer than she was in the pilot, Archie ‘the spoiler’ Andrews has to go and ruin it. Is it possible that he’s so thick-headed, he just doesn’t understand what kind of tightrope he’s walking on here?

Oh shit. Midge is in the sticky maple book? Comic!Moose would be ashamed of you, TV!Moose! Are Archie and Jughead the only guys from the comics that this show hasn’t turned into complete pricks?

Archie fixes a song lyric for the Pussycats and it works really well. So who was in the wrong here? Archie for assuming he was qualified to write music for a demographic he knows nothing about or Josie for not wanting to give him a shot only to find out that he was actually right?

Not that Betty doesn’t get points for effort in luring Chuck into a revenge plot, but I can’t believe he actually fell for that. Did he honestly think she was into him after that scene in the bathroom? Good lord, this guy is self-absorbed.

“Hey, dad, I know I broke curfew and snuck out when I was grounded, but can I go to this music thing tomorrow?” Shut up, Archie.

Chuck shows up at the pool to find Veronica waiting for him instead of Betty. She’s acting all seductive and alluring right after he slut-shamed her and it STILL isn’t setting off any alarm bells in his head. Congratulations, Archie, you are no longer the most thick-headed idiot in Riverdale. This guy is so stupid, he deserves whatever bitch slap of justice he’s about to get.

Darth Betty, WTF?! Maybe her mom wasn’t blowing smoke when she said her daughter needed to be medicated after all.

Why do all the adults address each other by their first and last name like they’re in some hackneyed, cheesy mystery novel? “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Hermione Lodge.” “Hello, Fred Andrews, just the man I was looking for.” “Greetings, everyone. I, Alice Cooper, wish to join this conversation.” Who talks like this?

Betty and Veronica are about to roofy Chuck and this is getting into a morally gray area that I’m not really at ease with.

Holy shit, Betty ‘ticking time bomb’ Cooper is threatening to scald and drown Chuck! What the hell am I watching here? Yeah, he’s an asshole, but isn’t this a little extreme?

Betty is confusing Chuck with Jason and herself with Polly as she pours maple syrup all over him and steps on his head to drown him! JESUS CHRIST, HER MOM WAS RIGHT!!! SOMEONE FIND BETTY’S MEDS!!!

The camera zooms in on a cute photo of Betty/Archie and the Darth Betty wig she keeps in her locker. I’m genuinely creeped out here. Archie, the next time things with Betty get angsty, just tell her whatever she wants to hear and, for god’s sake, make sure there’s an eye witness around.

Betty and Veronica got off surprisingly easy for something that came dangerously close to attempted murder.

Archie thanks Grundy for talking to his dad and just like that she’s lured him back into her toxic web. FFS, man, how do you not see what she’s doing? I swear, this thick-headed disease that afflicted all the guys in Riverdale is an epidemic. Is Jughead the only one who’s immune?

When Betty inevitably finds out about Archie and Grundy, I’m going to pray for the soul of anyone within a hundred yards of her. That is going to get downright UGLY.

#riverdale #betty cooper #veronica lodge #archie andrews #1x03 #body double

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staffcommandershepard · 7 years

Text

A Breath of Smoke

I suck at fanfiction but I thought “Hey why not share my sadness with others?”

This takes place after the Destory ending if Shepard lives.

Fire. It's all I feel. The sound of screeching metal and the deafening sound of an explosion is the last thing I remember…

I don't know what stirs me. The ringing in my ears now sounds as if someone is holding me underwater and my entire body was numb while I slept, but I am definitely not sleeping anymore. I open my eyes and everything has a blurred filter and a severe pain in my skull thrashes about behind my eyes as I close them again. I think to move, every single second that goes by brings the pain back as I try to remember, but the only thing I can focus on is the pain. The severe burning through my whole body, the stabbing into my rib cage, the gunshot to my shoulder, the gunshot to my thigh, my...everything. I try to move again and my back responds as I stir under rubble, the smell of ash and burning flesh making my heart race as I realize I'm smelling my burning flesh. I try to call out for help, gasping for air and coughing as the words don't leave my sandpaper throat. I know I'm dying…the reapers beam nearly liquefied me, I know there are parts of my armor burned to my body. I have several open wounds in vital places. I know what a broken rib feels like, and I feel as though every one on my left side is in pieces and are personally stabbing each part of my insides. I know I'm not going to hold out much longer. I blew up the core...I destroyed every reaper…and if dying has saved the entirety of the galaxy, then...then so be it. I have succeeded. I fulfilled my duties as an N7 soldier, as a Spectre, as a friend...as a lover.

I saved everyone I could. I know he would've died...he nearly lost his leg on the run to the Citadel and even if he made it up there with me, I know what the Illusive Man would've done to get to me...and it probably would've worked. I loved Kaidan so much, too much to the point where our love could've killed both of us. My death-well my second death-is going to kill him and I hate that I've scarred his life so greatly that I can kill him by this. I'm going to miss that smile of his when I walked in the room, and the smell of his body wash, and the messy look of his hair in the morning...I would've loved to have seen him become a father and me a mother to his children. He's so patient and gentle with kids. He’s going to be such a great dad someday….I take in a heavy breath, my entire chest burning and I struggle to pull more air in as I know my thoughts are going to soon end. No.

I sit up more, my hands shaking uncontrollably as I try to move my legs towards me, white-hot pain nearly knocking me out as I grit my teeth and roll over onto my stomach. I breathe audibly now, the air cutting my dry mouth from the amount of dust and concrete stuck in there and lack of saliva makes me cough. If I find water, it'll be a toss-up on whether I clean my wounds with it or drink every drop. I manage to lean on the heels of my hands, the cuts there burning as I open my eyes and only see grey dust surrounding me, as if I'm caught in thick fog. Okay. I think every rib is broken on my left and I think one or two are on my right. My right leg took heavy damage. I may have a major concussion. I take in another deep breath through my nose and push myself up my knees, leaning on my left leg as I get myself off of the ground. My entire body fights my advances, but I fight twice as hard to ignore them. I’m going to live through this dammit and it isn’t going to kill me. They don't get to say they killed me. I’m too goddamn stubborn. I put all of my weight onto my left leg, my stomach screaming as I do, but the pain subsides a bit as I apply pressure to where a majority of my ribs are broken. I grab onto the rubble next to me to hold myself still as I look around at the remains of what once was the Citadel. Peace and beauty is what they fought to achieve as the embodiment of this place…the Council heads would be spinning at this sight….Burning buildings and rubble for as far as the eyes can see, the stench making you wanna vomit because it's the stench of skin and hair still on fire from the blast. I know a lot of what I smell is my own skin. I reach my hand up to feel the top of my head, my bun a dusty mess as most of it hangs outside of the hair tie and pins I had in, pieces of it crunching in my hand from being singed, but I still have hair at least. Where do I even go….I can’t hear anything other than ringing and that’s worrisome, but I’ve been too close to explosions before, it'll go away. I look to my torso, soot and dust completely covering the open wound where my ribs are, but there's no mistaking the dark red color of blood as I pull my hand away to see the sticky substance cover it. Yeah, definitely still bleeding in a few places. Jesus, can't wait to see the face on the poor sap that finds me and is in charge of fixing the pile of shit that my body’s left in. An hour, I'll last, tops, maybe less than that if there is internal bleeding. Too much blood. I take in a deep breath, as deep as my chest will allow anyway, and keep moving to what I can tell is the center of the skeleton of the Citadel. If I can find the Presidium, I can try and find something to get off of this and find Normandy, or Hackett, or both. Both would be good. I know there’s something left on this damn station. I wasn't blow too far away.

I can see what was left of an AVINA hub, but no trace of AVINA. No electricity. I hobble past and continue forward, my mind telling me to take a left, so I do it. I've been here millions of times, I have to have some kind of muscle memory by now on where things should be. Somethings are changed from the Citadel arms being closed, but now it looks like everything is starting to revert back...sort of. I get to a chasm, realizing it was once the bridge leading to the tower, or what's left of the tower. A smoking ruin. Garrus was right about one thing, except that this is the Citadel and not Earth. God I hope Earth is better than this mess. It has to be, most of the damage was in major cities, they didn't get to smaller ones yet, Anderson said so himself.

Anderson. Son of a bitch....He was up there with me, before I met the Catalyst, before I chose to destroy the reapers, we were sitting together and he.... I close my eyes, tears welling up behind my lids as I try to swallow the ball in my throat. David Anderson...one of the greatest men I ever knew. He was like a second father to me. He took me in when I was all alone in the galaxy. I joined the Alliance with no stops in my way, thanks to him. He told me he was proud of me. He helped me become who I am. I owe my life to him, I owe so much to him. I’m going to tell Kahlee myself. She doesn’t deserve a message about him being MIA, she deserves to be told in person. I wipe my face with my hand, blood covering it as I continue forward and look up at where the Council once sat in session, where they made me the first human Spectre, and where they decided to be selfish 457 times when it came to my suggestions on how to stop the reapers. Funny. Would we be in this state if they had listened to me the first time? Did they even make it? I shake my head and continue forward, searching around for any sign of a skycar still being here, but I don't even know what I'm looking at. Some of the area is recognizable but not much. Maybe they did away with the cars. That's believable, considering the keepers take care of this place and I watched one sort through piles and piles of dead bodies. I wonder if they were destroyed along with the reapers, considering they were controlled by them. It's definitely a possibility, and I have yet to see one. I lean against a large slab of cement and take a deep breath as I glance around and finally spot a skycar. A hundred yards away, at least but I can make it. Thank god it isn't too far. I try to put a bit of weight on my bad leg and I almost fall over as I do, so that's a big fat fuck no. I look down at the mess of burnt-up armor as blood oozes from the center of my leg and I retraces my footsteps with my eyes, scoffing to myself as I see the trail of bright red blood droplets that I have left on this gray and dusty mess of a station. If any enemies were here, I would be a sitting duck at this point. I march along, well hobble along, applying more pressure to my stomach.

It only took fifteen minutes but it feels as if fifteen years go by when I finally get to the skycar, but getting to it now is the fun part. It sits leaning on top of large bushes and the wreckage of another skycar, the driver’s side door at least nine to ten feet up. There is also no way that it’s unlocked, so I grab a piece of cement, aiming at the driver’s side window and hurl the rock right through it. I hear it shatter faintly, smiling as my hearing begins to return a bit. I take in a deep breath and go to the back of the busted-up skycar, pulling myself on the hood of it as my hands slip in my own blood, causing me to nearly fall off but I get a second and right myself. Probably should look around for some old fabric or something to pack these deep wounds, maybe a tourniquet for my leg. Can't think about that now. I grab onto the side of the good skycar, moving my armored forearm against the edges of the window to knock away loose glass as I lean my bad leg in first, scooting my butt through the window and plopping into the seat to put as little weight on it as possible. I sit for a minute, not remembering what it’s like to sit down. Just a minute...I sigh and look around at the vehicle, not too bad of damage at least. I think I can manage something. I move the seat back, peeling away the panel underneath the steering wheel as I look at the black wires, moving the wheel to figure out which ones lead to the ignition. I paid attention to Steve enough to at least know a thing or two about cars. I use my teeth to peel away the rubber stoppers on two different wires and I touch them together, holding them together in one hand as I push hard on the emergency start button. Sparks come to life on the wires, but the car doesn't vibrate like it should. I pull them away and try again, pushing harder as I start to concentrate on the sounds I am starting to hear, but all I hear is the clicking of the engine. Nothing. Fucking nothing.

I lean hard back in the seat and close my eyes, kicking the steering wheel hard with my good foot. Gotta be another way. Maybe I'll just wait around for someone to find me. No one’s going to find me in a busted up car. I sigh and open my eyes, staring at the ceiling as I think of the nice, absorbent fabric that it’s made of and I look to the floor now to find a nice-sized shard of glass. I shove it in and start to cut a bit off and then I turn to the seat belt, cutting that off as well. I lean into the other seat onto my back and pull the metal up on my side up as I groan, causing the wound to bleed more as I start to stuff the fabric in the hole, pushing down as hard as I can until I get all of it in there. Next issue now. I lean up again, this time pulling at the metal lining in between the ceiling and windshield of the skycar, pushing my good leg up to break the metal at a good length and I manage that as I take in a deep breath, leaning my ankle out of the window to keep my leg straight as I tie the metal in place with pieces of the seat belt. Karin would be proud, Shepard. I sit up completely, leaning both feet carefully out of the window this time as I grip the top of the busted window with my hands and carefully push myself out. Good so far. I sit down on the edge of the other skycar, pushing myself off again just as careful, but my right leg hits it first and I crumple to the ground. I cry out, but I'm still alright. I look at my leg, the makeshift tourniquet still in place as I push myself up and try to think of my next move. Can't find me if they can't see me. How the hell do I make them see me in all of this? Goddammit. Considering the skycar is now useless, it'll do. Older model, still has a manual hood release under the steering wheel. I wish I would've thought of this five damn minutes ago, but I also didn't anticipate having to hold in my organs with a skycar’s ceiling cloth, so the world is full of surprises today. There is plenty of fire surrounding me still, so causing another explosive shouldn't be too difficult.

I lied. It was pretty fucking difficult. I couldn’t lift myself up into the good skycar again, so I used more rocks to bust into the broken one, pop the hood on it, cut more ceiling off, tear some leather off of the seat, then get out and bust the engine open to steal some gas and oil to make a torch so I can light this baby up. I take in a sharp breath, pushing down on my stomach wound hard as I sit down in front of the tower’s doors, placing the last piece of gasoline-soaked fabric next to me. Make-shift torch touches the line of fabric, it ignites immediately and leads straight to the engine and boom goes both cars. I think I'm far enough away. I sigh and lean the torch next me to on the opposite side of the fabric, looking to my wound as I realize the same cloth isn't working anymore on it. I guess there's only so much a person can bleed before the good idea you thought you had is a bad one now. That's most of my ideas, at least I think so. Joker and Garrus always agreed with that anyways. I smile at the thought of my mates and realize if this works, that I'll see them in no time. Who am I kidding, I'll see them before another day comes and goes. I laugh lightly, tasting a rough salty flavor on my tongue and I close my lips to lick them as I wipe my hand across my mouth, feeling it become wet. I look to my hand and find more freakin’ blood, I tasted blood. I rub my nose and find that the blood is coming from there as my heart hammers in my chest. Fuck. I close my eyes and rub the blood away only my charcoaled armor, still feeling it drip into my mouth. A bit longer, Jo. Relax. They'll be here any minute, they wouldn't have left the station unsearched, too many missing persons, too many bodies. Too much to learn from all of this. The reapers did too much damage and they will no longer be a threat to our cycle or an cycle after ours. No more will people live in fear like Javik does. No longer will we have to just wonder about them. They were real. They destroyed the Protheans, and everything they accomplished and stood for. We have saved one, and he was the Prothean to help end all of this. I gave my life once stopping them and like Garrus said, it only pissed me off. I destroyed the reapers and I plan to see what comes out this. I plan on settling down and retiring from this, even if I only have one leg after. I plan on watching the waves with a cup of coffee in my hand, Kaidan right beside me with his own. I plan on standing beside him for the rest of my life, and saying those vows in front of all of our friends, each and every one of them becoming a permanent part of our lives; a family until the end, when the end reaches us at the right times, not when the reapers say our time is up.

I plan on feeling my hair go white from age and reminiscing with him on our porch about the time we saved the galaxy with our best friends, the aunts and uncles to our children. We’ll have one or two, named after the friends and family we have lost. I want our son to have the patience and honesty of my father and the sense of humor that my brother once had. I want our daughter to have the strength of my mother, even though Kaidan will say she has my strength, I will fight with him to death over that. My mother was the strongest person I knew, my father the kindest. I want our children to have Kaidan’s heart though. I want them to feel as strongly for anything they do as their father does. He cares about anything he sets his mind to, and I want them to have his temperament. He can be so angry with me and still have the same calm tone of voice. God knows I've pushed that button a million times. I want to watch them hug and kiss him goodnight, tell them how much they love their dad. I want them to love him as much as I do, and not squander a second of that love. I wipe the tears that have rolled down my cheeks as I smile and close my eyes, seeing that warm smile behind my lids, hearing him call my name in my head. What I wouldn't give to wake up next to him every morning. What I wouldn't give to be by his side after a rough night of sleeping, whether I be consoling him or him consoling me. The nightmares are going to be the only battles we fight from here on out. No more guns, no more blood. I feel my fingers and toes grow warm, the warmth spreading through my whole body as my leg begins to go numb along with that warmth. No. I open my eyes, but my lids grow heavy as I do, my head feeling now as if it weighs three tons as I look down my side, blood pooling all over the ground along with the wound in my leg. It'll be okay. They'll find me. I just need sleep, for a bit. If I nap, I'll have energy to move and search for them while they search for me. I can't sleep though, if I sleep, I might not wake up. I look up at the gray sky, smoke billowing around me as I see something cut through.

Lights. Lights from a ship. I smile weakly as I look next to me to the torch, the fire burning just as weak as I feel and I grab it as hard as I can, throwing it on top of the fabric. I feels like slow motion as I watch the pieces of cloth burning, igniting the bushes under the cars as well as the fire licks at the exposed engine. I hear my stuttering breaths escape my gaped mouth as I blink slowly, covering my face with my forearm as the skycar exploding, the sound of it causing my ears to ring again as dark black smoke billows into the sky and I look up again. This time, I see more than one ship. I lean my head back, watching the sky as I realize I'm not feeling any pain. I should be worried, but I'm not. I know they'll find me now. Hell, it should've grabbed someone’s attention at least. They'll investigate, they have to. I the ships grow bigger in size as they grow closer. I count six of them, but there could be more that I just don't see, but one ship in particular is getting closer to me. Thank you, God. I smile, laughing weakly to myself. I did it. It's over, it's all over. The warmth of my body is almost that of a blanket, like someone knew I'd be cold and they tucked me into bed. They'll be here in seconds to collect me. I can close my eyes for a second. Just a second.

Something touches my leg and I scream, and it was definitely not in my head like I think it is. My chest burns as I do and my eyes fly open. “Holy shit. Shepard? Commander Shepard, can you hear me?” It sounds like they’re under water as I look at the unfamiliar face in mine, my vision a bit blurry as I blink hard, focusing on their face. Alliance. I grit my teeth and try to ignore the pain, shifting to stand as he touches my shoulder lightly to push me back down. “Fuck, she’s lost a lot of blood. Gant, move faster! Hold on, Commander, don't stand up, we’re getting you out of here.” I nod, slowly as my hearing starts to fade out again, my vision going blurry as the world starts to spin. Sleep, just let me sleep a bit more...I think I hear him call my name again, but I don't know….

#mass effect trash #story time with jen #mass effect #Shenko #female shepard x Kaidan #destroy ending #I'm sorry it's bad

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healthmasterlove-blog · 6 years

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jamaican black castor oil reviews | Jamaican Black Castor Oil reviews, photos, ingredients

I bought MANGO & LIME, cold-pressed Black Jamaican Castor Oil within an experiment, using read this on online. I bought a bathtub at a neighborhood drugstore and it was AMAZING. It utilized to moisturise my own hair AND skin. For my own hair it thickened my borders (and also my eyebrows) it maintained my hair moist plus it also climbed quite alot at per month. After the very first bath ended, I had been keen to acquire longer but couldn't find this at the shops. If my husband went towards the UK, I asked him to buy 2 baths that he finally bought on the web for me at the United Kingdom. He purchased it in the location referred to as #Afrocosmetics4u. If they came, the very best was sealed using cello tape that was somewhat strange. As soon as I started it, the petroleum had been full of miniature, white beads that, whenever you pressed on them didnt divide readily; nearly such as wax. The consequences of the remaining part of the bathtub was kind of weird; it appeared as if heated butter up. And when I rubbed it in my own skin, it had been kind of this consequences of the tiny beads simply remained on the top layer of the skin and hair. Its repellent to check at! The 2nd bath was nice. Its a remarkable solution, however I thought I'd print this inspection beause there which may possibly be imitation goods available on the marketplace. The package of 2 baths cost only under #20; therefore its not affordable. I am disappointed. Hopefully this can be an anomaly coz once I googled it have been not any additional complaints. Just FYI. I said I wouldnt choose the item back, but because of the only real option with this sort. I'd purchase the item. Just just easily could easily see it. Report Abuse danaylchan on 3/21/2017 2:27:00 PM More testimonials by danaylchan Age: 19 24 SkinCare: Combination, Tan, Maybe Not Sure Hair Black, Other, Other Eyes: Brown I actually don't utilize the Jamaican Black Castor Oil fresh but only periodic castor oil. I actually do a hair mask every fourteen days approximately. I'm attentive to just put castor oil onto the origins of my own hair (make it hard to scrub out) and also a combination of coconut and argon oil onto my middle and ending section. I leave it on night to get its most useful effect (a handful of hours will do nothing to get my own hair). It's annoying to scrub away, '' I shampoo it 23 days to totally get out it and ALWAYS state your own hair to stabilize the ph levels differently your hair wont feel so great as possible. My own hair always feels baby soft to the upcoming week. However in addition, it means that I get less divided ends. I additionally make use of a q tip to put only a bit in my lash-line and brows. My nude lashes do not look that different nevertheless once I put mascara, it's similar to an excellent lash afternoon daily. My lashes do not stick together so once I coating all of my superb thin baby lashes, so it seems great (I've Asian lashes also there is just so much castor oil could perform). I absolutely notice my eyebrow hair-growing more too! I'm thankful I naturally have fine brows to start with, just have a couple of of sparser areas, and that's where I set the oil. However, I do note I must maintain my own brows more regularly, that will be nice since I have pluck it. Report Abuse 2 of 3 people found that helpful. luyann on 3/16/2017 5:58:00 AM More testimonials by luyann Age: 25 29 SkinCare: Other, Maybe Not Sure Hair Other, Other, Other Eyes: Additional I've used castor oil off as a result of a busy program. I can easily see I've always been using castor oil together side olive oil mixed together identical components. 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Best of it all generally does not fade my own hair colour like coconut-oil. Finally I have already been using it in my lashes for the previous two months and have found a definite gap in the period of my lashes (they seem amazing with lashes on today where as earlier these were short despite having a couple of coats!) . Additionally my thin areas are currently filled therefore I've the complete lash-line. I've used this in my brows too however, maybe not noticed any gap. Total I am quite pleased with this. Report Abuse 4 of 4 people found that helpful. jna33 on 8/14/2016 9:24:00 PM More testimonials by jna33 Age: 56 & Over Skin: Oily, Fair, Cool Hair: Gray, Relaxed, Medium Eyes: Blue My aim for writing this review is to get the men or ladies over 65 who have realised they've loss in hair (because of aging) as in my own instance. I'd plenty of hair within my lifetime and on the previous 2/3 years now started to see sections of my entire scalp observable throughout my own hair. 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Report Abuse 22 of 22 people found that helpful. makeupbyasia on 8/14/2016 7:45:00 PM More testimonials by makeupbyasia Age: 19 24 SkinCare: Combination, Moderate, Maybe Not Sure Hair Black, Other, Other Eyes: Black I utilize this purely in my lashes as well as also my own hair. Perhaps not because its negative but only because that is where I believe it benefits me I think. For lashes: '' I apply in my lashes using a cotton bud (qtip for the US readers) For the own hair I utilize heated up side my freezer. I have to worry I've exceptionally thick rough Indian hair, I wouldn't suggest that this or nearly all the oil based products to the longer European textured hair styles since this may get your hair texture very tacky and tacky. My own hair absorbs a whole lot of oils. The smell differs but to be true maybe perhaps not what that is great for you will become perfumed, accommodated and played love nature at it's finest and also make a conscious attempt to utilize it in times at which it wont be observed by anybody out your house. I believe that this is very good, it works stinks for me personally and that I believe its a fantastic property remedy. Be openminded a number of these reviews sounded very dumb in my own opinion. Give all a reasonable shot estimating. All of us come here to seek out suggestions and hints. Let us not ridicule or defame 100% natural ingredients out of our mother earth if those opinions might put off someone of a item which can fix their own concern. Thank you for reading everybody else, stay amazing. xoxo Report Abuse 1-3 of 15 people found that helpful. Doodleses on 8/2/2016 11:59:00 AM More testimonials from Doodleses Age: 19 24 SkinCare: Dry, Fair, Neutral Hair: Black, Straight, Medium Eyes: Brown I have utilised the Shea Moisture JBCO and employ it using a angled liner brush into my lash-line. I really like how thick it really is! It readily dispenses and heaps onto the brush - no more yells everywhere - there exists a smoky, smoky odor . however, it becomes evident after it's about. It has just been a day or two of every application but my lash-line looks skinnier, blacker - like though I'd smudged on certain kohl! There are not any openings within my lashes. 1 thing is that I have absolutely had more attention crusties at the daytime along with also my lashes, even though more verdant, do feel tender... Overall that really is good for lash biloba! Report Abuse 2 of 2 people found that helpful. tealakes on 6/15/2016 9:08:00 PM More testimonials by tealakes Age: 30-35 SkinCare: Combination, Medium Brown, Maybe Not Specific Hair: Brown, Kinky, Medium Eyes: Brown It's my next jar of glowing isle JBCO also It's helped grow my borders. The outcome is much significantly more slow than awesome though! Still-growing baby hairs across my hair line however nolonger hairless like alopecia. It's thick and quite thick in consistency therefore I sometimes mix with avocado or coconut oil to lean the consistency out a little. I discovered that the skincare effect in my breasts after childbirth my baby. The smell isn't too sweet and so I used it in nighttime most times. Report Abuse 6 people found that helpful. vida009 on 5/2/2016 11:18:00 AM More testimonials by vida009 Age: 18 & Under Skin Care: Dry, Medium Brown, Maybe Not Sure Hair: Brown, Wavy, Medium Eyes: Brown Absolutely incredible, climbed back the hair on the hair-line immediately and made the others of my hair super-thick. I must combine this with coconut oil oil though, otherwise it's overly thick. I personally use both of these oils to get a scalp massage in addition to dispersing them across other hair until all is coated and leave it immediately with my own hair wrapped in a t shirt therefore it really brightens up. Read the full article

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tosybelle-blog · 7 years

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The Boys of Summer, Chapters VI-X

Now it’s morning but last night’s on my mind There’s something I need to get off my chest And no matter what may come to shine The dream will always be mine 311, All Mixed up

Jeff

I hopped on an airplane as soon as possible after graduation. If I could have, I would have left directly from the ceremony and skipped all the celebrating bull crap. I didn’t think it would ever happen, but I was actually happy to leave California this time—to leave behind all the gossip and hard feelings and misery.

Plus, I was headed to Byron. It doesn’t get any better than that.

I was pretty quiet on the plane ride. There was this pretty girl sitting next to me in the middle seat. She was a brunette with long, tan legs and a tinkly laugh. She kept trying to engage me in conversation, and at first I’d tried to flirt back with her, but it was just too exhausting. After a while I just pulled out the photo of Byron and me on the beach in Ogunquit and introduced him as my boyfriend. Vanessa had snapped it our last night there, after he’d come out to the whole town by standing on a picnic table and shouting.

This is something for which I am very proud of him.

Anyway, after that the girl lost interest. I was able to stare out the window and not think for a while. I watched the landscape change from desert to mountains to plains before I fell asleep. I only woke up because the flight attendant was shaking me. Everyone else had already left the plane.

Ever since I hit my teen years, my mom has let me get my own luggage and met me on at the curb with her car. So I went through baggage claim and waited on the sidewalk outside arrivals. And waited. And waited. My mom is notorious for being late, but it was starting to get ridiculous, even for her. I was beginning to think that maybe she’d been in a wreck.

To pass the time, I started watching the other cars go by. There was this one beat-up blue Honda that kept passing. After a few circles, I started counting, but after the sixth go- round, I lost track. A short time later, the Honda pulled up at the curb a ways ahead of me. A short young man with shaggy brown hair and mirrored sunglasses stepped out of the car. I barely noticed because I was looking for my mom again.

“Jeff! Jeff!” Someone was calling my name. I looked around and saw the young man jumping up and down and waving at me. He took off his sunglasses and I squinted into the sunlight at him.

It was Byron.

He ran my direction and started talking a mile a minute. “Your mom had a last minute client meeting, so she asked Mary Anne to come get you. But apparently, Mary Anne’s husband’s car broke down but he didn’t tell her that he took her car to work. So Mary Anne was all in a panic…”

He must have taken Haley’s drug of choice. I just watched him lethargically as he continued to relay the whole story of how he’d come to pick me up. He was wearing a pair of jeans that had seen better days and a plain gray t-shirt that read “SHS Honor Society,” but he’d paired it with a dazzling smile. Byron’s so serious most of the time that you sometimes have to work to make him smile. But that just makes the end result all the more worth it.

The smile faded as he got a good look at me. “Jeff? What’s wrong?”

I didn’t reply. Instead, I simply held my arms out to him. Byron had picked up one of my suitcases, but he instantly put it down and took a few steps to me, returning the embrace. I put my head on top of his and we just stayed like that for a moment. Finally, I murmured, “God, I missed you.”

He didn’t laugh and tell me we’d just seen each other last weekend; he just pulled me closer. “Tired?” he asked. I nodded and he let me loose, picking back up my suitcase. I grabbed my other bag and we headed back to the car.

So it turns out that the Civic is the car Byron shares with his brothers and sisters. The interior was pretty much what you’d expect from a car driven by five teenagers. The floors were littered with fast food wrappers and other junk and the seats were covered in crumbs. The cup holders and the areas around them were sticky and the air smelled of stale cigarette smoke. I made a face and Byron grimaced. “Mallory,” he said in explanation for the smell. “She seems to think the rest of us don’t notice.”

Byron put the car into drive and carefully merged into the traffic leaving the airport. He’s a very cautious driver and he hugs the speed limit, but I don’t mind. If you think about it, letting someone drive you somewhere is putting your life into their hands. I don’t think there’s anyone else I’d trust quite as much as Byron in that respect. I closed my eyes and we drove quietly for a while.

After a while we were on the highway heading back to good old Stoneybrook. I opened my eyes and watched the familiar road go by. “So, how’s school been?” I asked.

By had put the sunglasses back on, so I couldn’t see his eyes, but there was no mistaking the wrinkled nose. “Same as ever, except we have a lot more stuff due over the next few weeks,” he said. He then checked over his shoulder, put on his turn signal, and changed lanes.

“And how about the other kids?”

He took a deep breath and turned to look at me briefly before turning his attention back to the road. Byron held the breath so long that I thought he might die. Finally, he answered softly in a puff of exhaled air. “They’ve actually been better than I expected. A lot of kids came up to me after the article was published and told me they thought I was pretty brave, and I’ve actually had two kids come out to me. But I’ve also gotten a few who want to quote the Bible at me and a couple notes stuck into my locker calling me things I’d rather not think about.”

I had seen “the article.” A few days before, an envelope had arrived at my house, addressed to me. I didn’t recognize the return address although I knew who must have sent it; the name ‘Braddock’ on the address gave that away. Inside was a cut out newspaper article with a photo. Above the headline at the top of the page was a margin, where, in girly, loopy handwriting were the words, “Thought you’d like to have this. See you in a few weeks. Love, Hay.”

Quite frankly, the text was pretty much what I’d expected. It was a human interest puff piece, making something out of nothing. Byron and I went to prom together. The school hadn’t cared. The school district hadn’t cared. Most of the student body hadn’t cared. But someone at the newspaper cared and they’d written a story about it. Byron hadn’t wanted to talk to the reporter, but I’d answered a few questions.

I was beginning to wonder if this was a mistake.

I felt that way for several reasons. First of all, the story was pretty crappy and pointless. And second, I hadn’t even told my mom and stepdad I was going to prom with a boy in general or Byron in particular, and I know they must have seen the article as Richard reads the paper every morning without fail. The headline called us gay teens. I still don’t have a label on what I am, though most days I’m leaning towards bisexual. My dad didn’t react really well when I told him, and my stepmom just plain pretends I never said anything. I don’t know if, for Carol, it’s easier to play that I’m straight so she doesn’t have to deal with my dad’s unhappiness about it or if she’s just waiting for a definitive answer on my sexuality. If she is, she’ll have to keep waiting.

I was not looking forward to telling Richard I was dating a boy, but somehow I think him finding out from me would have been better than him finding out from a newspaper.

I changed the subject to something I knew would perk By up. “And how’s Haley doing?”

Sure enough, he smiled again. “Great! Getting together with Jordan has done wonders for her. She’s back to Happy Hay again.” He chuckled a little. “We got jobs working for the same place for the summer. She started a couple weeks ago and I start Monday after track practice.”

“Where’s that?”

Byron laughed again. “Girly Central. That’s not the real name, but that’s what Jordan called it when he found out where I was working.”

I raised an eyebrow at that. “And what is Jordan doing this summer?”

“Bussing tables. Apparently, that’s good, manly, straight guy work.”

We looked at each other for a second and it was my turn to laugh.

***

I must have fallen asleep again, because the next thing I remember was waking up as the car came to a stop in my mom’s driveway. “Morning, Sleepyhead,” Byron teased, giving a lopsided little grin. He cupped my chin with one hand and leaned in for a tentative kiss. By always starts off very timidly with his kisses, as if he’s afraid that they won’t be returned. I met his kiss and pulled him farther toward me. He grabbed my waist and basically climbed over the seat so that he was able to reach me better. I ran my hands up and down his side, shucking his shirt up in the process. I eased my lips apart and his tongue gently entered my mouth.

Byron might be inexperienced, but he’s a fast learner.

We had been in the driveway for about five minutes when he pulled back for a breather. “I feel sort of exposed,” he said as he pulled his shirt back down into place.

I cracked up. He was wearing way more clothes than you would at the beach and we were surrounded by the house and garage on two sides and by a hedge on a third. By look wounded for a moment. “No, I’m sorry,” I said as I struggled to catch my breath. “I know exactly what you mean. We could go inside, if you like.”

He went from hurt to horrified in ten seconds flat. “Inside your house? When are your parents getting home?”

I thought about that. Both Mom and Richard are self-employed these days and they come and go throughout the day. I wasn’t anxious for Richard to come in while we were half dressed. Or worse.

Come to think of it, I didn’t particularly want to have Richard come in while By and I were playing Parcheesi, either. I needed to talk to him and Mom before I subjected Byron to them. “Yeah,” I said with a sigh, “Maybe not a good idea today. But I’ll call you tonight and we’ll make some plans, okay?”

He lit up. “We,” he said, sounding amazed. “I like the sound of that.”

I laughed again. “You’ve heard the word before.”

He grinned back at me. “Yeah, but I’ve never been part of the ‘we’ before.”

I opened my car door and he jumped out his side. “Get used to it, my friend.” I paused as he popped open the trunk. “Or should I say my boyfriend?”

By’s blue eyes shone. “Yeah. I like that one.”

***

I walked into the empty house with my bags. I left most of my stuff at the bottom of the stairs without walking through the house or looking around, and headed straight to my bedroom. I felt as if there was no personality in the room—the space did not say Jeff. When Mom had first moved in, I’d been ten. It’d been done up in superheroes. As I’d outgrown the heroes, they’d been taken down and I hadn’t bothered to replace them with anything. I’d spent as little time as possible at Mom’s in the last few years, so it hadn’t mattered. Now, I wanted this room to feel like home. Like a place I wouldn’t be embarrassed to bring my friends.

Friends. I kinda felt the way about that word that Byron did about ‘we.’ I had friends back in Palo City, but Risa and I had played the “yours and mine” game when we’d split. Seeing as I hadn’t been in the best mind set back them—it was about two months later that I ended up hospitalized—a lot of people had chosen her side over mine. I could say that I had made headway in reforming those relationships, but it was nothing compared to the ease with which I always slid back into my friendship with the triplets. Now I could add Vanessa and Haley to my list of friends, too.

I opened my duffel bag and dug among the items I’d taken on the plane with me for something in particular. One item that had been in the room all these years was a bulletin board. It was covered in blue paper at this moment and not much else—though there was a picture of me, the triplets and their brother Nick from the day we’d decorated the room, taken by my stepsister. I left that up and gathered my envelop of photos and a bunch of thumbtacks. Up went a photo of me and my sisters, taken the day Gracie was born. Next to that went a photo of Gracie taken a couple weeks ago. I added a picture of a few of my Palo City friends making muscle poses at the beach and a couple pictures from spring break: Haley sticking her tongue out at the camera and the triplets and I standing under the sign at the teen club in Ogunquit.

I stepped back to take a look at the room as a whole. It needed a color overhaul. Everything was tan and white, like my stepdad had picked it out. Which, come to think of it, he probably had.

I was mentally deciding the cheapest way to add some color to the room when the front door closed and Richard’s voice came through the house. “Jeff? Are you here?”

I opened the door to my room, which I had closed out of habit. “Yeah. Up here.”

He appeared in the doorway a moment later. “You made it home successfully, I see. Mary Anne called me all in a tizzy.” Only Richard would use the word ‘tizzy.’ “But I was in meetings all day so I couldn’t get to the airport. Who ended up picking you up?”

“Byron.”

“Ah, I see.” Richard adjusted his tie and looked at the ground, distinctly uncomfortable. “And is Byron your boyfriend?”

I shifted, feeling awkward. “You could say that.” I had, in fact, said that earlier that day. Twice.

Richard still seemed uncomfortable, but he looked me straight in the eye. “Okay, then. Here are the rules. They’re the same ones Mary Anne had when she was your age.” He began to rattle off a list of pretty standard dad stuff: no overnight guests, no curfew but call if I’m going to be home after midnight, no boys in my bedroom when no one else is home. To my surprise, the rules were less strict than at Dad and Carol’s.

I gaped at him. “You mean,” I began, with the sense that I’d missed something, “You don’t have a problem with me dating a boy?”

His eyes widened. “No. Why would I?” He looked bewildered. “Are you happy? Are you healthy? Are you following the law? Then you have my seal of approval.”

I wanted to hug him, so I did. I think that surprised him more than anything else.

***

I helped Richard make dinner while we waited for Mom. I fried up some eggs and Richard chopped tomatoes and shelled some peas. We made fried rice, which we divided into two bowls. One bowl was for Mom and me; in the other, Richard added fried pork. This was for him. Also, Mary Anne and her husband, whom I’d met twice, once at their wedding, were stopping by later that evening to catch up with me and to eat leftovers.

Mom was home on the later side that night. By that time, I was practically drooling over the food, which was slowly cooling in the fridge. She gave me a hug and exclaimed over how tall I’d gotten. She does this every time she sees me, although I think this time she’d forgotten that it had only been a week since the last time I was in Connecticut.

We sat down for a quick and pretty quiet meal. Mom asked me how graduation had gone. She’d wanted to go to the ceremony, but I’d told her not to bother. I hadn’t even wanted to go. Plus, when she had gone to Dawn’s graduation, she and Dad had gotten into a big argument that the whole family, both sides, had witnessed.

It hadn’t been pretty.

So she’d grudgingly accepted my request for her to stay away. I promised to show her pictures when I got them and told her the whole thing, overall, had been pretty boring. Richard saved me from squirming under Mom’s evil eye by talking about the case he was working, in as much detail as he was allowed to share. I’ve found that when Richard speaks legalese, I just need to smile and nod, because I don’t understand any of it. I once made the mistake of asking him to explain something, but the explanation was even more confusing than the original statement, so I’d never done that again.

After we ate, Mom went upstairs to change into something more comfortable. I helped Richard clear the table and when we were done, I followed Mom to her bedroom. The door was open and she was in the master bathroom, brushing her teeth. I sat on her bed, waiting for her to come back out. She did a moment later, and she jumped when she saw me sitting there. “Jeff,” she gasped, “You scared me witless.”

If it had been anyone else, I would have told them they didn’t have any wits to begin with. Sadly, with my mom, sometimes I think it’s just a little too accurate, so I bit my tongue. Instead, I stretched out across the bed as Mom “tidied” things by moving items on her dresser around. After a moment or so I finally spoke up. “Mom, about prom…”

She smiled at me. “Did you and Byron have a good time? I saw your picture in the paper.”

Something was off here. This was not the response I was expecting. It was as if Mom and Richard had been replaced with alien lookalikes or something. Dad had been all rude and sarcastic about me dating a boy, and By’s parents had gone all concerned when he’d come out to them. “Um, yeah. We did,” I stammered, trying to figure out how to broach the subject in the way I wanted.

Mom turned around to face me. “I’m so glad. It’s good to see you happy again.” She sat down on the end of the bed. I was lying on my stomach with my head propped up, facing that way. “I don’t know why you didn’t just tell me you were going with Byron in the first place,” she said as she smoothed the quilt out in front of her with one hand.

Ah. That wasn’t the way I intended to broach the subject, but it worked. “I didn’t think you’d take it well,” I said, looking at everything but her.

Mom stared me down. “And why not?”

I shrugged. Even though I had wanted to get this conversation over with, it wasn’t exactly the most comfortable discussion I’d had all day. I’d had an easier time talking to Richard, for crying out loud. “Well, Dad didn’t take things well,” I began, “And I didn’t really have any answers for you. To questions you might ask, I mean.”

She looked alarmed. “What kind of questions?”

“You know. ‘Are you gay?’ ‘Is Byron your boyfriend?’”

Mom relaxed. “So you have no answers to those questions?” she asked.

I finally looked at her. “Sorta. I have no definitions for myself. My doctor says that’s okay, and that I don’t need to rush into a label if I’m not sure.” She nodded, urging me to go on. “And when you agreed to purchase some tickets for me, I would have said ‘no’ to the second question. But now….”

Mom rubbed my back, the way she used to when I was small. “Now you can say yes.” I nodded. “I know you’ve been having a tough time the last year or so. And I think anything that is going to help you be closer to the young man you were—stronger, maybe more self-aware—is a positive step in your life, and I support that.”

I turned back toward her again. “Why can’t Dad feel that way?”

Mom made a face, and after a moment I realized she was biting her tongue, both literally and figuratively. “I think your father is just uncomfortable with not knowing. He’s always preferred specific facts.” She sighed. “Maybe this is one time where it is best for you to just give each other some space. Give your father some time, and maybe someday you’ll have a few of the answers he’s looking for.”

I furrowed my brow. “Richard said he was okay with me and the way things are, but he also seemed really uncomfortable. I’m not going to run into problems with him, am I?”

She chose her words carefully. “Richard and I talked things over after that piece appeared in the newspaper. I don’t know if he’s…happy…for you, but he respects your right to date whoever you want. You won’t have an issue with him.”

That sounded strange. “Then why did he have such a hard time talking to me about it earlier when he gave me the rules?”

“I think,” Mom said with a small laugh, “he was a bit afraid of laying down the law for you. Dawn always had a problem with him setting boundaries with her when she was your age, and it became an ordeal after a while. I think he was just afraid you would follow in her footsteps.”

Before I could reply to that, the front door opened and a voice called out, “Hello! We’re here!” It was Mary Anne and Pete.

Mom looked at me. “Ready to go downstairs and probably answer some more questions that you don’t want to answer?”

I smiled. “Lead the way.”

So no of course we can’t be friends Not while I still feel like this I guess I always knew the score This is where our story ends Garbage, Cup of Coffee

Adam

This had been the most awkward cup of coffee I’d ever drunk.

When I’d arrived at Starbucks a few minutes after seven on that Thursday, Tiffany was already sitting at a table. She had the largest size of some iced drink in front of her, but she wasn’t drinking it. She was staring off into space and there was a paper napkin in front of her. Most of it was torn to shreds and she held the last little piece in between her fingers. “Tiff?” I called after I ordered my drink.

She looked up at me. In most ways, she looked the same as she had when we’d broken up three years before. Her hair was a little longer and her bangs a little shaggier than I remembered. The makeup was a little heavier, too. She wore a turquoise shirt that was so long sleeved that all that showed of her fingers were her fingertips with bright orange fingernails. Tiff had paired the shirt with a pair of extremely short white shorts. I’ve never understood why girls do that—wear tiny little shorts with long sleeves. Don’t their legs get as cold as their arms?

Back to Tiffany, though. Even though she looked good from a distance, I could see that not everything was alright. It wasn’t just the shredded napkin or the way one of her knees was shaking in a jittery way, like she had too much energy or nerves. What really gave me the hint was when she finally smiled at me and answered. “Hey, Adam,” she said, but she didn’t really look happy. The smile was brief and only hit her mouth. Tiff’s eyes were sad and tired.

I got my drink and joined her at the table. She watched me sit but didn’t say anything. “So…how are things?”

Tiff shrugged but stayed silent. I took a sip of my coffee and tried to come up with a topic of conversation. I mean, I didn’t know what Tiffany was into these days. When we’d dated, she’d been huge into gardening, to the point when there were times I’d kiss her just to shut her up on the topic. I decided to take a stab at it. “Still gardening?”

She shrugged a second time. “I won a couple awards last year at the county fair. But this year I’ve been so busy with school that I didn’t have a chance to plant.” For the first time since I walked in, her expression changed and she looked regretful. Ugh. Subject change time.

“So, you go to Stoneybrook University?”

A head shake. “No, the community college.” Tiff went back to twisting the napkin.

“Oh.” I didn’t have a reply to that that wouldn’t come out as condescending, so I took another sip of coffee.

She looked at me, one eyebrow raised. “What about you? Where are you headed next fall?”

I shifted uncomfortably. “Ohio University.”

“Ohio?” Tiff had finished shredding the napkin, so she dropped the confetti that was left over and played with the straw in her drink. “What’s so interesting in Ohio?”

“They have a business program. I’m hoping to get my MBA eventually.”

“Oh.” It was her turn to not know what to say.

We sat there looking at each other for a while, completely awkwardly. Tiff actually reached across the counter and grabbed my napkin and started shredding that.

I was getting ready to find an excuse to leave when Tiff spoke up. “Well, this is really awkward, isn’t it?”

Well, what could I say to that? It was true. I started laughing. Tiffany looked surprised for a moment, but when she realized I wasn’t laughing at her, she smiled for real, looking more like she had back in the day. “I’m so sorry,” she said.

I shook my head at her. “No, no, don’t be sorry,” I said, picking up my coffee again. Now that the ice was broken, I decided to go for it. “I came out for coffee with you because you sounded like you needed a friend when you called. Why don’t you tell me what’s up?”

I expected her to be defensive. Instead, she just sagged. “Where to start?” she asked. She picked up her drink and, for the first time since I sat down, actually took a sip. “Dad cheated on Mom, so she kicked him out. I never see him anymore, and she’s so busy that when I see her, she just barks orders at me and doesn’t actually talk to me.” I nodded. “I think I flunked algebra. I have no friends. My garden’s ruined. My boyfriend cheated on me…” she faded out.

I was a little surprised at the litany of woes. Life in the Kilbourne house always seemed like it was a little bit dysfunctional, but this was something else. “Wow,” was all I could think of to say.

She smiled another half-way smile. “I know, right?”

I looked at her orange fingernails as she resumed tearing the napkin. “What about your sisters?” I asked.

Tiffany rolled her eyes. “What about them? Shannon’s still the perfect daughter in every way. And Maria’s still super swimmer, plus she’s got this whole other group of friends from some club she joined at school. They don’t have time to talk with me.”

Here’s what you need to realize about Tiff’s sisters. They’re always really super busy. They got so thoroughly into their activities because things were so bad at home; I could tell that back when I was dating Tiff, and Maria even actually said so once. She was only about twelve or so at the time.

But to me there was more to Tiff’s statement than that. She reminded me of something Byron had said once. I’d actually been getting ready for a date with Tiffany at the time. Jordan had just left with a group of our friends.

Byron was sitting on the couch in the living room, sulking with a book when I’d come down to wait for Tiff. Mom and Dad had gone out for the night, and Vanessa (who was still in middle school and therefore still “normal”) was babysitting Claire.

Byron made a sound that was close to “harrumph” when I sat down. “What’s eating you?” I’d asked him.

He closed the book, which he hadn’t been reading anyway. “Everyone just went to hang out without me.”

I knew what he meant right away. Over the past couple months, ‘our friends’ had gone from meaning ‘the triplets’ friends’ to ‘Adam and Jordan’s friends.’ Some of the guys didn’t really like hanging out with Byron much those days. In a few cases, it had a lot to do with Dan Reiber and the trash he liked to talk. Freshman boys aren’t exactly known for their maturity. But most of the guys just thought he was kinda weird. He was quiet at school, and he would just sit and watch conversations instead of joining in. I knew that he was just taking things in and processing them, but some people found it a little creepy.

I turned to Byron, who looked both irritated and a little sad. “Well,” I began, trying to sound as diplomatic as possible, “when was the last time you invited any of them to do anything? Do you ever call Scott up and ask if he wants to come over? Or Robby or Shane or anybody?”

He grimaced and I could see I’d made my point. “Okay,” he said, “I get it.”

The doorbell rang and I jumped up. “It’s Tiffany,” I explained as I started toward the door. Byron had picked the book back up. I moved to continue our conversation, but Tiff leaned on the doorbell and there was no keeping her waiting. I left, regretting the things I hadn’t said.

I came back to the present and looked Tiff over. She looked as if she were moments from crying. "I bet,” I said slowly, “if you made time to talk to Shannon or Maria, they’d be willing to listen to you.” She rolled her eyes again and then rubbed her right sleeve across one eye, trying to stop the flow of tears. “Even if they don’t have time for you, I’m here. We can be friends, right? Having a friend would solve one of your problems.”

Tiff did one of those teary laughs that girls are so good at. “Oh, sure,” she said. “I’m sure you’ve got nothing better to do than sit around with your ex-girlfriend and listen to her cry.”

I reached across the table and put a hand on top of one of her jittery hands. “I’m here right now, aren’t I?” I asked. “And what are we doing now?”

Tiff pulled her hand back. “Okay,” she said, sniffling back a few more tears, “but can you really picture me hanging out with the rest of your friends?”

I stopped and actually tried to follow through with that. I thought about sitting in the pizza place with a group of my friends from the baseball team. There were usually several girls with us, and I was picturing one of them reaching over and touching Tiff’s top and asking her where she bought it, with Tiff laughing and the two of them blathering on about shopping afterward. I pictured her sitting on the couch watching TV with me and some of my brothers and sisters, everyone arguing over what to watch next and Vanessa throwing popcorn at the others, while Tiff decorated Vanessa’s hair with kernels of popcorn in return. I also imagined her sitting in the backseat of the car when I drove somewhere with Byron and Jordan (and maybe a few other people crammed in), making jokes and being a backseat driver. I didn’t see any reason why any of it couldn’t happen. “Sure. Why not?”

Tiffany looked surprised. She picked up her drink and toyed with it some more. The expression on her face gave away an internal debate, but I couldn’t tell exactly what was going on. Finally, she stood up and tossed her drink in a nearby trashcan, even though it was still mostly full. I stood up slowly and watched her as she swept most of the napkin confetti into one hand. I thought she was going to walk away without another word, but she turned back to me after she dumped the paper into the trash. “Walk me to my car?” she said.

For some reason, she’d parked four blocks away. I felt like we were halfway to her house by the time she stopped in front of a car, jiggling a key ring on one hand. “Adam?” she began before she unlocked the door.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. For everything.” Tiff reached over and kissed my cheek. I stopped her before she could pull away, putting a hand on each shoulder. Before I realized what I was doing, I pulled her back in for a kiss on the lips. It only lasted a few seconds, but that was plenty.

I let her go and looked at her, wild eyed. “I’m so sorry,” I said.

She smiled, looking legitimately happy for the first time all night. “Don’t be.” She grabbed the key fob and unlocked her car, opening the door behind her. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” she said as she sat down in the car. I watched as she put the key into the ignition. Before she started the car, she rolled down the window. “See ya, Adam,” she called as she drove away, leaving me on the sidewalk, not sure what had just happened.

It seems to me I could live my life A lot better than I think I am Rush, Working Man

Jeff

About a week after I arrived in Stoneybrook, Mom came home early and we went out shopping for bedding and accessories for my bedroom. Mom had been thrilled when I asked, I think because me redecorating meant I actually planned to spend enough time there for it to be worth it.

I had planned to just go to Wal-Mart, but Mom wouldn’t hear of it. She’s working as an interior decorator these days and I think she thought it would be the end of her career if someone found out her son’s bedroom was done up in Wal-Mart style.

So instead she took me to some bedding store in a new shopping strip that had sprung up since the last time I’d spent the summer in town. We’d headed straight to the comforters, where I’d picked out one in navy and burgundy rugby stripes. Mom had found a couple sheet sets and all the other bedding pieces that apparently are necessary, although I’ve never quite understood why someone needs a bed skirt or even quite what a euro sham is.

On the way out, Mom made me pick up a job application. She went into a couple of clothing stores in the area to do a little shopping and I sat outside and filled out the application while I waited. When she didn’t reappear after half an hour, I went ahead and turned the application in. Apparently, bedding and kitchen supplies is a big business. I got an instant job interview, left the store with a job in the receiving department.

And so I arrived at Kitchen & Bath at one in the afternoon that Saturday for my job orientation. The store was crazy busy, but I had been instructed to head to the customer service counter and introduce myself. The girl working the counter was a tiny blonde named Helen. I waited until she was not with a customer. “Hello. I’m here for orientation.”

She smiled. “I’m expecting a Lindsey and a Jeff,” she said, pushing stray hairs out of her face. “You must be Jeff.”

I smiled back. “Yup.”

“Well, I’m Helen, in case the name tag didn’t make that clear. I’m the front end manager. I’ll actually be running your orientation.” She glanced at her watch. “You’re a few minutes early, but in my book that’s a good thing. One of the cashiers is going to be running the counter for the afternoon, but he’s not back from lunch for about five more minutes. Why don’t you look around and I’ll call you back up here when he’s back and Lindsey’s here?”

I didn’t really want to look around; I was afraid of getting forgotten, quite frankly. Instead, I headed around the corner and started looking at bridal greeting cards. Who knew there were so many different reasons to get a card for someone getting married? I got tired of that after about two minutes. I came around the corner from behind the cards, planning to look at the merchandise next to the customer service counter and I ran smack into Byron.

He looked surprised, but in a good way. “Hey, Jeff! What are you doing here?”

Before I could answer, Helen came around the corner with a sturdy, tall girl with dishwater hair that I guessed must be Lindsey. “Byron, good timing! I’m just about to start orientation. Lissa will be joining you up here in half an hour, and Morgan will be in to relieve you at five.” I gaped as she talked to Byron like an old friend…until I realized he was wearing a Kitchen & Bath nametag. This must be what Jordan called Girly Central.

Helen barreled on, not noticing my surprise. “Have you met Lindsey and Jeff? Lindsey’s taking over Hay’s old spot in towels, and Jeff’s in receiving.”

Byron smiled at the other girl. “Nice to meet you, Lindsey,” he said.

Helen eyed him critically. “You and Jeff already know each other?”

I grinned. “You could definitely say that.”

By ducked his head and I knew he was blushing as he rubbed his hand across his forehead. Before I could say any more, he looked over my shoulder. “Customers waiting. I’ll call if I need backup.” And with that, he scurried away.

Helen looked at me oddly. “What’s with him?” she asked. “Never seen him behave like that before. There’s a good reason that he’s only been here a week and I’ve already got him running the counter. You guys good friends?”

It was my turn to blush a bit. “Yeah. You could say that,” I repeated.

Lindsey looked around as we walked down the aisle toward the back of the store. “Whoa, bride central,” she said as we walked into a large area full of fancy dishes and gifts made of breakable materials.

Helen beamed. “This is our new fine table department that we just opened a few weeks ago. Our bridal consultants work out of here. Most of them are on the older side and have been married for a while, although there are a few exceptions.”

It was then I discovered how big of a loudmouth that Haley can be. She came barreling out of nowhere and enveloped me in a big hug. “Jeff! Are you here to see your sweetie?” Hay let me go. While most of the employees were wearing jeans, sneakers and casual shirts—even the managers like Helen were in relaxed attire—Haley wore a pair of pinstriped pants, black shoes and a white blouse. Her name tag said ‘Hay.’ “He just got back from lunch and I think he’s working customer service for the rest of the day, but I bet you could get a chance to say hi if you stopped by up there…”

Haley suddenly realized that Helen and Lindsey were staring at us; she quit smiling as Helen stepped forward. “Hay? Don’t you have a bridal couple to attend to?”

Haley backed away. “They’re taken care of for the moment,” she said, almost meekly, but when Helen didn’t stop staring at her, she continued to back up. “Maybe I’ll just go check on them anyway…” Hay added, almost running off.

Helen diplomatically pretended she hadn’t heard anything Haley said. She continued giving Lindsey and me a tour of the store as we headed back into the room for orientation. We got into the back room and Helen had the two of us take a seat and start filling out employee paperwork. “I’m going to get you two name tags and lockers while you’re working on those. Let me know if you need anything.”

Almost the second Helen left the room and the door closed behind her, Lindsey looked up from her papers. “That guy at the customer service counter…was he your boyfriend?”

I didn’t stop filling out my forms or look at her. “Yup.” I could feel her eyes still on me so I gave her more information, knowing she wouldn’t stop until she got what she wanted. “He only started work about a week ago and I didn’t know he was working here. This was just the first place I applied.”

Lindsey went back to her papers but had a thoughtful look on her face. “You know, he looked really familiar,” she said. “I lived in Stoneybrook until a couple years ago and I feel like I’ve seen both your boyfriend and your friend before. Name Byron sounds familiar too.”

“Hmmm.” I said, noncommittally.

Before Lindsey could go on, Helen returned. “Almost got those done? Good! When you’re finished, put on your name tag and I’ll start you into the boring videos…”

***

At five, we got a lunch break—although I’ve never understood why they call it lunch at dinner time. Lindsey and I got to play with our lockers for a few minutes before we clocked out, trying to get the combinations to work. I was having a little trouble with mine, because it felt like someone had stuck gum in the mechanism. After Lindsey left, I was still trying to get mine to open when a wave of people came through the door, getting ready to go home. Haley was near the back of the pack. She snuck up behind me, though I’m not sure on purpose. “Need some help with that thing?” she asked, making me jump.

“Geez, Haley,” I wheezed, “Is today Give Jeff a Heart Attack Day? Or is it Make Jeff Die of Embarrassment Day?”

She blushed a little. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were here for orientation. Why didn’t By tell me you’d gotten a job here?”

“Because he didn’t know. I also didn’t know you two worked here.”

Haley smiled a bit. “Okay, then. I am sorry, you know. But I guess now we’re even for that time back in Ogunquit.”

I remembered how I embarrassed the hell out of her by telling everyone she’d been making out with Jordan. “Oh, yeah.” I finally got the lock to pop open. “Success! Has By come through here yet?” The room had cleared out, but I hadn’t seen him.

Hay shook her head. “I think Morgan’s late again, and he can’t leave till she gets here or someone else relieves him. Why don’t you go clock out and I’ll treat you to dinner? We’ll eat with you before we go home.”

I stopped in the doorway to the break room. “Two more things.”

She didn’t look up from her own locker. “Shoot.”

“Why does your name tag say Hay?”

Haley looked at me over her shoulder. “There are already two other Haleys, and they don’t call them by their last names or by first name-last initial. They go by spelling. I didn’t want them spelling my name every time they needed me, so I asked that everyone just call me Hay instead.”

I nodded. “Okay, makes sense. So what’s the deal with Helen? She seemed really nice until we ran into you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That,” she said with a sigh, “is a much longer story. Over dinner? At Papa Sandwich? You ever eat there? You’ll love it; they put sprouts on all their sandwiches. Jordan is working tonight, so I need time with the boys.” Haley looked reflective for a moment. “The other boys.”

I grinned at that. “I’ll meet you and Byron up front in a minute.” Before I wrote my time on the clock in sheet, I thought about Kitchen & Bath for a moment. I’d only been working there for four hours and I’d already run into a hornet’s nest full of drama. The real question was whether By and I working in the same store was going to be an issue.

I clocked out and headed to meet my friends in the front of the store.

Can you remember what you’re looking for Was it the answer of love? Can you tell me where you’re coming from Protect the naked life Mob Rules, Unknown Man

Vanessa

I was sitting in the waiting area of the department of motor vehicles, waiting to take the driving portion of my license test. I had just turned seventeen a few days earlier.

I was scared shitless.

I had been waiting alone for about ten minutes when he showed up. Dad has some goofy-ass rules, and one of them is that, if you’re old enough to get your license, you’re old enough to do everything that is involved in getting the license all by yourself. It actually kinda makes sense from a dad point of view. But, while I generally don’t really look to my parents for much, I’d almost had the urge to yell, “Daddy, don’t go!” when he walked out of the DMV.

Almost.

So enough about my dad. I have to tell you about this guy. I didn’t even notice he had sat next to me at first because I was too busy doing shit like trying to remember which one was the blinker and which was the windshield wiper on my dad’s SUV. I was looking down at my hands while I was thinking and suddenly this face appeared in front of me and surprised me. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” he asked.

I jumped, and it wasn’t just because he’d scared me. I mean, yeah, that was part of it. But the other part was he was absolutely gorgeous. Haley, back before she started hanging out exclusively with gays, would have called him Hottie McStudly. He had an olive complexion, with dark hair and eyes. His eyes were set just the right distance apart and they danced as he spoke. He had an easygoing expression and you could tell from the little lines in the corners of his eyes that he smiled a lot. And his mouth…well, let’s just say that I wanted to kiss him and I didn’t even know him. He could have been a lip model if such a thing existed. Not only were his lips luscious-looking but they were unchapped and much more manicured than most boys I know keep theirs.

I’m starting to babble, but I just want to make sure you understand how good looking this guy was. I had to seriously double check and make sure I wasn’t drooling before I answered him. “Um,” I said helpfully. I swallowed and gave him a more coherent response. “I’m sure we haven’t met, because I know I’d remember you.”

Mystery Guy raised an eyebrow to that one. “I think you’re wrong,” he replied.

I stared him down, trying to recognize him. “Maybe,” I said slowly, “I’d remember where we’ve met if you told me your name.”

He began to look mischievous, and the expression suited him. “Nope,” he said firmly. “It’s way too much fun, watching you squirm as you try to figure out where you’ve seen me before.” He snapped a rubber band around his wrist and I got a good look at his clothes for the first time. He wasn’t wearing anything spectacular, just a t-shirt in dark green and a pair of camo pants. I’d never thought much of camo before, but suddenly, it was my new favorite thing. The guy spoke again. “As for me, I may not remember your name, but I do know where we met. And no, I’m not going to tell you that either.”

I rolled my eyes at him, trying to pretend I wasn’t that into him anyway. He grinned back and shifted one leg up onto the other knee so that his toe was pointed at me. “This your first time taking the test?” I nodded. “It’s my third. I keep fucking up the driving part. My dad told me…” He put on his best stern Dad expression and although his voice was already pretty deep, he made it deeper. “…‘You screw up again and you have to wait another year before I let you take the test again.’ I’m not really that scared, because he loves to threaten and then not follow through. And even if he does actually keep his empty threat, I’ll just get my mom to take me instead.”

My eyes were pretty wide by that point. “You’ve failed three times?” I asked.

The guy got indignant. “Not three times! No, I’ve failed twice. If I fail again, it’ll be three.” For a moment he got deadly serious and I could see that he was actually worried he might not pass again this time.

I wanted to offer some words of comfort. I wanted to say something soothing. Hell, I would have even settled on asking for his phone number so I could call him and find out how it had gone. But before I had a chance, a woman came out of a back office. “Vanessa Pike?” she called. I jumped up.

The guy looked triumphant in learning my name. “Good luck, Vanessa Pike,” he called, “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

I turned back to the guy and opened my mouth, ready to speak, but the woman spoke up again. “Miss Pike,” she said impatiently, “I haven’t got all day.”

I took a deep breath and followed the woman. When I met my dad an hour later, I had my license in my wallet. “Did you get it?” he asked.

I was still thinking about Mystery Guy. “Nope.”

Dad furrowed his brow. “Don’t worry. We’ll practice some more. You’ll pass next time.”

I shook myself out of my boy-induced haze. “What?”

“Your license. I’m sure you’ll pass the second time.” Dad looked at me like I was nuts.

I opened my wallet and flashed it at him. “What are you talking about?”

Dad raised his eyebrows. “What are you talking about, Vanessa?”

I shook my head. “I think,” I said, “that you’d rather not know.”

I just had to find that guy again.

Now that I’m filled with emotion you’re dispassionate You only live for yourself while I live to regret But don’t ever think that I could easily forget The Posies, I May Hate You Sometimes

Haley

I’m still not quite sure how it happened.

I really thought that a triplet date would be a good idea, when Jordan first broached the idea to me. He didn’t seem really thrilled about it, though. At first I thought it might be residual bad feelings over the Byron/Jeff thing, but I soon changed my mind. And it was By who changed it.

I was between customers in the bridal department, so I had been sent to clean the front doors. By was pricing candy at the registers. He looked up at me and smiled. “You and Jordan get sucked into this date thingee, too?”

I made a face. “Date thingee?” I repeated.

By wrinkled his nose. “You know what I mean. Me and Jeff and Adam and Tiff and you and Jordan?”

I wiped at the window, looking the other way. “I knew exactly what you meant. I was just making fun of your amazing word skills.” He didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he dumped a bin of candy onto the counter and began putting the new chocolate bars on the bottom. Sometimes, razzing By is not as fun as it should be. He’s figured out that he’s way more irritating to me if he doesn’t react in any way, so he just pretends not to hear anything I say. “Okay then. So who is Tiff, exactly?”

By sighed. “Adam is apparently attempting to get back together with his ex. I’m not quite sure why. She totally broke his heart back in the day, though he wouldn’t admit it.” He’d put all the candy back in the bin and started on the next box.

I stopped wiping and looked over at him. “So…I’m guessing you didn’t like her much, then?”

He looked thoughtful. “I wouldn’t say that. I didn’t know her very well, so it’s hard to like or dislike her.” Damn him. He’s always so diplomatic. “I will say, however, that I didn’t like what she did to Adam. But that was three years ago. If Adam’s willing to give her another chance, I am too.”

“You are such a Pollyanna,” I said as I took one last swipe. “Oh, the sky is so blue. Oh, I’m going to give everyone another chance.” I threw the dirty paper towel away in the trashcan behind By’s register. He threw a Snickers bar at me. “Watch it,” I warned. “Those things are lethal.”

“I’ll get you one of these days,” he threatened.

I repeated my Pollyanna voice. “Oh, I am so scared!”

***

And so Jordan and I found ourselves standing outside Pizza Express the Friday before exams started. He was wearing a pair of jeans that looked like they were a size too big and a pair of ratty sneakers that I’ve heard that his mom has tried to throw away…several times. I don’t date Jordan for his fashion sense. He’d paired those clothes with an old t-shirt that was my favorite of his—but not because it was any more fashionable than anything else he wears. He was wearing it the day we first kissed, and after we got back from Maine, he loaned it to me. I slept in it for a week before I gave it back to him.

It was a little chilly that night and I’d stupidly decided to wear a tank top and a pair of capris. “Ugh!” I moaned. “It’s the middle of June. Why is it so freakin’ cold out?”

Jordan laughed. “To mess with your pretty little head.” I bopped him on the arm with one of my icy cold hands and he pulled me into a big bear hug. “This is snuggle weather,” he explained.

I burrowed into his armpit where it was nice and warm. “Snuggle? You are such a girl.”

He laughed again. “No, I am definitely a guy. Would you rather be doing this with a girl?” And then he kissed me.

We were still kissing when Adam walked up. “Okay, okay. Break it up you two, or I’ll turn a hose on you.”

“Ugh!” I shivered as we broke our kiss. “Adam! This is not a wet t-shirt contest, so keep your hose to yourself.” Both Adam and Jordan looked at me funny and then started laughing. “That’s not what I meant.”

Jordan gave Adam a high five over my head. “So, where’s Miss Hot Stuff?” he asked.

Adam grimaced. “You’re not going to say stuff like that to her, are you? You’re not going to make fun of her to her face all night?”

Jordan made a “who, me?” face. “No,” he said, “I plan to make a subtle mockery of her while she’s here and then make fun of her ‘like that’ behind her back after she’s left.”

Adam looked disgusted but I laughed. “Jordan,” I fake-chided, hoping to find something humorous to add. Before I could come up with anything witty enough, a model of a girl came walking up.

The girl was tall and skinny, with long blonde hair. She had high cheek bones and a delicate face shape. Her hair was immaculately done and her makeup was perfect. Her clothes looked like they came from a fancy boutique—or a fashion magazine. They probably cost more than my whole wardrobe put together.

Somehow, I knew right away she was Tiffany.

She made me feel like—well, like a child in comparison. She was tall and willowy, almost as tall as the triplets, with decent sized boobs. I’m a little over five feet and can barely scrape up a b cup. Not to mention that my clothes, instead of coming off a runway, come from the kids’ department.

Adam greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. “Hey.”

“Sorry I’m late.” She flashed a million-watt smile.

He returned the grin. “You’re not late; you’re right on time.”

Tiffany turned to Jordan and me, standing just a few feet away. “Hi, Jordan,” she said with a small waggle of her fingers.

Jordan took one hand off my back and waved it in a big arc, vaguely in Tiff’s direction, but he didn’t say anything. Adam glared at Jordan, but he just put his hand back and pulled me closer.

As for me, well, no one had introduced me to Tiff, so I said nothing. My teeth were starting to chatter. If it had been socially acceptable, I would have climbed up into Jordan’s shirt with him.

If looks could kill, Jordan would have been dead by then. I think that if half the school— and Tiff—hadn’t been there, Adam would have gone off on Jordan. Instead, he composed himself and said, “Tiff, have you met Jordan’s girlfriend, Haley Braddock? Haley, this is Tiffany Kilbourne.”

I thought about what By said about Adam giving Tiff another chance. I looked at her. Despite her glamour, she was kinda hunched over, biting a fingernail. She looked insecure and unsure. I smiled at her, hoping it would help. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”

She smiled back tentatively, looking instantly a little bit relieved. “You, too.”

Adam had stopped glaring at Jordan, but he still looked anxious. “Where the hell is Byron?” he asked. “He’s never late. You can set your watch by him most of the time.”

I snorted back a laugh, mostly because it was true. Tiff raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I need to explain,” Adam said, turning away from me and toward her. “Our little crew here is a bit…incestuous.” Jordan made a sound along the lines of “pshaw” and Adam turned back to us again. “Not literally, of course. Pervert. Anyway…” His head ping-ponged back to Tiffany. “See, Haley is Byron’s best friend. And our childhood best friend, Jeff, is dating Byron now.”

“Speak of the devils,” Jordan said, looking over Adam’s shoulder. Byron was hurrying down the sidewalk. He had Jeff by the hand and he was practically dragging him behind him. Jeff was not at a good angle for me to see him, but By looked agitated.

The two of them came a little bit closer and I got a look at Jeff. He looked sullen and petulant, and he was clearly unhappy that By was pulling him along like a child. Then again, something about his expression made me think of a toddler about to throw a tantrum, so maybe Byron had the right idea.

“Sorry we’re so late,” By said, letting Jeff go. He went over to Tiffany and gave her a one armed hug, which she gratefully returned. “How are you, Tiff?” he asked. She smiled at him and shrugged. “This is Jeff,” he said, taking Jeff’s hand again, more gently this time. “He’s my…” By trailed off, looking unsure.

Jeff tried to school his annoyed expression, but he wasn’t too successful at it. “Boyfriend,” he finished. “You can say the word. It won’t hurt.”

By pursed his lips, and for a second I thought he was going to direct an insult Jeff’s way. Instead, he shrank a little bit and let go of Jeff’s hand. “Boyfriend,” he repeated.

I looked up at Jordan, interested in his take on the display in front of us. He shrugged at me, but took a bit of control of the situation. “Can we head inside? Haley’s just about cold blooded and I think she’s freezing her ass off.”

Byron poked my arm with one warm finger. “Maybe if you wore enough clothes for the weather, you wouldn’t have this problem.” I noted that both he and Jeff were wearing jackets.

“Good advice, Dad,” I said with a roll of my eyes. Jordan laughed, and after a second, Adam and Byron joined him, followed by me and Tiffany. Even Jeff smiled a little bit.

Jordan let me go and opened the door. “After you,” he said to the group in general.

I walked in, with Tiffany right behind. The guys followed. Jeff was right in step behind Adam and Tiff, and the three of them walked over to the menu board. Jordan let the door go and smoothed down my hair as he passed. “Honey, you coming?” he asked.

I nodded. “Give me a second.” Jordan nodded back and threw a glance over at By, who was still standing blocking the door.

I grabbed By by the arm and pulled him out of the doorway. “What is going on?” I asked.

“Hay…” By looked like he was about to cry, but he just shook his head. “Later, okay? It’s nothing. Just a little disagreement.”

I wrinkled my brow. “Let me guess. Jeff said something and you blew it out of proportion and got all ass-hurt about it. Then, instead of telling him how you felt, you said something without thinking and Jeff got all ass-hurt about that. Am I close?” He didn’t reply, but the look on his face said it all. “Oh, By,” I said, and I squeezed his arm. “Just wait until you two leave tonight and tell him you’re sorry. He’ll get over it.”

He sniffled. “This whole night sucks already, and now we have to sit down and play nice so Adam can prove to Tiffany that we don’t hold a grudge against her.”

I bit my lower lip. “We better get to that part, then. Get it over with.”

When By and I joined the group, they were all discussing pizza toppings. Adam turned to us. “Please, you two, break the stalemate. We’re thinking two pies, but we can’t decide what to get on each. Any input?”

I walked past Jordan to where Jeff was trying to hide. I slid my arm around his and gave a tug, gently pulling him into the discussion. “Two? Are you kidding? Byron can eat a whole pizza by himself. Better make it three.”

By made a face, but everyone else nodded. “Okay, that will work,” Adam said thoughtfully. “One with peperoni for Tiffany and whoever else wants that. One fully loaded. And one with…Jeff, what are you thinking?”

Jeff shook his head. He no longer looked ready to toss a fit, but instead, tired and emotionless. “Whatever. Cheese. Veggies. Whatever,” he repeated, his voice flat.

I smiled at him. “How do you feel about mushrooms?” He shrugged but didn’t protest.

“Oh, yeah,” Adam piped back up. “I’d forgotten about Haley’s obsession with fungus ‘nads. Always have to have some mushroom slices.” I wrinkled my nose at the gonad reference but said nothing. “Okay, are we ready, then? Let’s order and see if there are any seats left.”

The guys all got in line, but they nominated Tiffany and me to go find seats. It had been decided that “the men” would pay and split it evenly, and I had been dying to see who out of Byron and Jeff was going to pay, but I walked off with Tiff instead.

There was only one table free, and when we got to it, Tiff made a face. I thought at first that she was unhappy with the fact that the table hadn’t been bussed and there were a few wrappers and crumbs on it, but that notion went away before we ever got our pizzas.

Adam cruised by with two cups, one of which he handed to Tiff. “Come pick your poison with me,” he said, and he dragged her off the bench by her free hand. She laughed and joined him.

And so I found myself sitting alone at the table. I started to get impatient because I worried they’d forgotten about me. What about my drink, dammit? Jeff was the first one back, and he seemed to be skirting By as much as possible. “Jeff,” I said in a low voice, “What did he do that’s got you so upset?”

Jeff put his head down on the filthy table. “Ugh,” he said. He left his head down for a moment, and then looked at me. “Nothing that terrible,” he admitted, “but it totally came out of nowhere.”

I was about to reply when By and Jordan joined us at the table. Jordan held a cup out in front of me. “Half lemonade, half 7Up. No ice.”

I beamed, my irritation over being left behind forgotten; he’d remembered my drink preference. “Thanks!” Jordan slid onto the bench next to me and put his own cup down. He was so close I could hear his heart beating, and he put a hand on my back. Byron sat down across from Jordan. Before Jeff knew what was happening, By draped his arm around Jeff’s neck and put his face into the hollow between Jeff’s shoulder and head. Jordan and I pretended to look the other way for a moment. Some words must have been exchanged, but I never heard a thing. I just saw Jeff lean over a little bit and kiss By’s forehead, and I knew they’d be alright. At least for the rest of the night.

Adam and Tiff returned a moment later. Adam strategically sat next to Jordan, putting a friendlier Byron next to Tiff. He looked over at By and Jeff and raised his eyebrows but didn’t say a word. Byron sat up straight but kept his arm on Jeff. “So…” he said, hoping to start a conversation.

We didn’t get a chance to find a topic. We were interrupted by a spate of noises from the booth in the corner, just two tables away. It sounded like a group of geese honking, only three times as loud. Jeff and Byron briefly turned around, but seemed largely unconcerned about the sounds. Tiff, on the other hand, lingered more on the group of teens making the noises. She looked annoyed. “What asylum did they escape from?” she asked.

I felt my whole body stiffen. “They didn’t come from an asylum,” I hissed. I reached across Jordan and tapped Adam’s shoulder. Without a word, both brothers got up, and I walked over to the other table.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Tiff watching me. I reached the table and touched one of the boys sitting there on his shoulder. “What’s she doing?” I heard Tiff ask Adam.

The boy turned around and grinned at me. He greeted me, his fingers flying. I gave him a small hug and returned the greeting and spoke to the table at large without saying a word. “That’s her brother,” Adam said, pointing to the boy I’d hugged, “and he’s deaf. I’m guessing all his friends are, too.”

I didn’t get to see Tiff’s face, but she didn’t respond verbally to that. After learning that Matt and his friends had just come from a soccer game where they’d kicked the other team’s ass, I returned to my table. Adam and Jordan stood again to let me back into the booth. I looked at Tiffany. She seemed absolutely mortified. I was ready to make some kind of nasty statement, but after looking at her, I bit back all my comments.

Tiff was making it hard to continue to be nice to her, however. It seemed like every time she opened her mouth, she said something designed to annoy. There was a crack about health food “nuts,” for starters. Jeff, who seemed to have made up with Byron but was still quieter and more reserved than I was used to seeing him, winced when she said that.

Then, when talk turned to school, Tiff mentioned how she’d barely scraped through high school. “Both of my sisters just about kill themselves over tests and assignments. I’ve never understood that. People who spend that much time studying really need to get a life.” I turned to Byron, who had just found out he was going to be salutatorian of the class of 2004. He’d earned that title not because he’s way smarter than the rest of us, but because he works his ass off. He was looking at his lap, his eyebrows knitted together.

I kept waiting for Adam to say something. I know he was desperate for the night to go well; every time Tiff made some kind of inadvertent social blunder, he changed the topic. But yet, he kept letting her talk.

Jordan, who had either changed his mind about Tiff or was as desperate as anyone else at the table to keep things from going into the crapper, asked her about college life right as the pizza arrived. She didn’t answer right away; there was a flurry of activity as pizzas were shifted around and slices found their way onto plates. The mushroom pizza ended up right in front of me and Jeff, which is exactly where it needed to be. I found that I was starving and crammed three slices onto my plate. I’d eaten almost an entire slice by the time that I realized that Tiff had taken just one piece of pizza, which she was picking at slowly. Was that normal female behavior? I’d spent my teen years surrounded by boys. I put the piece down and watched Tiff for a while. She took a delicate bite of pizza and then answered Jordan’s question.

“Well, I don’t live on campus or anything since I go to the community college. But it’s pretty similar to Stoneybrook U other than dorm life and Greek life. I mean, we have clubs and sports and things. I never really got into that. One of the biggest clubs there is the Campus Crusade for Christ. It’s just a bunch of kids loving on Jesus. Not really my scene.”

Jordan looked down at his pizza for a moment, and I waited for him to mention to Tiff that he’d spent the last four years as a member of a club just like that, but he kept his mouth shut. It was then that it dawned on me—Jordan wasn’t going to defend that lifestyle to the others because they didn’t know he was part of it. I was probably the only person at the table to know that he’d taken a purity oath. As much I thought it was pretty lame to be embarrassed of your choice to be religious, I couldn’t say much about it. I’d supported By through three years of me knowing he was in the closet without saying a word. It wouldn’t be right to comment on Jordan being in the Jesus closet.

I spoke up anyway. “I hear those groups can be really supportive. You know, when you’re going through bad times.” Jordan flashed me a grateful smile, which I returned. I picked up my piece of pizza and finished it. Jordan liked me just the way I was, even if I ate like a pig. Why should I worry what Tiffany thought?

“That’s probably true,” Tiff acknowledged. “Although, the SCC club’s president was involved in a giant scandal, I guess. As far as Christian-group drama goes. Apparently, just a couple months after she and a group of kids made a whole big show of making virginity pledges, she turned up pregnant. There was this whole mess going on all year long because of that.” I took a sip of my drink and was playing with the straw with my free hand when Tiff started talking again. “She got booted out as president and then out of the club altogether. If I were her, I’d just have told them I got raped. Would have solved the whole problem.”

I dropped my cup on the table. The lid fell off and fizzy lemonade went everywhere. Everyone jumped up to grab napkins or get out of the way of the waterfall of drink. One of the triplets shouted, “Watch it, Haley!” but I didn’t catch which one. I barely heard him. I was vaguely aware that there was a puddle growing on my lap. I kept my eyes on Tiff, who, like the boys, was looking at the mess on the table.

Only By was watching me, though I wasn’t even aware of it at the time. I stood up. “That’s it. I’ve had enough of this,” I said angrily, still looking directly at Tiff. She stopped trying to clean up the spill, and stared at me, bewildered.

Jordan’s eyes were like saucers. “Haley,” he said warningly, but I’d already crossed the line and there was no going back.

“You have no idea,” I said venomously, directly to Tiff. “You think being raped is a joke? You think it’s funny?” Adam backed unconsciously out of the booth and stood next to Tiffany, leaving only Jordan holding me into the booth. He put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged it off. “I wouldn’t wish a rape on my worst enemy. And right now, you’re not too far off from there.”

I tried to leave the bench, but Jordan put himself bodily between me and the exit. “Haley…” he repeated, this time more soothingly. He sounded concerned and his eyes were sad.

I was in mid-flight and there was no stopping me. “Get out of my way, Jordan,” I said, smacking at his arm. He pulled his arm away, looking wounded, and moved out of my path. I stalked out of Pizza Express without a backward glance.

I didn’t realize Jordan was following me until I was about a block away. By that point I was sobbing pretty hard. He reached out and put a hand on my back. I knew instantly that it was him by the nature of the touch. I stopped walking and stopped fighting and let him pull me into a hug.

We stood there silently like that until the tears subsided and I was all cried out. I regained my breath and waited for Jordan to chew me out. Instead, he just squeezed me tight. “Aren’t you cold?” he asked.

I still had tears on my eyelashes; he wiped them away with one hand. “And wet.”

“We’d better get you home, then.”

We had walked to the restaurant, which I now regretted. It was dark now and even colder than when we went in. Even Jordan was shivering now, and it didn’t matter how close he held me, I couldn’t seem to get warm.

When we arrived at my house, the lights were out and Daddy’s car was gone. Jordan looked at the dark windows. “Your parents went out?”

“I guess.”

Jordan frowned. “You’re all wet. Go inside and get changed. I’ll be out here when you’re done.”

I hated leaving him freezing on the stoop, but he’s not allowed in the house when no one else is home, and my pants were nearly frozen. I ran in through the house to my bedroom, where there had been an explosion of clothes earlier in the day. I found a clean pair of jeans and a pink and yellow plaid shirt that I threw on, and headed back downstairs.

I headed for the coat closet at the front of the house and pulled out two jackets: my favorite fleecy hoodie and a like-new jacket of Matt’s that he never wears. On the way back to the back door, I stopped and read the note tacked to the refrigerator: Haley and Matt…went to the movies. Be back by eleven. Mom and Dad.

Jordan was sitting on the steps, and when I opened the door he turned around and smiled a little. I dropped Matt’s jacket in his lap and his grin got a little bigger. “Thanks.”

Once Jordan had the jacket on, I sat down on his lap. It’s a sad but true fact that I fit there perfectly, with my head coming just between his shoulder and chin. With the coats on and shared body heat to help keep us warm, we were feeling a lot better. Jordan pulled me close and hugged me tight, like he didn’t want to let me go. His mouth was right next to my ear. Normally, he would have started kissing me or breathing heavy or something, but neither of us was really in the mood for it. Instead, he sighed. “I wish you could trust me,” he said quietly.

I turned to face him. “What are you talking about?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about…?” He looked away and I could see he was struggling with the words.

I furrowed my brows. “Jordan. I don’t even have the words for it, most of the time. It’s hard for me to say. I’ve only told one person ever, and that’s only because I was forced to.”

He reached out tentatively toward my face and then withdrew his hand without touching me. “Byron,” he said, not really asking a question. I nodded anyway. “So it is true. You really were…”

Sometimes, Jordan is so much like Byron, it scares me. Although I guess it shouldn’t. They did spend about eight months sharing a womb. “Raped?” I finished his statement for him, because I knew he wouldn’t stop until I said it. It’s exactly how By found out, too. “Yeah. I was.”

His face went through a quick range of emotions. Finally, he settled on looking sad, with something I’ve never seen out of him before. He looked like he was going to cry. “When?”

I looked up at the stars. “A lifetime ago. Do you mind if I don’t go into it now? I promise, I’ll tell you someday. But this day has been hard enough without having to relive that night over again.” Jordan nodded, and I looked back at him. He put his hand out again, and this time he ran his index finger down the length of my face, tracing the edge from my forehead to my ear, down the jaw to my chin. “And please, don’t think it’s because I don’t trust you. I’ve never in my life let someone touch me the way you do.”

I could hear Daddy’s car pulling up the driveway as I finished my last statement. I stood up off Jordan’s lap and sat down beside him. He understood without my saying a word, but he pulled me as close as he dared and put his mouth next to my ear again. “I love you. I hope you know that,” he whispered.

He’d joked about it before. Usually he joked that I loved him for some reason: his car, his friends, his family. This was the first time he’d ever come straight out and said he loved me, although I have a feeling he’d wanted to say it from the first time we’d kissed. And probably, from what I’ve heard, for a long time before that.

I looked at him, not sure I could return the words just at that moment. But I didn’t get a chance to find out. Car doors slammed and my parents were standing there in front of us. “Haley? Jordan? What are you two doing out here?” My dad asked.

Jordan stood up and then held out a hand to help me up. “I was seeing Haley home, but when we got here, no one was home. Haley was having a tough evening, so I didn’t want to leave her alone. I hope you don’t mind that we sat back here for a while.”

I saw Mom and Daddy look at each other and have a little telepathic conference. Jordan ran his finger down the side of my eye, where I could still feel the dried tears from earlier. His finger came away green and that was when I realized that my mascara had smeared everywhere. My parents must have been able to tell I’d been crying. “You and your green eye makeup,” Jordan teased. I smiled a little back at him, and I knew he was okay for now if I didn’t say those three little words back to him. Which, being the person I am, made me want to say them.

The little conversation Mom was having with Daddy ended and she turned back to us. “Well, next time you two come home to an empty house, you can go ahead inside. As long as you stick to the ground floor of the house and we don’t come home to see anything we don’t want to see.”

I know my mouth hung open for a moment before I replied. “Really?”

Mom laughed. “Yes, really. We could have come home to find Jordan trying to sneak out the other door. Or the two of you in the backseat of the car, giving the excuse that you were trying to keep warm.” I looked at Jordan, trying to have a mental conversation with him, along the lines of ‘why didn’t we think of that?!?’ I know he got the message because he was trying hard not to laugh. “Now we see we can trust you.”

Daddy opened the door to the house. “Jordan? You coming in for a while?”

He shook his head. “It’s been a long day. I probably should be heading home.” Daddy and Mom nodded and headed inside. Jordan turned back to me. “Call me when you get up in the morning and I’ll bring the jacket back.” He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. With that, he headed down the driveway.

I waited until he was almost out of sight. “Jordan?”

He turned around. “What, Haley?”

“I love you, too.” I blew him a kiss.

He lit up like I’d just plugged him into electricity. He reached out one hand and grabbed the imaginary kiss and planted it on his cheek. With a little wave, he walked away.

#bsc fanfic

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