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heavenunderthemoon · 3 years

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can we please get more jj and daughter!reader? it’s genuinely such an amazing series and i’d love to read more about them :)

JJ x daughter!reader content!

Move-Ins and All-Nighters

"There's a boy in my bed."

You turned over, sleep clawing at your eyes.

There, in your bed, clad in an old and fading FBI t-shirt and holiday pajama pants (even though it was mid-may) laid your mother. Her eyes were settled onto the ceiling, your fan creaking and shuttering as it ran. It always did that, some kind of screw loose that made it clatter the way it did and the sound soothed you to sleep, thankfully, because god knows the image of your mother with any kind of tool to fix it in her hand simply did not fit.

The images of your dream, Harry Potter singing opera at a talent show, were fleeting and you groaned, shoving your face into your pillow with a 'humph'.

Will had moved in that day- or yesterday? You were too tired to check the clock but judging on the darkness you could only assume it was well into the early morning, your mother too jittered from the sudden moving in of her boyfriend to sleep. She had been practically bouncing all morning, the pregnancy, sudden and shocking, had made the couple move far faster than they had planned. Will had agreed to move in with the two girls and JJ had practically been flying ever since, making way for the man in their tiny three-bedroom house.

"He doesn't snore, he just breathes really loud. Like, really loud. I think he has asthma or something, and there was a tiny lull for like two minutes where I thought he was dead but I think-"

You groaned again, this time flipping onto your back and joining your mother in watching your creaky, shaky ceiling fan shudder and moan as it whirred in circles. "You're killing me, smalls." Your voice was a tired whisper, but it wasn't irritated. No, you couldn't be irritated because you knew just how stressed your mother was.

Your mother was stressed because of the new baby, her hand constantly flying to the non-existent bump throughout the day, throughout the night, throughout the morning, as if checking to make sure the baby was still in there. She was stressed because of Will, of what the baby meant for them, of what it meant for you and her. The two of you had only ever had the two of you. The two of you, which had been incredibly difficult and terrifying for her when she was just a pregnant teenager leaving her small town home for the first time, a baby in her belly and a father that wanted nothing to do with her. Difficult when she was the only one on diaper duty or school drop-offs, or first days of school. But had become her favorite thing in the world because you were something that she had never planned for but everything she was thankful for. A good kid, a great kid, a best friend who knew her and that she knew like the back of her hand. Someone she could climb into bed with at four in the morning because her...boyfriend? Baby daddy? Her Will, was snoring and she had never had someone stay in her house, sleep in her bed, and promise to be there to take half of the diaper duty, school drop offs, or first days. She had never had someone who said they would be there unless it was you and the idea of an outsider joining the Jareau girls was too foreign for her mind to understand alone and so here she was, in your bed.

"He cooked chicken." Your mother said absentmindedly, hand flying down to rub her belly.

You wondered if it would be a boy or a girl. You and Penelope had bets, she bet that it ws a boy, but you bet it was a girl. Honestly, it was just hope that it was a girl because you had no idea how to be a big sister to a boy. Although, you also had no idea how to be a big sister to a girl, in fairness, but you were a girl, so you figured the learning curve was a bit smaller.

"He did." You agreed. "Little spicy for my taste, but I'll get used to it." Your mind flitted back to dinner, the sight of Will Lamontagne in your kitchen, using your stove, searing chicken not something you had ever imagined. To be fair, you hadn't imagined him doing a lot of things in your kitchen, partly because your mother and you hardly ever used your kitchen. She couldn't cook for the life of her unless it was microwavable or instant pot and that was one of the many things you had inherited.

"He washed dishes- he took out the trash." She continued absently.

You nodded with a sigh. "Mhm."

"My bathroom smells like boy. Like boy soap and boy shampoo-"

"Ah, well at least he uses different bottles. If he used the three in ones I would've had to tell you to kick him out, that's a non-negotiable."

Your mother remained in her trance, her thoughts raging about her brain like a balloon deflating.

The fan teetered on.

"He put a book on his nightstand, in case he can't fall asleep. You know what genre he reads? Non-fiction. It was about WW2. Who reads about World War 2 when they're trying to fall asleep?"

"Well, to be fair, history class provides me a pretty good nap time and I wouldn't say that it's too bold of an assumption to claim that the content serves as an effective lullaby."

She turned, a puff of air being released as she did so. With as dark as it was in the room you could hardly see her, in fact you couldn't. Not really. Only the outline of her, but your memory filled in the blanks. Your memories filled in her face, her eyes which were probably wide as saucers, lips turned into a frown, one that turned down more with stress, eyebrows knitted, a face of panic, of terror, of uncertainty.

"I finally get what Penelope means when she says she doesn't like change."

You nodded. This change was...weird. Will had come to your house before this. He had visited on weekends, showed up to soccer games, even grabbed you from school a couple of times. He was nice and reliable and...strange. Strange, because, suddenly, you weren't all your mother had. Sure, she had the BAU, she had always had her team. The team that had watched you grow up. Spencer who helped with your homework and told you bedtime stories- stories that you forced him to make up because you knew that he could recite every book he's ever read in its entirety without breaking a sweat and you told him that that was 'cheating'. Bedtime stories had to be made up, you had told him, and he obliged because he was Spencer. Or Morgan who showed up to your games when he could and had gotten kicked out on multiple occasions for yelling at the refs. Penelope who played Princess with you and saved every single drawing you had ever made her, or Hotch who had let you dance on his feet. Elle who sang to you when you had begged her, or Emily who made it her life's purpose to show you all the good music and movies. Your mother had a village, but she had never had a single person.

A person for her. A person who you watched her slowly trust. Trust to grab you from school, or go to your games, or sear chicken in your kitchen. You watched her make room in her closet for him, and clear out underwear drawers, and you knew that he was there. He was there and he was good.

"This change is good, though." Your hand went down to grab hers. "When I was growing up, I had you, and I had you all to myself, and that was pretty amazing. But this baby is gonna get to have you and Will, and Will is...well, he's a dork."

Your mother chuckled.

"He likes to read history before bed and sings along to the radio when he drives. He likes strawberry ice cream over chocolate, and his favorite Christmas movie is Die Hard. He's a weirdo, Mom, but he's good, he's here, and he's willing to put up with us, that's a pretty hard sell, if you ask me."

Her hand squeezed yours, a lessening of the tension and you knew that whatever you were doing was working because when she next spoke it wasn't as stressed. "We're not that bad."

You snorted. "We talk through every movie, go through four tubs of ice cream in a week, and last week, for three days straight, we spoke only in transatlantic accents just to see what it would be like. We are annoying and if he didn't run within the first two minutes of living with us, then he's not going anywhere."

The pillow case ruffled as she nodded, and you gave a tired smile at the tiny victory. "Now, go be a big girl and sleep in your own bed, I have a Geometry test in five hours."

#Jennifer Jareau x daughter! reader #jennifer jareau x reader #Jennifer Jareau #criminal minds x reader #Criminal Minds

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dallonm-archive · 3 years

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TABBY | SHORT STORY UPDATES #4

In Tabby, a reclusive man who’d rather exist as a phantom than a human notices the neighbours aren’t feeding their cat, and is sucked into a world that breaks the stillness of his own.

Genre: literary fiction, “soft” noir (??)

POV: 1st person present, very observational and detached for most of the narrative

Setting: late 1940s/early 1950s, unnamed US city but implied to be Los Angeles

Atmosphere: a summer that’s sickly, orange juice, the smell of paint, shaky hands, peach skies, sunflowers, blood splatter, a cats purr, the gut feeling that something is very, very wrong

Literal Logline: this cat is my friend and he doesn’t judge me over silly little things like the murder i just committed (also i think he might be god??)

Hi I wrote a story about a cat and got way too into it and accidentally made it about murder and now it might be my favourite thing I’ve written! Lets talk about it! cw for murder and blood imagery!

general taglist ; @kowlazovdi @avi-burton-writing @ryns-ramblings @melpomeny @kitblogsthings @ezrathings @aetherwrites @bookphobe @haldimilks @alicewestwater @bookpacking @shaelinwrites @writingamongthecoloredroses @harehearts @zemnian @onlyganymede @theelectricfactory @write-like-babs @oceancold @notphilosopherstudentblog @veiliza @sidhewrites @wolf-oak @feverdreamwritings @oasis-of-you

This entire story sparked from this photo, which I couldn’t find a specific source for, but is cute and a Mood nonetheless!

My thought process was essentially “man sits on bench with cat...........and also.......murder?” I don’t know why my brain is like this!!!

I imagine this story being set in the late 40s/early 50s, but haven’t pinpointed exactly, in a suburb of Los Angeles (but this also isn’t clear in the story as of now). This used to be my go to setting when I was really into noir, and it was fun to return to that in a non-noir piece! This started out as purely literary, but now I do see some noir elements here. They’re just very subtle - nor was I intentionally trying to capture any - and the story misses some of the fundamental conventions. To me it’s almost like...soft noir? Noir lite?? I feel like it’s inherently noir and inherently not noir at the same time but I love the vibes of it a lot. There’s this “glow” to the story that I can’t exactly put into words, like a very subtle golden hour that is very tranquil and strangely undisturbed by the general chaos going on in the actual story

I took this setting, the vibes, and the idea of a character with an innate connection to this cat, plus a murder chucked somewhere in the middle and ran with it.

I wrote this over the course of a couple days, and it came very naturally! The prose is a little more sparse than my usual writing which made the process much quicker, and I’m really into this style at the moment. A lot of it is also internal thought, which y’all know is right up my alley. I really, really love the voice in this. It starts very unremarkable, but there is an unsettling undercurrent that grows and grows and it’s been very fun to blend the mundane and the creepy. This story really reignited my drive for short fiction because the trend lately has been coming up with an idea I love that just doesn’t translate on paper, but this one despite needing a good deal of work was very smooth!

I’d say this is my first successful attempt at a nameless/faceless character and it’s one of the most interesting experiences of character development I’ve had in a long time?? The only other time I’ve done this is in my story Rinse Cycle, but the narrator never really felt much like a character (which is very unusual for me), whereas the narrator in Tabby feels as fleshed out and nuanced as any of my characters with names or faces. I rarely focus on appearances for short story characters anyway, but I’ve never struggled with finding a name for a character and this narrator just Does Not want to be named. But I think that really fits him! He likes to be invisible and drift through life unnoticed, where he is merely an observer rather than a participant; so when he does get chucked into the middle of a very messy, very chaotic situation he essentially shuts down. I really like the tonal shift this creates where we go from a very detached narrative to very in the moment, very vivid and intense, like we go from 0 to 100 real quick. I don’t want to share a lot of plot details (which makes writing this a little frustrating sigh), but it ends with him committing a murder that, whilst intentional in the moment, is entirely impulsive and practically out of his control. He is not a natural killer and goes from barely being an emotional participant in his life to fully immersed in the moment and absolutely terrified by that. I’m really looking forward to digging deeper into his psychological state as I work on this draft because Boy We Don’t Have Time To Unpack All This. A quick summary of him would be though

people watcher, picks up more than he realises

living in a house he inherited from his dead father

made eye contact with a stranger and it was physically painful

quietly unhinged

doesn’t feel like he’s a person

oh no, now i have to face the consequences of my actions!

I’m trying to limit the amount of excerpts I post when it comes to short stories [because I am always basing the value of my content on prose I share which is! not healthy!], so the only writing I’m going to share is this little description that’s not very plot relevant, but is a good demonstration of this narrator’s funky little voice:

Every morning, at seven sharp, I routinely sit on the swinging bench behind my house to eat over easy eggs and burnt sausages. I still don’t understand how to cook meat. Behind me, cars murmur and sputter into the city, housewives chatter from their separate square gardens and I do not exist in the same reality as them. I am boxed in by off-white picket fence. The fence dividing my neighbours and I – a saffron coloured house with sunflowers bordering the perimeter – is painted pinkish red like an infected tongue. Every morning, I routinely think, that I do not know what’s stranger: how the red jolts the sun house’s otherwise harmonious existence, or the way the job was never finished. It’s not as if the painter died, because if the painter died there would be a corpse; perhaps blood spatter would darken against red wood, perhaps paint would pool out of the dropped can and mimic the presence of an exit wound.

Y’all might be wondering, where does the cat fit in all of this? And the answer is it’s complicated! In terms of form, we bounce between observations/interactions of the cats behaviour and the “main plot” of the story - which is to do with the rather unhinged new neighbours disrupting our neighbours unremarkable life. Thematically, the cat definitely symbolises a lot of things and opens up a lot of conversations that I still haven’t polished because well, we’re on draft one and I was focused on some funky Cat Descriptions. Some fun ideas include the distinction between human and animal, how capitalism is impeding on our chances to live a fulfilled life, and the idea that all humans do is overcomplicate everything. It’s presence also acts as a grounding technique for the narrator, since he so easily detaches himself from the rest of the world. The writing started with a scene of the act killing a mouse and how clean and simple it all is that I’m lowkey obsessed with, and is definitely some non-subtle foreshadowing for what comes later.

I like to joke that the cat is God because sometimes the narrator says some weird shit like, how the Earth stops orbiting the sun when the cat goes to sleep and how the cat doesn’t need to worry about predators because it hasn’t invented any. So the cat is not officially “God” but like,...,,It Might Be

Quickly adding this to the end but! Your girl finally has a (working title) for her collection! I’m not ready to share it yet because I’m still not 100% on it, I feel it matches the stories thematically but not always tonally, however it captures the core idea that I’ve been following so it’s good enough for me. This was a really important step because as much as I tried I could Not Visualise a collection at all without a title, which is v annoying because titling a collection is the worst!!! I was fine just writing short stories and letting them exist but I really wanted to build them as a cohesive collection as I went, and now I really like where it’s going - it’s definitely got a long way to go but I feel like I’ve finally managed to take control of it and steer it into a direction that reflects what I enjoy to write. I spent a lot of months clinging onto the collection I started in late 2018 before The Great Writing Hiatus Of 2019, even though it really didn’t resonate with me anymore, so I’m very happy to feel like I’m now on the right path and I feel the collection really shows my growth as a writer this year! This is definitely not set in stone, but I have a lot of fun imagining the potential order of the stories and right now it looks like:

[Some of these are stories unfinished, and some of them are finished and I just haven’t talked about them because I am the Worst at remembering to write short story updates, but tbh I’m thinking of just talking about them all briefly in a big post about the collection when I write a proper intro for it in the future]

We love to see it! I’m hoping to put a lot of time into this collection in 2021 and get some submissions rolling too (I had the goal of submitting at least one story by the end of this year and I! Don’t know if that’ll happen but January definitely). I’m likely going to be taking most of the year out of uni due to the whole global and mental turmoil rn [also I’d have to apply for writing masters atm and that is NOT happening lmfao], so I’m v v excited to have some extra writing time and see where this all goes!

#atlastracking #am writing #short stories #writeblr #i am once again posting at an odd time when my dash is ~dead~#also playing around w how i format these posts as always

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wintrcaptn · 4 years

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It’s You Ch 2 | Chris Evans 🖤

Summary : moving to a new place, not knowing a single person, wasn’t what you had in mind. But wanting a fresh start was the main goal. Little did you know, you were now living next door to none other than Chris Evans.

A/N : I am glad you all enjoyed the first part! It really means the world to me! I don’t know where Chris lives or if he even has nearby neighbors but it’s called fan fiction for a reason. Lol. Please don’t be afraid to leave feedback! Good or bad!

Also, sorry if there are errors. I’m writing on my phone and I’m too lazy to proof read my stuff 😩 I do this to myself. Anyways, ENJOY!

Part One

It’s been months since you moved into your new house, and thingns we’re finally coming together, just the way you wanted it.

Moving to Boston was something you were nervous but also excited for. You were tired of your hometown, tired of seeing the same faces and being reminded of past loves who only ended up hurting you.

So you wanted to start a new chapter in your life. Find passion in yourself again and just be happy with being alone. Something you haven’t felt in such a long time.

But then Chris came along.

As hard as you tried to focus on your life, you couldn’t help but constantly think about him. Think about the way he licks his finger after playing with the rim of his cup when he comes over for coffee on your days off. Or about the way he sings off key to Disney songs when you both get drunk and have a marathon at his place.

Your feelings were growing deeper and deeper and it was beginning to scare you. But of course, your mind would start to work overtime, and you would begin to overthink everything. Wondering why he would waste his time with someone like you when he could literally have any one else. Maybe because you were there? Living next door, made it convenient for him?

Whatever it was, you tried to enjoy it either way. Before it was over.

Chris liked spending his time with you.

Sure, he thought you were attractive but actually getting to know you, made you even more attractive.

Being with you wasn’t hard. It wasn’t scripted or felt forced.

It was as if he had known you all his life.

Then out of nowhere, one day when he was over, spending a casual Saturday at your house, he finally realized this was more than just platonic....

“Okay, so it’s my turn to cook for you!” You exclaimed, walking over to your kitchen.

Chris followed in pursuit, watching you with a soft smile on his lips.

“I don’t think I want to die tonight.” He teased.

You stopped in your steps and turned to face him, with your eyes so big, trying hard not to laugh.

“Excuse me, I’m one hell of a chef. Thank you very much.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He walked over to the sink, to wash his hands. “I’ll help—“

“Nope! I got this.”

You scrunched you’re nose at him before turning your back to him once again. That little banter was one of the things Chris loved.

Even though, it had been months of hanging out with Chris, it was still so surreal to be around him. Around the guy you had loved watching on movies, and hoped to one day meet.

Your life was a literal fan fiction, but you didn’t seem to mind.

Even though it all felt too good to be true, you wanted to bask in every moment of it.

You looked over the recipe and grabbed what you needed, except for the salt.

Chris thought it would be funny to put it on the top shelf in the cupboard every time he came over, so you had to climb up on the counter to get it.

Letting out a sigh, you looked at him and all he could do was smirk.

“I’m tired of this shit, Chris.” You chuckled. “Come over here and get the damn salt.”

His soft laugh, the one that was barely loud enough but still able to reach your ears, always made you swoon.

“Wait, are you asking me for help? Is this really happening?”

“Chris, you know damn well that if the salt was in the right place, I wouldn’t have to ask.” You muttered, pulling your hair up into a messy bun. “Now please, walk your giant ass over here and put it where it belongs.”

Chris had a rag in his hands to dry off the water from washing his hands. He tossed it over to the other side of the kitchen, before walking over to you.

Once he was by your side, he caught your attention. “You said you got it—“ he muttered as he placed his hands on either sides of your hips, forcing your breath to hitch to the back of your throat. “So get it yourself.” He whispered.

Before you knew it, your feet were off the ground, and You were now able to reach the salt. With Chris holding you up, you knew at this very moment, you were screwed.

The way his fingers curved around you, and how your body leaned against his, it was almost like torture.

You were fighting yourself from giving in. Fighting to keep your fantasies to a minimum and not let any emotion show.

Once you grabbed what you needed, he carefully put you down, not taking his hands off you. But you were so close to each other, you swore you could hear his heart beat.

His gaze held yours, making you feel like he could undress you with those eyes of his.

It was beginning to make you hot just by the thought.

You were able to snap out of it, and clear your throat, breaking the tension between you.

Chris realized he made a tricky move, something that could have made things worse.

He took a step back, to lean on the counter and control his thoughts of you.

‘Keep it together’ he repeated to himself.

“Now stop moving my shit around.” You forced out, glancing at him.

Chris nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Yes ma’am.” His voice was low.

‘God damn it. Keep it to-fucking-gether!!’

A few hours had passed. You were both laughing once again, not letting that moment from earlier ruin the night.

Things were back to normal again.

Scott decided to join the two of you, which he did almost every other weekend, even if Chris couldn’t make it.

He became someone you could trust. And that was hard for you.

“I swear Chris had no secrets with our mom. He literally ran home to tell her he lost his virginity.” Scott cackled, before taking a sip of his beer.

“I was excited!”

“Aww that’s so cute! You were such a mommy’s boy.” You teased.

“Were? He still is.”

Scott looked at his phone and couldn’t believe the time. “Shit, it’s already midnight!” He exclaimed. “I have to wake up in a few hours for my flight.”

With that, he propped up to his feet and gave both you and Chris a quick hug, before walking back to Chris’ house.

“I didn’t realize it was that late.” You yawned, walking the plates over to the sink.

“Guess you lose track when you’re having fun.” Chris said, helping you with the dishes.

You stopped and looked over at him, your eyes slightly bloodshot from exhaustion and the alcohol.

“I need to get this off my chest because it’s been killing me.” You muttered, feeling a bit delirious.

Chris cocked his brow, and focused his full attention on you. “Is everything okay?”

This was it. Word vomit. The thing you did when you had no control over yourself and acted before you thought it through.

“I’ve read fan fiction about you.” You confessed. “And I know that makes me sound like a stalker or whatever, but I promise you that I never in a million years thought I’d be living next door to you.”

Chris stood there, baffled and slightly amused as you went on.

“Yes I think you’re attractive, but I didn’t buy this house because of you. I honestly didn’t even know where you lived!!” You said. “I’ve had shitty relationships and shitty friends and—I just needed a fresh start. My job was able to transfer me out here and this was the second house I looked at and just fell in love—I promise—“

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. I believe you.” He chuckled. “I have never thought of you as a stalker or creepy. Weird? Yes but that’s okay.”

You could tell he was trying to lighten up the mood.

But once the realization of what you had just said, dawned on you, you were mortified. “I can’t believe I just told you that.”

Chris belted our into laughter, as he pulled you into him. His arms curled around your waist while you laid your head on his chest.

This was the place you loved being in. Being in his arms, it felt like nothing could ever hurt you again. And it was honestly exactly what you needed.

“So—“ he drawled out. “Do you still read fan fiction about me?”

You took a step back to lock your gaze with his. “Out of all the things I said, that’s what you cling on too?”

“I’m just curious!” He chuckled. “Were they dirty stories? Or—“

“I’m NOT telling you! It’s bad enough that I embarrassed myself telling you I read anything at all!”

Chris could only laugh, clutching his hand over his chest.

You playfully swatted his arm, trying hard not to laugh with him.

“I hate you.” You said, hiding your smile. “This stays between us! If you tell anyone, I swear I will kick your ass!”

“Can you even reach my ass?”

“Are those fighting words, Evans? Because I can throw hands, real quick.”

He took a short step closer to you, his eyes looking darker than usual, with desire. He glanced down at your lips, then back up and locked his gaze with yours.

“I’d like to see you try.” He whispered.

‘Is this really happening?!’

You wanted to kiss him right there and then. To grab his collar, pull him in and taste those plump lips of his that you had been craving to taste.

But you were frozen, lost in his trance.

It wasn’t until The sound of Chris’ phone going off, you were finally able to snap out of it.

It was a text from Scott, asking where he had put the suitcase.

“I got to go.” He muttered, looking slightly bummed about having to leave. “I’ll come over tomorrow to help you with your new book case.”

You swallowed hard, and nodded. “Sounds good. Give Dodger a kiss for me.”

“Will do.” He pulled you in for a tight hug, which lingered longer than it should have. “Good night Y/N.”

Chris turned on his heels and started toward his house, leaving you speechless yet again. He always knew how to do that to you.

“Dammit Y/N.” You mumbled to yourself. “Why don’t you ever learn to keep your mouth shut.”

As Chris walked into his house, all he could think about was you. And even after blurting out everything, it didn’t seem to faze him.

“Oh damn.” Scott said, catching his brothers attention.

“What?” He asked, confused.

“Nothing, I’ll tell you when the times right. But for now, please help me find that damn suitcase! This is what I get for packing last minute!”

——

Chapter Three

#i hope this was okay #if not then oh well i tried lol #marvel #chris evans #steve rogers #marveledit #marvel imagine #the avengers #marvel fanfiction #mcu #mcu imagine #andy barber #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #cevans #defending jacob

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i-need-entertainment · 3 years

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Thank you @citrussweetie for the tag! Their post can be seen here~

Game Rules:

Tell me characters you self ship with...

1. The date you wish they’d take you on

2. The date they’d actually take you on

3. Your usual hangout

4. Their favorite thing about you

Washio Tatsuki:

1. I would like to go to the movies with him. To be honest, I don’t really like the movies cause I have the attention span of a small rabbit, but it just seems like it’d be better with him there. After we’d go out to eat somewhere where we could talk about the movie and him making snarky comments about the bad decisions made.

2. I think he would take me on a classic date. Like a nice dinner, and then a walk on the boardwalk (I live by water, and it has always been a dream of mine for the Haikyuu!! Boys to walk with me on the boardwalk😞) where he holds my hand and gives me his jacket when it gets cold. (lol he’s one of the few characters whose jacket would actually be big on me cause I have *shoulders*)

3. This might be weird but hEaR me OUT. Him driving (definitely not cause I can’t..) while I sit in the passengers seat, us going to get groceries or food or something like that. He would let me play whatever music I wanted (@foodacoochie you already know who we’re listening to~) and smile as I beautifully sang along.

4. The fact that i’m reliable. I’m a responsible person, I do what’s expected of me and I do the best I can! I hate letting people down, and I want to be someone people can rely on. I think he’d like that he wouldn’t have to worry about me as much because I am very independent, I’d also be someone he could go to for his problems because I would listen.

Numai Kazuma:

1. I’d want to go on an amusement park date! For some reason when I imagined going on a date with Numai, amusement park was the first thing I thought of. I just think it’d be so cute!! I’m not a fan of crowds, but I wouldn’t feel uncomfy cause he would be there to ~protect me~😌

2. I honestly think he’d actually take me on the amusement park date! (that or I really just wanna go to six flags right now-) He seems like someone who might be a little clumsy in a relationship at first, and dates is one of those things he just has to get a hang of, so I think an amusement park is a good first/second date cause I think he’d be more comfortable. (Did that make any sense?)

3. Our usual hangout would be at one of our houses just lounging on the couch on our phones with our limbs all tangled together and eating some kind of snack, showing each other funny stuff we find and what not~

4. I think his favorite thing about me would be my character. I’m very morally inclined, and I do what’s right because it’s right, I have a strong moral compass. I think he’d like that because he hates being called a cheater for being on Nohebi, so I think he’d like that, I also can’t stand cheating/lying.

Shirabu Kenjirou:

1. I would like to go to a museum with Shirabu. I love museums, I always have. I don’t even care what it’s about, I love pretty much all subjects, but history museums are my favorite.

2. I think he’d be down for the museum date, but I think he’d choose something like one of those couples paint lessons (?). Like, you go to a one time art lesson where all the couples follow an instructor to paint a picture. idk I just think that sounds like something he’d pick, and it’d be really cute.

3. Probably him making me sit down at my desk and do my homework :p It’s not like I’m bad at school, there’s just so many better things I could be doing. So it would probably be him making me do my homework when it’s assigned, not the night before it’s due😔

4. My bluntness. I am very blunt. I have a filter, and i’m sure it’s in great condition because it’s never been used✌😙. I’m not like Ushijima blunt, I have social skills, but things have slipped before. Nonetheless, I think he’d like that i’m straightforward and to the point.

Iizuna Tsukasa:

1. I would like to go on a beach date with him! For starters, I think he’d look real nice with sunglasses on (don’t judge me, it’s 12:40 am and i’m halfway through an iced coffee, I’m not thinking my thoughts all the way through anymore), and I think it’d be a good relaxation day, to just get away from everything and spend time with each other. I do think he’d splash me, or at the very least try to throw me into the water.

2. I think he’d take me to the mall, where we’d just walk around and look at the shops. I do think he’d be one of the best Haikyuu!! Boys to take to the mall especially if you’re shopping for clothes. He’s stuck between 2 sisters, he knows how to give solid advice without falling into the ‘does this make me look fat’ trap that most boys do. He’d also carry the bags🥰 (whether he does it by will, or by force is irrelevant)

3. Us cooking together! Whether it was baking a cake at 10 pm or making dinner together, I think it’d be fun to cook with Iizuna, and a regular thing that we just did together.

4. My sense of humor. I have a very sharp wit, and that paired with my bluntness has ngl lead to some funny conversations. I think he’d appreciate it because it would let him wind down from being captain of a powerhouse school. Cause with me he gets to be himself, with no pressure to be perfect.

Kunimi Akira:

1. I’d like him to take me to a baseball game. Now, I don’t actually like sports, but for some reason I like baseball. More like I like going to baseball games, cause it’s its own experience, but he would ‘watch’ them with me and eat a bunch of the good stadium food.

2. He’d take me to a concert. I think he would do this for my birthday, cause I love music. Even if he didn’t like the singer/band, he would go just to make me happy. AND, concerts are pretty fun even if you don’t know the artist, so I think he’d enjoy it too!

3. Him laying his head on my lap as he took a nap while I wrote my stories. I think he’d be pretty chill with me simping for fictional men, cause he’s my boyfriend, and it makes me happy so he’s fine with it~ The typing would just lull him to sleep faster so he’d really be fine with it.

4. My laugh. I can’t really explain this one, I was thinking one day and I just thought he would like it. idk man, this one just made sense to me~

Tagging: I highly recommend doing this!! It was so much fun🥺 Also, you don’t have to do as many as I did, I just got carried away! (and sorry for spamming you guys with tags you don’t have to participate!! I just appreciate you guys💗 Feel free to tell me if you no longer want to be tagged I will stop)

@foodacoochie @cowninja1@fushiguroll @motoyafightclub @keijicyl @theuntamedmulti @owlnymph @aquariarose + Anyone who wants to cause it really was fun<3 **also, make a separate post cause this’ll get real long, real quick**

#zap-reblogs

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taeyongdoyoung · 3 years

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summary: you are a mermaid and you save a handsome man from drowning but little do you know it’s not his first rodeo when dealing with mermaids. seonghwa, a former prince, is currently hongjoong’s first mate and boyfriend. hongjoong is the captain, the pirate king of the most savage crew across the seas. and you want nothing to do with them. not because they’re pirates, but because they’re humans…

ship: mermaid!reader x prince/pirate!seonghwa x pirate!hongjoong

genre: little mermaid!au, pirate!au, romance, ANGST, fantasy

warnings: suicide mentions, murder mentions (rip ariel), depression, panic attack, threats, someone loses a hand (bc let’s be honest, it wouldn’t be a pirate story without hooks), manipulation, betrayal, kidnapping

author’s note: mingi has a cameo, i made him a huge asshole (so sorry, irl mingi), just a reminder that everything i write is completely fictional! mingi is a a total sweetheart, i just needed a villain for the story to develop lmao

word count: 3k

chapter one ☠️ chapter two ☠️ chapter three ☠️ chapter four ☠️ chapter five ☠️ chapter seven ☠️ chapter eight ☠️chapter nine ☠️ chapter ten ☠️ chapter eleven ☠️ chapter twelve ☠️ chapter thirteen☠️ spotify playlist

You finally felt ready enough to face Seonghwa and let him explain himself. It was only fair, after all. You couldn’t take Hongjoong’s word for it, considering how he felt about you. You had to hear Seonghwa’s side of the story in order to make a proper decision. So, when you swam back to the ship all by yourself (because you didn’t want to deal with Soojin’s cheerful remarks right now), you were happy that Hongjoong wasn’t anywhere to be seen. You assumed he would drown you himself if given the chance. Luckily, you saw Yeosang nearby.

“Yeo!” you whisper-yelled. “Can you call Seonghwa for me?”

“Y/N!” Yeosang seemed surprised to see you. “I’ll get him for you rightaway.”

“Great, thanks!”

“Are you…okay?” he was obviously concerned.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you lied, because you didn’t feel like getting into it in front of Yeosang.

“Just asking,” Yeosang replied vaguely and went to call Seonghwa.

Soon enough, you were faced with him. It had only been a week of no contact with the gorgeous man and you felt like you had missed him for an eternity. You quickly reminded yourself of the reason you’d come here. You couldn’t go easy on him.

“I need to talk to you,” you stated directly.

“I understand,” Seonghwa sighed. “What about?”

“You know what,” you observed. Judging by how guilty his pretty face looked, he knew very well. And he’d spent many sleepless nights considering it. Serves him right, you thought.

“Do you want me to deny it? Because I can’t,” Seonghwa’s voice broke. “It’s true. I knew Ariel and loved her and she died because of that. You have every right to hate me. What more can I say?”

You looked away, overwhelmed by the painful realization Hongjoong had been telling the truth. But he’d left something out, you knew it.

“Tell me the whole story,” you insisted. “You didn’t kill Ariel yourself, right?”

“Of course not!” Seonghwa cried out.

“Then give me a reason to forgive you for keeping this a secret!” you continued. You couldn’t imagine Seonghwa to be the bad guy. You just couldn’t.

“The local tales have got it all wrong,” Hwa admitted. “I was going to marry Ariel, I didn’t give a shit about that princess my parents were trying to set me up with. See, the thing is…they just couldn’t let me be happy. They bribed the sea witch into turning Ariel into sea foam. When I found out, I was so heartbroken I considering ending my own life. But I had to avenge her death, first. So, I tricked the witch into transforming her body into an exact replica of mine. Her greed was so big she really thought I was just going to hand her my kingdom on a plate. After she was done with the magic, I killed her. I made sure my parents would find the body, because I wanted them to suffer for what they’d done to Ariel. By the time I was done executing my revenge, I didn’t want to die. I knew I had to keep living. For her.”

Your eyes were welled up with tears. Seonghwa’s story was completely devastating. And looking at him now…you knew that was the whole truth. You couldn’t have it any other way. But you also couldn’t bear staying. Not yet, at least.

“Seonghwa…I appreciate you telling me all this,” you murmured. “But I’m going to need some time alone, okay? I loved Ariel, too, you know? And this is just…a lot to take in, yeah?”

Seonghwa nodded sadly.

“I’m going to respect your decision. If you want to talk again, you know where to find me, right?”

“Right. Take care, Seonghwa,” you closed your eyes and sniffed lightly.

“You too, Y/N.”

“And…Seonghwa?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”

And with that, you swam away.

☠️☠️☠️

Seonghwa’s POV

This shit hurt like hell. I thought my heart had been at its limit when I found out Ariel had been turned into sea foam. Or when I realized Hongjoong had betrayed my trust. I didn’t think it could take any more heartbreak. But here it was. Still beating despite everything I’d been through. I remembered the time I’d wanted to kill myself. Put an end to all my suffering. I felt that wish slowly returning to me. But I couldn’t imagine inflicting such pain on Y/N or my crewmates. Not even Hongjoong…Because even though he stabbed me in the back, I still cared for him deeply. I also thought about Y/N’s last words to me. She didn’t hate me. Despite all I’d had done, she couldn’t hate me. I kept repeating that to myself. She just needed some time to figure things out for herself. If she could potentially forgive me…why couldn’t I forgive myself?

“Hyung, your hands are shaking!” Yeosang interrupted my distressing thoughts all of a sudden. He grabbed them tightly. “Just, breathe, okay?”

I tried to do as he said. But I felt so numb. So weak. So…alone.

“Everything will be fine, hyung, I’m here,” Yeosang kept repeating until my hands stopped shaking. Then, he held me while I fell asleep without saying a word. I was too weak to even open my mouth. What had become of me? I needed to pull myself together.

☠️☠️☠️

In the morning, I couldn’t find Yeosang in the room. I was just about to thank him for everything he’d done for me. I was feeling a lot better and wanted to cook him some chicken to show my gratitude. When I came out of the room, I asked Wooyoung and San if they had seen him, but they said they hadn’t, which was slightly troubling. Me and Hongjoong still weren’t on speaking terms, so I didn’t bother looking for him. I would find Sangie myself. After an hour, I had searched the whole ship. And there was no trace of Yeosang. Which was extremely distressing. Where could he have gone? Without telling anyone? Not me, not even his best friend Wooyoung. Well, desperate times called for desperate measures. So, I found myself forced to reach out to Hongjoong.

“Have you seen Yeosang?” I asked him without even knocking on his door.

“Oh, so now you want to talk to me?” Hongjoong scoffed.

“I don’t want to,” I groaned. “But I’m worried about him. No one’s heard from him for the past hour. I couldn’t find him anywhere. It’s weird.”

Hongjoong put a hand on his forehead in a tired but unsurprised manner. He obviously knew something I didn’t.

“Hongjoong, where is he?”

“Set the course for Mingi’s territory, I’ll explain everything once we get Yeosang back.”

“WHAT?” I yelled, completely terrified for Yeosang’s life. “WHAT WOULD YEOSANG BE DOING IN MINGI’S TERRITORY?”

☠️☠️☠️

Yeosang’s POV

In retrospect, coming here on my own was a very bad idea. But when I woke up in the middle of the night found a note next to my pillow, saying “Come alone if you don’t want your friends to get hurt,” signed with Mingi’s name, I just couldn’t refuse the challenge. I thought I could take him down once and for all. After he’d sold us out for more treasures and a bigger ship, I wanted nothing more than to get rid of him. But I had overestimated my abilities.

“Where is my ring, Kang?” Mingi roared angrily the minute I set foot on his ship.

“What ring?” I played dumb and gave him the most innocent smile I was capable of.

“The ring you stole from me, you bastard!” Mingi hissed. “Fight with me again. Winner keeps the ring.”

“I don’t have your ring,” I admitted. How could I? I had given it to Soojin…But I would never tell Mingi that. I couldn’t risk him going after my sweet angel.

“You lost it?” Mingi screamed in frustration.

“Whatcha gonna do if I did?” I smirked mischievously. I shouldn’t have asked, damnit. Shouldn’t have provoked him.

Mingi lunged at me with his sword. I pulled out mine quickly and fought back. But fuck me, he was faster and more skilled than the last time I’d faced him. He’d been working out, too. Why did I come here again? Ah, yes, thinking it would be noble to sacrifice myself. As long as my friends were safe, right? Well, guess what, dumbass. If I died, what’s the guarantee Mingi wouldn’t come after my friends, anyways? I fought him as hard as I could but I was so tired…I hadn’t been sleeping much the last coupled of days, because I was too busy comforting Seonghwa and making sure he wasn’t going to do something stupid to himself. And now, all these sleepless nights were taking their toll on my sword performance. One moment of distraction and I would be dead. Mingi could spot my frailness and took advantage of it. So far I was managing to give as good as I get. But I knew this couldn’t last forever. I had come totally unprepared for a fight. When Mingi cut off my right hand, I could barely register what had happened. I just stared at my bleeding arm and the limp hand lying on the ground. Mingi was staring, too. He couldn’t believe what he’d just done.

“Fuck!” I screamed in pain and no sooner had I said that than Hongjoong and Seonghwa appeared from out of nowhere and attacked Mingi’s ship with guns blazing. Thank God. Then, I passed out.

☠️☠️☠️

Hongjoong’s POV

“Shh, let him rest,” I whispered to Wooyoung who was being way too loud once we had safely returned to our own ship. Recap: we took Mingi by surprise, which is why we were lucky enough to succeed in disarming him and snatch poor Yeosang away from him. Mingi had not expected us to find him so quickly but the thing is, I knew him all too well. So, locating him hadn’t been difficult. It was watching the consequences of my mistakes that was hard. Because of my softness, Yeosang had lost his hand…If only I had killed Mingi when I’d had the chance. But he used to be one of us. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. We’d almost gotten executed by the army for being pirates because of his betrayal. And for what? More treasures? A bigger ship? Insignificant things when compared to having a purpose in life, having a family. But who was I to judge him? After all, I had been guilty of treason myself. The way I hurt Seonghwa…I could never forgive myself, even if he, by some miracle, did. I was such an incorrigible asshole.

“What happened?” I heard Yeosang’s weak voice pull me out of my self-deprecating thoughts.

“Well, for starters, you lost a hand,” I informed Yeosang, thought I doubted my input would be of much help.

“I can see that, jackass,” Yeosang rolled his eyes. “How did you get me out in time? How did you beat Mingi?”

“We were just lucky, that’s all,” I lied. I was doing an awful lot of that recently. Yeosang didn’t have to know what I’d given up in order to get there on time. It would break him. And he had already been through hell.

Yeosang narrowed his stare in suspicion, but didn’t push it.

“Where is Seonghwa?”

“He’s resting,” Wooyoung responded. “You should, too, pal, you look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Yeosang groaned sarcastically.

“Listen, Sangie…I know you probably don’t want to hear any of that right now, but this is just a reminder that we’re here for you. And this isn’t the end. You can always learn how to use a sword with your left hand and…”

“You’re right, Cap,” Yeosang cut me off. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

I nodded in understanding.

“Get some sleep, yeah? We’ll talk again…once you’re ready.”

Wooyoung gave his best friend a supportive squeeze of the arm and we left Yeosang to his own devices. He’d be okay. He was a strong one. But me? I was way past saving…

☠️☠️☠️

Seonghwa’s POV

“You promised you’d explain everything once we get Yeosang back,” I grabbed Hongjoong by the collar of his shirt. “We got him back. How did you know he would be on Mingi’s ship? And how on earth did you make the ship move so fast?”

Hongjoong closed his eyes to hide himself from me. But I wasn’t going to let him. He would tell me the truth or he would have to say goodbye to me. For good.

“Seonghwa…”

“No, Hongjoong. You will tell me everything right now or I’m walking out of here, you hear me?”

Hongjoong opened his eyes, fear evident in them.

“Where do you want me to start?”

“At the beginning.”

“But you have to listen without saying a word. Telling you all this is going to be quite difficult for me. If you have any questions, ask me after I’m done. Can you do that for me?”

I nodded.

“So…you know how Yeosang stole this really pretty ring from Mingi back when he betrayed us? But what you don’t know is that this ring was the only thing Mingi had left from his lover. Now, I don’t know her identity but whoever she was, she meant the world to Mingi. See, the problem is…Yeosang gave that ring to Soojin. And I somehow…suspected that Mingi would find out the ring was missing. That he would come looking for the ring. And I was right. It’s just a miracle we got there on time.”

I tilted my head slightly. Something didn’t add up. I didn’t trust Hongjoong’s bullshit explanation. He was keeping something from me. Again.

“You suspected it? A miracle? Do you take me for a fool, Hongjoong? What are you not telling me?”

Hongjoong bit his lower lip as if it to keep his precious secrets from spilling.

“Mingi’s lover was the sea witch you killed. The same who turned Ariel into sea foam.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I hissed angrily.

“I wish I was. A couple of hours ago when we were on his ship, Mingi confronted me about it. He said he knew she wouldn’t just disappear from him without a trace. I told him she was dead. I’d buried her body. Well, your body. ”

“Hongjoong…” I clenched my fists and gave him a warning look that was self-explanatory.

“I didn’t tell him you killed her, of course,” Hongjoong replied quickly. “But I did tell him it was mermaids who killed her,” he announced proudly. What the fuck?

“You didn’t…” I said in vain, even though I already knew he did. He was that big of a dumbass. “What if he comes after Y/N? After Soojin? They’re innocent, Hongjoong! How could you involve them like this?”

“Was I supposed to let Mingi come after you? We barely escaped him...”

I shook my head in disappointment. He was insane. Then, it hit me. He was still hiding something. Something bigger.

“How did we get there so fast?”

Hongjoong gulped nervously.

“Don’t make me…” he begged.

“Make you?” I laughed maniacally. “You dug your own grave, sweetheart.”

Hongjoong flinched as if I’d struck him. Had I gone too far? Maybe. But he started it.

“I won’t tell you,” he was adamant about it. “I’ll tell you anything else but not this.”

“Then, we’re done here,” I turned around and started walking away.

“No, Hwa, please,” Hongjoong begged and tried to take my hand but I shrugged him off.

“You don’t get to keep things like that from me, to betray my trust again and again, and then ask me to stay,” I whispered.

🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️

Reader’s POV

“How long will it take you to forgive Seonghwa?” Soojin sighed, exasperated.

“What’s it to you? You can go see your precious boyfriend whenever you want,” you snapped at your sister.

“Yeah, but it’s way more fun when we go to our pirates together!” Soojin explained.

You laughed sarcastically.

“Since when are they our pirates? They are humans, Soojin, not property!”

“Okay, okay,” Soojin lifted her arms in the air, surrendering. “But seriously…we should go talk to them again. I have a bad feeling…I don’t know how to explain it, I just…I’m worried about Yeosang. Please?”

You agreed reluctantly.

“But if everything’s alright, I’m going back here,” you announced.

Soojin nodded excitedly. The two of you swam up. Once you reached the surface, you realized Soojin had picked an awful time to check up on Yeosang. It was too dark. And as you approached the ship, you were overwhelmed by a gnawing sensation. Soojin had been right. Something was awfully wrong. The ship seemed exactly like Hongjoong’s…And yet, there was something strange you couldn’t quite place. Did it look bigger at night? How was this possible? You had seen it at night when you’d saved Seonghwa from drowning…And it did not look like this. Had your memories deceived you? You could tell this was certainly a pirate ship. But why were you doubting it was the pirate ship you’d been looking for? What were the odds to run into other pirates in the middle of the night? You were fairly certain you could recognize Hongjoong’s ship anywhere. And yet…

“Yeosang!” Soojin started screaming mournfully. “Where are you?” You could tell by her voice that she was worried sick about her pirate boyfriend. And for a good reason.

“Shh,” you pressed your hand against your sister’s mouth. “Quiet. Something’s not right.”

She blinked at you in confusion.

“What do you mean?” she mouthed.

“I don’t know,” you mouthed back. “But before we found out, can you keep it down?”

Soojin nodded, obviously trusting your judgement. She was uncharacteristically anxious, too. Instead of her usual cheerful self, she was being very jumpy.

“Listen…let’s come back here when it’s daylight, okay?” you suggested. “I’m sure Yeosang will be fine.”

“Just let me try calling his name one more time, yeah?” Soojin murmured hopefully.

“Soojin, no!” you tried to stop her but it was already too late.

“YEOSANG!” Soojin cried out.

It was in that moment the fishnets fell upon you.

To be continued…

#ateez #seonghwa #hongjoong #yeosang #mingi #seongjoong #seonghwa x reader #ateez angst #ateez x reader #soojin #(g)i-dle #pirate au #mermaid au #writing

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #465

“the old man then prepares to die regretfully / that old man here is me”

Did you have a boyfriend in kindergarten? No, but I had a guy who wouldn't leave me alone since pre-k. Did you ever read the Magic Treehouse series? OMG I forgot about those!! I loved them!!! Did you ever watch The Land Before Time movies? AHHHHHHHHH yes!!! :') Did you collect anything when you were a kid? Stickers. My dresser was COMPLETELY covered in them. Who did you look up to most as a child? Steve Irwin, 100%. He was my hero. Did your parents let you drink soda when you were little? Some, yes. I wish they hadn't, with the dependency I have now. Did you ever watch The Powerpuff Girls or Dexter’s Laboratory? Of course! I strongly preferred the former, though. Did you watch Blue's Clues? HOW TIMELY. :'''') I did! My little sister and I loved it. What was your favorite kind of cake as a kid? Just gimme a good 'ole double chocolate cake and I was one happy kiddo, ha ha. Did you ever want to grow up? Sure didn't. I was smart. How often do you listen to classic rock? It varies, really. Sometimes I'm in the mood for it and binge it, other times I want newer music. What about country? Just about never. What is the most amount of money you have ever lost? Not a whole lot. I'm very careful with money. Have you ever hurt yourself just to get attention? No. Whenever I did it in the past, it was always to relocate the pain I was experiencing, and because I felt like I deserved it. Last person to get on your nerves? I'd rather not give it the time of day. Are you in any pain right now? No. Last thing you ate? It was one of those chocolate chip Clif Thins things. I HATE every Clif product I've ever tried until these, so they're a good option if I really want something sweet that's actually decently healthy and doesn't taste like I'm eating pure fiber, like most of their products. Name three things apart from trust and loyalty that you need in a relationship. Open, honest communication, similar interests as well as morals, and pro-LGBTQ+, if I'm just naming three. How far away are you from the place that you were born? Like... not even ten minutes. Do you live near anybody who creeps you out? Nah. Then again though I know pretty much nobody in my neighborhood. Is there anywhere that you are too afraid to go to alone? Where? Hm. If for whatever strange reason I had to, I would absolutely not want to go into a men's restroom alone. Would you be upset if you had a child who decided to make “adult films?” Despite the fact I don't negatively judge porn stars if they are smart, cautious, an informed about what they do and how to stay safe... I think I'd be very, very scared if my child wanted that, especially if it was my daughter, because she can actually get pregnant. Yes, abortion's an option, but... still. I don't want her to have to be faced with that decision. I also would be terrified of my hypothetical son getting someone pregnant, especially because he's then not the one with say on what happens to that child. So ultimately, if I was ever in this situation, I feel like I'd need to be alone with my partner to just cry for a while and then talk with them and look at the situation factually and with regard for my child's happiness. What pizza topping would you never, ever, EVER eat? Sardines. /gag What annoys you most about your computer? The microphone is broken. Do you prefer to read blogs or watch vlogs? I'm not huge on either, but watch vlogs. Do you know anyone who doesn’t celebrate Christmas? No. Do you own a snowglobe? I wish I did, they cute. What was the last thing that upset you? It was more disappointing than upsetting, but I was nevertheless super bummed that my bf had to scoot us hanging out a day back today when I was v excited for it. What is something you are behind on? It sounds unbelievable, I know, but I am IMMENSELY behind with Meerkat Manor: Rise of the Dynasty. Like, I'm somewhere around four episodes in. It's so hard to explain: like, I want to watch it badly, but I don't want to set aside time to sit in front of the TV to actually do it? It makes very little sense. I'll catch up eventually, I just... haven't yet. Who DO you go to for advice when you need it? Mom, Sara, my therapist... Will you go caroling this year? God no. Never have, never will. Would you ever be friends with someone who was suicidal? Bro what the fuck, of course I would. Would you rather have a daughter or a son? Daughter. Did you get bullied more as a child, a teenager, or an adult? I'm very grateful that I was never truly bullied. If you’re female, would you feel uncomfortable having a male gynecologist? FUCK YES. Are you allergic to your favorite animal? I wouldn't know; I've never been near one. :( What’s your favorite country besides the USA? Lol what a presumptuous question. Probably Africa. Did you get senior pictures taken? No, even though I wanted them. :/ I don't remember why I didn't? How often do you like to have sex? I don't care. Whenever it feels right. Are you any good at math? OH MY GOD NO Do you like Dairy Queen? I fucking love Dairy Queen. Ever had their Oreo Cupfection? *chef's kiss* If you had to get advice from someone of the opposite sex, who would you go to? Girt. Or my psychiatrist. Really depends. Does talking about sex make you feel uncomfortable? GODDAMN RIGHT IT DOES. Few things make me MORE uncomfortable. Are you more scared of going to the doctors or dentists? Doctors. Dentists are ezpz for me. At the doctor, meanwhile, I'm scared of them finding something seriously wrong. Do you get along with your significant other’s friends? I've only met one, and that was YEEEEAAARRRRSSS ago. He was chill, though. Do you enjoy the sound of crickets at night and birds in the morning? omfg YES Do you enjoy board games? Not really. Do you need a haircut? I actually just got one the other day. It's shorter than I would've liked, but it's whatever. Hair grows back, and mine does fast. Do you feel bad when you kill bugs? Yes. They've got the same right to be here as we do. What’s the longest stretch of time you’ve spent completely alone? A week or two when my mom and sis went to the beach (I think?) for a dance competition. Have you ever been in a situation where you needed a lawyer? Yes, when I presented my disability case. Do you know anyone who has been evicted? My mom, sister, and me because we couldn't keep up with rent. What’s your favorite macaron flavor? Never tried one. How often do you have friends over to your house? The only "friend" that comes over to my house is my boyfriend. Have you ever done a flip on a trampoline? Front flips, yes; never back flips, because I was scared of breaking my neck. What about a flip off of a diving board? No. Does your country have free healthcare? No, but it fucking should. What is your sexuality? Bro I don't even know anymore lmao. I just say pansexual. "Queer" might fit me best, though. I really don't know, but it doesn't really matter. What’s the last show you watched? Attack on Titan w/ Girt! I'm actually keen to see more of it. The darkness and heartbreak of it is right up my alley. How is your road rage? I don't really experience road rage because I'm too engulfed by terror to focus on anything else, honestly. Do you have any facial piercings? Yeah; I have a vertical labret in my lip. Have you ever been to a rehab center? So this is dumb as shit, but all the psych hospitals I've been to doubled as rehab centers. Which made NO goddamn sense because those who are suffering with mental illnesses leading to suicidal thoughts/tendencies are unique from those dealing with addiction; both require individual treatments and should not be grouped, imo. How long did your shortest relationship last? Not even a day. What would your life be like if you had married your first love? That's... scary to imagine. Sometimes, that was all I wanted. But seeing as he left because of my depression... it probably would have been catastrophic. He was the only person I ever wanted kids with, so there probably would have been children involved in all that madness, which no little one deserves. Him leaving ultimately led to my healing, too, so I don't know where I would've been mental health-wise if he stayed. What is the most difficult or time-consuming thing you’ve ever cooked? Would you make it again? I don’t cook. I need to learn, though... Have you ever had a platonic friend that everyone insisted you should be in a relationship with? He's my boyfriend now, ha ha ha. Is there anything about a person’s sexual past that might stop you from wanting to date them? Yes. I'm too lazy to get into that stuff rn, though. If someone asked your closest friends/family members what career path might suit you best, what do you think they would say? I'm almost certain they would all say veterinarian. How did you and your significant other celebrate your last anniversary? Slow down buddy, we haven't even been together a month lmao. Who was the last person to make you a home-cooked meal? What did they make? Mom, but I don't recall the last thing she made from scratch. Girt is doing that tomorrow, though! :') He's making grilled chicken stuffed with jalapenos and spinach and something else I can't remember and it sounds BANGIN'. What’s the weirdest, rudest, or most ridiculous thing a guest has ever done in your home? Hmmm... I'll have to get back to ya on that. Has anyone ever told you you’re manipulative? I think someone has, yes. Do you know anyone who owns their own business? Yep. Who was the recipient of your very first kiss? Jason. Do you prefer shrimp or crab? SHRIMP. Crab is mushy and disgusting. Do you prefer fiction or non-fiction books/movies? I strongly prefer fiction. Have you ever seen an eclipse? Plenty of lunar eclipses, yes. Who is your favourite video game character? Pyramid Head, Spyro, Cynder... I have a lot, those three are just panning out as strong contenders. Are you the type of person who knows exactly what they want in life? lol Do you have commitment issues? Not at all. What was the last thing you felt nostalgic about? uhhh Does anyone in your family smoke? My dad. Have you ever had a pet escape and run away? OMG one time in his prime, Teddy got loose on a snowy night and went on a full-blown adventure. I was SOBBING. My dad had to chase him down. Do any of your exes know each other? Juan knows Jason, Jason knows Juan and Girt, and Sara knows Girt. What’s an opinion you find impossible to take seriously? "Vaccines cause autism." Fuck out my face. What was the very first election you voted in? This most recent presidential one.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''the unforgiven'' by metallica

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Where in Fiction Would You Spend Christmas?

https://ift.tt/34FuLCB

It’s been a staying-in kind of year. That New Year’s Resolution you made to travel more? It’s gained 20 pounds, started cutting its own hair and is now in a jigsaw club with your neighbour Ken. The only marathon you’ve completed in 2020 is a Battlestar Galactica rewatch. The only mountain you’ve climbed is the metaphorical one it takes to shower daily. That beach trip you’d planned? It went okay actually. You made some bells by selling coconuts to Nook’s Cranny and dug up a bunch of Manila Clams with a flimsy shovel.

For obvious reasons, escape is on our minds this year more than most. So we started thinking, if you had your wishing socks on, where in the collected imaginations of everyone who’s ever dreamt up a film, TV show, game or book, would you spend the holidays? On the holodeck of the Starship Enterprise or roasting on an open fire with The Simpsons, exchanging gifts with Ewoks or witnessing Scrooge McDuck’s transformation from miser to philanthropist first hand?

To get things started, here’s what our writers picked…

Alec Bojalad would spend Christmas … reveling with the Sterling Cooper staff on Mad Men

If I’m to indulge this hypothetical in which I’m torn away from one reality and thrust into another, one thing is very clear: I will have to be extremely intoxicated to avoid my heart exploding from the stressful terror of it all. Thankfully, I know exactly where in pop culture to go to get absolutely blitzed: Mad Men. In terms of sheer debauchery, a Sterling Cooper Christmas party probably falls somewhere between a Bacchanalian orgy and Valhalla itself. As Don, Roger, Bert, Peggy, and company gather together to celebrate another successful year schmoozing clients and sexually harassing one another, I will don my finest 1960s attire and infiltrate the festive event.

As Don Draper wonders who this soft-bodied weirdo in an ill-fitting suit is, I’ll catch up with Harry Crane about television. Then I’ll ask to see Bert Cooper’s weird tentacle porn painting. Sometime around my 9th J&B Whisky on the rocks I’ll visit the secretarial pool and beg them to demand better treatment because “you’ree ssssooo strong and eleganttt. Don’t listen to thessseee men. They’re Mad Men.” Hopefully I’ll be taken away to an old-timey hospital at that point, given electroshock treatment, and return back to my own continuity.

Ryan Britt would spend Christmas… at Deanna and Will’s cabin from Star Trek: Picard

When Jean-Luc Picard uses the spatial projector to zap himself and Soji across the galaxy to the planet Nepethene, the result is a cozy pizza dinner with Will Riker, Deanna Troi and their daughter Kestra. For those who had been pining for more ‘90s nostalgia in this Trek series, the episode ‘Nepthene’ delivered, but with a strong shot of realism. Although Picard was written and created before the Covid-19 pandemic, the idea that Riker and Troi would leave the busy and crowded life of Starfleet, and retire in a remote cabin to protect their family is a choice many have actually faced in 2020. As people around the world have fled pandemic epicenters and tried to put shields around their own families, the peaceful and remote home of the Riker-Trois represents the optimistic ideal of Star Trek with a quiet, and very close-to-home twist.

Spending time with the Riker-Troi family would mean great conversation, great music (oh the jazz!) and, above all, great food. I would happily put my own family in their ‘pod’ if only so Kestra could teach my three-year-old daughter the best way to construct a bow and arrow, and of course, how to learn that secret language of butterflies.

Then, after the kids were in bed, having a glass of wine or some Romulan whiskey with Will out on the porch sounds pretty damn perfect. 2020 has been tough. A bear hug from Riker seems like the perfect Christmas gift of all.

Caroline Preece would spend Christmas… at The Muppet Christmas Carol’s Penguin Skating Party

Ever since young-me set eyes on the ultra-festive world of The Muppet Christmas Carol I’ve wanted to visit. I can’t imagine a better way to spend Christmas Eve than in the cuddly version of Dickens’ cautionary tale, helping Kermit and his co-workers tidy up Scrooge’s office for the holidays, dancing down the snowy London streets and attending the Penguins’ annual Christmas skating party as the ultimate topper to a perfect evening.

As well as being super-merry and joyous (‘tis the season), judging by Kermit’s performance on the ice, they let anyone take part.

It could just be the general lack of socialising and festive frivolity in 2020, but Bob Cratchit’s hopeful walk home from the office (remember the office?!?) on the night before Christmas has always epitomised the idea that the anticipation of Christmas Day is the best part. Add to that a trip to the market to pick up some singing vegetables, or the cosy Cratchit dinner with Miss Piggy and their gaggle of pig and frog offspring, and it’s a version of old-timey festive cheer that will always hold a place in my heart.

Louisa Mellor would spend Christmas… with the strippers in Hustlers

This choice won’t reflect well on me. It’s neither edifying nor improving and has a core of savage capitalist consumerism, which is probably what makes it so Christmassy. Midway through Lorraine Scafaria’s Hustlers – a film about a group of strippers who right the wrongs of the 2008 financial crisis by drugging Wall Street guys to run up their company credit cards – there’s a scene that’d make anyone’s heart grow three sizes.

A dozen lap dancers gather for Christmas in a high-end apartment, their daughters and a grandmother in tow. Dressed in luxe loungewear and chunky gold, their skin glowing like a sucked butterscotch, they swap gifts, smile and sing and dance and thank the lord for their sisters. Expensive elegance is everywhere. Someone gets a fur coat, somebody else a pair of animal-print Louboutins. The woman who dips the dancers’ tits in bowls of ice before they go on stage is given an iPhone 4. Mostly though, they give each other affirmation. Without a natural hair colour, nude fingernail or a man in sight, it’s a dream family Christmas. Picture a Norman Rockwell painting with Jennifer Lopez in gold lamé, a cashmere Santa hat and a balcony bra. Feel-good festive perfection.

Michael Ahr would spend Christmas… secluded in Hogwarts

Some may have found Harry Potter’s winter holidays without his friends rather lonely, but I can think of nothing more magical than having the vast empty halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry all to myself. Why let the staff have the warm, dry, magical snow that fell annually in the Great Hall all to themselves? Not being of school age myself anymore, I might choose to share a butterbeer (or perhaps a hot buttered rum) with Dumbledore and Hagrid by a roaring fire.

I might even be tempted to make the trip to Hogsmeade to see all the shops decked out with lights and blanketed in snow. I’d still be able to enjoy the comparative solitude without all the kids running around, but I’m almost certain there would be a group of carolers wandering about the square, never mind the singing enchanted suits of armor back at the school. And of course, if I could pick a particular present, I’d choose to receive the same amazing gift Harry received that first Christmas from Dumbledore: his father’s Invisibility Cloak. I’d likewise pass it along as a family heirloom to my own children on some Christmas morning to come.

Jamie Andrew would spend Christmas… in a Deep Space Nine Holosuite

At first, I entertained the idea of spending Christmas in Baltimore with the denizens of The Wire, mainly because I liked the idea of children running up and down the streets hollering, ‘Omar’s coming!’ moments before the shotgun-wielding Robin Hood of the Hood came swaggering down the street wearing a big red coat and a white beard, tossing out bank notes and whistling ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’. Then I realised that the chances of me ending up a corpse inside a boarded-up derelict building before the turkey was even cooked were surprisingly high, so I thought I’d try Christmas with Frasier Crane and family instead. Unfortunately, my foreknowledge of Martin’s and Eddie’s deaths would cloud the occasion, and I’d probably spend all night slumped crying in Martin’s recliner, unable to tell anyone why I was so upset without violating the temporal time directive.

Best, then, to spend Yule time on Deep Space Nine. Christianity and its associated festive traditions don’t appear to exist in the 24th Century, so after saying hello to Sisko and co., and maybe playing a bit of Dabo at Quark’s, I’d probably spend the rest of my time in a faithful Holosuite reproduction of a 1990s Irish bar on New Year’s Eve getting absolutely wasted with fellow Celt Chief O’Brien. Now THAT’S what I call Christmas.

Juliette Harrisson would spend Christmas… in Narnia

Not, of course, the White Witch’s eternal winter, when it’s always winter but never Christmas, but a regular Christmas in Narnia. It would, of course, be a white Christmas because otherwise, how would Father Christmas come and deliver presents to everyone? So I could spend the season in a snowy woodland surrounded by magical creatures, and be in with a chance of a really good present. Or possibly a sewing machine.

Movies

Why Chronicles of Narnia’s Santa Claus Celebrates Christmas with Weapons of War

By Juliette Harrisson

Movies

The Rod Serling Christmas Movie You Never Saw

By Chris Farnell

On the first moonlit night when there’s snow on the ground, Narnian fauns, dryads, and dwarfs perform the Great Snow Dance, with the fauns and dryads dancing around while the dwarfs throw snowballs that don’t hit them (an often forgotten detail from the book version of The Silver Chair!). I would join in, although possibly not throw any snowballs as my aim isn’t that good. Then I’d go back to Mr Tumnus’s for sardines and cake on Christmas Eve and talk to him about his somewhat dubious taste in books (just what is Nymphs And Their Ways about, eh Tumnus?). I’d spend Christmas Day up at the castle of Cair Paravel, eating and drinking like a Queen, and then I’d go visit Mr and Mrs Beaver on Boxing Day for a feast of leftovers and maybe a little light ice fishing.

John Saavedra would spend Christmas…celebrating Life Day with Star Wars’ Poe Dameron

No one has ever cared so much about Life Day, the Star Wars galaxy’s own version of Christmas, as much as ace pilot Poe Dameron does in the Lego Star Wars Holiday Special. From decorating the Millennium Falcon and choosing the right Life Day sweater to roasting the traditional tip-yip (also known as Endorian chicken), Poe shows there’s something much stronger than the Force in the Star Wars universe: holiday spirit. Who knew the Resistance hero best known for his knack at blowing stuff up had such a soft spot?

Hanging with Poe on Life Day would mean chestnuts roasting on an open exhaust engine, drinking whatever passes for cocoa in the Star Wars galaxy, hanging out with Wookiees on their homeworld of Kashyyyk, singing festive carols in Huttese, and finding just the right Life Day tree for the Falcon. It’d also mean dancing to the hip tunes of Max Rebo’s drum (the rest of his band is unfortunately no longer with us) and partying with Lando Calrissian, Finn, Rose, Rey, Jannah, Mon Calamari, Jawas, Rodians, Ewoks, and maybe even Chewie’s son Lumpy. If you’re not sold by now, your taste in holiday parties might be bantha poodoo.

Elizabeth Donoghue would spend Christmas…. at The Office’s Classy Christmas

Dunder Mifflin has many memorable Christmas parties, but Steve Carell’s final festive special includes some of my favourite things about The Office; weird Gabe, Michael’s enduring hatred of Toby, and Michael and Holly’s adorable relationship.

After Toby announces he is taking a leave of absence for jury duty (‘Thank you, Scranton Strangler. I love you. You just took one more person’s breath away’) Michael learns that Holly will be returning to Scranton and demands that Pam’s regular Christmas party must get classy. What makes a Christmas classy? A backwards Kangol-esque Santa hat, a red velvet smoking jacket and a quarter of a jazz quartet of course.

I would actively enjoy watching Dwight take down Jim in their snowball fight (total bully, needs to be taken down a peg or two), get drunk with Kelly and Meredith, dance with Phyllis and Erin and learn more about the enigma that is Creed. And although it is slightly more subdued than their Benihana and Moroccan Christmas parties, I’m sure we could keep the party going at a Poor Richard’s after-party.

Kayti Burt would spend Christmas … on Themyscira

The Amazons’ decision to opt out of the “Patriarch’s World” has always been a relatable one, but never so much as in The Year 2020. Historically, I’m not really a beach person, but Themyscira, aka Paradise Island, has a lot going for it: warm weather, a supportive community, and live sporting events where you don’t have to worry about some drunken dudebro spilling cheap beer on your toga.

As far as I can tell from the Wonder Woman movies, no one (besides Young Diana, who’s usually working through some stuff) ever seems to be having a bad time on Themyscira. And why would you? The pre-Crisis comics incarnation of the island (which I am going to choose to accept as my holiday canon) includes indigeneous kangaroo-like creatures called Kangas that the Amazons ride like horses. Diana’s is called Jumpa; mine will be called Jimmy Hoppa, and we will explore the island’s cascading waterfalls and cliffside terraces together. In the evenings, I will attend performances at the Themysciran amphitheater with my new Amazonian friends or, if I’m feeling introverted, catch up on my book reading and crossword puzzles.

Listen, I wouldn’t want to spend forever on Themyscira—I’d miss my friends, family, and TV shows (Themyscira doesn’t seem to get a good wireless signal)—but a few weeks (or months, especially as I will be quarantining for my first two weeks) for Christmas 2020? Bring me to the enchanted feminist utopia.

Alana Joli Abbott would spend Yule… at the coven house from the Nightcraft Quartet

Witchkind, as presented in Shannon Page’s Nightcraft Quartet, don’t celebrate Christmas, but they do love a good Yuletide celebration. Page’s witches and warlocks are separate from humans, long lived, and magical. Young witches train in the magical arts at a coven house, living there like a dorm; the adult women of the coven (always numbering thirteen) may be involved in scientific research (like protagonist Callie), medicine and healing, or reading Tarot, and they teach their specialties to the young witches. The coven house is a central place where women gather to live, to practice magic together, to celebrate, and to honor traditional rituals. While Callie’s coven in San Francisco has their problems, the community there is caring and genuine, full of both youthful energy and centuries of experienced witchery.

One of the perks of editing this series is that I get sneak peeks into parts of the story readers haven’t seen yet—including Yule decorations. Rather than cutting down dead trees, witches coax living fir boughs to weave along the walls and mantles, accented with red ribbon and gold—coins, beads, chains. I can imagine the cozy San Francisco coven house filled with witches all rushing to perform their tasks to make the perfect celebration, some of them convincing the fir boughs to expand in just the right ways while others brew hot chocolate or prepare the feast. I picture them eating in the large hall, voices lifted in joyful chatter, and then making their way out to the grounds beyond the house to celebrate beneath the stars, singing midwinter songs and looking forward to the next year. After months of 2020 with smaller communities and less human contact, being surrounded by such a vibrant, magical group of women sounds like just the right way to end my year.

Rosie Fletcher would spend Christmas… with the Roy family from Succession

Go hard or go home, they say, so since I can’t go home this year, I’m going round the Roys. That is, of course, the family at the centre of Succession, a show peopled by the very wealthiest and utterly worst. Festivities would be held at the home of patriarch Logan Roy. His children and their partners would be obliged to attend. Logan would hire a chef to cook, waiting staff to serve, some of whom he would abuse. I would give them sympathetic “I’m sorry” looks but do nothing, secretly thankful Logan’s ire wasn’t focused on me.

In all likelihood I would be a figure like Greg (the egg), or Tom Wambsgans – mostly tolerated, vaguely despised and very much the second class citizens of the Roy clan, skulking on the periphery as Kendall, Roman and Shiv compete for Logan’s love and oldest son Connor comes up will another entirely ridiculous life plan – I dunno, maybe this year he’s decided that his next career move is to become Santa Claus.

The food would be extraordinary. The booze the very finest – how long before, like Greg, I would be claiming the bottle of vintage rose champagne I had just motored through was ‘not my favourite’? And the dinner table conversation would be electric. Electric like an electric shock – sharp, painful, disorientating, unexpected.

So Christmas has become too commercialised? Fine, fuck it. I’ll take the eye-wateringly expensive gift that’s grudgingly bestowed on me, I will gorge on the finest cheeses known to man and coat my tongue with port made from molten rubies, knowing I am on my way to moral bankruptcy and doing it anyway. Go hard or go home…

Kirsten Howard would spend Christmas… singing along in the closing moments of Scrooged

You’d be hard-pressed to find a Christmas movie that feels as genuinely uplifting during its climax as 1988’s Scrooged. Bill Murray’s arrogant TV boss Frank Cross, having been visited by the Ghosts of Christmases Past, Present and Future, disrupts a live broadcast of A Christmas Carol to rant openly and honestly at the cast and crew (and eventually you) as he makes a passionate case for a life less invested in exploitation and capitalism, and eventually kicks off a collective singalong of Annie Lennox and Al Green’s version of ‘Put a Little Love in Your Heart’.

That’s where I’d like to be this Christmas. Not just to sing along with Bill, but to be around people immediately swept along by the much-less-explored altruistic route of ‘no fucks given’.

Also hanging out with Bill Murray, though, of course.

So much of the last few years has been a public race to the bottom of Nothing Matters Mountain, but even if it hadn’t all been so demoralising and forced so many of us to reevaluate our priorities, Frank’s message of redemption in love and living as well as we can, while shrugging off our own heavy expectations of success, still feels really special.

This Christmas, there is light at the end of the tunnel. We may not be able to grab the nearest stranger and sing “put a little love in your heart!” at them right now, but we CAN carry that feeling with us into 2021. As Frank says: “There are people who are having trouble making their miracle happen”. We can always try and find time to stop focusing on our own for a while and to help them.

David Crow would spend Christmas… chilling with Harold and Kumar

Not many people are aware of this, but A Very Harold and Kumar Christmas is the best Harold and Kumar. It may not have the pop culture cache of their medicinal-fueled quest for mini-cheeseburgers, but it does have something very special, indeed: Wafflebot. If you’ve had the misfortune of living your life oblivious to Wafflebot’s existence, allow me to introduce you to a greater world of wonder and magic.

Wafflebot is the best Christmas present to ever come out of Santa’s Workshop. Displaying an eerily sophisticated artificial intelligence for a toy meant only to cook delicious breakfasts, Wafflebot can make you waffles any time by just popping the top and letting that batter drop. But he can also do so much more! Vaguely aware of the concept of friendship, this brunching Frankenstein can learn how to love and appreciate his owners… and defend them from any threat with scalding hot projectile syrup!

With the ability to serve breakfast, save your life, be manipulated into dangerous attack mode, and learn how to see the real you, all while playing a mean drum solo, Wafflebot would make any Christmas a sweetly warm experience. And then Harold and Kumar, and I could also steal a Christmas tree from NPH or something.

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atc74 · 5 years

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Fire & Air

Square(s) Filled: Breeding Kink for @spnkinkbingo, Wedding for BTZ, Honeymoon for @spnfluffbingo2019

Warnings: Fluff, surprises, honeymoon of a lifetime, here be the sex y’all, unprotected sex, breeding kink

Summary: Jared Padalecki is the heir and next in line to run his fathers oil company. Y/N Y/L/N is the only child of their biggest competitor. What happens when their fathers decide their personal and professional futures? Can they learn to get along, or even love each other? A follow up to Oil & Water.

Pairing: Jared x Reader

Word Count: 3434

Written for: @spnkinkbingo, btz bingo, @spnfluffbingo2019

Beta’d by: @alleiradayne thank you for everything

Like Jared’s scent? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!

As a reminder, this is a work of fiction and should be regarded as such. No harm is intended toward the actor(s) or their families.

A/N: This was gonna be hella long as one piece, so I made it two parts. Read Oil & Water first

Despite their reservations, Jared and Y/N were married in his family’s backyard in the presence of family and a few close friends.

“Jared, you may kiss the bride,” the judge announced to conclude the ceremony.

Jared took his time as he lifted the veil covering her face. Her smile, while small, reached her eyes and Jared reveled in the promise they held, of the promises they’d just made to each other. He stepped forward, pulling her into his arms and their lips met in a chaste, yet soft and tender kiss. He returned to his place, her hand in his.

“Jared and Y/N Padalecki everyone!” the judge shouted, a small polite clapping erupted from their guests.

“I’m keeping my last name, by the way,” she whispered to Jared as they walked back down the white runner to the house.

“I’d never ask you to change it,” Jared assured her, keeping her hand tightly in his.

They entered the house and Jared pulled her back to his office for a few moments of privacy. The door clicked shut behind them as he turned to her.

“You look stunning, Y/N. With everything that has been thrown at us the last few weeks, I didn’t exactly expect to be happy today, but I am and wanted you to know. I’ll do everything I can to make you happy, that is my promise to you,” Jared professed to his new bride.

“Thank you, Jared. It will take some time, but I know you will,” she responded. “But now that all this courting stuff is behind us, can you kiss me already?”

“I did just kiss you,” he responded, a smirk on his face.

“No, not that for show kiss. Kiss me like you mean it,” she whispered.

Jared brought his hands up to cup her face, his nose brushing hers as his lips hovered just above her own. His breath fanned over her skin, his hands held her face gently, and then his lips touched hers. Subtle at first, a barely there brush of soft, supple skin.

A delicate whimper left her pliable mouth as Jared slipped his tongue past her lips, tasting her, really tasting her for the first time. His hands tilted her head, changing the angle. His tongue swirled deeper around hers. It wasn’t hurried or wanton. It was passion and promise. It was fleeting and all too soon, it ended.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open as his lips parted from hers. Her mind whirling with emotions the kiss awakened in her. Her gaze met his as she reentered reality.

“So, was it worth the wait?” he smirked.

“Oh, there’s some room for improvement,” she teased, trying to mask the truth. And the truth was, she had never been kissed like that in her life. His kiss made her feel drunk, made her toes curl, his kiss made her forget. His was a kiss that she wanted to experience over and over and over.

“Duly noted. Now, just a couple more hours and then we have to jet,” Jared glanced at his watch.

“Jet? Where are we going?” she asked, skeptical.

“Our honeymoon, of course,” Jared laughed.

“Why are we taking a honeymoon, Jared?” she probed, but inside, she was giddy. The thought of spending time alone with Jared both excited and terrified her.

“Well, for one, it’s tradition, although nothing about this has been traditional, so I demanded one. Second, I wanted us to get away from the stress,” Jared shrugged. “Do you want to know where we’re going?”

“Yes. No. Maybe,” she giggled, her hand flying to her mouth.

“We’re starting in Europe, but that is all I am going to say for now. I want it to be a surprise,” he mumbled.

“I haven’t packed anything,” she added.

“Don’t worry about that. I gave your mother a simple itinerary and whatever she didn’t pack, we can get. I don’t want you to stress about this at all. I have it all planned out,” Jared assured her.

“Jared, I don’t much care for surprises,” she informed him.

“I honestly think you are going to love what I have planned,” he said hopefully. “Please trust me.”

Y/N thought on it for a minute. She trusted him enough to open up, so she could do this, too. “Yeah, okay. I’ll trust you.” She reached her hand out for his and together they headed to their reception.

~*~

“A private jet, Jared?” Y/N’s wide were wide as Jared led her into the aircraft.

“I pulled out all the stops for this,” Jared grinned ear to ear. “I also may have given both our dads minor, okay major, guilt trips. So yeah, it’s only the best for me and my bride.”

“Oh I bet they loved that!” she laughed, getting comfortable in one of the oversized lounge seats.

“Not half as much as we’re going to love this trip,” Jared smiled, rather proud of himself, stretching out across the aisle from her. “It’s a long flight, so you might want to get some rest. I’ll set an alarm so we wake in plenty of time.”

“Yeah, okay,” she yawned, the stress finally overtaking her.

~*~

“Y/N? It’s time to wake up. We’ll be landing in about ninety minutes,” Jared gently roused her from sleep.

She stretched, looking around, then remembered they were on a private jet financed by their fathers for a luxury honeymoon arranged by her new husband. “Where are we?”

“Somewhere over the north Atlantic,” he laughed. “You slept almost eight hours. You hungry?”

“I’m starving,” she said, stretching her arms over her head, just as her stomach loudly rumbled its reply.

“Perfect timing then,” Jared said as he disappeared to the rear of the plane and returned with a small cart. He placed two covered plates on the table along with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“Hmmm, this smells delicious,” Y/N moaned as he uncovered the plates revealing a pasta dish and a spinach salad.

“I hope you like it. I wasn’t sure what your preferences were, so I stuck with something simple,” Jared poured the wine.

“You made this?” she asked, taking a bite. “It’s delicious.”

“Thank you. I spent a lot of time in the kitchen with my mother growing up. I find cooking relaxing,” he shrugged.

They exchanged small talk over dinner, frivolous conversation for a couple just married, but expected for a couple still getting to know each other.

“Your mother packed your bags, labeled one through five. Feel free to freshen up, and pick an outfit from bag number one, please,” Jared instructed as he cleared the dishes.

Thirty minutes later, Y/N returned in a wool sweater, thick leggings, and knee high boots. She had a scarf and a jacket slung over one arm, while the other held a beanie and a pair of mittens. “This doesn’t look like the typical honeymoon attire Jared.”

“Do I need to remind you that we are not the typical couple?” Jared raised his eyebrows, a grin on his face, making his dimples even more prominent. “And this is definitely not the typical honeymoon.”

“You’re very mysterious, you know that?” she smiled, returning to her seat. He sat across from her, dressed in dark jeans, a dark gray button down and a black beanie.

“No, I’m really not,” Jared shrugged her off, looking out the window. “I’m a very simple man, Y/N.”

“Good morning, Mr. Padalecki and Ms. Y/L/N. We are beginning our descent into Reykjavik, please fasten your seatbelts. We’ll be landing forthwith,” the pilot announced.

“Iceland?” she tore her eyes away from Jared to watch the approaching landscape out the window. “I stand by mysterious.”

“You’ll see,” he smiled.

Y/N was excited to see what Jared had planned and she could barely sit still while the crew landed the plane and opened the hatch. The air was brisker than she had anticipated and she wrapped the scarf around her neck, slipped the beanie over her head, then grabbed the jacket and mittens. The sun had just started to rise, dusting the landscape with brilliant oranges and pinks.

Jared had slipped on his own jacket and stepped out of the door, holding his hand out to her. “Ready?”

She nodded and grabbed his hand, a smile on her face. A car waited for them on the tarmac and the driver handed Jared the keys as the steward loaded their bags into the back. “We’re going to stop by the hotel first to check in, then we’ll be back on the road in no time.”

Jared maneuvered the roads carefully and they safely arrived at their hotel. As Jared checked them in, Y/N wandered around the hotel lobby taking in the photos adorning the walls. They were filled with meteorological wonders of glaciers and even Grímsvötn, one of Iceland’s active volcanoes.

“Hey, Y/N? We’re all set here. Let’s get up to our room,” Jared held two key cards in his hand and they entered the elevator.

“Did you see any of those pictures? I’d love to see the glaciers and Grímsvötn,” she hummed happily to herself as the elevator ascended to the top floor. He handed her a key card, yelling out the room number as she took off down the hall as soon as the doors opened.

Flicking the card against the electronic lock, she opened the door, revealing a large suite with a balcony and a king sized bed. “Jared, it’s wonderful!” She exclaimed.

“Only the best, remember?” he chuckled watching her excitement, a backpack slung over his shoulder. “I hate to cut the exploration short, but are you ready for our next adventure?”

“Yes! But please tell me?” she bounced on the heels of her boots.

“No, but you’ll find out soon enough,” he laughed. “Come on, let’s go!”

Downstairs, there were three off road four by four jeeps waiting for them. Jared opened the door and helped her up into the seat before sliding in himself. The man driving greeted them warmly. “Welcome to Iceland! Are you ready?”

“Yes!” they said together.

“We have almost four hours until we reach our destination and there are others to pick up,” he informed them as he pulled out into traffic, two more vehicles following them.

“You ever been to Grímsvötn before?” the man asked them as they made another stop.

“What? We’re going to Grímsvötn? You’re taking me to a volcano for our honeymoon? You’re the best husband ever!” She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him as best she could in the tight quarters.

“Oh! Very nice! Congratulations!” The men in the front seat laughed.

~*~

“Did you know that Grímsvötn has erupted approximately sixty times over the last eight hundred years? But they’re mostly sub-glacial, that means under the ice,” she explained to Jared on their way back to the hotel. The visit to the glacier and volcano had been a full day and they were both drained, but it seemed Y/N was intent on using the last of her energy as she explained everything she knew and had learned about the volcano during the tour.

By the time the caravan of jeeps pulled back into Reykjavik, Y/N was sound asleep. Her head laid on his chest, and his arm wrapped loosely around her waist. He jostled her slightly exiting the jeep but he picked her up gently and carried her to their room. It was well after midnight and they could both use a good night’s rest.

~*~

Y/N woke the next morning in the rather comfortable king size bed, wrapped snugly in the down comforter. Day was just breaking, the dim light filtering through the skylight. She stretched and rolled over, thinking about going back to sleep, when she was met with a wall of heated muscle.

“Hmmm, good morning,” Jared mumbled, his voice deeper than usual. “Did you sleep well?” His eyes flickered open, meeting hers.

“Yeah, I guess I was pretty wiped out. That was quite an adventure yesterday. Thank you so much. That was amazing,” she smiled.

“It was my pleasure, and seeing the pure wonder and enjoyment on your face is thanks enough. I wanted this trip to be a journey, not just a destination,” he replied thoughtfully. “Breakfast?”

“Yes, please and coffee, but first, I have to use the bathroom,” she replied, throwing the covers off and making her way to the bathroom. It was huge with a gigantic walk in shower and deep claw foot tub. It wasn’t until she washed her hands that she realized she was still dressed in her clothes from yesterday, sans the sweater and boots. She made her way back to the bed as Jared hung up the phone.

“Room service will be up shortly,” he yawned.

“Did I fall asleep in my clothes?” she asked, sitting at the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, you were out before we made it back, so I carried you up and took off your outer layers. I didn’t want to cross a line,” he replied sheepishly, rising from the bed and rolling the muscles in his back.

It was then that she took the opportunity to get her first good look at Jared, without so many layers. His shoulders were broad and muscular, covered in miles of golden skin. His hips were narrow and his ass… A clearing of his throat made her realize she had been staring and she quickly averted her eyes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. We’re married now. You’re allowed to look, in fact, I encourage it,” he smirked, giving her a small wink as he took his turn in the bathroom. His legs were impossibly long with thick, hard thighs.

After he finished, he threw on a t-shirt just as their breakfast was delivered. Y/N poured them both coffee as he took a seat. They dug into their meals, more ravenous than they realized.

“Exactly how much thought did you put into this honeymoon?” she asked, stealing a piece of bacon off his plate.

“Well, I did a bit of research, learned a few things, called a travel agent, gave a few details, made a few requests and here we are,” he replied, taking some of her fruit.

“What kind of research, Jared” she raised her eyebrows.

“The I talked to your mother kind of research. She shared with me some stories from your childhood and mentioned that you had been studying geology, specifically volcanoes, before your dad struck oil, only to change your major to business, with a minor in geology,” he stated. “Why?”

“It was a lifetime ago. A different lifetime. Things change, priorities change,” she dismissed his question. “Daddy needed my help.”

“You deserve to be happy, too, you know. To have something that is just yours,” he empathized, taking her hand in his. “We both do. To have something that is just ours.”

“I am happy,” she said. “Jared, why are you doing all of this for me? You barely know me.”

“I know enough to know that I like you and I want you to be happy. And we’re married now, so it kinda comes with the position of husband.”

“But…”

“No buts. Get showered, we’re exploring the city today,” he informed her.

~*~

The next three weeks were a whirlwind of travel, sights, sounds and emotions. The plan Jared laid out took them to all the places she had always wanted to visit, to study, to immerse herself in.

The week in Italy was enough to lose herself in, visiting Vesuvius, Etna and Stromboli. She had always dreamed of seeing active volcanoes, but it was more than she ever could have imagined. On top of that Jared had included Mayon Volcano in the Philippines as well as Mount Fuji in Japan.

It wasn’t until they reached their final stop, Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, that they were able to see an actual lava flow from Kilauea. Their hotel, or cottage really, was situated at the edge of the forest. The natural woodwork, open space and large windows gave the feel of living in the rainforest, not to mention it had one hell of a view.

“Jared?” Y/N whispered in the twilight as they shared a bottle of wine, his arm around her waist as they relaxed on the front steps of their small cottage overlooking the nature reserve. They had been in Hawaii for a week, but only had a couple days left and were enjoying as much as they could before heading home.

“Yes?” He looked down at her with such admiration, and something she couldn’t place. Her mind was all over the place, as her heart beat steady in her chest, pounding out a rhythm that matched his. Over the course of the last four weeks, she had gotten more than a glimpse of the man she had been forced to marry. He was kind, generous, humble as well as handsome and playful. He had melted her heart and breathed life back into her, like oxygen fueled a fire. The kisses and touches they’d shared on their journey only fanned the flames.

“I’m happy. I wanted you to know that,” she smiled up at him.

“That’s all I want for you,” he leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, something that had become more and more common, and natural, for the two of them.

“You’ve shown me that I can have more than a career. You’ve given me adventure, spontaneity and fun. You’ve shown me kindness and love,” she murmured against the heat of his strong shoulder.

“I’ll always give you what you need and try to give you what you want,” he promised.

“You made me realize I want more than what I had. You made me realize what was missing the whole time. I want more with you. I want us to be a family. I love you and I want to start a family with you, Jare,” she confessed.

“You lov-, are you-, you want-. You want to have a baby?” he stuttered.

“Yeah, doofus,” she laughed, rising to her feet and holding her hand out to him.

“Oh.. Oh!” he said, as her intentions dawned on him. He rose and took her hand in his, pulling her flush to his chest. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“I’ve never been surer,” she giggled as Jared wrapped his strong arms around her and picked her up.

“More sure,” he corrected her.

“Shut up and kiss me,” she said, her eyes dark with lust.

He carried her through the cottage to the bedroom and gently laid her on the bed, following her down and hovered his long, lean body over hers. Their lips met with a passion and fire that rivaled all the volcanoes they had visited. It wasn’t rushed. It was slow, but needy, as all the emotions and want filled them.

They undressed each other slowly, taking in each soft curve and hard plane. Eyes and hands explored with tentative precision, ghosting over sun kissed skin. Whispers and whimpers filled the room, echoing into the jungle through the open windows. Declarations of love, cries of pleasure, and urges for more.

“Jared!” Y/N moaned, the fire in her belly becoming too much to bear as he thrust home time and time again. “I’m, I’m gon- come with me, Jared. Come in me, knock me up.”

Her words awakened something inside him, like a sleeping beast. His thrusts picked up speed as he spread her legs wider, watching where he disappeared inside her. “Yeah, you want me to fuck a baby in you? Fill you up with my seed?” His breaths were heavy as he fucked into her faster and faster, chasing both their ends.

“Oh god yes! Fill me up!” she screamed, reaching her end. Her body spasmed as her legs trembled against his hold.

“Oh god baby! I’m gonna- gonna fucking fill you up!” Jared groaned as his hips stuttered, his body rigid as he unloaded deep inside her.

Their heavy breaths and the wildlife outside were the only sounds that could be heard as their bodies and hearts calmed.

“That was incredible,” she sighed contently, her hand coming to rest on his chest.

“I don’t think they’ve invented words for what that was,” he chuckled softly, pulling her closer to him. “I love you.”

“I love you, Jared. Thank you for being my air,” she murmured, her eyes fluttering shut and slipping into a restful slumber, dreaming of their life together.

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean @dolphincliffs @mrswhozeewhatsis @meganwinchester1999 @cherrycokegirls1 @closetspngirl @roxyspearing @flamencodiva @blacktithe7 @sis-tafics @just-another-busyfangirl @evansrogerskitten @amanda-teaches @hannahindie @wotinspntarnation @winchesterprincessbride @winecatsandpizza @kickingitwithkirk @wi-deangirl77 @hobby27 @mogaruke @gh0stgurl @paintrider13-blog @alleiradayne @idreamofplaid

Jared’s Menagerie: @mtngirlforever @dean-winchesters-bacon

Others that might be interested, or have asked to be tagged: @saxxxology @thecleverdame @crispychrissy @cosicas-cuquis @wilde-abandon @fatalcrossbow @iamme0456 @kornerstone234

#spnkinkbingo #spnfluffbingo2019 #btz bingo #Jared Padalecki #jared padalecki au #jared x reader au

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dailytomlinson · 5 years

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Louis Tomlinson may be one-fifth of one of the biggest boybands in the world, but there's so much more to know about the singer than the fact he was in One Direction. Now that he's getting on with his solo music career - AND just dropped his amazing new single 'Two Of Us', Louis is a major household name across the world.

Here's everything you need to know about Louis Tomlinson:

1) Louis’s middle name is William.

2) Louis Tomlinson was born on Christmas Eve in 1991.

3) Louis is the oldest member of One Direction. He’s 13 months older than second eldest Zayn Malik.

Check out One Direction through the years: View Gallery 11 photos 1 / 11 One Direction © Shutterstock One Direction auditioning on The X Factor One Direction formed on The X Factor in 2010. All five members auditioned as individual contestants and were put together as a group by Simon Cowell.

4) Louis Tomlinson's star sign is Capricorn. Apparently, typical Capricorns live by the motto, ‘Slow, steady and win the race.’

5) Louis was brought up in Doncaster, South Yorkshire. Other famous people who hail from the town include Jeremy Clarkson, Kevin Keegan and Brian Blessed!

Jeremy Clarkson JEREMY CLARKSON AND BRIAN BLESSED © SHUTTERSTOCK 6) Louis once said that he is a big fan of girls who eat carrots!

7) If Louis had a superpower, he would be able to fly.

8) Louis’s favourite band is The Fray.

9) Louis’s favourite song of all time is ‘Look After You’ by The Fray.

10) Louis’s celebrity crush is Natalie Portman and his man crush is Robbie Williams - who he recently sat next to on The X Factor judging panel.

11) He also once said that Robbie is his biggest role model, telling Metro Radio "I’ve got a massive musical icon and that’s Robbie Williams. We actually got to sing with him on The X Factor and it was absolutely amazing."

X Factor ROBBIE WILLIAMS, AYDA FIELD, LOUIS TOMLINSON AND SIMON COWELL © SHUTTERSTOCK 12) Louis has approximately 1 minute and 30 seconds of solos on ‘Up All Night’ – the second least behind Niall Horan.

13) Louis auditioned on The X Factor by singing a version of Plain White T’s ‘Hey There Delilah’. He got a clean sweep of yeses from the judges.

14) Louis's parents are Johannah Deakin and Troy Austin. They split up when Louis was young, and he eventually took on his stepfather Mark Tomlinson’s surname. Johannah sadly passed away in 2016, Louis paid tribute to his mum on the anniversary of her passing.

15) Louis has five younger half-sisters - one on his father's side (Georgia), and four on his mother's side (Charlotte, Félicité, and twins Daisy and Phoebe).

16) When he was just 11-years-old, Louis had a role as an extra on ITV drama_**_ Fat Friends. His newborn sisters Daisy and Phoebe starred as babies on the show.

17) Spurred on by his appearance on Fat Friends, Louis attended acting school in his spare time and eventually had small parts in 2006 ITV drama If I Had You! and Waterloo Road.

18) When he first auditioned for The X Factor, Louis was a sixth form student at Hall Cross School in Doncaster.

19) Louis also attended The Hayfield School in Doncaster, but dropped out when he failed his first year of A-levels.

20) Louis had a number of part-time jobs before The X Factor, including working at a local cinema and as a hospitality waiter at Doncaster Rovers Football Club.

21) As a student, Louis played the lead role of Danny Zuko in a high school production of Grease. He says playing the part gave him the confidence to audition for The X Factor.

22) When he was younger, Louis wanted to work on a farm.

23) Louis would love to copy Michael Jackson and have a pet monkey. He said, "I'd like to adopt a chimpanzee and build an eternal friendship, that would be amazing."

24) Louis’s favourite colour is dark red.

25) Louis is a big fan of Las Vegas rockers The Killers. After seeing them perform at V Festival, he tweeted, "Watching Mr Brightside live last night was unbelievable. LOVED The Killers!!"

Louis Tomlinson ✔ @Louis_Tomlinson Watching Mr Brightside live last night was unbelievable. LOVED The Killers !!

22.8K 6:09 PM - Aug 20, 2012 Twitter Ads info and privacy 30.4K people are talking about this 26) Louis suffers from a ringing noise in his right ear. Although yet to be officially diagnosed it’s thought it could be tinnitus which can lead to deafness if untreated. He once said, "I am going slightly deaf in my right ear. It’s tinnitus, something like that," before joking that it was because of screaming fans.

27) According to his bandmates, Louis has the smelliest feet in One Direction! Niall once said, "Louis wears plimsolls with no socks so his feet get very sweaty and the sweat is captured. If we are on a bus or something and he takes them off we all pretty much start gagging."

28) Louis was given a telling off by police when filming the ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ video Los Angeles in July 2011 for his erratic driving. Afterwards, he explained, "I got pulled over by the US police. They thought I was all over the place. The officer goes, 'Listen, man, I can shut this thing down if you carry on driving like this. You're driving like a maniac.' And I was like, 'Man, put the gun down. I don't want no trouble.'"

WATCH: One Direction - What Makes You Beautiful (Official Video)

29) Louis says that he and his 1D bandmates are like brothers. Admitting that they occasionally bicker, Louis told Digital Spy, "Because we're around each other so often it's like arguing with your siblings. You fall out with them, go away and have a bit of a paddy, then come back and get over it."

30) Just like Zayn and Harry Styles, Louis supports Manchester United Football Club.

31) Louis’s favourite track on ‘Up All Night’ is the Ed Sheeran-penned track ‘Moments’. The track appears on the deluxe version of the record.

32) If Louis could give anyone a tip when auditioning for The X Factor it would be "just be yourself and really try and get your personality through in your song choice and interview."

33) Louis once owned a Porsche Boxster and sold it on eBay in 2012 for £30,000.

34) When Zayn’s ex-girlfriend Rebecca Ferguson took to Twitter to complain about being overworked by her management, Louis had very little sympathy! He wrote in a now-deleted tweet, '@RebeccaFMusic Success is impossible without proper hard work.'

Rebecca Ferguson REBECCA FERGUSON © SHUTTERSTOCK 35) Louis loves to party! He once told TOTP magazine, "To be honest, I’m sure the majority of 20-year-olds go out and party. I’m not going to feel oppressed."

36) Louis is a giver and not a taker. In fact, there’s nothing he enjoys more than giving his friends and family presents. His late mum Johannah once told Sugarscape, "He’s not a materialistic person himself, but he likes to give people things. He spoils me and the girls and he's happiest doing that."

37) Louis once said that he likes snuggling up in bed with one of the One Directioners... HARRY! He said, "A few weeks ago I made a cup of tea, then went and got in bed with Harry and we watched a show called something like The Top 50 Boybands Of All Time." Nice!

38) Apparently, Louis has revealed that his least favourite food is baked beans.

39) Louis once said his favourite country is France.

40) Louis is an avid fan of surfing. In fact, he loves the beach so much he says he’d like to get married on one.

41) It takes over 30 minutes for Louis to get his hair ready in the morning.

42) Louis admits he’s a really bad cook. Despite this, he appeared alongside Harry in a cooking segment on This Morning in September 2011.

Louis Tomlinson HARRY AND LOUIS WITH THIS MORNING PRESENTER RUTH LANGSFORD IN 2011 ©

43) One of Louis's favourite mottos is, "Live life for the moment because everything else is uncertain."

44) The two traits Louis looks for in a girl are confidence and a good sense of humour.

45) In 2011, his mum Johannah and stepdad Mark split up. Speaking about his mum, Louis said, "It must be so much harder for her because I’m living this fantastic life and being so busy every day whereas she’s still in the old life I was in but without me... It must be really difficult for her not to get upset."

46) Louis’s pet hate is when people chew their food too loudly.

47) Louis has size 10 feet.

48) A man who works in the music industry once tried to have a snog with Louis! "It was a press guy.... he just started going in for a kiss!" said Louis.

49) Louis loves Marmite and has big dollops of it on his toast.

50) Louis admits that he’s a messy person. In fact, he hasn’t met anyone who’s messier than him!

51) Louis is pretty decent on the piano and he loves to play ‘Mr Brightside’ by The Killers.

52) Louis says he’ll "never get used to" the adoration he receives from fans. He once said, "At the end of the day we’re doing something that we really love and to be appreciated for that is really nice."

53) Louis’s favourite TV shows are Misfits and One Tree Hill.

54) If Louis wasn’t a multi-million selling pop megastar, he reckons he’d be training to be a drama teacher.

55) If Louis could visit any planet it would be... Narnia. Erm, it’s a fictional place Louis!!

56) Louis hates rumours, especially when they involve Harry and himself. In a Tumblr interview he explained, "Me and Harry are best friends, people look into our every move. It is actually affecting the way me and Harry are in public, We want to joke around but there seems to be a different rumour every time we do anything."

Louis Tomlinson LOUIS AND HARRY SINGING TOGETHER IN 2015

57) Louis is prone to sleepwalking and once tried to get into Niall’s bed!

58) Louis once said that if a movie was made about his life, he’d like Leonardo DiCaprio to play him.

59) The first time Louis ever spoke to Harry was in the toilet at The X Factor auditions in Manchester.

60) Louis is a big fan of silly string! He’s sprayed it on stage at gigs, press conferences and even at a security guard who refused to let him speak to fans.

61) When he was 14, Louis played lead guitar in a band called The Rogue with his schoolmates.

62) When One Direction formed, Louis’s big ambition was to go "straight to the top." Proof that dreams come true!

63) In August 2012, Tulisa prank called Louis during a live webchat. When Louis answered she spoke to him in a Donald Duck voice in front of thousands of viewers. The N-Dubz star tweeted afterwards, 'soz babe we had 2 get ya! Thanks 4 being a laugh n entertaining us!'

Tulisa ✔ @officialtulisa @Louis_Tomlinson soz babe we had 2 get ya! Thanks 4 being a laugh n entertaining us!

266 8:23 PM - Aug 5, 2012 Twitter Ads info and privacy 579 people are talking about this 64) Louis was fined £80 for speeding on the way to V Festival in 2012. It’s reported that he was going 48mph in a 40mph zone. He’ll also get three points on his licence. Ouch!

65) Despite having smelly feet, Louis is a big fan of shoes! His favourite types are chinos and Toms.

66) Another of his favourite mottos is "live fast, have fun & be a bit mischievous."

67) If Louis was Simon Cowell for the day, he says he’d go on a date with Susan Boyle.

After his successful stint on last year's The X Factor, Louis delighted his fans in March when he dropped his amazing new single 'Two Of Us'.

The song, which is adored by fans, is a tribute to Louis' late mum Johannah Deakin. Johannah left behind seven children, including Louis, at the end of 2016, when she lost her battle with an aggressive form of leukaemia at the age of just 42.

Louis' track 'Two Of Us' features the lyrics, "I know you'll be looking down, swear I'm gonna make you proud. I'll be living one life for the two of us."

The article was followed by a tweet:

#tow of us #two of us promo #louis tomlinson #harry styles #070319 #metro #press

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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589

Have you ever been served breakfast in bed? Sure. When we don’t feel like having breakfast at the table together as a family, my mom just brings up food for us when we wake up. What is the most challenging meal you have ever cooked? I don’t cook or bake at all but back when we had to do it in home ec, I remember how hard macarons were to make (if this counts). Baking in general demands precision, it’s just that the skill needed to make macarons is pumped up to the max. Are you one to approach others, or let them approach you first? I let people approach me because I’m shy most of the time. When was the last time you took painkillers? Saturday. My toothaches struck once again and I didn’t want to be burdened while at dinner with Gab, so I had to take a painkiller for the second time that day. Have you ever picked flowers out of someone else's garden without asking? No. That’s kind of a dick move.

Who did you give them to, or did you keep them for yourself? What is your favorite thing to do as a little kid? I loved being allowed to play outside. My grandma was very strict with us and would sometimes not allow us to go outside and play with our neighbors – if we were allowed, we only could from 4 to 6 PM. So whenever we got to go out and play it was always really fun, even though I almost always went home sporting a new gash, cut, or wound. Then when we came back home, Nickelodeon would usually have an awesome program schedule, followed by changing the channel to Cartoon Network at 7 so we could watch Pokemon, then we’d flick the channel to Disney because Mr. Bean airs around 9 PM. Are holidays as fun for you now as they were when you were younger? I looked forward to holidays more when I was a kid because it was before a bunch of my relatives migrated to different countries. It’s never the same without them, which is often the case these days. Do you find non-fiction to be boring? I find fictional works to be boring, but I can spend hours reading non-fiction content. Are you a punctual person? Or are you always late? Yes, I hate being late. Do you own a thesaurus? Do you actually use it? I owned a thesaurus because I had to back in grade school, but I’m not sure if I actually ever threw it out or not. Nowadays Google can easily be a thesaurus if I need it for that purpose. What is the longest essay or research paper you have written? It was our final paper for my communication research class last semester. If I remember correctly, it has about 90 pages. Do you ever write your own short stories? I tried doing it when I was 12 or 13, but I didn’t find it fun. Also I was never creative enough for it and got bored real quick. I envy people who can write very good short stories. Have you ever won money by entering a contest/raffle? Raffles are a Filipino favorite and we have a lot of them, so yeah I’ve won some cash here and there. Have you ever lost something very valuable? Of course. The first valuable thing I ever lost was my first ever cellphone, given to me as a 7th birthday gift by my parents; I lost it while on a school field trip. I’ve always felt bad about that. Have you ever lost something with a lot of sentimental value? In high school, I lost a watch that my mom gave me. It was a super pretty watch and again, I haaaaated myself when I realized I had misplaced it. Have you ever been close to drowning? Yes. When I was nine, my cousins and I went for a swim in our clubhouse’s pool. I was swimming at the deep end – which I normally could handle by myself – but suddenly one of my cousins grabbed at my legs which kept me from being able to lift my head above water because it felt like I was being dragged further down. Have you ever had a panic attack? Yes. I haven’t had one in a couple of years though, so I guess that’s good. What stores do you go into when you go to mall? I’m not a big store person when I go malling, but when I do stop by shops, it’s usually stationery stores, bookstores, or stores that sell cute novelty stuff like weird coasters, flasks, alarm clocks, etc. Do you ever stop to eat in the food court? Only if we want a quick snack to get by, like shawarma or corndogs. As much as possible I like eating in sitdown restaurants. Do you find it easy to relate to other people? These days, yeah. I’ll admit that when I was younger, I used to put a premium on being ‘not like other teenagers’ BAHAHAHAHA YUCK, but tbh there’s no shame in being able to relate to many others in terms of music or TV shows or other similar interests. It helps me gain friends, which is always a plus. Who is your favorite philosopher? I hate philosophy more than anything else in this planet. What is your favorite song to sing? OMG Thinking of You by Katy Perry easily takes the cake for this one. Do you consciously try to be unique, or do you just be you? I’m just me for the most part. Do you worry about being judged by other people? Sometimes, but it’s usually for stuff like having to borrow a pen in class, or having to ask for a piece of yellow pad – basically stuff that would make people think I was irresponsible haha. If someone doesn't like you, do you usually want to know the reason? Yes, just out of curiosity. But I wouldn’t feel like it’s the end of the world if I never got to know why. When was the last time you told someone something really important? A couple of weeks ago; I had to tell Gab I passed out quietly for a few minutes in the restroom in the middle of PE. The workout was too difficult and I didn’t have my water bottle with me that day, so I felt queasy quickly. Have you ever lost a large amount of money? Thankfully, no. The only time I lost my wallet, there was only around ₱600 in it. Have you ever tried to blame something you did on someone else? I mostly did it when I was a kid and blamed my little sister or brother for something. Did that person get in trouble, or did the plan fail? Failed, obviously.

What is the weirdest hairstyle you have ever had? I never went with weird hairstyles but my worst look will always be rebonded hair. I have a square face with a very strong jaw; completely straight hair has never suited me. Describe the ugliest pair of shoes you own? I don’t think I’ve ever allowed myself to wear shoes I thought were ugly, haha. How many times a day do you look in the mirror? For how long? Maybe a few times. Once before I leave the house, then maybe one or two times from my webcam just so I know how I currently look while in school, then again when I get home. Are you ashamed to leave the house when not looking your best? Not ashamed, just uncomfortable. If you are antisocial, WHY are you that way? That’s a legitimate personality disorder and I prefer we didn’t throw that word around like it’s nothing. Are you modest? Well I used to be, back when I was in Catholic school. I still hold some traditional sentiments here and there but I wouldn’t call myself modest. What is your favorite singer? Beyonce or Hayley Williams, for sure. If you could relive one day from last year, what day would it be? Why? April 21, 2018! It was my birthday and my first time driving out of town by myself. Gab and I went to Nasugbu for a day trip to the beach and Tagaytay for dinner. It was soooooo so fun even though we were exhausted afterwards and I was fighting to keep my eyes open while driving by that evening. What is something that you are afraid to fail at? Something I’m supposed to be really good at, like writing. What would happen if you did fail at it? I’d feel insecure for a long time and for that period, no one would be able to encourage me and make me feel better. Do you ever worry about your loved ones dying? Ever since my grandpa and now Nacho passed away, yes. What is the cutest thing a guy could do for a girl? The cutest thing anyone* can do for anyone* is making time for them, I guess. I’m not very picky when it comes to showing love. Stuffed animals--immature, or should everyone have one? Neither. I don’t mind them but I don’t hate them. What do you like in your breakfast burritos? I don’t think I’ve ever had a breakfast burrito. What restaurant would you choose to go to for breakfast? Rustic Mornings, La Creperie, or Eggs For Breakfast! How much money do you think you cost your parents? Millions. Do you have good hand/eye coordination? Only when it comes to table tennis. I generally wouldn’t call myself skilled at catching stuff. Can you do a flip on a trampoline? I haven’t tried, and I think I’d be too scared to anyway. Do you remember the last time you climbed a tree? I don’t think I’ve ever climbed a tree...most trees here are riddled with red ants. Did you ever lie on your back and pick shapes out of clouds as a kid? Sure, but I didn’t do it all the time nor does it feel nostalgic to me. Do you watch any Japanese anime? Other than watching Pokemon when I was a kid, no. Is there a foreign culture you are interested in learning more about? I’m always interested in learning all foreign cultures. Do you let your emotions get the best of you in a fight? Sometimes. Do you know anyone whose reputation has recently been ruined? That’s what happened to Nach. It’s why I was always more gentle in dealing with him than everyone else, because I knew just how damaged his rep was after what happened. I didn’t want to add to that anymore. When did you first get a cellphone? I got my first one on my 7th birthday. Do you have your own laptop computer? Yes. How about your own digital computer? Like...a cellphone or calculator? I guess, yeah lmao. Do you drive your own car, or your parents? I’ve been given my own car for me to drive, but my parents bought it and own it. Say something inappropriate? Cunt. Always been my least favorite bad word. What were you doing before you started taking this survey? I washed the dishes. Describe the best summer you ever had? I don’t like my summers. It’s not a part of the year I look fondly on. Do you eat any meat other than turkey on Thanksgiving? I don’t celebrate that holiday. Did you attend a pre-school? My only other school apart from UP has a preschool, elementary, and high school. I studied there for 14 years. We also have a college, but it’s in our Makati campus. Do you remember what it was like to learn to count to 100? Not really. What is something you lost in the process of growing up? The concept of looking to my mom if I have any problems. Do you wear any wristbands? If so, what's on them? Nope, I do not. What was the last picture you were in? We took a family photo over lunch yesterday. Did you have required reading material in high-school? We had required reading material from Prep all the way to senior year in high school. Do you keep your room organized? I try to. It becomes messy slowly over time but I always end up tidying my room. Do you vacuum daily? I don’t. How many board games do you own? A couple. I have Scrabble, Pictionary, and Trivial Pursuit. Own any books? ...Of course. Recently checked any books out from the library? Nah that was about a month ago. I recently returned a (overdue) book though. Does your cat give you kitty kisses? My dog gives me a single lick to the face whenever I come home from school. What’s in your make-up bag? I don’t have one.

#survey #surveys

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wargreyfics · 6 years

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Maths, My One True Weakness (Part 2)

SUMMARY:

Naomi meets up with Asa at the public library, as promised. He tutors her as he is supposed to, but she discovered more things about him as their afternoon go on.

The library wasn’t a place she frequently visits. In fact, she had zero memory as to when she came to the town’s public library the last time. She doesn’t hate reading, it’s just that the books she reads are those she has really strong interest in.

A soft creak announced her presence to the middle-aged lady sitting behind the counter. She greeted her with a warm smile, which Naomi greeted back with a slightly more awkward smile, before she returned her attention to the computer. That left Naomi free to roam around the place to find her tutor.

She found him sitting at one of the tables next to the aisle that says ‘Fiction: G-H’, reading a big, thick book that easily splayed open without his fingers needing to press the pages apart. A large pair of black headphones hugged his head, over his ears. She was amused at the thought that he still found this place not quiet enough that he had to bring such large headphones. He probably couldn’t hear her coming, so when she stood next to him, she gently placed her bag near him. The shudder from the impact her bag made with the table alerted the half-blind young man.

“Oh, hey, you’re here,” he said, hastily turning off his music and taking off his headphones. Something that looked like a smaller earphone tumbled off from his right ear, and noticing he dropped it, he caught it in his hand before placing it in the breast pocket of his shirt.

“Why are you wearing an earphone inside a headphone?” Naomi asked, sitting next to him.

“It’s my aid,” Asa replied quickly. His face slightly red, flustered from how awkward and stupid he was for hurrying. He realized he didn’t need to be such in a hurry.

“Aid?”

“Yeah, my hearing aid. I’m deaf—well, only on this side…” he explained, one finger made a circling motion in front of his right ear.

“Oh… Sorry…”

“Nah, no, it’s fine. It’s not like it’s obvious that I’m half-deaf, not as obvious as my being half-blind.”

“Then...why aren’t you wearing it right now?” She pointed at his breast pocket where he dropped the hearing aid into.

“Don’t need it. The library’s quiet, I can hear you just fine.” His eye darted to her bag, trying to steer the conversation away from his handicaps. “So? Which one do you have problems with?” he asked.

“Everything!” Naomi replied with a gusto, taking all of her textbook and notes. “I’m sorry, but please start from the beginning of this term.”

Asa gulped; not because he was afraid of having to explain half a term’s worth of math equations, but he basically gulped for her sake. “You do realize we have only about two weeks before midterms, right? You sure you want me to cram that much in this little amount of time?”

Naomi pouted, acknowledging that he was right. She had thought about this and it scared her. “W-well...let’s just...start with the first half of the first chapter, then see if I can handle them or not.”

“Fair enough. Alright, let’s not waste anymore time.”

Asa was quick to turn into tutor mode, and he was quite the stern tutor at that, too. Whenever Naomi lost focus and started going off on a tangent, Asa tapped her on her arm with the back of his hand, accompanied with a sharp, “Focus,” jabbed at her. It happened several times during their first two hours of tutoring; Naomi was obviously trying to make the suffering much more bearable, but when she tried to do so, Asa noticed, she really attempted to steer every attention away from maths. Asa’s main struggle was to keep her listening to him.

Naomi still hated maths, and despite her multiple attempts to escape from her tutoring, she found herself somewhat understanding the formulae she never understood before. Granted, Asa had to speak to her as if he was speaking to an elementary student, because the fancy math terms escaped her. He used Naomi’s strong tendency to make fun rhymes to her advantage, which works awesomely with trigonometry. And three long, arduous hours later, the older of the two decided to end the tutoring session, much to Naomi’s relief.

She stretched her arms up, groaning with relief. “Oh my goooooood! My head is gonna explode!”

“You’re fine. We managed to cover through our goal, didn’t we? You can go home now, eat...ice cream, I dunno. Whatever you like.”

“I like ice cream.” She packed her books and notes back into her bag, while Asa grabbed the large book she found him reading in the beginning of the day. She watched him rummage into his bag and pulled out a bookmark with a picture of some character from a game that was currently quite a hot discussion topic, typically among the boys. She kept hearing how said game made them frustrated, but at the same time excited. He slipped the themed bookmark about a fifth through the thick book. He had read that much since his arrival to the library and their meeting?

“Not only are you apparently pretty shy, but a straight-A student, a bookworm, and a gamer, too? You’re actually a pretty big nerd, aren’t ya?” Naomi teased with a big wide grin plastered on her heart-shaped face. Her remark earned her a blush and stammers from the eleventh grader.

“Y-yeah? So what if I’m a nerd?” he retorted, trying to remain stalwart.

Naomi giggled. “Nothing. It’s just really interesting that everything is packed in such a tall package of muscles and rage. You honestly strike more as the typical jock type. Hold on...don’t tell me you play football too?”

Asa sighed and walked to the counter. There, Naomi learned that Asa and the librarian seemed to be very familiar with each other, judging by their small talk. A small talk which he cut off to talk to her. “I can play football, but not part of the club. I’m not in any clubs at school, actually.” He paused and thought about his next words. He wanted to decide against it, but he ended up telling her anyway. What harm could there be? “I do go to the gym and take wrestling three days a week, though…”

“Ha! That still counts as a jock thing!” Naomi laughed as they exited the library. “You must be popular, huh?”

“I dunno. You don’t seem to know me, otherwise you wouldn’t be talking to me. Your friends, though, oh I know they know who I am. They don’t want you to talk to me.” Asa grimaced; he acted like he didn’t care but he paid close attention to Esh-baal and Eve’s body language, how they just succumbed to Naomi’s genuine wishes to present him with her homemade lunch. He could tell at least one of them was ready to pick up a fight with him should he harm this tiny blond girl. A lot of the students wanted to fight him, not just the bullies.

“Oh, they’re always in with the gossips and stuff. I don’t. I’m happy with cooking shows and DIY videos.” She lightly skipped in her steps, contrasting the way Asa took giant heavy strides that made him appear to walk fast. “I must say, I almost think you’d join Kazuo and his guys to gang up on me back then… Glad that wasn’t the case!”

“Who—oh. That prick. Ehh, I’ve had a lot of beef with that kid for a long time. Picked on Glovar when he first entered the swimming club, but my bro defended himself. You just...happened to be his victim at the time, that gave me an excuse to dish some payback. Feels real good.”

“Well, I’m glad my being harrassed turned to be beneficial. Also, it made a positive first impression of you for me!”

Asa raised an eyebrow—well, his only visible eyebrow—at the shorter girl. “Really? You’re not scared, after how I threatened a junior off a window that one time?”

“Now that I know what a big nerd you are, no! Besides, you were saving your brother, weren’t you?” she asked, tilting her head slightly to the side, a smile sitting on her face. “You’ve been nothing but a pretty nice jock-nerd combo to me this whole time.”

The tall young man shifted his mouth and ground his teeth together to hold back a big bright blush. “Okay, enough with the labels.” His eyes looked up momentarily as they arrived at a crossroads and stopped to turn to her. “Which way’s your house?”

“There,” she pointed straight ahead, “at Clementine Road. Where’s yours?”

“Same way, but two blocks further at Cherimoya. But I’m meeting up with my sister this way,” he said, pointing to the road to his left.

She giggled, knowing they didn’t live too far apart. “Nice. Still in the ‘Fruity District’,” she giggled again, this time at her own nickname for the area of their houses. The roads were, indeed, named after fruits. But then her brain tuned in to another piece of his sentence. It made her freeze for a moment. “Wait wait wait… Sister? I never—”

“You know her,” he cut her off, “she goes to the same school as us.”

“What grade? Is she younger? Older?”

“Not a student.”

“A teacher?! Which one? Tell me!” She hopped towards him, standing as close as possible in front of him, eager to know.

“I’ll give you a clue: she teaches English.”

It wasn’t much of a riddle; she gasped with the answer somewhat choked up behind her voice. “Miss Cayaditto?! She’s your sister? But your last names...oh, wait, she must be married.”

The way she reacted to the revelation amused him, Asa had a good chuckle out of it. “No, not married. Not yet. But, yeah, she’s my sister. Okay, technically not, but we used to grow up in the same house before she moved out with her boyfriend. Uh, long story. I’d tell you when I’m not in such a hurry.” His feet moved towards the road that lead him to his sister, while Naomi to her house.

Naomi understandingly nodded and headed towards her home. “No problem. See ya!” She started walking, but turned around before both of them departed too far. “Wait! Asa!” she hollered. She made sure to holler as loud as she sanely could, remembering that he was half-deaf. Luckily, not many cars were around at the moment. “Can I eat lunch with you again?”

Asa didn’t answer immediately. His eye was searching for an answer on a blank sidewalk tile, his lips pursed. Soon, his hand cupped his chin. He glanced quickly at her, only to find her eagerly waiting for an answer—which she expected to be ‘yes’ judging by how hopeful she looked. He thought Grimoaldo had given her the warning, he thought Esh-baal and Eve had warned her. Either they actually failed to do so, or this girl just had the determination the size of a kaiju. He sighed through his nostrils. “Yeah, only if you promise to focus when we meet again tomorrow. And, uh, if your math grade doesn’t improve the next pop quiz, no more VIP rooftop lunch for you. Copy that?”

Her eyes and face beamed. She striked a saluting pose with a gusto. “Sir, yes, sir!” she exclaimed, followed by a series of giggles. Asa returned her salute out of amusement, though his gesture had less oomph in it. They saw each other off for the second time, and for real.

Asa thought back of his decision; worrying if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He was mainly influenced by what she said; after purposefully building an intimidating image throughout his school years, it felt pleasing to find someone who saw past that, and he clung to the sentiment. Maybe he shouldn’t have, but for once, he wanted to go against his harder, colder instincts.

#writing #aruni writes #amwriting #ya literature #yalit #original characters #asa shirmi #naomi summers #ocs #domestic verse

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onceuponamirror · 7 years

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little bells

///// CHAPTER 2

summary: She just wanted to close the book, but all chapters are meant to be read.

Or, how she accidentally willed a boyfriend into existence.

fandom: riverdale ship: betty x jughead words: 9k chapters: 2/4

[read from the beginning] [read the latest]

The way Betty sees it, she has three options.

Option A is to just to flat out come clean. This is, objectively, probably the wisest move. Betty is not a great liar, whereas Cheryl is an excellent reader between lines, and Veronica could be hurt by the deception. And realistically, she probably won’t get very far into this plan as it is.

All Betty has to do is just sit Veronica down, explain that she’d been overwhelmed in the moment, and hope that Veronica’s well-placed but overbearing sense of duty over Betty’s happiness will subside.

As if.

It’s fairly unlikely that this will at all play out in a way that appeases everyone; Betty knows Veronica far too well to be that naïve.

Cheryl will happily summon a rainstorm of I told you so’s and Veronica will just circle back to her original argument: that Betty shouldn’t be going alone, or better yet, not at all.

And then she’s just back at square one, which is the moral equivalent of clapping her hands over her ears and singing her la-la-la’s while Veronica paces in front of her, demanding they eschew tradition. And Cheryl would probably be in the back, flatly suggesting Betty cut through the red tape and just hire an escort to be done with it.

But Option B is the gamble.

Option B is that Betty should just ask Jughead out, make dating him legitimate, and then, at some point next month, casually drop that she really needs a date to this wedding they’d been vaguely talking about before and try to convince him to accompany her.

And in some regards, this feels like the obvious solution. It certainly wouldn’t be the worst, either.

She’s definitely attracted to him, and rarer still, she even thinks he’s funny. But it would also feel like she was using him, somehow, and she cannot do that, even if she was being generous and saying there’s at least a chance it’s mutual.

Even though the only thing she has to go on is that Nancy said he wasn’t a talker, but he certainly didn’t seem to mind talking to her. Still, that feels like a flimsy basis for romance.

Not to mention that extremely awkward hug outside the building last week, the way he’d barely moved but to pat her on the back, like she was some kind of old, sick dog that he felt sorry for.

Frankly, he’d looked more like he’d been kicked in the stomach than actually enjoyed it, so considering that, she’s definitely not sure of anything. She knows, at least thanks to Nancy’s seating chart, he’s probably still single, but that doesn’t mean that he’s interested in girls, let alone her.

Plus, even if he did agree to one date with her, that’s absolutely no guarantee he’d agree to more, let alone such a big one like a wedding.

So if she asks him out, and he turns her down or they break up, that pretty much kills her plan right there in the cradle. She wonders if maybe that would be for the best, if she should just end this here and now, because really, how well can this end? How can she even actually properly execute it?

Betty can be called a lot of things, but scheming is not one of them.

But she knows her best friend well enough to realize Veronica will never let this go otherwise, so Betty considers Option C, which oddly, and completely illogically, feels like the safest bet.

Option C is just to talk to Jughead, explain what she’s done, and beg him to help her out anyway. At least with that option, there’s the tiniest chance that he’ll take pity on her.

After all, they have already talked about how miserable weddings are, which is why she thinks he might have a bit of sympathy for her situation. She definitely doesn’t know him well enough to ask of it as a favor, however; she’ll have to come up with something to offer him in thanks or payment. She can clean his apartment. Cook him dinner for a month straight? Or edit a manuscript he’s not ready to show Nancy? No, that feels redundant. Why would he want that, when he already has an editor?

She doesn’t even know him well enough to know what he’d want in return, and that feels like a bit of a sign, one that weighs heavy in her stomach as she crosses down the corridor, towards Nancy’s office.

With a big, steadying breath, Betty raps lightly against Nancy’s doorframe. She looks up from her desk, a grin already in place. “Hey sugar,” she greets fondly, folding her arms over her desk. “What’s up?”

“Um,” Betty starts, trying to steel herself. But she’s going to have to sacrifice her dignity several times over for this plan to work, and this, unfortunately, is where it must start. She takes another breath. “Well, I’ll just say it: Jughead…is he straight? Or, at least interested in women?”

Nancy blinks, and then her lips purse into a smile. “Of course, I’ve never asked him, but he once brought a girl to a fundraiser we threw. And based on his choice of heroines, it’s arguable that he’s even got a thing for blondes,” she adds, giving Betty an obvious once over.

Her cheeks warm, and her mouth opens and closes once, simultaneously searching for her next words while warring her instinct to bat away compliments. Luckily, Nancy comes to her rescue. “Let me guess. You want his number?”

Betty laces and re-laces her fingers. “Maybe his email?” She asks, and Nancy smirks, clicking the head of her ballpoint pen very decisively. She swivels back to her computer, types furiously for a few moments, and then copies something down onto a post-it note.

She rips it off cleanly, offering it out with the sticky side stuck to one very pointed finger. Betty scrambles forward to take it, her face still flushed red.

“You two make an odd amount of sense, actually,” Nancy adds, settling back onto her elbows. “Just don’t make things messy for me, if you can. I’d like not to be editing the story about the green-eyed girl who broke his heart next year.”

“The Van Morrison song that never was,” Betty chirps, forcing a smile, even as she privately thinks that of all the people involved in this plan, Jughead has the best likelihood of walking out of this unscathed—but, of course, tells Nancy none of that.

Once back at her own office, Betty closes the door and presses herself against the soft wood grain for a long moment, attempting to bottle her anxiety. She doesn’t know why this makes her feel so uniquely adolescent again; it’s not even a real flirtation, after all.

Obviously, she’s made overtures to men before. In fact, the entire reason she’s in this predicament at all is because of the time she got it in her head that she should try to initiate a relationship with a person who saw her as just a friend.

And here she goes again, with practically the same idea. But this time, Jughead probably doesn’t even see her as a friend. Doesn’t see her as an anything. What is wrong with her?

Perhaps she should start writing cookbooks.

She could call it, A Tablespoon of Salt: Select Recipes For the Hungry and Foolhardy.

Dear readers, simply add a teaspoon of irony, a drop of self-loathing, a cup of wastrel poetry, all the pleases in your kitchen cupboard, and voila! The perfect formula for repeating your past mistakes.

Betty closes her eyes and blows out a breath, gathering herself, and then marches forward to her desk and pulls up her email browser. Jughead’s address is simple, even if she doesn’t totally understand it—jfpj3 at a gmail account. Odd, but her first email address was an ode to a backstreet boy, so she’s in no place to judge.

Hey, Jughead!

It’s Cooper, Betty Cooper. Nancy gave me your email. Had something I wanted to talk to you about. Was just wondering if you’d like to maybe get a drink sometime?

No, no, that sounds terrible. What, is this her first time ever flirting? Is this even flirting? Technically, it’s not supposed to be. Anyway, in addition to trying too hard to be casual, asking to get drinks has too strong a connotation.

She aggressively hits the backspace button until the subject body is empty again, cradling her forehead with her free hand.

Hey, Jughead!

It’s Betty, from Random House and/or the wedding, and/or the time you ran into me under the overhang of the office.

Nancy gave me your email address because there was something I wanted to run by you. Would you be able to meet for coffee sometime?

Best, Betty

She deletes a stupid smiley face from the end of the last sentence and rereads it, her teeth nibbling onto her bottom lip. This could almost pass as a professional inquiry, just vague enough to make him consider it. Betty nods to herself. This could work.

Hitting send before she can think twice, thrice, and then rewrite it four more times, Betty pushes back from her desk, willing herself not to sit there refreshing the page until her fingers bruise.

She decides to go make some tea in the break room, and hides away there, distractedly over-steeping her tea bag, until Nancy and another fiction editor appear in the doorway, in the middle of a conversation.

Nancy flashes her a large, knowing grin when she spots her, and Betty almost knocks over her drink in her haste to flee the room, because she’s apparently still feeling painfully immature about all of this.

But Nancy doesn’t know Betty’s intentions, doesn’t know it’s not real, and that seems to makes it all the worse, because Nancy thought they made sense and it just makes her feel like an asshole.

With nowhere else to go but back to her office, she drags her feet back there, once again closing a door she normally leaves open. She settles into her chair, places the tea mug down with care, and exhales slowly before checking her email.

There’s a response.

Hey Betty,

Yeah, I can do that. Want me to come up to the office tomorrow? There’s a couple of coffee haunts around your building, if memory serves.

-Jughead

It couldn’t have been that easy.

No questioning of her motives, no suspicious doublespeak? Just ‘yeah, I can do that’? And offering to come to her, even?

Blinking, she types back, No need to battle midtown on my behalf! You live in Brooklyn, right? I’m in Greenpoint. We could meet for coffee this weekend? I know a nice little café on Manhattan Ave. Or I could come to you. Just let me know!

A few minutes later, I’m actually in Greenpoint too, or just outside of it, anyway. This weekend is kind of busy for me, in that I’m supposed to be locked away in my room, listening to the new Mac DeMarco album and trying to dissect alt-alt-alt pet sounds. So if it’s all the same to you, I could meet tonight. Lmk.

Betty stares at the email. He wants to meet tonight? She then looks down at herself, at her outfit of a simple blue button up and jeans, of the slight stain blooming on her sleeve from sloshing her tea around, and has a moment of panic.

Fake date or not, she still wants to look a little cuter than this, or at least nominally better than the time he’d seen her outside the building, practically drenched in summer sweat.

But she could always leave a little early to go home and change, and decides that maybe it’s the right move, getting this over with. Waiting till the weekend would’ve just turned her into a wreck.

So she thinks of the nicest bar with the nicest lighting within proximity to her apartment, and writes back, Alright! Broken Land, on Franklin? How’s 7? Thanks!

Yep. See you then.

Once again wondering how in the hell that felt so easy and again cross-checking if Option B could actually work, she returns to the actual work she has to get done today at rush speed; she’s pretty sure her boss wouldn’t mind her taking off early, considering she’s only ever done that so rarely and usually for a long-established appointment, but once a goody-goody, always a goody-goody, as Cheryl might say.

She was too much of a nerd to ever cut class without good reason, and this is all more of the same; if she’s going to leave early, she better be done early too. And at quarter to five, she finishes up her last draft revision and prints it out to reread tonight at home, clicks off her computer, and then darts towards the elevators.

If she hurries her pace walking past Nancy’s office, she definitely won’t admit it.

Once home, Betty throws her bag down in the hallway and rushes to her bedroom.

Before living here, she would’ve never been such an impolite roommate as to drop all of her things by the door and kick her shoes off to land where they may, but the real benefit of her best friend’s dating life is that Betty has inherited Cheryl’s old place and her rent-control, and can finally, for the first time in her life, afford to live by herself.

It’s a little lonely at times, Betty having gotten used to all those years of hearing bumps in the night and the clattering of pans inopportunely and the grinding of coffee early in the morning, but in moments like these, where she’s scrambling for time and running around the apartment in just her underwear, she very much appreciates the solitude.

The train had been delayed between junctions for twenty minutes, which had effectively thrown off Betty’s attempt at being ahead of schedule, and now it’s past 6:30, and really, she should already be leaving to meet him.

She shakes down her ponytail, but finds her hair far too fluffed out a mess to allow to stay that way, so she gathers it back up, leaving a few framing tendrils around her face, deciding it’ll have to do. Despite a constant ebbing sense of comfort in the way she dresses, five minutes before she has to leave is probably not the time to start analyzing her appearance.

Betty digs through her drawers for something that catches her eye, and with half a grimace and half a spark of excitement, grabs for the little brown corduroy miniskirt she only breaks out for dates or at Veronica’s insistence, or usually both. But sometimes showing a little leg makes her feel more powerful, so it can’t hurt this time.

Pulling on a cap-sleeved pink top but deigning to leave the top couple buttons undone, she slips into a pair of low heels and snatches her purse back up from the floor, checking her reflection in the foyer mirror one last time.

Definitely a little more skin than normal, but not more than he’s already seen, thanks to her strapless little dress from the wedding. She applies a shade of blush lipstick and nods to herself in silent encouragement, and then heads out into the night.

She’s only been to this bar a couple of times; Cheryl claims to miss it once every couple of months and insists the three of them meet there so she can properly reminisce her old stomping grounds, as if they all don’t know she’s much happier in the Upper East Side with Veronica. But Betty never minds, as it’s always the easiest trek for her, a simple fifteen-minute walk from her appointment.

The bar is just as she remembers it; ambient, dimly lit but for the string of oversized twinkle-lights lining the ceiling, though this time sparsely occupied, given it’s a Tuesday.

She does a quick scan for Jughead, but appears to have beaten him, so she presses herself against the bar and orders a hard cider. She’s just finished placing her drink request when she feels a presence next to her; Jughead has arrived, dressed in what she’s learning is a typical window display of black clothing and drumming his knuckles along the counter top.

As they’re both standing between barstools, he’s close enough to reach out and hug, but she won’t be repeating that mistake again. He shifts from one foot to another, as if perhaps expecting her to.

“Hey,” he says finally, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye before turning to face her fully. He openly looks her up and down, mouth fidgeting with something else, but the bartender is returning with her drink and looking expectantly at Jughead, so he orders a beer and they wait in awkward silence while the bartender fills a glass from the well in front of them.

He reaches for his wallet, but Betty is already sliding her card across the counter. “It’s on me,” she says, smiling at him. “It’s the least I could do, for you agreeing to meet with me.”

Jughead’s brow very briefly creases, but he nods.

“Want your tab open or closed?” The bartender asks, plucking the card up from the bar.

Betty’s eyes dart to Jughead; if she says to leave it open, it implies she wants to stay here for a while. If she says to close it out, it could say the opposite. But this isn’t quite a social call, and she’s half-sure he’s going to want to run for the hills in about ten minutes, so Betty tells the bartender to close it out. If Jughead has a reaction to that, he doesn’t show it.

“I’ll get us a table,” he says instead, disappearing into the back of the bar with his beer in tow.

After she’s signed and tipped for the drinks, Betty finds Jughead in a lowly lit corner booth. He passes her a thin smile when he sees her, and the room is almost too dark to really tell, but she can almost swear his eyes are lingering on her legs as she approaches.

“So,” she says sharply, setting in across from him.

His eyebrows rise. “So,” he echoes, with an edge of amusement. “You said you wanted to run something by me?”

“Right,” Betty sighs, staking out a stalling sip of cider. Now’s the time to make her decision—Option B or Option C. Please date me, or please, please fake date me.

Golden light glitters in his eye as it falls on her, his expression curious but withheld all the same, and even if she thinks this kind of low, warm atmosphere certainly isn’t making him look less handsome, she can’t quite bring any words to her tongue.

And in a split second, she knows it’s going to be the safe option.

“Um, so I kind of did something stupid,” she says, all in a jumble.

Whatever he’d been waiting for, it certainly wasn’t that. His composure slips, eyes softening as his mouth curls upwards and, if she didn’t know any better, maybe charmed. “How’s that?” He asks, tilting his head at her.

“I did something really stupid,” Betty repeats, taking a big breath, though it does little to calm the ringing in her chest. “I have this friend, right? Veronica. She’s my oldest friend, my best friend, actually, and I love her, but she’s really…she picks a stance and won’t budge on it. No man is an island, but she is a rock. And it’s just hard to argue with her, you know?”

Based on his expression, Jughead clearly does not know, but he at least waits for her to continue.

“The only way to get her off your back is to either bow to what she wants, or to find a solution so perfect that she can’t argue with it,” Betty goes on, wringing her hands in her lap. “So, you might remember from Nancy’s wedding that we talked about this other wedding I have to go to in a couple of months. Um, of this guy I used to…have feelings for, and Veronica was really worried about me going to it alone, let alone pestering me about why I was going at all.”

Jughead nods, still obviously confused, and Betty realizes she’s doing a horrible job of explaining. However, on the bright side, she’s definitely doing a great job at rambling.

“I know it sounds dumb, but I want to go to his wedding because I really need closure from the whole thing. I just…he’s been hanging over my head for most of my life and I’m really trying to find a way to move past it. I think seeing him get married will be the final step,” she says, closing her eyes so she doesn’t have to face his reaction. Not that it helps; she can still feel him watching her.

“That doesn’t sound dumb,” Jughead says softly, and Betty’s eyelids flutter up, unable to stave off the hope blooming in her chest.

“Veronica was just…nagging me like crazy about it, and I’d had a long day at work, and I don’t really like talking about Archie in general, and she just kept pushing and pushing for me to find a date or she was going to come herself—which she can’t, she’s his ex—and I just really wanted her to stop, so I…I sort of said…you and I were already dating.”

Unfortunately for Jughead, he had just been sipping his beer, and he immediately chokes on it, sputtering through his attempt at swallowing. Eventually, he manages it, wiping at his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “What?”

“I know it was so out of line,” Betty says quickly, her eyes round with worry. “We barely even know each other. I mean, we’ve only met twice before tonight. But you were the first person to pop into my head that my friends didn’t already know, and…I just really wanted her to stop pushing me about it.”

He stares at her, jaw ticking, but his face otherwise completely unreadable. “So you’re telling me because…what, you want to clear your conscious? Look, I’m flattered that you’d pick me of all people, but Jesus, Betty, I think you’ll still get into heaven with one little lie on your chart.”

“No, I’m telling you because…that’s part one,” she says, all in one breath. Jughead’s tongue digs into his cheek thoughtfully, as if realizing where this is going. “I’ve thought this through a lot, probably more than I should’ve, and decided if I back out of the lie, Veronica’s just going to start all over again, or worse, try to find me a date herself.”

“I get it. You want me to come with you to the wedding,” Jughead correctly summarizes, settling back in his seat and surveying her. She can’t place the drive behind his eyes, but something moves there, blinking out like little headlights upon a dark road.

She nods. “Well…knowing my friends, you might have to show your face to them at least once, twice tops. Just to sell it and keep them off my back.”

“So, wedding date, and ersatz boyfriend,” he says with a wry grin. Betty takes it as a good sign; he’s at least not storming out. He doesn’t even look annoyed upon second glance, but rather, in the right light, perhaps pleased.

“Okay, yes. But you’d really be saving my skin,” Betty sighs, looking at him. “Just name your price. Obviously, nothing…funny,” she says lamely, and he blanches, for the first time looking offended. She presses her lips together, relieved. She hadn’t really been worried about that, but, like she herself said, she doesn’t really know him. “But I can cook, or um, I’m actually pretty good at fixing things, or—”

“I want to write about it,” Jughead interrupts, looking almost like he regrets the words immediately. He pauses, swallowing whatever thought is there. “No real names, no identifying features or places. But the story of someone consciously trying to move on from an old love is a new angle for me, and the symbolism around all the wedding stuff would be a good dog-ear for that. So…I’ll fake date you, as long as you promise not to sue me for defamation.”

Betty raises an eyebrow. “Are you planning on defaming me?”

“No, no,” Jughead says quickly, leaning forward across the table. “But I’ve been trying to break out from under the reviewing side of things, trying to write articles that actually mean something more. Honestly, this feels like the pitch I’ve been waiting for. So I’ll do it, just let me interview you once, and let me stay…observational. And I’d run everything by you before I submitted it anywhere, so you could pull anything you weren’t comfortable with.”

Of all the things she had been expecting him to say or do, this was definitely not it. She feels almost…disappointed, or maybe a little bit hurt, even as she immediately tries to chide the thought, foolish as it is.

After all, it’s not like she’d been hoping he would just gather her up in his arms, swearing fealty and that he’d do it for nothing but for a chance at her heart, like something cut out of an erstwhile Byronic monologue.

“Okay,” Betty breathes, nodding. “That…sounds fair. Deal,” she adds, offering him her hand to shake on it.

He almost looks surprised that she’s agreed so easily, but then again, she feels the same way. He reaches across the table and takes her hand. It feels warm and alive in her grip, like the fluttering of a moth desperately searching for a flame to call home.

“Okay, then. It’s a deal,” he agrees, and with a growing smile.

They shake, and while Betty distinctly muses that this is the best possible outcome she could’ve hoped for, she can’t quite dismiss that now-familiar tolling in her chest, the little song that urges her to turn back, turn back now.

And yet, unable to help herself, that little moth finds its light, pressed and warmed, and she returns his smile.

#bughead #bughead fanfiction #betty x jughead #i will not make this more than five chapters i will not make this more than five chapters #otherwise known as i'm intimidated by trope tropes and #go easy on me #fics #little bells

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jesbakescookies · 7 years

Text

Too Hot To Handle: Chapter Nineteen

So I kinda wrote a different kind of fanfiction. It’s nothing as in depth as my other fics so I am going to post it here. ENJOY!!

***Actor, Real Person Fanfiction, Walking Dead RPF***

Featuring: Jeffrey Dean Morgan X Original Female Character, Norman Reedus and others.. (FYI this is total fiction, as in I know nothing about JDMs life or that of his real SO and son etc. Because of this, for this work of fiction, they don’t exist. Jeffrey’s been a typical actor playboy dating fellow stars etc. This is written for sick daydreaming pleasure.)

Aria St. James is a busy woman with a thriving restaurant. She thought she had everything she needed until a few famous faces visit her dining room. A tall, dark and handsome actor decides Aria’s just what he’s been looking for.

Rating: Mature : NSFW **dirty dirty**

Aria stood with Javier and Deandra, her two most trusted assistants, as they began to record the cooking competition. The crew was setting up and fixing the lighting, as they got ready to film the first introductions. The only thing keeping Aria in place was the thought of disappointing Jeffrey. She knew he would be fine if she backed out but he wanted to support the charities and the kids who wanted to meet the cast. She couldn't let him down by being a big baby about it.

"I'm going to die." Javier murmured, "right here on the floor, by the stove." Aria bite back her smirk and listened as he continued whispering behind her. "They're all up there and I'm down here and I'm going to die on national television. And everyone's going to laugh at me." "Shut up Javie." Dee hissed, "I'm nervous enough without you doomsdaying it over there." “Fuck you Dee. I’m losing my shit.” Javie hissed back. Turning her face slightly she threatened, "You both better pull your big girl panties on and buck the fuck up or you're dead to me. Got it?" "Yes, Chef." They muttered unanimously. "We're going to cook our fucking amazing food. Same as any other day. Win or lose, we will finish. Got me?" "Yes, Chef." Turning back she glanced around the large studio, the seating for the crowd above them to allow the audience better views of the action. Aria felt as though she were in some kind of gladiator ring fighting for her life by cooking a five course meal. Finding Jeffrey watching, from above, his long arms braced on the rail as he smirked at her. Biting her lip as he winked, Aria let out a slow breath to calm her own racing heartbeat. 'Don't puke. Don't puke, don't puke.' She repeated as they called action.

"So Jeffrey a little bird told me you know the head chef on our team really well." The host commented as they watched the two teams cooking below them. "Is that little bird's named Norman?" "Yes. It may be." "Right." Jeffrey chuckled, shaking his head and ignoring the heat he felt on his neck. "Yes, I know Chef St. James. She's a good friend of mine." "Just a friend?" Licking his lip nervously, he glanced at the petite brunette in her element. She was shouting out orders and cooking something bursting in flames as the alcohol caught fire. The crowd oohed over it, whistles of excitement for the action. The couple talked about what they should say if questioned and both agreed to play off any insinuations. Aria didn't want the show to use them as some spin off plot line when it should be about the charities. Jeffrey agreed wholeheartedly, his eyes softening as he saw yet another side of the woman he loved. She was passionate about more than cooking. She valued generosity and was honorable. He fucking loved her and couldn't see his life without her. Truthfully, he wasn't sure how he survived before she was in it. "Aria's a great girl. She jumped on the chance to do this last minute to help support our charities and give the kids from Make a Wish the opportunity to see the cast. She's a lovely person." "Okay, okay. Jeffrey's being secretive." Laughter broke out and the attention was shifted back to the action in the kitchens. Jeffrey glared at Norman across the set and gave him two middle fingers. He should be furious but knew it was Norman fucking around, making him squirm in front of the cameras. They pulled pranks on each other all the time. He hadn’t meant to push on the one sore spot in Jeffrey’s life. Knowing that didn't mean he wasn't going to smack the shit out of his surrogate brother the next opportunity he got. Shaking his head as Norman returned the gesture, the crowd cheered and whistled when dishes began to come together. Aria was plating away, her concentration on perfecting every element. Javier was buzzing around her calling off times left to cook different components. Her other sous chef moved a tray of fish, the rack sliding right off the baking dish, dumping all of the contents on the floor. "Shit." Jeffrey hissed through clenched teeth as her team scrambled. Javier was gesturing wildly and the woman who dropped the tray looked as though she were about to burst into tears. Aria whistled loud ending their freak out and rattled off instructions. She moved smoothly into creating a completely new dish now that her main ingredient was lost. "Her assistant lost her main component!" The host announced dramatically, before continuing. "Chef St. James is starting over for her fish course. She seems cool headed. Jeffrey is Chef St. James always this collected." "Aria is a machine in the kitchen. I've watched her cook before. Javie and her are a great team. If anyone can pull it off, it's them." Jeffrey watched as they began to finish up dishes, while Aria jumped on creating a completely new dish with different ingredients. She was working quickly, her eyes jumping to the clock as time clicked down. The host began asking questions to the chefs below as they worked. "Chef St. James. You lost your main component on the fish dish. What's your plan?" "Well luckily we have some snapper. It’s not my favorite for this but we are going to modify things real quick here. We all work in the restaurant industry so we are used to improvising when mishaps occur." "Very good. Very good. And you think you'll pull it off for a win. You've got Jeffrey up there rooting for you. He is saying great things about you." "I have faith in my staff here. We're close to finishing up. Hopefully we can live up to Jeff’s praise because I'll never hear the end of it!" She quipped with a chuckle, winking at the man above her. Jeffrey grinned widely at her, his eyes sparking with amusement. "Alright, back to you guys." The co-host said as the camera went to the group upstairs.

Aria could feel sweat dripping down her spine and collecting in the center of her bra. She was used to sweating through clothing while in the kitchen but never while being filmed in HD. Her gaze flicked to the time clock for what felt like the thousandth time, the giant countdown looming over her. "Sauce Javie." She ordered, holding her hand out and taking the pan smoothly without looking away from her task. "Time?" "Five for veg, chef." "Dee?" "Uh... um." her assistant stammered, the woman still frazzled from the fish disaster. "Easy Dee." Aria spoke calmly, glancing at her. "Deep breath for me." "Yes chef." She replied, closing her eyes she took a breath and began working again. After a few more breathes she began rattling off her times, her voice stronger. Aria had begun plating as the time started to wind down. "Snapper?" Aria barked, her hands wiping plates and pouring sauce. "One minute." "Make it forty seconds, or we don't finish." She ordered, moving swiftly down the table to finish off each dish to perfection. "Yes chef!" Dee answered. "Desserts done?" "Yes chef." "Put it in the chiller." "Yes chef." The fish was handed off and the desert were scooped and placed in the freezer. The crowd above was buzzing, their shouts and whistles long ago become white noise to Aria. The cameras being shoved in their face were harder to ignore.

Aria glanced up at the area Jeffrey was watching from and found him smiling at her. Biting back her own grin, she focused on finishing the last few dishes as the crowd began to countdown. "Now, now, now. Javie." She exclaimed, her sous chef finishing off the last plate as the buzzer went off. Aria's let out a huge sigh and hugged Javie and Dee. Julio brought of a shot of tequila, toasting to the end of the cooking portion of the show. Clicking her shot glass with him and her team, Aria threw back the shot with a hiss. "Oh that burns so good." She rasped in Spanish, clutching Julio's arm playfully. Bellowing, the Hispanic man replied, "I'll get you a bottle, it's made at my ranch in Mexico."

The judges were eating her food and asking her questions. Aria tried her best to keep cool but her nerves were fried after such a long day. “So Chef. This is the dish you had to start over after your assistant dropped the main ingredient. Is this something you’ve made before?” One judged asked before sipping the subtle miso broth from her spoon. “No. Everything I’ve made today is an original dish. We have used similar techniques and flavor profiles but they’re all new.” “That’s impressive. You said you are used to working on the fly?” “Things happen in kitchens.” Aria chuckled, “It’s not uncommon to get bumped or knocked into while hustling. We’ve substituted more dishes than I’d like to admit to.” The judges laughed at the statement and then broke down the different components and asking questions about how things were made. Aria could feel the cameras on her and the audience watching. She knew right then that being in front of the cameras was not for her. Aria had no idea how Jeffrey could tolerate all the eyes. Her round was over and she was able to relax with Javier and Deandra as they tasted the other chef’s fares. A hand touched her lower back, making her spin around to find Jeffrey smiling softly. “You did amazing doll.” He rasped, kissing her on the cheek. “Everything looked fucking delicious.” “Thanks.” She murmured, glancing around before stepping up to kiss him. His hand sunk into her hair and cupped the back of her head, deepening the kiss. Pulling back after a few breathless moments, Jeffrey whispered, “I gotta head back but I’ll see you soon.” Watching him walk away, Javier spoke from her side. “I could watch that man walk away all day long.” Snorting, Aria bumped his hip with hers playfully and commented, “Stop objectifying my man.” Chuckling, Javier hooked his arm through hers and replied, “Well he shouldn’t dress so provocatively if he doesn’t want the attention.” “He’s wearing jeans and tshirt Javier.” “Yeah jeans that do nothing but accentuate both his luscious ass and obvious lethal weapon. Goddamn girl, how do you ever leave the house?” “Cheryl asked me the same question and I’ll tell you the same thing. I have no fucking idea.”

Find Chapter Twenty here:

http://jesbakescookies.tumblr.com/post/163234313586/too-hot-to-handle-chapter-twenty

I started posting this fic over on AO3 also. I will probably post in both places since I’m still figuring out AO3 formatting etc.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged for updates. I’ll try my best to remember!

@magikat409 @cadeviolet @aforrester77422 @bethcarli @thamberlina @star017 @bec-brained-blarg @blackmother77 @lascitateognesperanza @adriannawiggins @jdm-negan-mcnaughty @negans-network @negansmutweek @cltex84 @audreychaz @wolfhart18 @ruggedasfuck @warriorqueen1991 @yellatthetopofyourlungs @hotfornegan @jml509 @ladyynegan @ibelongtonegan @uhh-dope @brandi-sykestw @negandarylsatisfaction @londoncapsule @jeffreynegan @morganstopbeinghotkthx @booliemaud @sicksadtired @wolfgirl1074 @sophisti-kate-ed @jdmsgal @sasquaatch68 @spideygeek @arkhamasylumpatient-blog1 @cupcake5365 @jackythemoo @soft-spokenangel @beegnc @mandilion76 @prettyepiic @beautifuldizasterfics @kitcat44 @mayuketchupytostones @ibelongtonegan @azanoni @alyisdead @mwesterfeld1985

#Jeffrey Dean Morgan #jeffrey dean morgan x oc #jdm #JDM x OC #Actor rpf #rpf #negan #negans thirst squad #negans-network #Norman Reedus #walkers #fanfiction #AU fanfiction #too hot to handle #jesbakescookies

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annaisu · 7 years

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Cutthroat Kitchen: Prepare Nyehself!

AN: Cutthroat Kitchen is under rights of Food Network, and I make no claims to it as such. Alton Brown is a real person, and I have no claim to him, either. Papyrus, however much I would love him to be real and to lay claim to him, is in fact created and owned by Toby Fox.

This is a work of fiction created for @undertailfanficcontest starring Papyrus in the humor category! And let me tell you, this was the first time I’ve ever lowered my word count on purpose.

Tags: Humor, one of the characters is a bastard, just deserts, friendship

Summary: Papyrus is quite pleased to be part of a cooking competition where he can show off his skills – only his opponents are paying for him to wear a catsuit and cook with aluminum foil utensils?

Tonight, hopes would be crushed, dreams would be shattered, pride would take a mighty fall, and these chefs were going to spend all their money making sure that the other cooks were the ones to suffer. Alton Brown surveyed his domain, feeling a sadistic glee begin to grow. Yes; this would be quite the fun show.

His introductory speech began playing in the background, just the thing to set the mood as he pulled out a metal briefcase. “I have $100,000 of cold hard cash; four chefs get $25,000 each. But if they want to leave the kitchen with any of this cash, they have to survive three culinary challenges – and each other. In a game where sabotage is not only encouraged, it’s for sale.” Memories of past challenges passed through his mind – ice cream made with liquid nitrogen, ramen without any noodles, his victims forced to cook while stuffed in cumbersome and humiliating ‘superhero’ outfits, cooking in canoes – good times, good times.

The host smiled in the anticipation of the poor, unsuspecting chef’s future frustrations. They thought they knew – they always did – but they were always wrong. Tonight, there was something even more special than normal – something that had never been seen on this show before. They would be host to a true monster – and only time would tell if he was a monster in the kitchen as well.

He hid just out of sight, watching as the four contestants descended from his ‘tower’, one at a time. They had all given their biography to the camera before this event, and he recalled the pertinent facts as they paraded across his kitchen – let them prance while they still have the chance.

Dave was first; a big, burly southern guy. He’d discovered a taste for cooking as a kid and learned his craft from his grandma’s hip – classic southern boy. He was here to show off that country strength, to have fun and make some money. He laid out his fine array of steak knives and cooking utensils, folding his arms across his chest in a gesture of preemptive defiance.

Hank was next; he was much slimmer than the first, well dressed with hair slicked back. He walked as if he was the second coming of Gordon Ramsey, and had the attitude to go with it. He was so proud to serve his food only to the elite, seemed to think that they were the only ones deserving of his work. His little chef kit was well made – likely tailored and made of expensive leather. Alton didn’t bother to hide his grin – he did so love making this type of person suffer.

Their special guest came next, bounding into the room with disturbing levels of energy for what looked like the dead. A tall skeleton, dressed in red booty shorts and a white crop top, proudly took his place behind his stand. He pulled out what looked like a homemade bag, containing his cooking utensils with… faces and hearts stenciled on top? And stickers of spaghetti? The apron he was wearing, somehow securely wrapped around his skeletally thin – and just skeletal in general – body looked well-made and well-loved. Little patches had been torn and sewn up, and there were messily embroidered pictures of… a human and a skeleton holding hands at the bottom? And the words “COOLEST CHEF” splayed across the chest? Well, this Papyrus was certainly going to be a fun contender.

Papyrus was here to show off his cooking skills and represent monster-kind – “WELL, MYSELF MOSTLY, BUT ALSO MY TEACHER AND FRIEND UNDYNE! AND MY FRIEND THE HUMAN, AND MY BROTHER THE SLOVENLY SLOB – SANS, IF YOU’RE LISTENING, PICK UP YOUR SOCK RIGHT NOW! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE EMBARESSING ME WHEN YOU’RE NOT EVEN HERE!” The sheer force of his words, combined with his macabre appearance, created quite the frightening visage. Yet, he was wearing a smile, and was radiating a friendly atmosphere – quite the interesting contradiction.

Cynthia was his last victim of the day – and the only female, unless the monster was hiding something unexpected under his short shorts and poofy shirt. She was from up north, divorced and with three kids. After returning to college, she had opened a very friendly family restaurant. She was here to prove to her Ex that she was worth something, that she could succeed no matter the odds life placed before her, and take home some money to her teenaged kids. She took her place as the last in the row, pulling out a well-maintained kit.

The host prepared himself, ready to introduce himself to the poor saps. Time to see which cooks would trip and fall in a blaze of humiliation!

“HELLO, FELLOW CHEFS!” The monster beamed out, and Hank didn’t bother resisting rolling his eyes. The creature on his right was loud, unsightly, and creepy as heck. The blank, empty black eyes seemed to stare into his soul as he accidently met the thing’s searching gaze. He shuddered, and pointedly turned his back to it, facing his human fellow chef.

“Think you’re suited up for the day?” he casually asked, seemingly unintentionally tugging the collar of his suit as he surveyed the other man’s dress. Plaid shirt, jeans, cutthroat kitchen apron – hmph.

The other fellow – Dave, or something equally plebian, let out a hearty laugh. “I think I’m quite well suited for cooking, thanks, but don’t you have a business meeting to be getting to?”

Hank sniffed, not bothering with a comeback. It seemed that neither of his temporary neighbors would be worth speaking to in the least. He couldn’t help flinching as the skeleton started shouting again, animatedly talking with the woman at the other end. He was quite ready for the host to come out and for this farce to begin.

Alton did appear, with a casual suit and a bombastic attitude – quite the match for the figurative bombs he would be dropping throughout the show. At the beginning of the round, he’d assign a dish, and they’d have 60 seconds to collect absolutely everything they would need to cook said dish from the walk-in cupboard – and they’d only have seconds to compose their mental grocery list.

Alton finally started talking about what he was looking forward to the most – auctioning off sabotages, where he would be encouraged to buy ridiculous inconveniences for his opponents. They would all be given 25 Grand – likely more than any of these plebeians had ever had in their lives’ – to purchase said items, and whatever was left at the end the winner would take home. Of course, Hank himself had no real need for this money, and was already planning to spend all of it tripping up his unworthy opponents – mostly that ridiculous skeleton and the woman, neither of which had any right to be in the same kitchen as him.

It never even crossed his mind for a single second that he might not succeed, so assured of his victory was he. Not a single other person in the room, save the well-dressed host, was even worthy of a second glance or thought of consideration. No, he was the only one that would claim this culinary victory – and he’d make his ‘opponents’ miserable the entire time through!

Alton opened up his briefcase and began offering out the money – two bundles apiece. As the uncultured savage to his left rubbed the money to his cheek, clearly enjoying the entirely new sensation of wealth against his skin, he daintily picked out his two bundles of cash. He looked upon them with disgust, wondering just how many grimy hands had handled these $100 bills.

Returning to beside the metal table in the center of the open area, the host began speaking. “To start everybody off on a roll, I’d like to see a good, breakfast casserole!” Alton cheerfully exclaimed, bouncing slightly as he spoke. Hank jumped as a shriek of outrage sounded from beside him, and Alton paused in his words.

“WAS THAT A PUN?!” the monster exclaimed. Resisting a grimace, Hank pointedly ignored its words. He supposed monsters were far too uneducated and stupid to recognize even the most basic parts of human humor, even of such a low a form as bad puns.

Alton didn’t seem to take offense, though he did seem to be slightly thrown off. “It was indeed a wonderful play on words, only some of the most punny forms of fine humor!” Hank peeked to his right, watching as the skeleton groaned and covered his eyes.

“HUMAN, THAT JOKE WAS ALMOST AS BAD AS MY BROTHER’S – IT WAS COMPLETELY BARE BONES! NYEH-HEH-HEH-HEH!” the skeleton cackled and Hank grimaced .

Alton, contrary to Hank, seemed quite pleased by this reaction. “Well then, I hope the skele-ton more that I have won’t break you before you finish your breakfast casserole ! You have 60 seconds to gather everything you’d need to make this delightful dish, starting now!”

Startled, Hank was a second behind everyone else in grabbing his basket to go shopping – and thus he had the clearest view of when the skeleton did a front flip right over the judging table. He stared, unbelieving, not moving as time ticked by – only when he realized that all the other chefs had made it into the cupboard did he start forward on his own.

What was that skeleton doing?! He tried not to stop and stare as the skeleton darted around the cupboard, items seemingly flying into his basket of their own accord. He distractedly groped for his next ingredient, unable to ignore the spectacle before him.

“30 seconds remaining!” called a very unwelcome voice from just beyond the cupboard door. Hank felt the panic well up, as he realized he didn’t have half the things he would likely need, and could not for the life of him remember the other half. He began grabbing everything he could get his grubby little hands on.

“10, 9” Nonono- Hank knocked the closest things into his basket and ran out the door, knocking into another contestant and cursing as the collision sent several ingredients flying out of his basket as he fought to make it through the door. “4, 3,” he burst free, panting as he staggered back to his station. “2, 1, time’s up!” Discreetly mopping his sweaty brow, Hank surveyed his spoils of war, and everyone else’s as well. He… technically had everything he needed for a good, refined breakfast casserole.

The skeleton, who seemed just as cheery as could be, had a neatly packed basket full of a random assortment of goods – clearly, he’d just grabbed whatever was closest to hand! Hank ignored the hypocrisy of his own statement, peering around the Halloween prop to see the girl’s basket, and then pointedly looked away. She seemed well-enough prepared, so what. The country hick to his left seemed to have filled his basket with bacon, bacon… and more bacon.

Finally, their host was beginning to roll out the sabotages. Hank licked his lips in anticipation, watching as the symbol of the other’s demise was slowly lowered… and revealed to be a roll of aluminum foil. “Win this, and you can force a chef to give up all of their cooking utensils and pots, and they must instead make their own cooking! Who’s willing to start off the bid with $500?”

“$1,000!” he cried, and waited to see if anyone would dare challenge him.

“$1,200,” came the drawling voice on his right. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy, surrounded by people who couldn’t recognize their inferiority.

“$2,000,” he bid back, noticing that the skeleton seemed quite unconcerned. He ended up spending $3,500 on his roll of aluminum foil, but was quite pleased at this deal as he debated on which of his foes should suffer first. The man, for daring to challenge him, or the skeleton for being here and existing in the first place. Yes, definitely the skeleton.

He sauntered up to Alton, trading his money for the foil and dropping it on the thing’s station, noting with disdain the cheap and marked up case that held the thing’s now unusable cooking implements. He returned to his station, satisfied, and ready to win another bid. He ignored the skeleton’s words of, “WOWIE! IT’LL BE JUST LIKE COOKING AT HOME, AFTER UNDYNE AND I DESTROYED ALL OF THE POTS WITH THE FORCE OF OUR COOKING PROWESS!” Was this thing serious?

Hank fumed as the skeleton shaped his cutlery with ease, somehow forming a perfect looking knife and a well-rounded bowl in less than a minute. “I HAVE A VERY SHARP MEMORY, AND I HAVE ENCOUNTERED QUITE THE NUMBER OF KNIVES, YOU SEE! NYEH!” Just ignore the skeleton. “WOWIE, MR. HOST-HUMAN, YOU SURE HAVE A LOT OF ALUMINUM FOIL! LET’S SEE WHO CAN WEAR IT BEST!” Wait, wear it?

Looking up from where his prep work was beginning to come together, Hank saw the judge and the thing both wearing ridiculous looking foil hats. The Judge was wearing something like a pirate hat, and the bag of bones was rocking… an open-faced helmet? Just when did he have time to make that ridiculous thing? Hank had barely even gotten his work laid out properly, yet this thing had already crafted his workstation and costume decorations?

Growling in frustration, Hank was at least pleased to see that the country cad was struggling, if no one else was – thanks to the two other sabotages he’d bought and delivered. Reassured, he returned to his work. He didn’t have all the ingredients that he wanted, but he… probably had enough. Probably.

"Wha- that's totally cheating!" Hank declared, staring aghast at the pearly blue bones flashed around the skeletons station, dancing to a tune no one else could hear. The clubbed end of one bone was stirring the batter, and the skeleton was using the tip of the other as a sharp knife to slice his vegetables into perfectly sectioned slices. The craziest part was how the spinning bone was doing so without any guidance - it was just moving about on its own!

"OH!" The wretched skeleton faced Hank with a beaming smile. "I SEE THAT YOU HAVE NOTICED THE BEAUTY THAT IS MY CONJURED BONES!" The bony chef paused, a worried look sliding across his face. "PLEASE DON'T BE JEALOUS, FELLOW CONTESTANT HUMAN! I REALIZE THAT YOU CANNOT SUMMON BRILLIANT BONES OF YOUR OWN, BUT I AM QUITE PREPARED TO LEND YOU SOME OF MINE! A GREAT PERSON AND CHEF, SUCH AS I, MUST ALWAYS BE GENEROUS AND KIND TO OTHERS!"

Gritting his teeth, Hank barely resisted spitting at the stupid, ugly monstrosity beside him. "I wouldn't touch any of your filthy bones if you paid me." Unnoticed by any of the contestants, most especially Hank who was once again doing his best to ignore everything around him, Alton’s eyes glinted with a brilliant, sadistic new idea.

Hank barely hid the curl of his lip into a sneer as the judge appeared – a woman, of all things.

The judge finally made her decision after trying each dish – she ‘had to’ let the farmer go. Hank watched as the man returned his untouched cash to Alton, calmly accepting his fate and giving Alton a ‘manly’ handshake. Of course Hank had won this round – and he fully expected to win the next two and humiliate everyone else along the way.

Finally, the round was finished, and they had a short break to talk to the cameras while the next round was prepared.

Cynthia’s new friend helped her stand up, using a strength at odds with his skeletal appearance to bring her to her feet as they walked together back to the main room. They’d had a relatively quiet and quite friendly chat between the rounds, but now it was time to return.

Alton waltzed back in with full aplomb, wearing what seemed to be a pinstripe suit at first glance – until Cynthia realized the stripes were actually noodles hanging onto his suit. “Welcome back contestants, and get ready for round two! It’s certain to tie you up into knots, and leave someone stranded! We’re going for a true classic today – spaghetti!”

Papyrus squealed in glee beside her and she gave him a smile, already knowing of his love for the pasta dish. She couldn’t help but take satisfaction on how the sleezeball skittered away in startlement.

“Indeed! You are free to create any variety of spaghetti you wish, this traditionally meaty pasta dish! We have all the ingredients you could need, and your shopping time begins… now.

Cynthia darted off after Papyrus, falling behind as he used the table to launch himself further forward, sketching the list in her head and the best way to grab each item as fast as she could. Having children and anticipating their needs had prepared her for this, and she was at a huge advantage to the business-chef that was only slightly lagging this time.

Making her way back to her station at a much more sedate pace than she had left it, Cynthia double checked that she had grabbed everything that she wanted for her chicken alfredo spaghetti – she did. A glance to the side told her that both of her fellow chefs had collected plenty as well. She thought back to the first round and couldn’t help but to snicker – Hank had forgotten plenty of things in the beginning rush, and she could easily overhear his muttered cursing whenever he came across his missing ingredients.

Turning her attention back to the host, she braced herself for the first sabotage to come. “Well, now that we’ve spent time together and found ourselves closer together, I think it’s time to get closer still!” Alton knocked on the panel, waiting for the item to be lowered before he revealed – a length of rope. Cynthia paled, memories flashing before her eyes. Ropes never meant anything fun for her. “Win this auction, and you can force your opponents to be tied together! They will be forced to cook together, work together, and stick closer than a strand of spaghetti that was left in a pot overnight. Starting bid at-“

“$2,000!” Hank interrupted once again, and she would have glared had she not been silent with fear. She saw Papyrus glance at her out of the corner of his eye, and watched as the eye socket closest to her slowly closed, then reopened. Neither of them said anything.

“Opening bid at $2,000, anyone willing to give me 21-hundred? Anyone, anyone? Going once, going twice – sold, to the gentlemen in the boring suit for two thousand dollars!” She smiled weakly – compared to the host’s noodle suit, Hank’s suit was rather boring, if more expensive than what she spent on groceries in a month. There was a reason she was competing for a cash prize, despite going up on TV against others being entirely new for her.

“Now, I know that this show can be a bit of a cat-astrophe sometimes…” Alton trailed off, opening the panel to reveal a cat headband. “But I was feline like I couldn’t paws-ibly resist! Win this bid, and you can force your opponent to dress up with these adorable cat ears, a matching cat tail,” he continued, pulling up a long tail from beneath the table – it had to be at least 4 feet of solid black faux-fur! “And of course, the cutest part of cats – their little paws!” He ducked his hands under the table once more, this time arising with giant, fluffy gloves that completely encapsulated his hands. “As sweet as they look, these don’t make for the easiest cooking experience! Who’s willing to buy the best catsuit seen on this show yet?”

“$2,000!” Hank predictably exclaimed.

Cynthia decided that this was one outfit she was willing to spend money on, if only for the sheer humiliation value in forcing the uptight man into it. “2,500!”

Hank still ended up being the winner, but he spent a full 5k on a fursuit – and he ended up giving it to Papyrus, who immediately donned the admittedly adorable outfit, beaming all the while. She was pretty sure Hank only had about 11k left.

“Now, people, don’t get yourselves tied into a knot; we’ve got a giant pile of noodles right here that have done that already!” Cynthia groaned as she a wagon with a proper Gordian’s Noodle Knot roll into the center of the room. “Win this auction, and the chef of your choice will have to untangle this knot before they are able to begin cooking!”

She fought long, and Papyrus fought hard, but they both backed down when Hank bid a whopping ten thousand dollars on the ridiculous time waster. He had to be down to the last of his money – he had successfully won every bid so far, often paying exorbitant sums to do so. To her dismay, she was the one gifted with the lovely time waster.

“Now, I know we had someone who wouldn't pay to touch our friendly skeleton's bones - but how about we have someone else pay for it?" Alton called out, this time not revealing anything from the behind the screen. So this was why Papyrus had been called away separately – so that he could give permission for this.

“$1,500!” She called out, before Hank could even try. If she was right…

“$2,000!” He bid back, and she felt her heart sink. Was she wrong?

“AAAANK,” Alton called, doing a remarkable impression of an incorrect buzzer. “You, my besuited gentleman, are only in possession of $1,500 – something new to you, I’m sure.” Hank stared, slack jawed, and Cynthia felt the rising tides of victory. “Now, unless someone else can pay at least sixteen-hundred dollars, this round is going to this lady right here – no? Going once, going twice – are you sure you don’t want to speak up again, Hank – sold, to Cynthia! Please approach your fellow contestant for his magic touch, and then confiscate all your victim’s knives, spoons, whisks, and other various implements.

Cynthia did so with great glee, taking the two large bones and handing them over to Hank, who still had a horrified look on his stunned face.

“Now, chefs, two of you are ready to proceed to cooking, and one of you is to remain here with me. As soon as this lovely lady finished, she and our resident monster will be strung together tighter than the red strings of fate!” Cynthia couldn’t help but shudder – at the thought of being tied up, and the thought of being tied to another person like that. “On my mark… go!”

She paused for a moment in thought, then nodded. “Wait one moment, please.” She approached the wagon with her longest, sharpest knife. “The Gordian knot couldn’t be solved, until…” With a few sharp slices, she began carving the ball into two. “Until the knot was split.” Noodles fell to either side, losing shape as their knot came undone.

Alton groaned theatrically. “At this rate, you’ll finish the task in a tenth of the time it took to set it up!” She flashed him a smile, but didn’t reply as she was too busy straightening out the short strands on the table before her, smearing them out in great handfuls and shaking them straight.

“Just have to raise them properly, keep them on the straight and narrow,” She quipped. “Make them realize the consequences if they don’t straighten out.

All too soon, she was back in front of her cooking station, and she realized that she had only hastened the arrival of the dreaded rope. This was a Gordian knot she couldn’t cut. Papyrus cheerful greeting helped soothe her nerves, and she managed to keep her breathing steady as an extra helper loosely tied them together.

“ARE YOU READY, HUMAN PARTNER?” She nodded, anchoring her perceptions on his solid voice to fend off flashbacks. “AS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE HAD A HEAD START AND CAN CLEARLY SUCCEED DESPITE ANY DIFFICLUTIES, I INSIST THAT WE HEAD TO YOUR STATION FIRST!”

“Thanks, Papyrus,” she offered him a small smile as they toddled over to her station. “Just let me know when you’re ready to switch back, alright? We want to be sure that both of our dishes succeed.” They were united in a single purpose – take down the most unlikeable person in the room, and send him home crying.

Looking over at the disgruntled face of said ‘foe’, she laughed at how he seemed to be trying his best to touch the lowest amount of surface area of the lightly glowing bones .

Hank began to audibly fume, screeching with unmanly terror whenever he touched too much of the magical bone. Everybody else traded eye rolls, though Papyrus seemed to be doing his best to remain dignified and proud, as was befitting of the mascot of monsters.

Someone who wasn’t trying to remain dignified was Alton, busy attaching more noodles to his costume as they worked. Soon, it wasn’t just spaghetti noodles, but penne, rotini, linguini, lasagna, and just about every other noodle that existed. Soon, his outfit was a mishmash of different carbohydrates, and Papyrus actually stopped to grin and give him a giant thumbs up. “NOTHING CAN TOP PASTA THAT SUIT, HUMAN! SAVE MY OWN COOL OUTFIT OF COURSE, NYEH-HEH-HEH!” The next time Cynthia saw Papyrus’ outfit, it had noodles draped across it in matching reflection to Alton’s outfit, and a noodle circlet around the cat ears which had been taped to his head. The skeleton made the noodle look work .

“I’m sorry, but I have dismiss… Chef Cynthia.” Cynthia nodded, determinedly biting at her lip and refusing to cry. Her new friend had passed, after all, in a sparkling flame of glory. He had to win and destroy that Hank in the next round. She couldn’t hear the judge’s explanation over the pounding refrain in her head, how she was worthless and her cooking was barely even fit for dogs, and-

“Arf!” …She was hearing things now, wasn’t she? She turned slowly, looking for the source of the sound. Happy barking came from behind her station, and then a little white dog popped out – muzzle coated with her spilled spaghetti. Apparently, her meals were fit for dogs – this one certainly seemed to be enjoying it.

“NOOOO!!!!” Papyrus cried, sinking to his knees. “WHY MUST YOU PERSIST IN TORMENTING ME, WHEREVER YOU GO?” The dog just yipped happily, grabbing one of the bones and trotting up to the judge’s table.

“Does this dog belong to you?” The judge, Antonia, asked. She was already petting the dog, which seemed to be preening in the attention, licking it’s chops.

“WHAT?!?!” Papyrus yelped. “OWN THE MEDDLING CANINE? NO ONE OWN’S THE ANNOYING DOG – THE ANNOYING DOG OWNS YOU!” In the short amount of time it took Papyrus to speak, A.D. had eaten all of Cynthia’s spaghetti, all of Papyrus’ spaghetti, and had knocked Hank’s weird dish right onto his suit.

“Good dog,” Cynthia whispered to it as it came up to her, and Hank began to scream and rant, all composure long spent. “Very good dog.”

Papyrus was very pleased and somewhat saddened with how this cooking competition was turning out. He had made a new friend! And had fun cooking with said friend! And got to dress up like a cat, which he most certainly did not enjoy at all, nope, and he was definitely not looking forward to seeing Alphys’ reaction when she saw the show!

Yet this brand-new experience had been soured by his other neighbor, the cruel human with the heart of pride and greed. Papyrus was still having fun, still enjoying the novelty of being on TV – he was on television right now! Like Mettaton! – and still so proud of being one of the first monsters that truly showed themselves to the human world. He was monsterkind’s mascot after all, and he needed to present a good face!

Even when Angry-Human attacked him and his new friend, again and again and again. That was the only way the prideful human was still on top – by putting other’s down. It saddened Papyrus, knowing that the human could do better – and knowing that the man would likely refuse to ever try being so.

Still, it had been quite amusing to see the man gaping at his brilliance, clearly impressed by his stunning flips and culinary feats! Perhaps if he was lucky, he would still manage to walk out of here with two new friends!

Papyrus wasn’t worried as Host-Human declared the challenge: Upside-down Pineapple cake. He may not have been the best cook below ground, but he had learned much in the years above – how to cook for humans, how to cook without burning the house down, and how to pay a mortgage! All very exciting things!

Humming happily, Papyrus took his groceries to his workstation and happily set up camp, chopping away, mixing and stirring with exacting precision. The clever yet cruel sabotages were to come in the middle of this final challenge, rather than before! He couldn’t help but be impressed by some of the ideas – and the many ideas of the episodes before this one, his own episode. If he won, he would be the star of the show!!!! Even more widely seen than Mettaton, star of the Underground! Such an incredible new experience… as was this entire adventure!

Fighting together with his ally to defeat the foe, finding the secret treasures hidden in the closet of glorious foods – as soon as he returned home to his brother, he was insisting on getting a matching pantry! – to talking with so many humans and to the camera… and hopefully, he would have the new experience of bringing enough money home for his family. The above-ground had been semi-welcoming, but it wasn’t always… kind. But that’s why Papyrus was here!

“Chefs!” Host-Human called out and Papyrus peeked up, staring in outrage as he saw the Annoying Dog perched on top of the judging table. “I know that sometimes you can’t always find everything you need in the pantry in the limited time you have, so I took the liberty of shopping for you! For a small price, this basket of food is yours to do with as you wish – keep it for yourself or swap out your opponent’s basket!” Papyrus couldn’t help the rush of glee that filled him – his foe had no money with which to win this prize.

The ingredients Host-Human was holding were… somewhat what was necessary for the desert, but they were also of the lowest quality possible. Now, Papyrus knew that he could easily deal with such a handicap – it was no different than struggling for human and foreign ingredients underground, but… wasn’t it almost fair, for a human to be forced to deal with this instead of a monster, for once?

Yes, Papyrus decided. This was karmic justice, of which his brother would approve most heartily! “$1,500!” he cheerfully called out, knowing that the human had no more than that. Indeed, moments later, he gracefully gifted the human with the food, and went to take back the old basket – only to draw back in surprise as the human spat in it and at him.

“NOW, HUMAN, THAT IS NO WAY TO REACT,” Papyrus scolded. “THAT’S NOT THE SPIT-RIT OF THINGS! NYEH-HEH-HEH!” he laughed as he retreated out of range, unwilling to get human slobber on his pearly bones. The dog’s slobber was bad enough!

Several minutes later, Alton spoke up again, while petting the dog. “You know, something interesting about the upside-down pineapple cake is that it’s turned upside-down. I know, who would have guessed? So, I was thinking… how about turning one of you upside down? Whenever you want to work at your station, you must be suspended in this sling and hung upside down at a lovely 45-degree angle. Who would like to-“

“Just give it to the damn skeleton already, you know he’s got the money!” the human beside him snarled out. Papyrus didn’t know that humans could turn that shade of purple – he was learning new things everyday!

“Well, alright! Papyrus, would you like to place your bid, please?” Papyrus somewhat uncertainly offered the expected 15-hundred, but he wasn’t sure about the action. Would the human be okay? He hadn’t been planning on bidding; as a monster, he was much more suited to physical difficulties, and he could still use magic to assist in his cooking. But if the other insisted…

With a deep scowl, the human was strapped into a deceptively simple rig, whereupon the same person that had tied him together slowly rotated the contraption until the human was at a very awkward looking angle. Papyrus felt a bit bad, but the human had quite literally asked for it!

No more sabotages came, but no more were necessary. The other human was hissing and spitting, no longer biting back his vitriol. Specks of spit landed in his…cake, as he attempted to bake. Papyrus felt pity for this poor human – if he could not get over himself, he would have absolutely nothing – nothing to show, nothing to hold onto, nothing to be proud of.

…and at the moment, the human had absolutely no pride whatsoever. He was red in the face, puffy in the cheeks, angry in the eyes, and empty in the money pocket. Quite frankly, it was everything he asked for and deserved – and the helper he had to ask to lift him each time was a female human! Which, for some reason, this male human despised.

He had to ask her nicely, too, or she’d dump him entirely on his head. It took him quite a few tries to figure this out! Papyrus shook his head at the lack of decency, and exchanged a high-five with the girl as he passed. He was so hip and with the times!

Papyrus grinned and the man let out a new stream of curses as one of his pans caught fire. Undyne would approve!

Papyrus watched with anticipation as Judge-human – different than judge-monster, who was Sans and had an entirely different job than this human judge – took a bite of his cake. He let out a short protest – no, not a squawk! Not at all! – as she then fed a bite to the dog that had successfully pulled off the Puppy Eyes Maneuver, ™. Papyrus could never get that look to work on anyone other than his brother – it wasn’t fair!

“Well, chefs, I have to say this is one of my easiest choices,” the judge said as she pulled back. Both she and papyrus looked over at his competition – a sad, burned and crumbling cake that was falling apart as they watched. The dog had refused to eat it when offered – Papyrus supposed that the dog did clearly have good taste, only going after the finest bones and cuisine – his, of course.

“And with that, I am proud to say that you, chef Papyrus, are the winner of cutthroat kitchen!” She said, and the dog let out a happy yowl as Papyrus screeched with joy.

“YES! YES! SANS, I DID IT! I WON! I WON!” Papyrus jumped up and pulled the judge into a hug, and then the host. “I ACTUALLY WON AT COOKING! I ACTUALLY WON IN A HUMAN SHOW! I MEAN, OF COURSE I’D WIN – I’M CLEARLY THE COOLEST MONSTER HERE – BUT… I WON!!!” Papyrus began to dance, only to be interrupted as A.D. started to growl.

“You rotten little-“ clearly the other human did not like losing, as he was approaching Papyrus with murder clear in his eyes. Papyrus slowed his celebrating and sighed – there was nothing so trying to his patience as a human trying to murder him.

*tinkle tinkle tinkle* Everybody stopped, as a rain of yellow liquid splashed down on the approaching human. He roared and launched himself forward, only to slip in the doggy residue and land face first in his ‘cake’.

Security came in, and quickly removed the stinking human, leaving Papyrus to his victory. Well! That had certainly been new!

-fin-

I hope you enjoyed reading! I’ll be posting this to AO3 after I get some sleep - I stayed up until 9 in the morning with no sleep so far - and a sequel with a few of the bits I had to cut to reach the wordcount. Hopefully it’s not too choppy, and that you enjoyed reading! This was my first intentional humorous - or should I say, humerus, story, so I hope it goes over well!

Thank you again for reading, and have a wonderful day!

Update: Link to AO3 version here!

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#Undertale #Undertalefanficcontest #@undertailfanficcontest #Papyrus #Cutthroat kitchen #Alton Brown #OCs #because you can't have a contest without competitors #humor #friendship #sabotage #Annoying Dog #my stories #my stuff

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surveysonfleek · 7 years

Text

359.

5000 Question Survey Pt. 5

401. Some say that high school is the best time of your life. Was that true for you? nah, it was definitely college for me. 402. What do you find yourself encouraging others to try? new foods, traveling to places i’ve been, beauty products etc. 403. Which is better: Mel Brooks or Woody Allen? eh, i don’t know either of them enough to choose. 404. When was the last time you were up all night? yesterday. 405. __ is life. The rest is just details. Fill in the blank. such.

406. Are people too complex and different to be categorized? yes definitely. everyone has a story. 407. Is it good to have pride in your own race or does that separate people from each other because it makes them think of everyone else as 'outsiders'? it’s great to have pride in your own race, especially if you’re spreading some knowledge about your culture to others. as long as you don’t look down on any other race, i feel like it’s totally acceptable. 408. What fictional story would you like to live through? harry potter i guess. 409. Are cats or dogs smarter? haha idk. 410. Have you ever guessed someone's password and broken into their diary? nope. 411. What teacher, if any, has effected you the most in your life? maybe my art teacher. she was a little crazy but she really helped me understand that i had potential. 412. Are you more easily bored or excited? both tbh. 413. What's the bravest or most daring thing you have ever done? traveled 14 hours by myself to dubai. nothing spesh, but it was a first for me. 414. "What's the point of robbery when nothing is worth taking?" (- Adam Ant) some people would beg to differ. 415. If your man or woman served you breakfast in bed as a treat what would you want? the typical big breakfast: eggs, sausages, bacon, beans, toast, hash browns. 416. What do you do only when you are upset? cry. 417. What's the oddest CD in your collection? an aqua remixes album. 418. What's the best diary name you ever saw? none that i can think of. 419. What would your friends be surprised to learn about you? i watch a lot of stupid shit on youtube. 420. Who owes you an apology? no one really. 421. Who deserves an apology from you? no one lol. 422. How would you like to treat your kids differently from the way your parents treated you? i’m happy with the way my parents treated me tbh. 423. Which do you like best: 60's, 70's or 80's fashion? 80s. 424. What is the worst pick up line ever used on you? ‘do you wna come up to my room?’ ‘no, i have a boyfriend.’ ‘so do i.’ fuck off lol. 425. Of the following, which word best describes you: inventive, kinetic (energetic), light-hearted, mature mature. 426. Do you own a record player? Do you use it? no. 427. How easily do you make friends? it depends. if i’m in a group of people who don’t know each other, then yeah pretty easily. it’s harder for me to make friends with people who already know each other. 428. What is the difference between having character and being a character? you’re not exactly being your true self by being a character i guess. 429. Are there any animals you flat out refuse to touch? anything that stings. 430. Do you care about your weight? yes, def. 431. Did you/will you go to the prom? i went. 432. Have you ever wanted to date twins? haha no. 433. What one thing would you change about high school if you could? nothing. maybe study harder. 434. If you came with a warning label, what would it say? brutally honest. 435. Are you artistic and creative? i’d like to think so, but i’m losing my touch. 436. What were you (probably) doing on this date last year? same shit, probably working. 437. What are you obsessed with? makeup. 438. What was the last compliment you received? i like your lashes. 439. Do you have any brothers or sisters? one sis. 440. Who would you like to be alone with right now? my boyfriend. 441. Do you push people away when you really want them to come closer? nah, i hate that reverse psychology shit. it never works. 442. Is a prenuptial agreement necessary or does it take the romance and trust out of marriage? i think it takes the romance and trust out of marriage for sure. 443. Do you lie your way out of things? not usually. 444. Are you better at talking or listening? depends on the person. probably listening. 445. What will only happen to you once in this lifetime? turning a certain age. 446. Know of any conspiracy theories you think might be credible? haha no, i hate that kinda shit, i’ll be obsessed with it for a good week. 447. What are the most beautiful words that have ever been spoken to you? nothing, just nice compliments and stuff. 448. If it were legal would you own a human slave (race unimportant)? no thanks. that’s terrible. 449. Have you ever read your own writing at a poetry reading? nope. 450. What is one simple thing that gives you the happy shivers? planning a holiday. 451. What do you do for exercise? a bit of everything. i’ll do treadmill, cross trainer or bike and then do weights. 452. Would you rather have a strict teacher with a sense of humor or a lenient teacher that doesn't teach? lol wtf? who the fuck would choose the second option? 453. If you ever have a baby what might you want to name it? haven’t decided. 454. If you won free tickets to a concert from a radio show and had to choose between Inxs, Poison, Blondie and Moby, which would you choose? omgggg. if i had to, prob moby. 455. Are you a good cook? not good, but i like cooking. 456. Do you prefer when things come with no assembly required, even if they are a bit more expensive? depends how much more expensive. 457. Start a sentence with the words: what if what if i got paid for doing these. 458. Are you more spontaneous and unpredictable or loyal and routine? loyal and routine. 459. What is the highest number you can count to in your head? meh. 460. How do you go about losing weight? eating healthy and exercising. 461. Do you have street smarts? i guess. 462. Do you have a lot of common sense? yes. 463. What is your favorite flavor of ice cream? cookie dough. 464. What's your favorite movie that involves dancing? save the last dance. 465. Would you ever want to become a guest on a talk show? If yes what would the show's theme be? yeah sure. idk what the theme would be, anything that i’m plugging. 466. Do you like the way you look naked? no. 467. Have you ever dissected an animal? yes. 468. Who do you know who is brilliant? my boyf. 469. Who do you know who is dull? haha. 470. Do you ever think about time travel? not really. 471. What is one interesting fact you know? you’re more likely to die by a coconut falling from a tree and hitting your head than being killed by a shark. 472. Do you talk to yourself? Do you talk to your pets? only in my thoughts. yeah sometimes i talk to my dog. 473. Do you believe that humankind has a future in space (will we live there some day)? possibly. probably not in my lifetime though. 474. Would you rather wear clothes that you don’t mind getting dirty or more delicate outfits? depends where i’m going. 475. How do you 'live life to the fullest'? taking risks, doing a lot of things you’ve never done before and aiming to complete your bucket list. 476. Are you sloppy or a neat freak? i’m in the middle. 477. Would you rather have a trunk full of nickels or half a trunk full of dimes? half a trunk. 478. What is the worst mistake you've ever made? idk. 479. Are you in good health? not really. 480. Are you patriotic? not really lol. 481. The greenhouse effect is bad for your health. i can see that. 482. There are about as many molecules of air in one breath as there are hairs on your head. crazy. 483. The Miss America pageant started out as a contest in which people decorated wheel chairs and one chair was judged the prettiest. cool. 484. To remove a tattoo a physician can place a small balloon under the skin, which is inflated so that the tattooed skin gradually stretches. Then they cut the stretched skin away. lol i’ve never heard this. 485. Cock fighting is a sexual sport. well, it can be. 486. It is the warmest time of the day during the hour that the sun is the highest in the sky. oookay i think i’ll leave it here unless there’s anymore questions in this survey. 487. Certain scientists specialize in studying cow farts. 488. The brilliant colors (reds, oranges, yellows) across the sky that we get from sunsets are caused mainly by pollution. 489. In Grimm's original fairy tale, Rapunzel is pregnant. 490. Dracula was the first movie about a vampire. 491. The inventors of Corn Flakes, the Kellogg brothers, ran a school for delinquent youth. 492. "Kemo Sabe" means "soggy shrub" in Navajo. 493. Sir Thomas Crapper invented the toilet. 494. The Earl of Sandwich invented the Sandwich. 495. Some Chinese alchemists were trying to invent an immortality medicine and accidentally invented gunpowder instead. 496. The human body is made of about 99% water. 497. Bubble gum contains rubber. 498 This survey to the zero power = 0. 499. Most lipstick contains fish scales. 500. There are 86401 seconds in day.

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