#I LOVE HIM!!! i have this whole sketch page of him that i gotta finish.. but this is the part that got finished first :-) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

crown-anon · 4 years ago

Note

aah i thought of a req!!!!! could i maybe request one shots or hcs (separate) w dream, sapnap, n wilbur with a s/o (preferred he/him!!) who draws a whole lot,, n one day they catch him drawing him?? tysm :]

@ghcstbnr asked

gn i just realized i made a typo i meant cc catching reader drawing them- but ty again :)

of course! it's kind of long, sorry about that

I took a little creative liberty with the notion of "catching you drawing." also Sapnap's looks kind of long but it's also dialogue heavy. if you want me to redo it, I will. hope you like it 💗

& a note to everyone else, I don't write for Wilbur yet! I only write for the dream team at this time. sorry about that! this will probably change in the future, though, so look out 👀

CW: swearing

format: one-shot

people: dreamwastaken, Sapnap

pronouns: dreamwastaken's piece is ambiguous, Sapnap's piece uses he/him

edited 27 April 2021

—

dreamwastaken

since he doesn't use his camera, you find yourself with your boyfriend in the studio more often than not. when he's gaming casually, you play together, or one of you will cheer the other one on. when he's streaming, sometimes you interact with the viewers, or read donations for him; sometimes you just sit next to him, soaking up his energy and warmth. when he's working long days and long nights to edit videos, you're content with just relaxing together in the same space. at times you have to drag him out to the kitchen to eat, or help him to bed if he passes out, but…he's really cute when he's focused. (and you're starting to think he does it on purpose just so you can dote on him.)

today is a little different. he's recording for a manhunt that's meant to drop in a couple days. you're quiet, trying to avoid disrupting them. you're perched up on the loveseat, staring fondly at him across the room. he's so animated, the way his eyes shine when he talks to his friends, how he tears up when he laughs…

Patches mews at you from the arm of the couch, as if to say, disapprovingly, I cannot believe how sickeningly sweet your inner monologue is.

and you try to understand where she's coming from, you really do, but the sun's starting to set, and the gentle rays slotting through the blinds are shifting from white to gold.

he looks so divine, you decide. it's unfair. how could I not love him? he's seriously pretty. and before you can stop yourself, you're sketching him out on your tablet. you glance up at him fast to get the details right, and look away just as quickly. he never meets your eyes. soon your whole page is covered in little Clays, capturing the way he feels, the way he acts, the way you feel about him. Patches jumps off the chair, with all the moving. and before you know it, you've drawn up a whole page of concept art of your unfairly beautiful boyfriend. Patches was right about me, you muse to yourself.

fuck. Patches. the same Patches who's been meowing at you for the better part of an hour, now sitting patiently at the door? there's no way Clay didn't pick up on all that noise, you fret. but he's still playing, looking intense as ever. relief washes over you, replacing the guilt.

come here, girl, you think to yourself, knowing Patches wouldn't have even understood you if you spoke. sorry to keep you waiting. and you rise, slipping quietly out the door with his cat in your train.

—

you're coming back to the studio. Patches, fed and sated, is napping in another room. opening the door, you have to stop yourself, you freeze. your boyfriend's kneeling on the ground, sitting on his heels, right next to the door—you'd have hit him if it opened any further.

"baby, what are you…" the words die on your tongue.

my book. my sketchbook. my sketchbook full of drawings of him. shit, he's gonna think I'm such a simp! the embarrassment, the shame, the fear, it's overwhelming you.

you hear your voice break. "…what happened to recording…?"

"finished half an hour ago," he says simply.

and that was that. for the first time in ages, the silence hanging between you was thick and heavy with tension. you wait. and wait. and wait. you wait for the criticism, the hate, the argument that never comes.

suddenly, he seems content with what he's seen, when he looks up at you adoringly, and takes one of your hands, giving it a soft squeeze. "is that…me?"

you've lost your voice, all you can do is nod.

"you…you think I'm beautiful?" he glows.

ah, I suppose I did write that, somewhere in there. you look away. all the things I've said…

he brings your hand up to his lips and leaves kisses on your knuckles.

you sound small. "do I not tell you that enough?" you pause. "that you're beautiful? that I love you?"

and just like that, his nervousness dissolves into euphoria. you both start laughing at the same time.

"oh my god—" he wheezes. "—you're so sappy."

"only for you," you blurt out, and start laughing harder. but he quiets, he hesitates.

"only for me," he repeats.

you sink down onto the floor next to him. he's staring so fondly at you, you can't help but smile back.

"only for you," you affirm.

he rests his hands on your knees, pulling himself closer to you. he's so close to you, you can feel his blush. you let your eyes close, softly.

but the kiss never comes. instead, you're met with a "then what about all those drawings of Patches?"

laying on the floor, tangled up in each other, in hysterics, you distantly think I hope he remembered to leave the call from recording earlier.

—

over dinner, you meet his gaze, and he gives you that look. that stupid, handsome look; the one with the smile and the danger behind his eyes. he makes a point of pausing mid-bite, but it takes you a minute to notice that he's stopped eating.

"what's up, honey?" you ask, sounding a little more concerned than you should have been.

he shrugs dramatically. "oh, nothing…just figured you'd appreciate a muse." there it was. the teasing. you knew it would happen eventually. but the tone, it's kind, it's tempting; gentle, unlike a serious jab.

so all you do is roll your eyes, but you can't help the way your mouth quirks into a smile. "you're so dumb," you murmur with affection, and shake your head at nothing in particular.

Patches curls her tail around your ankle as she passes you by.

—

on the couch hours later for movie night, you're the last one up. Patches is curled up in Clay's lap, purring. Clay, in turn, sleeps soundly in your lap. (you think if he could purr, he would, but he settles for humming softly when you play with his hair.) you might think it's funny looking back on it later, but it feels so tender and vulnerable now. you like calm evenings like this one. Studio Ghibli plays quietly on the flatscreen; you don't know which one, you're not really paying attention anymore.

you're busy tracing the contours of Clay's skin, feeling more than seeing his shape in the dark room. mapping him out in your mind, learning his figure like you're seeing him for the first time again. you think you understand him a little bit better, every day you spend together. and with confidence, you make your first stroke, illuminated by the moon.

—

Sapnap

you only barely stop yourself from drawing a big "X" across your paper. exhale, and start erasing furiously. don't rip the paper—well, we didn't need that sheet anyway. ball it up and throw it at the dark, cobwebbed corner of the room. along with the rest of your mistakes.

you're trying. you're really trying. but those lips. his fucking lips. fuck.

your boyfriend smiles at the camera as he gets a donation with a sweet message on it. it should be so easy. he's right there. right here.

you check the time. it's been an hour. you've been trying, and miserably failing, to get his lips right for an entire hour. today, at least. you scoff at yourself, your misery, and pinch the bridge of your nose. it isn't fair.

his camera's on, and he's live, so you know you can't be in there with him. nobody knows you're together, and you don't want know what kind of backlash to expect if people found out. so you've been avoiding his streams…the whole room where he streams, really.

you've kept yourself busy by drawing. and you've cycled through many subjects in your life, and eventually, been able to draw whatever you put your mind to with enough time and effort. the problem is, your sights have been set on Sapnap, even for months before you got together. okay, maybe that isn't the problem. the actual problem is that you fucking suck at drawing him.

you get going, start it out, do an okay job, but midway through screw it all up somehow. to make things worse, your reference is his 2D image. he doesn't…know that you draw him. you're terrified to say. so you can't use the real life Sapnap as a reference, like you would prefer.

ugh, and this one's ruined too. you rip it up and throw it at your growing pile of paper balls, but being tiny confetti-sized pieces of paper, they don't make it very far. great, something else to clean up later, you huff at your own thoughts. it isn't fair.

—

"[name]?" he calls for you. you're one step ahead, already opening the door. you can't remember when you got here and decided to brood outside his room.

"hey, do you think you can—" he tears his eyes from his camera, his waiting audience, to look up at you expectantly. when he sees you he stops immediately, looking concerned, standing to meet you.

"what is it?" your voice is flat.

out of view of the camera, he mouths, are you okay? you only shrug and avert your eyes.

he falters, contemplates, sits back down at his desk and starts to talk to his viewers. "hey guys, I'm sorry for the short notice, but I gotta cut this stream short. my…" he glances at you for approval, only to see you motioning with your hands as if to say, no, don't.

(you yourself don't really know what for. no, don't end the stream for me? no, don't out us like this?)

he looks back. "…my friend…something came up with my friend. I have to take care of it. it's really important." you can tell he has trouble finding the right words. you can tell it throws him off, he's acting out of character for his internet personality. do you blame him? isn't this your fault? "sorry again. bye guys!"

the second he made the last click, he gets up and pulls you into a hug. it's unexpected, it knocks the wind out of you. you're certain he feels the tension.

"babe…what's wrong?" it's muffled by your neck and the sweater you're wearing. you just hold him, saying nothing.

he pulls away and holds you by the shoulders. "look at me. what's wrong?"

you feel all the more embarrassed. it's so silly to be upset about. "I…I…well, it's a lot."

he shakes his head, to say I'm not going anywhere, but his expression softens, his grip loosens. "do you want to talk about it?"

you sigh. "it started as 'I can't draw for shit', then it became 'why am I afraid of asking you for help?', and finally, worst of all, 'why the fuck can't we be seen together?' it isn't fair. it's never been fair. I'm sorry."

he thinks about it for a second. "okay, what makes you feel like we can't be seen together?"

"are you joking?" you snap. "we're two fucking boyfriends. in this society." he didn't look hurt by the outburst, but the guilt crept in anyway. "…I'm sorry."

he shakes his head, "do you really think I'd let that happen? I wouldn't ever let anyone hurt you, darling. remember that."

"I know, I know…" you don't know what to say. "it's easy to forget, I guess."

"what are you afraid to ask me for help about?"

"I…" shit, you guess you have to tell him. close your eyes, breathe, "I've been drawing you. trying to draw you. but I can't, it never turns out right."

you peek, and he's red in the face, stuttering. "me? you draw me? of all the hot people out there?"

you furrow your eyebrows at him. "don't give me that shit. you know you're cute."

he shakes his head incredulously. "are we talking about the same person here?"

"dude, your smile is literally the most radiant fucking force of nature I have ever seen."

"you're hot too! why are you coming after me?"

"I'm not 'coming after you', you're being defensive about your looks, when you shouldn't be! you're gorgeous, baby."

you're both giggling like girls at a sleepover, the anger and frustration long forgotten. now it's a war of who can be more grossly in-love with the other.

"what part of me," he manages between laughs. "are you having trouble drawing?"

"oh god," you groan, remembering yourself and your dilemma. "your lips."

"my fucking lips? you would think that—"

"no," you warn. "shut up. don't say it. don't you dare say it."

he leans in close, his hands have moved up to cup your face. you shiver.

"don't worry," he grins. "I won't."

the kiss is long and sweet, nothing like the ones you've shared in the past. he takes his time, you savor each other. you feel time stop ticking, you feel your heart stop beating, you feel the way he tilts his head. you grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him in. and when you part, you're breathing heavy, in tandem.

"thanks," you manage. "but I needed to see your lips, not kiss you into next saturday."

"nah," he laughs. "I think you needed that too."

you choose your words thoughtfully. "do you need me, too?"

he hums, and—

ding!

dreamwastaken donated $69!

you could die. you could really, seriously die.

the response is instant. you don't even see Sapnap move from you to the PC, flushed down to his neck, apologizing, apologizing, and apologizing again. "change of plans, guys, we're doing an art stream!"

the chat is filled with "huh?"s and "what?"s.

"huh? what?" you didn't have the time to process what just happened.

karljacobs: I thought we were doing a make-out-with-our-secret-boyfriends stream :(

he smiled warmly at you. "yeah. my lovely boyfriend is going to draw me! he's been wanting to for a really long time, and his art is really good. let's go get your stuff."

you're in so much shock that he makes it past you and out of the room, while you stand there waiting. after a pause much longer than you intended, you hurry after him.

—

down the hall, in your room, he's got your sketchbook tucked under his arm, closed. you're sure you left it open when you came out.

you only barely get the words out. "um, did you…go through it? please don't laugh."

your heart sinks when he laughs heartily, but he grabs your hand, resting it on your book, about to hand it off. but he holds you there for a second. "of course not. I respect your privacy." he ponders for a moment. "I respect you."

you can feel the sigh of relief when you let it out. "I…love you."

your holding your book now, as he moves to collect the boxes containing your pens and pencils and colors. he gets them all together, but before he picks them up to head back, he turns around to face you. "is this too much?"

you absently reach for a hand, tracing over the lines on his palms. and you think about it. am I okay? is this too much?

"I don't think so. not with you. I'm okay."

he moves to open the door and grab the rest of your things. "well then, let's not keep them waiting!"

—

edited 27 April 2021

#dreamwastaken x reader #dream x reader #clay x reader #sapnap x reader

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shadow--writer · 4 years ago

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Sorry to hear that your teacher failed you on a test :(. Could I possibly get some fluff headcannons for Julian or Muriel with an s/o who is an artist?

Awwwww thank you so much Anon. That means a lot. I got it fixed up now thankfully, but it was a huge worry for me since that would tank everything I worked hard on. Lucky for me is that I just gotta get through this semester and I’m done with this class!

And don’t worry, you’re getting both! My fav boys y’all treat me too well lol XDD

Julian and Muriel x MC artist

~~~~

Julian

If you like painting be warned: when he’s around it’s gonna get messy

He’ll trip over paint cans and get covered in whatever colour you were using.

Mortified he’ll get you more paints.

But if you swirl the paint and make little shapes and patterns he will melt

In general though, he loves the fact that you’re an artist

I have the headcanon he’s can draw, and probably got better than uhh what he used to be able to do lol. (pry it out of my cold dead hands I DARE you) and so the two of you will spend quiet days sketching together

Yes he will make sure you have your sketchbook whenever the two of you travel

When he drags you out for a picnic it always turns into you two drawing one another

He loves drawing you and he loves every piece you give him

In the clinic there’s a whole board dedicated to your work that he keeps there

But he keeps his favourite pieces in a small box under his side of the bed

From time to time he’ll pull the box out and look through the paintings, drawing etc that he’s collected over time

He loves them so so much, prepare for your house to have your stuff hung everywhere

Loving proud partner you have in Julian. He’ll sing your praises from the rooftops

When he’s drunk he’ll blabber on and on about how wonderful and talented you are

But yes he loves you and everything you do

No he won’t shut up about it

He loves everything you do, but those soft sketches you do of him and his mannerisms are his favourite because you...you captured him so well

And this is how you see him. He can feel the love floating from the pages and your brushstrokes

Muriel

Unlike our doctor he’s more quiet about your skills to others

But when you give him your pieces, he’ll sweep you up in a hug, kissing you fiercely

He’s a man of few words but lot’s of action (*coughs*)

He loves your landscapes and forest drawings. And since moving into the hut with him you draw more of those

Muriel will try to get you to draw yourself too, just so he can see you in every medium

His favourite pieces of yours though, are of him. He turns red at them, but they mean so much

Because you see him as something...so beautiful. The lighting, the expressions

The sketches you do of him, he loves them all. It’s weird for him to be drawn, to remember he’s seen like this, but he weirdly enough loves every part of it

Though I will say if you have paint he likes to paint on your arms. Little swirls, leaves, sometimes doodles of Inanna’s face (much to the wolf’s dismay)

He wants to make you the work of art he sees you as

Like Julian he hangs your stuff around the hut. You have a painting of the Tarske Forest above your bed

He just....loves you so much. He loves you, your art, and your talent for seeing everything good in the world

For seeing the colour in something gray

Yes every time you finish something new/give him something new he will scoop you into a kiss

Art is something he never knew he’d like, but seeing everything you’ve done...makes him see the world differently somehow

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana headcanons #julian devorak #muriel #muriel of the kokhuri #julian headcanons #muriel headcanons #fluff #this is v soft #headcanons are closed again now #I have a lot to go through haha #thank you for your sweet words Anon!#arcana apprentice #artist headcanons

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escapewriter · 4 years ago

Text

My Muse

pairing : kevin moon x reader

genre : fluff, humor

type : oneshot

wc : 1k

main masterlist || tbz written masterlist

read this if you would like to request something

Lately, Kevin has been having a hard time in school. It was getting close to finals and he couldn’t seem to understand the lastest lesson his professor taught. He would attend a few tutoring sessions, but it only confused him more.

Sitting in a coffee shop, he looked at his text book in front of him, trying to get an idea of what he had to learn, but he only scanned over the meaningless words.

You took your seat in front of him with two drinks in your hand. You placed his order in front of him as he glared at the book, trying to find any sort of answer.

“Kevin?” His eyes looked up at you, his face looking tired as he hummed. “What are you thinking about?” He sighed and rubbed his eyes with one of his hands before grabbing his drink and taking a large sip.

“Just this lesson because I have no idea what I’m doing. I thought it was easy, but it’s actually quite difficult.” You pouted, feeling bad for your friend because you couldn’t seem to find a way to help him except to ask him questions.

“Well, have you got a main idea?” He shook his head, failing to comprehend anything from the textbook in front of him. “Well, why not take a break for a bit? Relax yourself and get back to it later.”

He laughed slightly, thinking about how cute you were. You thought him leaving the information for a while and coming back to it later as if he’s a whole new person would work. He went with it anyway.

He looked at your big doe eyes, “What? Does that not make sense?” You leaned back, attempting to sink in your chair to escape the embarrassment. Kevin’s smile grew as he sat up straighter.

“No no, it makes sense. But it’s a bit more complicated than that. Me coming back to it probably won’t change anything.” You nodded your head, avoiding eye contact and played with your hands to keep yourself occupied. You took a quick glance at him, wanting to sink more into the seat of the booth, “Why are you still smiling?”

Kevin knew why he was smiling, but he knows he can’t tell you yet, “Can I not smile?” Your eyes moved back and looked into his again, both of your gazes lingering longer than they used to when you two hung out.

Then he decided that maybe a distraction could be useful for him. He deserves this break, even if it’s for a short time with you.

He broke eye contact and rummaged in his bag, looking for his notebook. You raised your eyebrows, watching as he quickly began to scribble. “You taking a break Kevin?” He smiled, not looking at you as he nodded.

You were happy he decided to listen to you because it’s better to take care of yourself first before focusing on school. And Kevin using his time to draw is something that made you smile. You loved every art piece he created because it always told a story; his story.

You watched him press his pencil down hard on the paper then softly use short strokes. He bit his lip, focusing hard on the picture he was creating, too lost in his own world to start a conversation with you.

“What are you drawing?” Kevin hummed, moving the pencil faster as he was finishing up the piece. You tried to look and see what it was but failed due to his arm covering the small notebook.

Kevin closed the book and put his pencil down. He smiled in content, happy that he got to draw. He began to put the notebook away, “Wait! You’re not gonna show me?”

Panic rose on his features as he began to stutter, “I-I, w-well uhm, you see, uh no.” He quickly shoved the book in his bag and zipped it up. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“That’s sus, why can’t I see?”

He avoided eye contact, trying to think of a way to direct the conversation to something else. “Hey look at that!” He pointed at the textbook in front of him, “Looks like I gotta study.” You rolled your eyes and leaned back, deciding to leave it alone and not bother him.

He took short glaces to your direction, guilt eating him alive because he always showed you what he worked on. He just never showed you this specific notebook.

Sighing, he took it out and placed it on the table, sliding over to you. Your face lit up, excitement bubbling in your chest. You opened to the first page, seeing a date scribbled at the top. You focused on the picture, seeing a drawing of a person, but not able to decipher who it was. You moved on to the next page, seeing the same person but drawn in a different setting. It continued on the next couple of pages where you couldn’t tell who this person was, but you smiled, “Kevin, do you perhaps, like someone?”

Kevin bit his lip and gulped, “You could say they’re my muse.” You looked at him and smirked, fighting with the bitter smile.

“So you like them?” He nodded his head and you let go, the bitter smile rising on your lips. Turning the page again, you read the date that was today, a soft gasp leaving your mouth. It was you.

The details he added that weren’t there in the previous sketches were more prominent. Your hair, your eyes, your smile; he captured it all in this one drawing.

You looked up at him, seeing him look at the book in your hands as he bit his nails out of a nervous habit. “Kevin?” He looked at you, waiting to hear what you have to say, “I’m your muse?” You smiled sheepishly, the butterflies in your stomach erupting like a volcano.

Seeing you smile, he put his hand down and forced himself to look into your eyes, “Yeah, you are.” You only nodded, your smile growing wider as you continued to admire the artwork Kevin created.

Sitting in the comfortable silence, Kevin watched as you ran your fingers over the page, your eyes sparkling in the sunlight that shone through the window. You both didn’t need to say anything more. You already knew how each of you felt just from your reaction to Kevin’s simple, yet meaningful piece of art.

#the boyz #the boyz oneshots #the boyz reactions #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #tbz #kevin #kevin moon #escapewriter.request #escapewriter oneshot

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crazy4dragons · 4 years ago

Text

Fifteen (Part 1)

Hiccup struggles to come up with the perfect gift for Astrid’s fifteenth birthday. Hiccup-centric for now, with a bit of subtle Hiccstrid coming in Part 2. Rating: G. Prompt sent by @drakaina-amore64 (thank you!).

Hiccup sighed as he glanced at the collection of half-finished projects around him. Astrid’s fifteenth birthday was in a week, and he still had nothing good enough to give her. Or so it seemed that he didn’t.

A Viking’s fifteenth birthday was a big deal. Fifteen was the year children were finally allowed to take the lead on patrols, participate in battle, and most importantly, learn to fight dragons. For those reasons, fifteenth birthdays weren’t just a family affair—the whole island celebrated them.

And Astrid’s fifteenth birthday was an especially big deal, at least to Hiccup. She’d been his best friend growing up. With his mother gone, he often ended up staying with either the Jorgensons or the Hoffersons when Stoick was away and Gobber was busy running the island. On the weekends Hiccup spent with the Hoffersons, he and Astrid would play all day, then innocently cuddle up together for bed to help calm her fear of the dark, and his fear that a dragon would crash through the walls and eat them both alive.

They hadn’t been close like that in years; not since Astrid started basic battle training at eight years old and slowly latched onto a new group of friends. The last time they’d hung out was at Hiccup’s tenth birthday party, and he suspected that was only because Astrid’s parents made her go, just to be polite.

Gods, he missed the days when they were friends, always laughing and making up stories about defeating dragons together. Maybe if they were still close, he wouldn’t be having such a hard time thinking of a gift for her.

“Axe? She has one already,” he mumbled. “Mace? Has it. Sword? Has that, too.” He gathered the partially-finished weapons and put them in a box.

“What are ye working on, lad?”

Hiccup turned to see Gobber entering the forge. “Oh, nothing. Just uh…brainstorming some gifts for Astrid’s birthday.”

“Oh, I see. What ideas do ye have?” Gobber hobbled over to his desk and grabbed a piece of metal.

“I thought about an axe, or a mace, or a sword, some kind of weapon,” Hiccup began. “But I can’t seem to come up with anything she doesn’t already own.”

“Ye know, Hiccup, a Viking can niver have too many weapons.”

Sighing, the boy ran his fingers through his shaggy hair. “Yeah, yeah, but I just thought I could do something different. Maybe even something special.”

“Aye, I see.” Gobber raised an eyebrow. “Ye like her.”

A light blush covered Hiccup’s cheeks. “Well, uh…I…” he stammered. He’d always liked Astrid, but now that she was slowly transforming into a fiercely beautiful young woman, he couldn’t help but like her, like her.

“Ye don’t need to hide it, lad. I ain’t gonna tell anyone, ‘cept maybe yer father,” laughed Gobber. “Ye know, in a few years, yer gonna have to start settling down, anyway. And Astrid is just the kind o’ strong lass who could give ye a nice, strong heir.”

Hiccup rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, an heir,” he mumbled. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be the heir, let alone father the next one. He also wasn’t sure he could even find anyone desperate enough to birth his heir. Yes, he was the next in line for Chief, but there were other more attractive, more successful men from neighboring islands who would offer the same social status—plus the added advantage of a tribal alliance.

“It’s gotta happen someday, Hiccup,” Gobber said cheerfully. “Yer father’s not goin’ to be around forever, and—”

Before he could finish, Hiccup was gone. He needed to focus on Astrid’s gift, not becoming Chief, and if he was being quite honest, he was rather tired of everyone talking about it. And by everyone, he meant Stoick and Gobber.

As he trudged home, Hiccup made a mental list in his head of everything he thought Astrid might need, only to cross off all of it by the time he walked through the door. Not only did she already have every weapon he could imagine, she also owned more than enough armor and other battle accessories. Clothes were always practical, and he could easily sew some leggings or knit a pair of cozy socks, but giving Astrid clothing seemed a little too intimate, even if it was just leggings and socks.

Not feeling up to waiting for Stoick to arrive, Hiccup cooked and ate dinner alone, then took his evening bath and headed to his room. Finding a piece of charcoal, he grabbed his sketchbook and opened it to a blank page. He always drew before bed, but this time, he was on a mission to draw until struck by inspiration for Astrid’s gift.

He began by sketching a portrait of her, paying special attention to her big blue eyes and toned muscles. As she grew up, her eyes were gradually losing their glow from childhood, instead becoming fierce and icy. However, Hiccup still thought they were gorgeous. And her muscles he both admired and envied. Gods, she would never feel attracted to him the same way he felt attracted to her, not with his delicate body.

A talking fishbone, that’s what Stoick called him.

Sighing, he put down his charcoal and flipped through his finished drawings, hoping that ideas for his next sketch of the night would come to him.

“I’m home, son!”

Stoick’s booming voice shook Hiccup out of his thoughts. “I’m busy, Dad!” he called, turning another page of his sketchbook. It landed on an image of a Deadly Nadder, Astrid’s favorite dragon. When they were little, she’d always talked about them. She even had a plush one that she took to bed each night, thinking it would protect her from fiercer, scarier dragons, like Night Furies and Monstrous Nightmares.

It was then that it hit him. He would make Astrid her own book, filled with drawings of all the things she’d loved growing up, from the stream they used to swim in together, to the axe her parents gave her for Snoggletog a few years ago, to the little plush Nadder he was almost certain she still kept in her room.

“Are ye so busy ye can’t clean up after yerself?” Stoick bellowed from downstairs.

Hiccup groaned as he remembered that, in his preoccupation with Astrid’s gift, he’d left his dishes on the kitchen table. He knew that if he left his room, he’d end up getting caught in an unwanted conversation with his father, and that definitely wasn’t what he wanted, not with all the drawing he needed to do in order to finish his project on time.

“Hiccup? Do ye hear me?” Stoick prompted.

“Coming, Dad,” the boy said, half-mumbling.

“I don’t know why yer always hiding out in yer room,” the chief remarked as Hiccup descended the stairs. “Can’t a son spend time with his father?”

Hiccup sighed. “Well, Dad, if you must know, I’m uh…I’m working on a birthday gift for Astrid.” He blushed while saying her name.

“Trying to impress her, eh?” Stoick raised an eyebrow.

“No! Of course not. I just…we used to be friends, and I want to do something nice for her.”

“Mmm-hmm. I see how ye look at ‘er.”

Hiccup covered his face in embarrassment. “Dad!”

“Remember, Hiccup, nothing happens on this island without me hearing about it.”

“Sure,” the boy sighed, shuffling to the table and grabbing his dishes. After washing them, he quietly slipped back upstairs before Stoick, who was preoccupied with warming his dinner, noticed he was gone.

“Alright,” he said aloud to himself. “Let’s get these drawings started.”

#hiccup #fanfic #my writing #httyd

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noladyme · 4 years ago

Text

The Crown Princess of Charming - part 10

Welcome to Charming - its name says it all. Cat needed a fresh start; and though she hadn’t planned on that being in the arms of the crown prince of this little town’s bikerclub - that was what happened. Charming CA would either be the death of her - or a whole new life.

Rated M

Tags (let me know if you want on the list) @wonderlandfandomkingdom @edonaspanca

We spent the next few days trying to figure out how to be a family. I was well aware – probably even more so than Jax – that this wasn’t just going to be as easy, as me moving my stuff into the house. Jackson was constantly trying to make me take up more space on the shelves. He even cleared out more space in the closet; throwing out old shirts – and the stained boilersuit. “You’re right. You don’t want to know”, he’d chuckled.

Monday afternoon, he found me on the living room floor; sorting papers and old art projects. “You know; I could get you a desk”, he said. “I don’t know if I’ll need one again”, I muttered. He sat down next to me; and took a drawing pad from my hands; going through the sketches on the pages of it. “You will. If it’s not for the school, it’ll be something else”. I shook my head. “I don’t want anything else…”, I said quietly.

He squeezed my healing knee gently. “What about dance?”, he tried. I sputtered a laugh. “You want me back on stage, in front of other men – and women; for that matter?”. He narrowed his eyes at me. “You never told me about any women…”, he muttered. I shrugged. “Like I said… I have a past”, I smirked. He looked down. “Is… that a problem?”, I said. He seemed to have to think about it. “I mean… no?”, he said. I frowned. “It’s a problem”, I whispered. He put an arm around my shoulder. “Just another thing I’m learning about you”, he smiled softly. ”Besides, I’ve produced enough porn to know that two women together is not a bad thing”. His smile became a smirk. I raised a brow at him. “No threesomes”, I said pointedly. He laughed. “Wouldn’t want to share you either way”, he grinned. I leant against his shoulder. “I don’t care who you’ve been with. You’re here now”.

I chewed my lip. “Am I, though?”, I said. “Who am I in this? Am I just your old lady?... I need more”. “I know”, he said. “But seriously, though. Why not take up dancing again?”. I sighed. “Old lady, step mom, and gogo-dancer?”. “Burlesque”, he grinned. I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’d be in my underwear in front of whoever paid an entry-fee”, I said. “You’d be good with that?”. Jax shrugged. “Opie deals with it”, he said. “Yeah. I’ve seen the way he winces every time Lyla talks about work”, I said. Jax frowned. “You wouldn’t be taking dildos up your ass”. I grimaced. “Sorry…”, he chuckled. “Look, I just want you to be happy”.

I kissed his cheek. “I know… I’m sorry. I’m not exactly being the bubbly girlfriend you’d expect me to be – having just moved in, and all…”. Jackson sighed. “Come here…”, he said; and pulled me into his arms. “These last few weeks have been crazy. You’ve been beat; drugged; arrested; and almost…”. Anger ghosted his face, and he couldn’t finish the sentence. “I don’t… I can’t let that ruin everything”, I said quietly. “You’re not ruining anything, Cat”, he said. “You’re dealing with it. Just let me help you”. “You are”, I said. “You’re paying Lowen for me… which I hate”. He frowned. “Why?”. “Because I don’t like not making my own money, and paying my own dues!”, I said. “I’ve always been able to handle myself”. He smiled. “We’re a team, darlin’”, he said. “There ain’t no I in team”. I put two fingers into my mouth, and made a gagging noise.

Jackson laughed, and took my hand. “Look, we’re a family. Ok?”, he said earnestly. “I take care of you; you take care of me”. “And how do I take care of you?”, I said – immediately regretting the question; when I saw his playful grin. “You took care of me twice, this morning…”, he leered. I looked at him incredulously. “You realize that makes me sound like your own personal call-girl, right?”. “I don’t mind a bit of role-play”, he smiled.

I tried to smile; but Jax saw through it. “I’m sorry”, he muttered. I shook my head. “I want me back”, I said. “My work, my sense of security in who I am… Joshua took it all away”. He nodded. “What can I do?”, he said. I thought about it for a moment. “I do want to dance again… are you sure you’d be ok with that?” It was his turn to ponder my question. “I love you; and I want you happy”, he said. “Dancing makes you happy”. “It does”, I nodded. “No nipple tassels?”, he said warily. “I’ll save those for you”, I smirked. “I know how you like to wear them…”. He looked at me warningly. “Hey! That stays between us”, he said. I giggled. “I promise”, I said.

He kissed me gently. “I’ll look up safe clubs for you”. “What do you mean; safe?”, I asked. He frowned. “It’s got to be somewhere unconnected to club enemies”, he said. “And somewhere out of range of Juice”.

His phone rang. “Speak of the devil”, he muttered; and picked up the call. “Juice! What’s up?”. I got up from the floor; and went to feed Abel – who’d been chewing on a teddy bear in his playpen. Jax followed me into the kitchen; his phone to his ear. “Shit!... Yeah. We’re on our way”. He hung up. “Pack up. We gotta get to the clubhouse”. I held Abel to my chest. “What’s wrong?”, I said. “Lockdown”, he grumbled; and walked to the nursery; beginning to pack up a bag for Abel.

I followed him with bated breath. “Jax… what’s happening?”. He looked at me – jaw clenched. “Someone burnt down one of our warehouses”, he said. “Phil got shot”. I felt cold all over. “Is he…”. Jax shook his head. “He’s in the hospital. Gut wound”, he muttered. “Babe; pack your things. We leave in five”. I nodded; and put Abel in the crib, to go collect my things. Jax followed me into the bedroom. “How much… what do I need?”, I said. “Pack for a couple of days”.

I nodded; and grabbed some clothes and toiletries. I was shaking. “Cat…”. Jax pulled me in to a tight hug. “It’ll be ok. You’ll be safe… It’s just a precaution”. “For what?”, I whimpered. He stepped away from me; and opened the bottom drawer – pulling out a .38; checking the chambers to see it was full. “We’re at peace with brown and black. So we don’t know who did it”. “Nords?”, I said. He shook his head. “They don’t mess with our business”, he said. “Too much heat for their numbers”.

I let out a nervous breath. Jax handed me the gun. “This one’s easier. No safety – just pull the hammer; aim, and shoot”. I nodded; and put the gun in my purse.

We drove to TM – I had Abel in the car with me; and Jax followed close on his bike. Once inside the lot; the large gate closed behind us.

The clubhouse was filled with women and children. Abel was fussing from not having been feed when we were at the house; and Gemma took him from my shaking arms. “I’ll be ok, sweetheart”, she said warmly. “This happens”. I nodded; and went to sit down with Lyla. She and Opie had pulled the kids out of school; and the three of them were doing homework at a table.

Clay stepped into the middle of the room. “Listen up! Lockdown is in order. No one leaves without an escort – and all communications with outsiders is on hold”. I felt sick. Jax met my eyes, and stepped over to stand by me – back straight and VP-face on. He squeezed my shoulder for second; letting me know he knew I was afraid. “You’ll all be home as soon as we figure out what happened”, Clay said. “For now; you stay her. And stay safe”. He turned to Jax. “We gotta go”. Jax nodded; and turned to me; bending down for a quick kiss. “I love you. Stay here. We’ve got the dorm for Abel”. “Ok”, I said quietly. “Come back to me…”. “I will”, he whispered.

The guys left the clubhouse; and I heard their bikes starting up, and leaving the lot.

---

I spent the next few hours scared out of my mind. No calls came in to let us know what was happening; and I was constantly looking at the door – wishing for Jax to step through it. Gemma was on her phone; and after she hung up, she joined me at a table; where I was trying to feed Abel his nighttime bottle. “That was Rat”, she said. “Phil is out of the woods; but he’ll need to stay in the hospital for a few days”. “And how long will we have to be here?”, I asked. “I don’t know, baby”, she said. “They’re just trying to keep us safe”. I frowned. “Then why am I still terrified?”, I said quietly. She smiled. “Because you’ve never done this before”. She squeezed my hand. “But you’re doing it just perfectly”. She looked at Abel. “Do you want me to put him down for the night?”. I shook my head. “No, I’ll do it. I’m gonna try to get some sleep as well”. I stood up; holding the baby against my shoulder to burp him. “Why do we get the dorm? There are other kids here…”. She shrugged. “It’s just the way it is”, she said. “No one has a problem with it”. “I do”, I muttered. She stroked my cheek. “There goes that heart of yours… Look, if it makes you uncomfortable; bring Lyla and her kids with you”. I nodded.

I got Lyla and the kids to follow me into the dorm – not really wanting to be alone. A little while later, Lyla was next to me on the bed; stroking Kenny’s hair. The boy had wet cheeks; and was whimpering in his sleep.

“Thanks for letting us stay in here with you”, she whispered. “Anything else would have been ridiculous”, I smiled. We we’re bundled up on the bed with Abel and Kenny – Ellie and Piper having been tucked in on the couch. Kenny had cried himself to sleep; worried about his dad. There’d been a travel cot for the baby set up in the room; but I’d insisted one of the women sleeping in the bar area, used it for her little girl. Besides; I preferred having Abel in my arms as it was.

“You think they’re ok?”, Lyla asked. “Yeah…”, I whispered – trying to convince myself as well as her. “They have each other’s backs”. Lyla nodded.

I pulled the covers off Abel; as the room was warm; and I didn’t want him to overheat. “You’re good with him… a natural”, Lyla said. I smiled softly. “He’s an easy kid… And Jax takes the main load when he’s home”. “Really?”, Lyla said incredulously. “Yeah”, I said. “He’s a regular mother hen around him”. “Wow…”, Lyla said; surprised.

I chewed my lip. “Did… do you know Abels mom? Wendy?”. Lyla shook her head. “No; that was before my time”, she said. “But Opie told me a bit about her… She has issues”. “I know”, I nodded. “But I still want him to know about her”. “Is Jax pushing for you to get guardianship?”, Lyla asked. “I think he’ll bring up at some point… Or Gemma will”. She frowned at me. “You don’t want that?”. I stroked Abel’s little arm. “I have no problem with the guardianship. I love him. So much”, I muttered. “But I’m not his mother. I don’t need him to call me mom”. “Then what?”, she said; letting the sleeping baby hold on to her pinky. “I want to be there for him… whatever happens. He is mine; you know?”. I sighed. “And I want what’s best for him”. “You think she’s part of that equation?”, she said. I thought about it. “She should be – on one way or another”. I kissed the baby’s head. “I want him to have a clear understanding of where he comes from”.

Lyla smiled softly at me. “You are too good for words, Cat”. I looked at the sleeping child in her arms. “You’re not half bad yourself… taking on two of Opie’s, on top of your own”. She stroked Kenny’s cheek. “I guess I feel like you do. They are mine – but they weren’t mine first”, she said. “Though Donna’s a hard act to follow”.

I took her hand; and squeezed it. “Stepmom’s for the win, huh?”. She grinned. “Go team Stepmom”.

Soon after; Lyla dozed off. I spent the night in and out of sleep. Every sound made me jolt. I was worried, and wanting nothing more than to see Jackson safe and sound, as soon as possible. Abel woke up at 6 am; needing a change and a bottle. I slipped out of the dorm quietly; trying not to stir my sleeping friend and her kids.

Rat was in the main room; putting out breakfast items for the sleeping people in the clubhouse. He looked even scrawnier than usual – tired and sad. “Are you ok?”, I whispered. He looked worried for a second. “Yeah; I’m just fine, ma’am… Cat”. He tried to smile. “There’s an empty mattress in the storage room”, I said. “Go get some sleep. You look exhausted”. He shook his head. “I need to finish this”, he muttered. I put Abel in his car seat on a table; and took a loaf of bread from Rat’s hands. “That’s an order”, I smiled. Rat smiled; and scuttered off.

I’d had Jax buy a baby carrier; so we’d be able to carry Abel with us, hands free. I strapped the baby to my body, and got to work, preparing breakfast. While I worked; Ellie came out to join me. “Couldn’t sleep?”, I said. “No”, the girl muttered. I stroked her cheek. “Your dad will come back as soon as he can”, I smiled. She nodded. “I miss you at school… Miss Bloom is back. She made us read The Hobbit”. “That’s a good book”, I said. Ellie shrugged. “Yeah, but I already read it”.

I narrowed my eyes; and told Ellie to wait; while I slipped into the dorm – going through my bag; and returning with The Graveyard Book. “Here. It’s the same author that wrote Coraline”, I said; handing her the book. “You’ll like it”. Her eyes lit up. “Can I go read it now?”. I nodded smilingly; and Ellie ran off to find a quiet corner.

Gemma had appeared from somewhere; and watched our exchange. “Do you always bring a library with you wherever you go?”, she grinned. I shrugged. “Only when I’m locked up in a bikerclub; and don’t know when I’ll be able to get out again”, I said. “Nice to have some diversion”. Gemma chuckled. “Where’s Rat?”, she asked. “I told him to get some rest. He was sleeping standing up”.

She walked over to me; and kissed my cheek. “Where the hell did you come from, Cat? And why didn’t you get here sooner?”, she smiled. I blushed, and went back to my task of carving up rolls.

People began stirring – attacking the buffet I’d set up for breakfast. I stuck to coffee myself – feeling too anxious to eat. Abel began fussing from all the sounds of women and children around him; and I decided to go outside to get some air.

I walked back and forth on the lot; bouncing my body to settle the whimpering baby against my chest. An armed leather clad Son with a batch from Tacoma kept his eyes on me. Suddenly the gates opened; and fleet of bikes entered the lot. The sound of the engines instantly made Abel calm down; and I chuckled at the irony.

Chibs got off his bike – looking tired and worn. I walked over to him. “Guests?”, I muttered; looking at the unknown bikers parking near the shop. “Nomads”, the scot answered. “We need backup”. I shuddered. “What happened?”. Chibs put his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, my love”, he smiled. “We’re all whole”. I nodded. “There’s still food inside”, I muttered. Chibs put his hand on my back; and led me towards the door of the clubhouse. “You two should be inside”. “What’s happening?”, I asked.

Chibs opened the door for me, and led me to a quiet corner; gesturing for Gemma to follow. “Retaliation”, he said quietly. “Nords called in some white power friends”. My breath hitched. “O-ollie?”, I whispered. Chibs shook his head. “No. This has nothing to do with you… this is something else”. Gemma met the scots eyes. “The other thing”, she muttered. “What?”, I asked. Chibs smiled. “Don’t worry about it, luv’”.

His phone rang; and he picked it up. “Yes?... I just got in with the Nomads. I’m going to have Quinn head security until you or Clay comes back… Yes. She’s here”. Chibs handed me the phone. I took it, and headed down the hall to find some quiet.

“Hello?”. “Cat…”. Jax sounded tired. “Baby…”, I almost whimpered. “Are you ok?”. “I’m fine… I’m at one of the warehouses; keeping it safe”, he said. “Are you safe?”. “I’m freaking out…”, I admitted. “I know, babe”, he breathed. “I’ll be there as soon as I can”. “When?”. He paused. “We’re expecting some company…”. “Jax…?”, I croaked. “What’s happening? Are you in danger?”. “It might get bloody”, he said honestly. “Listen; you and Abel are safe as long as you stay inside the compound”. “I can’t do this alone…”, I croaked. “I can’t lose you…”. “I’m going to do whatever it takes to get back to you safe and sound. I promise”. He let out a deep breath. “I love you, Cat”. “I love you”, I said. He paused. “There’s something else…”. “What?”. “We don’t have enough people to cover the studio. The Cara Cara girls will have to hold up with you all, at the clubhouse, until this blows over”. Ima. “Great”, I grumbled. “Just… make sure you hold on to that .38 for the real enemies, ok?”, he said. I didn’t answer. “Cat?”. “I promise not to burst anymore implants…”. “I love you. Thank you for… everything. How’s my boy?”. I looked down at the baby strapped to my chest. “Loved…”, I said. I could almost hear Jackson’s smile through the phone. “Come back whole”, I squeaked.

---

A few hours later; a van full of scantily clad women arrived at TM. Lyla greeted her friends; and said a curtly hello to Ima – who did her best to avoid me; and Gemma. She was wearing a gauze around her chest.

The kids were getting rowdy – reacting to the close quarters and the lack of entertainment. With a sleeping Abel to my chest; I thought fast, and grabbed every sheet and blanket I could find – helping them build a fort under the table in the meeting room. This gave the adults some well needed peace to mingle, and talk about what was going on.

Chibs was out cold in the dorm; and I let him have one of the blankets – lovingly tucking in the snoring scot. Happy and Juice arrived at noon – having traded shifts with two of the Nomads. They passed out on a couch each; some Cara Cara girls fussing over them. Happy had his head in one girls lap; while another let Juice use her voluptuous chest as a pillow. I grinned at the scene; and went back to my fort project.

Gemma came and took Abel from me; and I crawled under the reaper-table with a flashlight from the shop – making shadow animals with the kids. “That’s not a dragon!”, Piper called out; after I’d tried my best at making one with my hands. “Sure it is!”, I said. “I met one once, you know?”. “Really?”, a little girl said. “Yeah!”, I enthused. “She was ugly; and had bad breath… her name was June”. The kids let out an audible gasp in unison.

The time flew more quickly for me; as I was occupied with the kids. After a while; I went outside for some fresh air, and a cigarette in peace. A few of the nomads were on the roofs; overlooking the compound and the area surrounding it. Their large guns should have made me feel uncomfortable – but I was beginning to feel more at ease with being surrounded by armed men. This is for our protection, I thought. I just wished Jax was there.

Juice and Chibs headed out to trade places with Clay, Bobby and Tig. Rat followed them in a dark van. As the gates closed; I suddenly saw two of the Cara Cara girls stumbling outside – head to head in a catfight. They didn’t seem to be able to agree on which one of them would be taking care of Tig when he got back. One of the girls punched the other in the face; breaking her nose. Lyla and Gemma had followed them outside; and was yelling at them to stop. Ellie and Piper where at their heels; looking at the exchange. The kid’s faces were terrified.

I ran over to the squabbling girls; and pulled away the one who had thrown the punch. She scratched for me; but missed – and I slapped her hard across the face. “Hey! You leave that shit for when this is over”, I snarled. “We have kids here!”. The angry porn-star walked away with a putrid glare at me; and I helped the bleeding woman to her feet. “Lyla; get the first aid kit!”, I called to my friend; who ran back inside; ushering the kids with her. We managed to get the bleeding to stop on the poor girls nose; and I promised to tell Tig, how she’d defended his honor.

Some of the women prepared dinner with Gemma. People were getting restless; so the food came at just the right time, to distract us all. Ima nabbed a plate of potato salad; sticking up her nose at Gemma’s recipe. She searched for a place to sit down; and noticed my folding chair leaning against the wall. I took it before she could touch it. “Rules still apply”, I said coldly. She smirked at me. “Did Jax ever tell you how he likes his dick sucked?”, she said. “I had plenty of practice with him. Could give you some pointers…”. “Or I could point you in the direction of the street”, I said. “See how long that new tit survives without club protection. “What’s your problem?”, she hissed. “Who do you think you are?” Happy came from out of nowhere; lifting his t-shirt to expose the gun resting in the waistband of his jeans. “That’s who she is, bitch. Sit down, and shut up”. Ima jumped a little; and slipped away quietly. I sent Happy a slight smile. “Thanks”. “No worries, princess”, he said hoarsely.

I noticed Gemma smiling at the exchange; and stepped over to join her at her table. Abel was making sputtering sounds at the apple sauce she was feeding him. “You’re doing good, sweetheart”, Gemma said. “Yeah well… you don’t come in to someone’s house, and behave like that”, I said. Gemma’s smile widened; and she went back to feeding the baby.

After dinner; the kids dragged me back into the fort. We started a game of who’s dad has the stinkiest farts. Kenny insisted Opie’s were so bad they’d once made Ellie cry. “Did not!”, Ellie raged. Opie ducked his head under one of the sheets. “They’re not that bad”, he grinned.

Kenny, Ellie and Piper jumped at their father; attacking him with hugs. Opie pulled his kids out of the fort; and I stuck my head out to send him a smile. In the doorway of the meeting room stood Jax; trademark smirk spread across his face. I jumped at him; throwing myself into his embrace.

“I’m ok”, he whispered into my ear. He pulled back; and kissed my forehead. “What the hell did you do to our table?”. I shrugged, and grinned at him. “Well the clubhouse is no longer Samcro property”, I said. “Welcome to The Fortress of Awesomeness and Cheese-dip. Home of the Dragons… or Unicorns. We couldn’t agree on a name”. “Shit”, Jax chuckled. “Who’s the president?”. “We’re a Marxist community”, I said. “But I’m the spokesperson/treasurer”. “You got ‘em to hand over their allowances?”, he laughed. I shook my head with mock menace. “Still working on it”.

Jax hugged me tightly; and kissed my lips. “You’re amazing”, he said. “Can I come in?”. “You’ll have to ask the board”, I said. He frowned. “Who’s the board?”. “Rina…?”, I called out. The little girl who’d asked about the dragon, crawled out from under the table; taking with her a beaten-up skateboard. “Ask the board”, I said; looking seriously at Jax. He narrowed his eyes at the girl; who held up the skateboard at him. “Can I come in to the fort?”. Rina bit her lip; and nodded in glee.

Jax ducked under the sheets; and crawled in to join the party. “Oh, shit. You got Wi-Fi in here?".

---

A few hours later – after having fed my old man enough potato salad for an army – I was about to get Abel ready for bed. “I’ll take him”; Jax smiled; and took the baby into his arms. “Dorm?”. “I’ve been sharing it with Lyla and the kids”, I said. Jackson grinned. “There goes the privacy”. I shrugged. “Not used to sleeping alone anymore”, I muttered. He kissed me gently; and walked down the hall; followed by Gemma.

I realized he’d forgotten the diaper bag; and grabbed it – walking down the hall to the dorm. Voices made me stop outside the cracked door.

“She did good, baby”, Gemma said quietly. “I know”, Jax replied. “You better get her stamped, or someone will try to snatch her up”. “She don’t want the ink, ma’”. “Why?”, Gemma asked. “She’s more than just my old lady”, Jax said. There was a pause before Gemma replied. “I get it”.

I opened the door, and walked into the room. “Hey, you forgot the diaper bag”, I smiled; and handed it to Jax. He smiled; and began changing Abel. Gemma squeezed my shoulder; and left us to it. Jax leaned over his son, and grimaced. “Shit, son. What did momma Cat feed you?”. Momma Cat.

I sat down in the chair we’d used for our riding session some days before. Jax looked up at me, and smirked in remembrance. “I’m… not sure you should call me that”, I said quietly. Jax frowned. “What do you mean?”, he said; and finished closing the clean diaper on his son. He picked up the baby; and sat down on the bed across from me. “I’m not his mom”, I said. “You’re the closest thing he has…”, Jax retorted. “What about Wendy?”, I whispered.

Jax visibly tensed up. “I told you…”, he said. “Yeah, but…”. I sighed. “I love him like my own, Jackson. I do… but at some point, he’s going to have to know where he came from”. Jax shook his head. “I don’t want her screwing up his life”, he said pointedly.

I went over and sat next to him – stroking Abel’s cheek softly. “We won’t let that happen… but if she turns up; and wants back in to his life – clean and sober – I don’t think you should turn her away”. Jax clenched his jaw; but seemed to ponder my words in earnest. “Whatever she is… if it hadn’t been for her; you wouldn’t have him”.

Jax blew out a long breath. “I’ll think about it…”, he said. I went to stand up; but he grabbed my arm; pulling me back down. “There’s more to being a mom, than giving birth. What you just said… that’s sacrifice”. I smiled. “I love him…”. “I know”, Jax said. “Like a mother”. I nodded.

“Momma Cat?”, I whispered. Jax smirked. “Yeah…”, he said quietly. “Better start working on that California Dreaming”. I grimaced. “That’s Mama Cass”. He grinned. “Right”.

Abel had fallen asleep against his father’s chest; and my heart was warm and full of love. Lyla stuck her head in. “Hey, Laura said there’s enough room for the both Abel and her little girl in the crib”. Jax nodded. “You, Ope and the kids take the dorm. We’ll sleep in to The Fortress of Awesomeness and Cheese-dip”. I laughed; and followed Jackson out the door.

We tucked Abel in next to the little girl; and crawled under the reaper-table; collapsing on top of some pillows and blankets. Jax managed to shrug off his cut; before closing his eyes – and falling asleep, almost instantly. I pulled his head against my chest; and put my legs over his – embracing him protectively.

---

“What the hell happened to the table?”, Clays voice boomed; waking me and Jax from our slumber.

Jackson kissed my forehead; and crawled out of my embrace; leaving our haven to face his president. “We took a vote”, he said. “It’s a fort, now”. “I can see that”, Clay muttered.

I crawled out to join them. Clay looked at me, and shook his head; before laughing. “You did good, teach’”, he leered. I blushed. “We do need our table back, though”, Clay said. “Church in 30”. Jax frowned. “We only got half a table, man”, he said. “Piney and Juice are on their way in. I sent Rat out to join Chibs. I have his proxy”, Clay said. “I set up the meeting for this afternoon... We can end this today. But we need a vote”. Jackson shook his head. “We talked about this…”, he began. “You talked. I listened. Now we put it to the table”, Clay said pointedly. Jax sighed. “Ok…”.

I began stripping the table of sheets and blankets – my heart breaking slightly for the kids. Jax seemed deep in thought. After a moment, he took my hand. “Let someone else do that. I need to talk to you…”.

I followed him out of the clubhouse; and into Gemma’s office. Jax closed the door behind us. “I need to tell you something”, he said; gesturing for me to sit down. I suddenly felt anxious. “What’s wrong?”, I said. He sat down next to me. His brow was furrowed. “I told you about the guns we mule”, he said. “But that’s not all we haul”. I waited with bated breath. “We transport dope”.

I instantly felt sick. “Oh… God”, I heaved. Jax put a hand on my back; trying to calm me. I shrugged him off; and stood up. “Heroin, Jax?”. He clenched his jaw. “I know…”, he said. “It’s not good”. “Not good?”, I hissed. “Your son was born with his guts hanging out because of drugs! And I was drugged; and almost…”. “I know!”, he barked. “You think I want to do this?”. I shook my head, and laughed sarcastically. “Of course. Club vote”, I sneered. “Yay, democracy, right?”.

Jax got up; and tried to take my hand. “Don’t”, I snarled. “That is a big goddamn line to cross, Jax!”. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you…”, he tried. “Has it been in the house?”, I asked. “Has it been around Abel?”. “No!”. His voice was hard. “Never”. “And you never…”. “Tested the wares?”, he sneered. “How stupid do you think I am, Cat?”. I scoffed. “You are transporting hard drugs across state lines”, I said. “Ask that question again…”. He sat back down, and ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah… you’ve got a point”.

I sighed. “So what happens now?”. Jackson looked down. His voice was distant. “You get out…”. I went cold. “What?”, I croaked. “You run, and you don’t look back”. Tears welled up in my eyes. “You want me gone, because I don’t…”. Jax shook his head. “No… I don’t want you gone. But you should want to go…”, he said quietly. “Please… don’t let my shit rub off on you. Have a life that’s not… this”.

A tear ran down my cheek. “This is my life”, I whispered. “This… is it. There’s nothing else”. Jax leant back – not touching me. “I’ll get you some cash”, he said. “You can start up somewhere else. Just go. No one will stop you”.

I felt every inch of my body fill up with rage. Walking over to Jackson; I smacked him hard across the face. “Don’t!”, I growled. “You don’t get to push me away, when things get hard!”.

Jax’s face dropped. I’d left a scratch on his cheek; and a small trickle of blood ran from his cheekbone.

Jax got up. His body was tense; and his face was unreadable. “You want this? Me?”, he hissed. “I’m not a good man. Why do you want this to be your life?”. I pushed him hard in the chest. “Because you’re mine, Jackson!”, I yelled. “Guns; drugs; psycho porn-star exes… with all that, you’re still mine. A part of what makes me, me!”.

“All of it?”, he said. “This isn’t going to end. I’m never going to be your every day Joe; who come’s home at the end of the night with a bouquet of flowers and a steady paycheck”. I looked at him pointedly. “Do you love me?”, I said. “What?”, he breathed. “Do you love me!”, I almost screamed. He parted his lips, and relaxed his stance. “Of course. Yes”, he breathed. “You and that kid in there, are the only two things I’ve done right in my life”.

I sighed. “I’m not a virginal princess in a high tower, that needs to be protected and kept clean of your shit”, I said. “I’m in this with you”. Jax swallowed hard. “You are so good”, he said. “I don’t want to break you”. I let out a short breath. “I’m not broken, Jax”, I said. “Kohn didn’t break me; and you aren’t going to break me. I’m not going anywhere… Not because I can’t take care of myself; or need you to pay for my lawyer, or my future… Because this is it, for me!”.

He nodded. “I love you, Cat”, he said quietly. I stepped closer to him; and put my hands on his chest – meeting his eyes. “If you ever say something like that again – ever tell me to leave…”. “I won’t. I’m so sorry”. He pulled me against him; putting his arms around me.

“I don’t want you hauling drugs”, I said. “I can’t get out of it”, he muttered. “Not yet… I’m trying, baby; I really am… I hate myself every time I pack up and go on one of those runs”. “Then end it… safely”, I said. He hesitantly took my hand. “I will… but this shit with The Nords”. He sighed. “It’s about to get worse before it gets better”. “What do you mean?”.

Jackson furrowed his brows. “The Nords brought in friends from the alt-right… they were the ones who burnt down our warehouse”. “What does that have to do with the drugs?” “We had a meeting with their lieutenant… they’re well connected, Cat”. He looked worried. “They threatened to kill our drug-transports, by attacking every haul we sent – and going after our other businesses… Clay made an agreement with them – we transport double the dope; handing half of it to their guys up north”. “They’re strong-arming you?”, I asked. He shook his head. “They’ll pay; and this war can end before it starts”. I had to lean against the desk for support. “Double?”, I croaked. “It’s the same jail-time of we get caught”, Jax said.

The mention of jail; made my ears ring, and bile rise in my throat. “How do you get out?”, I muttered. He shook his head. “I don’t know… not yet”, he said. “But I swear; I will end this shit, Cat – I will!... But for now; to keep everyone safe, we need to do this”.

I let out a deep breath. “I don’t know which I hate more - the drugs, or the fact that you’re dealing with white power...”, I whispered; before meeting his eyes. “Go… do what you need to do to get us out of this mess. I trust you”. Jax pulled me into his arms. “I will never let any of this touch you”, he said. “Are you going to hit me again?”. I frowned. “Maybe…”, I muttered. “No more lies… we’ve been through this before. I’m all in”. He nodded; and kissed the corner of my mouth. “Ok… whatever happens, we get through it together”.

#jax teller x oc #jax teller #jax teller fic #jackson teller #jackson teller fic #soa #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy

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yusuke-of-valla · 4 years ago

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Inspiration Investigation!: The Phantom Menace

[A/N]: Yet another fluffy fic based on a convo with @askmarietheapprentice.

Also on Ao3

The staff at the inn rush past Yukiko with barely a glance her direction. They’d been getting ready for weeks for an artist who’d taken the world by storm a couple of years ago. For the life of her, Yukiko can’t remember his name, though it probably won’t matter since she won’t have to talk to him. At the tender age of 12, her job is more to observe and start to learn to imitate her mother for when she inevitably takes over the inn.

A car pulls up and everyone moves into position, Yukiko standing next to her mother and watching an old man get out of the car.

As soon as he steps through the doors, the staff take the old man's coat and for a brief moment, Yukiko can see tiny arms as one of them helps someone behind the old man.

"Madarame-san, welcome!" Yukiko's mother says.

"Thank you for having me." Madarame replies.

Yukiko tries to look around him and get a better look at the kid behind him, but they just scuttle further away.

Madarame laughs. "Don't mind Yusuke, he's a little shy." The old man gives a little push and a small boy with wide, gray eyes stumbles in front of him.

"H-hello. My name is Yusuke Kitagawa," the boy says, unsure of where to look.

Yukiko's mother smiles at him. "Hello, it's nice to meet you. Do you travel with Madarame often?"

Yusuke shakes his head.

"Well then, I hope you enjoy your stay. Yukiko, can you entertain Yusuke-kun for a little while while the adults talk?"

Yukiko stares at the small boy, probably around 5 or 6, who seems to have settled on staring at his feet.

"Alright." Yukiko says, then offers him her hand. Yusuke looks between Madarame and Yukiko before Madarame gives him a nod and Yusuke takes her hand.

She takes him around the corner and out of sight of the adults.

"So Yusuke-kun is it? What do you want to do?"

"I dunno." Yusuke mumbles, before quickly standing up straighter to look her in the eye. "Um, I mean, I'm happy with whatever you want to do, Amagi-san."

"Just Yukiko is fine," she says. “I can tell you about the history of the inn, or the town. Anything you want to know?” Yukiko asks.

"Actually... before I came here, one of the older pupils told me that old places like this are haunted,” Yusuke says. He leans forward and looks around, like he’s afraid someone will hear him. “Do you know anything about ghosts?"

Yukiko can’t help it, and starts laughing.

Yusuke’s shoulders immediately slump and he looks down at the floor. “I’m sorry it’s childish, I know.”

“No! No no no, it’s not that.” Yukiko catches her breath and wipes a tear from her eye. “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting anyone else to be interested in ghosts.”

“So, you do know about ghosts?” Yusuke asks.

Yukiko grins. “I’m practically an expert.“I know all the scary stories about any place in Inaba, and I can tell you about any sort of ghost-"

"Mean ones!" Yusuke shouts, before catching himself and speaking more softly. “I mean, I want to know about how to get rid of a mean ghost that’s scaring away my senpai.”

“Have you seen this mean ghost?”

Yusuke pouts. “No, I think it only comes out after my bedtime. But I can hear weird noises at night sometimes. And when I get up in the morning, paintings will be knocked over or destroyed or missing. And pupils keep leaving all of a sudden for no reason! Sensei keeps telling me not to worry about it and the other pupils won't say anything but I know something's going on."

"Hmm... strange noises and things being destroyed." Yukiko hums. "Sounds like what you need is something to ward it off."

"How do I do that?"

“I think I saw something about it in a book at the store,” Yukiko says, “but mother says I’m too young for that kind of stuff.”

“So what do we do?”

“We have to go find that book!”

Yusuke frowns. “But your mother said not to.”

“Well she doesn’t have to know that’s what we’re doing. We can bring some paper and you can copy whatever you need from the book!”

“Should I tell Sensei what we’re doing?”

“No.”

“But-”

“If you tell him, he’ll tell my mom. Do not tell him.”

“What about when we get back?”

“Do not tell him. Ever. It’s our secret.”

Yusuke tilts his head to the side, before giving a resolute nod. “Alright.”

“Good,” Yukiko says. “To the bookstore!”

They get their coats from the coatroom, and Yukiko pokes her head into the room where her mother and Madarame are talking.

“I’m taking Yusuke-kun to the shrine,” she says.

“Is that alright?” Madarame asks.

“Oh they’ll be fine. Yukiko is very responsible,” Yukiko’s mother assures him.

“Very well. Yusuke, be good.”

“Yes, Sensei,” Yusuke says. “I’ll make a picture of it for you!”

Madarame nods. “I look forward to it.”

The adults go back to talking, and Yukiko and Yusuke set off towards the shopping district. It’s a chilly January afternoon, fat snowflakes falling all around them. Yusuke has a large sketchbook and some pencils he brought tucked under his arm and holds onto Yukiko’s hand tightly.

They arrive in the shopping district no worse for wear, which gives them a little time to browse. Yusuke immediately wanders off to look at the fabrics on display at Tatsumi Textiles, and Yukiko feels a wet nose brush up against her leg.

“Muku!” Yukiko coos, leaning down to pet Chie’s dog, “you’ve gotten big, haven’t you?” Chie runs up to them.

“Muku, please don’t run off like that,” she says between breaths, “and hey Yukiko!”

“Hi Chie, out for a run?”

“Yeah, but I lost my grip on Muku’s leash and he ran off on me, like a bad dog .” Chie looks down and glares at Muku, and he looks up at her and tilts his head. “Aw, don’t gimme that face,” Chie sighs. She kneels down to give Muku a good scratch, “I can’t stay mad at you.”

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you Muku?” Yukiko asks, kneeling down to pet him too.

“Yukiko?” Yusuke says, coming over from the display.

“Ah, Yusuke! This is my friend Chie, and her dog, Muku. Chie, this is Yusuke, he’s staying at the inn with his teacher and I’m taking him shopping.”

“Hello.” Yusuke says.

“Hiya!”

“...May I pet your dog?”

“Of course! Muku loves the attention.”

Yusuke carefully reaches out to pet Muku, his eye lighting up when he feels his fur. “He’s so soft!”

“So, where are you from, Yusuke-kun?” Chie asks.

“Tokyo.”

“Whoa! So you ride in the big underground trains and stuff?”

“Sometimes. Usually only if I’m going out with one of the other pupils. Sensei doesn’t like the trains so he has a driver take him places in the car.”

“Whoa, you live in the city and have a personal driver? That’s fancy.”

Yusuke stops petting Muku and frowns. “It’s not that fancy.”

“Compared to here it is,” Chie says, before checking her watch. “Gah, I gotta go. See you at school Yukiko!”

“See you!”

Chie and Muku run off, leaving Yusuke and Yukiko to walk to the Yomenaido Bookstore. The book Yukiko saw is exactly where she remembers. She pulls the thick black tome off it’s shelf and lays it on the floor so Yusuke can see. Flipping through the pages, she finds the two page spread with a circular design on it.

“Ok, so according to this, you’re supposed to make a whole bunch of these and put them up to summon the ghost. Then you can leave out an offering to appease it so it won’t lash out in the real world.”

Yusuke pulls out his sketchbook and dutifully starts copying the pattern in the book. His face is scrunched up in concentration, constantly looking back and forth to make sure the pattern is right. Eventually, he gives a satisfied nod and closes the book. “Thank you, Yukiko.”

Yukiko smiles. “No problem, I’m happy to help.” She closes up the book and puts it back on the shelf before standing up. “Now, we just have to stop by the shrine, and then it’s back to the inn.”

“Right!”

At the shrine, Yusuke once again opens his sketchbook and focuses on making his sketch of the place look nice. Yukiko watches respectfully, but when Yusuke nods to himself that he’s finished, she tosses a snowball at his chest.

Yusuke stumbles backwards, surprised, and Yukiko bursts out laughing.

“No fair, I wasn’t ready!” Yusuke says.

“It’s not a sneak attack if you’re-” a snowball hits Yukiko in the face. Yukiko starts laughing harder and Yusuke scurries off behind a snow mound.

Their glorious battle for wintery dominance goes on for hours (though really not more than 15 minutes) and they walk back to the inn laughing with snow in their hair.

Before leaving the next day, Yusuke gives Yukiko a hug goodbye before climbing into the car for the drive back home.

“So, did you have fun Yusuke?” Madarame asks.

Yusuke nods. “Yes! Can we come back? I want to play with Yukiko again.”

Madarame laughs and ruffles Yusuke’s hair. “Maybe one day.”

#alto writes #persona 5 #persona 4 #pq2 #yukiko amagi #yusuke kitagawa #wordcount: 1500-2000 #fluff #ok after this it's back to your regularly scheduled angst

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zombieratt · 4 years ago

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Alright so forewarning this is LONG as FUCK specifically because i came up with this idea in early high school and was just today POSESSEd By the Spirit Of Musical Theatre to put it to paper— er Tumblr.

So without further ado:

DEAR EVAN HANSEN BUT EVAN ISNT A TERRIBLE PERSON AND CONNOR LIVES.

the beginning is the same, canon diverges just after waving through a window.

*this ended up getting written is script format? i also just sorta ignore alana’s whole exsistance bc in this version of the play she’s unnecessary*

In the moments before he talks to Connor evan decides to omit Zoe from his letter, having resolved himself to move on from her. (instead of being a hella creep.)

Connor: “dear Evan Hansen,” what are you writing letters to yourself? *he laughs*

Evan: its, uh, its for my therapist. its just a stupid little assignment that she says is supposed to help me process my feelings or— uh or something

Connor: hm. here. * hands Evan the letter*

Connor: your cast. no one’s signed it.

Evan: uh no. no one has.

Connor: gotta sharpie?

Evan: huh?

Connor: gotta sharpie? im gonna sign it.

Evan: *handing the sharpie to Connor* w- whuh uh why?

Connor: *shrugs* feels right.

Evan: i wish i could do that

Connor: what?

Evan: UH, IMEAN—

Connor: no wait- dude.

Evan: i mean uh, i meant that i wish i could just be, y’know impulsive like that.

Connor: Why Cant you be?

Evan: i uh, my heads pretty messed up, and stuff like that just, makes it worse i guess.

Connor: well theres some thing we have in common— were both fucked up in the head.

*the bell rings*

Evan: oh shoot! i missed the bus—

Connor: i’ll give you a ride.

Evan: are you sure i mean i can walk its not far-

Connor: all the more reason, i probably have to pass it on my way home anyway, cmon.

——

they meet Zoe in the parking lot

Zoe: I have Late practice today

Connor: whatever, gotta passenger.

Zoe: who the fuck would be crazy enough to trust your ability to drive?

Evan *being Brave*: Me Apparently?

Zoe: Uh, Evan Right?

Evan: yeah, uh, yeah.

Zoe *holding her hand out to be shaken*: i’m Zoe, we’ve met though right?

Evan wipes his hand on his shirt and shakes it: yeah, uh, nice to formally meet you, Zoe.

Zoe: i’m off, don’t kill him stoner.

Connor: i wont Princess

Evan breathing heavy: that was,, an eventful ten minutes.

Connor: oh fuck— you cool? or—

Evan: Panic Attack.

Connor: Right, uh

Connor: can you get in the car?

Evan: yeah

*car nonsense*

Connor: Can i start driving or do you want me to wait

Evan: Distractions are good,, Can Uh, Can you Talk about Stuff?

Connor: What stuff!??

Evan: any Stuff!

Connor: Is Zoe okay??

Evan: Sure?!

Connor: Uhh we don’t get along as well as we used to?

we were really close as kids, shes a huge asshole now but *fully venting now*

i kind of miss it you know? having someone to talk to and care about— and i still care about her— but its scary and i always fuck it up! not to mention the fact that our parents hate me— make her see me as some alien and not just a fucked up kid who wants to talk and — (more ranting that i dont feel like writing, but its a whole monologue bro)

Evan: Connor

Connor snaps his mouf shut: yeah

Evan: thanks

Connor: oh that, uh actually helped?

Evan: yeah focusing on your voice and whats real and stuff— it makes a difference.

Neither of them noticed that Connor was just sort of Driving. they end up at the park where in canon Connor commits Sewer-slide.

Evan: i didn’t know there was a park here.

Connor: huh, oh, yeah i guess i just sorta auto piloted, i come here to think.

Evan: About stuff?

Connor: Yeah, Stuff.

*the convo lulls*

Connor: do you have a laptop?

Evan: no, i uh, i left it at home? why?

Connor: give me a second

Connor walks to the car and grabs his back pack out of the back seat

Evan watches Quizzically from the swing-set

Connor pulls out a Sketch Pad and Pen, flipping to a clean page.

Connor: So tell me how to write one of those letters of yours.

Evan: uh, well you start like any other letter- just addressing it to yourself

Connor writing: Dear Connor Murphy,

Evan: and uh, my first one was supposed to be about my ideal summer vacation? since i started in middle school- but you don’t have to—

Connor: thats perfect.

Connor starts to sing for forever,

eventually Evan joins in there is a minor gay moment where they’re holding hands face to face.

the song ends with Connor hugging Evan.

Evan: its- its pretty late.

Connor obviously crying: just— just a couple more minutes.

Evan lets go and grabs Connors sketch book of the ground, closing it and handing it off to him: then how about this, labor day weekend- we actually go.

Connor: what are you talking about?

Evan: being spontaneous?

Connor: o-okay.

and it cuts to black.

theres a small montage here, as the set changes to Connor and Evans bedrooms

sincerely, me is a lament in this context, Connor and Evan are duetting from their respective rooms, writing to themselves.

(the lyrics are completely different and i will not be writing them here because thats too much fucking effort.

but they’re duetting from their bedrooms about making a connection to another person, feeling seen, for the first time. what it felt like and how they really want to keep it up but are afraid of making a mistake and ruining it.

its got some themes of waving thru a window, and a little bit of for forever, but its still largely the same notes just in a different key.)

after wards, Zoe knocks on Connors door to tell him dinner is ready to find him peacefully asleep.

requiem is the same, Zoe sees Connor as Dead to Her instead of actually dead, so some of the wording changes, so and so about how a monster doesn’t deserve peaceful rest etcetera.

school day happens, Connor doesn’t die, but the hot goss is that everyone saw Connor and Evan go home together after school, jared makes a shitty homophobic joke to Evan and Evan kind of tells him off about it. they argue and it culminates in Evan saying “well god forbid I’m friends with someone who isn’t YOU!” or smth like tht and it hits jared right the fuck at home man.

Connor says from the side lines: damn that was pretty hard core dude.

Evan: you have, no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that.

Connor honest to god l a u g h s, theres a number of people who hear it and lose their shit, Zoe being one of them: i have a pretty good idea, wanna get some lunch?

Evan: yeah, sure.

this general routine continues until labor day weekend, when they plan to go on their little escape. theres a short scene of Connor leaving the house with his keys and a backpack.

Connors mom confronts Zoe about his oddly upbeat attitude and hows he’s seemed differently lately Zoe Shrugs but decides to investigate his room.

she finds the letters. the first one is for forever, the theme plays as she reads it frantically, and is signed “Sincerely me (connor murphy)” so she knows its him, i f i could tell her begins but its a real duet between Connor and Zoe and at the end she resolves to try harder to connect to him.

Evan sings disappear to Connor after breaking into a formerly public park, in this context its him confessing that he broke his arm attempting su!c!de. Connor records it, for personal reference.

jared hacks Connors phone and steals the video, posting it to yt, in an effort to ruin their friendship.

Evan and Connor get in a little fight about it, and in the meantime Evan is called to the school to give an assembly because hes a phenomenal speaker and Disappear got like 1000000 views over night.

Zoe and Connor bond a little bit in a short scene before the assembly

Zoe: wheres Evan what happened?

Connor: Kleinman Did!

Zoe: what?

Connor: Why Do you care?

Zoe: because! you look happy around him!

Connor: i, i do?

Zoe: yeah? he could tell the worst joke ever written and you’d crack up. i haven’t heard you laugh like that in years Connor, maybe ever.

Connor: oh.

Zoe: Come back inside?

Connor: y, Yeah.

they all perform You Will Be Found together.

end act 1.

(no more dialogue from here i got tired)

to break in a glove is Connor’s dad trying to reconnect with him, it goes mediocrely, but Connor feels like hes being seen by his dad for the first time in years. its said in metaphors, but this is Connors dads way of saying that if Connor is willing to put in the work, so is he. they hug at the end, things are looking up. some talk of therapy is sprinkiled in the dialogue as they walk of stage together.

Only Us is Evan and Connor saying that they saved each other. its loosely romantic, as its a love song, but they don’t out right say that they’re in love or anything, they don’t know if theyre ready for that. its a promise. the song ends with Connor finally apologizing for pushing Evan over at the beginning of the show.

good for you is sung by jared only, as a power ballad, about losing people you didn’t treasure. its his attempt at an apology, but it ultimately fails, since jared is unable to take responsibility for his own actions. this is where jared and Evan go their separate ways.

Evan’s mom comforts him, as he sings words fail, which is about specifically jared, and how their rocky friendship is ruined and Evan pegs himself as the cause, instead of parents or perfect girl he uses metaphors that apply to best friends— maybe more. and talks about how he didn’t try, he was happy so he ignored that jared was hurting, and how that was really shitty of him. but instead of it being a generally somber song the end is lighter, because Connor is there— waving through his front window.

Evans mom sings So Big/So Small as Evan steps out the front door to embrace Connor and they mime talking about jared, hug and take hands. the house moves off stage in preparation for the finale.

Connor and Evan open the finale saying each others names, and sing it together as the test of the cast (minus jared) joins in, Evans mom taking his hand and Zoe Taking Connors, Evans mom the Murphys and Zoe break off to the back where Evan and Connor finish the final “all i see is sky for forever” while looking into each others eyes, and finish the musical by embracing (maybe kissing if thats ur jam).

#dear evan hansen #deh #connor murphy #evan hansen #zoe murphy #musicals #broadway #deh rewrite i guess?#this is more like the outline of a fic i’ll never write #kd.txt #i was posessed to write this #tree bros

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littledarlinwrites · 5 years ago

Text

Ocean Eyes - Chapter 1

Burning Cities & Napalm Skies

Boxer!Bucky x Reader

Word count: 1459

Author's note: this is written for @saiyanprincessswanie, I hope you like it dear, and thank you so very much for being so patient! Also, shout out to my sweet alliebeans (@all1e23) for being my beta! I honestly don't know what I would do with you.

Warnings: abusive relationship. Yelling, cursing, degrading remark this is about 2 paragraphs long towards the end, if you need to skip this it's outlined with ~ at the beginning and end of those two paragraphs so you can skip that bit if needed. Bucky is barely in this chapter, however, he will be in the next, gotta set things up and all that jazz.

Sweat dripped from his brow, stinging his eyes. The sparring match with Steve lasting longer than most, until he saw a pretty girl walk in that caught his eye. Unfortunately, that was also the moment Steve's fist did too.

"Oh shit, Buck? You okay?" Steve cursed.

"Language Rogers," Bucky managed to chuckle out as Steve went to get him a bag of ice. He could tell even from a distance the girl was quiet, reserved, almost shy and meek. She was out of element, but also had an excitement sparkling in her eyes. Then he saw Rumlow wrap his arm around her waist. A sickening smirk sent Bucky's way. His eyes dropping back down to the mat beneath his feet until his trainers feet enter his line of sight.

"Time to call it a night. Pierce is here to train Rumlow. Want to grab a bite to eat?"

"Nah man, I'm not hungry." Bucky said as his stomach soured. He didn't like either man. Rumlow always was a macho alpha male, and Pierce was a slimy bastard who hasn't gotten caught working two opposing gyms, yet. Bucky had lost his appetite.

****

You walked into the gym with your boyfriend. You were nervous, but the excitement that your boyfriend held was contagious, not to mention you hadn't stepped foot near a boxing ring since your dad passed away ten years ago. Boxing wasn't the same without him, and it always brought a bit of pain to your heart, but you swallowed it down to accompany your boyfriend to his practice session he demanded you attended. You felt his fingers grip nearly painfully into your waist, and you were sure you couldn't completely hide the grimace gracing your face. When Brock released you to go sit on one of the aluminum chairs there were set up around the ring. Your shoulder brushing the man leaving that caught your eye when you entered. He was focused, took a hit as well as he gave them, and his blue eyes were captivating. You caught his eyes once again as he apologized, his touch to you arm to steady you making your heart skip a beat, and it was gone in that same measure, almost causing it to falter.

You blinked and made your way to the chair beside a blonde man sitting with an open sketch book in his lap. The trainer that was working with the brunette that seems to have captivated you quickly. You sit down beside him, arms around yourself as you watched Brock train with Pierce. You couldn't help but glance at the sketchpad his pencil scratched against. The sketch, only half done, was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. It was of a woman, hair perfectly coiffed, captivating eyes, and the man was sketching out the makings of a smirk on her face. You couldn't help but gasp at the beautiful image.

"I hope that was a good thing." The man says with a smirk, but the brief glimpse at his eyes showed vulnerability.

"Oh, sorry. It was. A good thing that is. It's beautiful."

"Ya think so?"

"Definitely. How long have you been working on it?"

"Started it last night after our third date. She's a helluva dame. She wants to see my artwork sometime soon. Just nervous about it."

"You shouldn't be. It's beautiful."

"Thanks. Ya know, I've seen you around here, but I don't think I've ever caught your name. I'm Steve Rogers, by the way."

"Y/N Y/L/N." You say, your trembling hand reaching his. His grasp was soft, gentle. Something you didn't realize could come from a man of his stature, let alone a boxer.

"It's nice to meet you. You Rumlow's girl?" Steve asks as he continues his sketch, his eyes glancing up every once and a while to show he was still engaged in the conversation.

"Uh, yeah." You responded, glancing up at Brock. The ferocious look on his face as he continued to practice sending a shiver down your spine.

"How long have you guys been together?"

"About three years."

"Wow, that's a while."

"Yeah. We met at a bar while I was out with the girls. Some guy spilled his drink all over me and then tried 'helping' to clean it up. Brock stepped in and the rest is history."

"Huh, didn't realize he was such a white knight. Then again he's on the other team that we usually spare against. Not like we all hang out drinking beers together after."

You and Steve continued chatting until Brock stood beside you with his hand gripping your shoulder.

"Time to go Y/N, I have an early morning." His tone left no room for argument. You stood with your eyes downcast, simply raising your hand to steve in a shy wave and began walking beside Brock into the cold night air.

That wasn't the last time you ran into Steve, you'd find him in the same spot with the same sketchpad most nights that Brock was training. You quickly learned that the nights he wasn't there were the nights that him and his friend which was also his boxer, Bucky, had a match. There was one fateful night, the night before Brock's match against Bucky, that Steve was there sketching. Your whole body was tense. You weren't sure how long you could keep doing this. Steve must have noticed since he slipped you a piece of paper with his number and a note which read, "in case you need anything." You left the gym that night with Brock as always, however, you could feel the anger radiating from him the entire way home.

You jumped at the same of every door in your shared apartment, the sound of every heavy footfall. You knew the yelling was coming after the second slam of the fridge door. Brock must have been on his third or fourth drink by now.

You quietly left the bathroom to your shared bedroom. You dreaded it every night. Crawling into the same bed with the man you used to love, but now all you do is fear.

Surprisingly you were able to fall asleep quickly, and stay that way through the night. When you woke you could hear Brock in the kitchen. You saw his empty gym bag at the foot of the bed and decided to start packing it for him. You were almost finished when he walked into the bedroom.

"Hey baby." He whispers in your ear as his hands run across the still tender flesh of your arms.

"Hey." You stammer out breathlessly. You feel like caged prey, but you also can't help but relax into his embrace, one that could be loving when he wanted to be, like now. You pull out his red shorts, folding them so they wouldn't wrinkle in his bag.

"Wait. You're packing my red shorts? Are you kidding me!" He spats as his grip tightens. "You know that's the other team's colors. I wear black for matches, you know that!" You quickly moved out of the way as he ripped the shorts from your hands and tossed them across the room. You sat down on your side of the bed with your knees to your chest.

~~~~~~~~~

"You're absolutely useless you know that?" He says as he begins repacking his bag. "You knew I had a match today yet here you were lazing about in bed all morning before you decided to drag your ass out of it to pack my bag. Couldn't make me breakfast, couldn't clean. You can't do anything right!" He says as he strides over to your side of the bed after zipping his bag closed. He grabbed your still bruised upper arms causing you to flinch, but you knew better than to fight back.

"At least be ready to celebrate my win tonight, you've slept enough for it. Unless I need to go find someone who can at least fuck me right." He spat in your face before shoving you backwards, causing the back of your head the thump against the wall hard enough to cause spots to dance across your vision. You felt yourself being tossed around, handing mapping their way across your skin in the unloving manner you became accustomed to. You heard a voice shouting obscenities, degrading you, your worth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A while later your vision cleared as you heard the door slam. Brock had left the apartment. You struggled from your spot in the corner onto shakey and bruised legs. You made your way to the book you had stashed between the mattress and box spring, your fingers fumbling for the price of paper shoved between its pages.

"Steve, I need your help."

#bucky barnes x reader #boxer!bucky x reader #bucky x reader #boxer au #ocean eyes

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porkchop-ao3 · 5 years ago

Text

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 57)

Agent Wilson

This one’s a pretty long one, I hope it makes up for the week I missed. Just a warning for some mild sexual references, and there’s a little angst too. I hope you enjoy! Shit’s about to kick off lemme tell you :P

I really hope the formatting of this isn’t fucked up somehow. I’m having some computer problems and I don't have chrome installed right now so I’m using Microsoft edge, and it seems a little different when pasting this stuff in. Idk. Hopefully it’s fine.

Tagging @emily-strange ❤

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

Our campsite was thankfully untouched after our short trip away, though there wasn't really much worth stealing anyway, besides an old tent. When we arrived back, Arthur immediately started cooking up some of the wolf meat for us, some generous slabs that he seasoned with oregano for a little more flavour. It smelled delicious, I hadn't noticed how hungry I'd become, and I was salivating long before it was ready to eat.

"You feeling a little better now that you've had a night away?" He asked me.

"My head feels clearer,” I nodded, "feel like I can breathe again. I'm not really looking forward to going back but I know we have to.”

"We'll be fine. It'll all have been forgotten about, just like when I kicked his teeth in."

"Do you think I should apologise, clear the air?" I asked. Arthur chuckled, then realised I was seriously asking.

"If it'd make you feel better, then– but that tells him that you were in the wrong, and he'll go 'round thinking that he can just get away with doing what he wants. Including touching you, which I ain't having. If you hadn't throttled him, I would've, and I certainly wouldn't've apologised," he said, spearing some cooked meat on a fork and handing it to me. I thanked him and blew on it to cool it.

"You're right. He shouldn't've touched me," I said.

"I'd say just steer clear. Don't let him pull you in, just ignore anything he says. He ain't worth it," he advised, and I let his words sink in. He was right.

"How long do you think we could get away with staying out here?" I asked. He glanced up at me from the fresh lump of meat he was cooking over the fire. He thought for a while.

"I think," he began slowly, then sighed, a guilty look appearing on his face, "I gotta see Dutch today. I promised Charles I'd go and speak to Rains Fall, but then I gotta meet a few people from Wapiti and Dutch. He's got something planned with Eagle Flies, wants me to be there."

"What's Dutch wanna do with him?" I questioned, then took a bite of meat.

"I… I don't know. It don't feel right; I got a feeling he's planning on using him and the situation his people're in as some kind of opportunity," he sighed. I frowned deeply. "It's an ugly business, I'm hoping I can help keep things from getting too out of hand."

"Out of hand, how?"

"Like if Eagle Flies and the others fight back hard enough, it might only land them in more trouble. Rains Fall can see that, but his son's a little hard to convince, apparently."

I nodded in recognition. "Charles told me a little of this while you were away, he was helping them back then. I feel like I should do something–"

"No. Not now Dutch has his hands on the situation, I don't want you near it. 'Sides, your leg ain't healed yet. I bet Susan'll have some words for both of us when we get back as it is," he was quick to respond. I exhaled and looked away. "But anyway, all this means I gotta head off soon."

My heart thumped. "What if I wanted to stay?"

Arthur's mouth opened but nothing came out for a few long moments. "Well, if you wanted to, I couldn't stop you."

I looked down and considered it as an option for a while, chewing and swallowing some more food before continuing. "We could ride back, then I'll pick up a few extra things from camp and come back here while you go and do what you've gotta do. Then I guess, if you wanna come here again when you're done, you can," I suggested. "But that's up to you. I just don't feel ready to go back yet."

"You'll be okay out here alone, with your injury? With the wolves?” He asked, not doubtful, but genuinely asking.

"I think so. I'll have my rifle, and I'll keep my wits about me," I told him, though my confidence did waver a bit at the mention of wolves, "maybe I'll even go and drop in on Mrs. Balfour tomorrow."

"Yeah?" He smiled a little.

"You think that'd be okay? Or should I– maybe she don't want to see me. You're the one who helped her, after all," I murmured, finishing off my food.

"I think she'd appreciate it," he nodded his head, biting into his own cooked meat and speaking only after he'd swallowed, "she ain't had a good time of it. She could use some kindness."

"I'm a little worried about her, not being able to hunt."

"We'll do something about that," he reassured me.

"You're a sweet man, Arthur. Ain't many men who'd help a woman like that, 'least not without wanting something in return," I said, and he shrugged dismissively. "I'm serious. You're a gem. You helped me get out safely that night in Blackwater. You helped Penelope get away with her love. And you're helping Charlotte. And Mrs. Downes–"

"Mrs. Downes wouldn't need help if it weren't for me, and Strauss' scams," he cut me off. I exhaled quietly.

"Don't, Arthur. You're always denying the good things people say about you," I shook my head. He kept his eyes on mine for a while, his mouth open a little, but he never spoke. "You're a gem," I repeated.

He didn't respond, but he exhaled something close to a laugh and a bashful smile appeared on his face. He continued eating his breakfast, finishing off the chunk of meat speared by his knife. When he was done he reached into his satchel and pulled out his journal, crossing his legs and flicking through the pages until he came upon a blank one. I watched him idly as he started jotting things down inside. Curiosity got the better of me.

"What're you writing about?" I asked him. He cleared his throat and made me wait a while before answering.

"About last night," he said. I thought back, mind filtering through our evening until it settled on what we'd done in his tent. I imagined myself pressed up against his back, my hand inside his union suit, pressing kisses to his neck and his shoulder as he hummed out quiet moans, the slick sound of my hand on him just barely audible. My face flushed warm.

"About what I…" I trailed off. His face was blank for a moment, then he laughed at the realisation.

"No, not that," he said. "Just about what happened with Micah, how we came out here. How nice it was to be alone again, you know, I always miss this when we're back at camp," he elaborated, looking up at me.

"Yeah me too," I nodded.

"I will come back here after I've done what I've gotta do. We'll spend another night here together, at least."

"That makes me happy," I beamed, shuffling close to him and hugging his arm, leaning my head on his shoulder. Arthur went back to writing, I didn't read what he put but I was touched that he didn't mind that I was so close while he wrote. But I did glance down as he started flicking back through the book; I just wanted to see more of his lovely drawings. One page caught my eye; it was full of drawings of birds, but none like I'd seen in person before, only in artwork. They looked exotic. I stopped him on that page, and enquired about them.

"These were in Guarma. When I came back, I wrote down everything I remembered. Drew some things too," he explained. "The whole island was full of parrots. Brightest coloured feathers I ever saw, these drawings don't do 'em justice."

"Well, I think they're beautiful, even without the colour," I told him, leaning closer to inspect his sketches. A whole spread of them, some close ups of their heads, others of them taking flight, they were all lovely. I was glad to see that something nice had come out of the whole ordeal. "You haven't spoken much about Guarma," I said gingerly.

Arthur nodded, and he was still for a moment.

"It weren't easy talking about it when I first got back," he admitted. I was careful with how I phrased my next question, not wanting to pressure him.

"If you ever wanted to talk about it, you know I'm here, right?"

"Yeah, I know. Just felt like too much to go into. None of it was nice, I don't want you getting upset about it," he revealed. My lips parted silently, and it took me some time to know what to say.

"I know you're alive and you're okay. So, I couldn't get too upset now," I said.

"I don't remember much from the first day or two," he said, "but I think they're easier to talk about."

"Yeah?" I shifted, sitting upright so I could look at him.

"The boat went down in the night. We were all sleeping and suddenly we had to get up, the sea was so choppy; we was getting thrown around like ragdolls. Anyway, we got split up. Dutch and the others got out on a boat, but I… didn't," he began. I frowned deeply at the revelation but let him carry on. "That's when things get hazy. I know I went into the water but I don't know nothing about how I lived long enough to wash up on that island,

"Nor do I remember much about what I did when I got there. Think I just walked, looking for people. Eventually I saw smoke and I followed it; that's how I regrouped with the others. But we got captured soon after that. Javier got shot, we went off with some feller, weren't from Guarma. Hercule, his name was. And that's– that's when–"

Arthur stopped and he was frowning. I reached over and squeezed his knee.

"Well, I said I'd help with some situation the workers on the island was in. Reckon I got shot by a tranquilizer dart, woke up to getting the shit smacked out of me by some angry feller," he shook his head. "Anyway, we all ended up helping Hercule with some things, he was getting us a boat off the island."

"What sort of things?"

Arthur shook his head and exhaled audibly, "fighting against Fussar, the man who was in charge. He was at the party at the mayor's house, believe it or not. Maybe you saw him, he was the one with all the medals and whatnot," he gestured to his chest and I thought back. I had vague recollections of such a man, but I hadn't paid much attention at the time.

"Yeah, I think," I nodded.

"Dutch and I saved Javier from where him and his army were keeping him, then, to cut a long story short, I killed him. He knew who we was and weren't letting us off the island, so he had to go. Though my sense is the world will be a better place without him, anyway."

"And then you came back?"

"And then we came back," he nodded. He sighed heavily, then met my eyes. "That's about it, summed up. I also blew up a warship with a cannon, watched Dutch strangle an old lady to death, and saw way more of Micah's pot-belly than I ever needed to. So yeah, it weren't a nice trip, and every day I just wanted to be back home."

I couldn't even laugh at the slice of humour Arthur tried to bring in about Micah's stomach. I reached for him, squeezing his upper arm and stroking it comfortingly.

"That's a lot to go through," I whispered. He stared at me for a moment, his eyes widened slightly, mouth parted a little. He looked stunned. Sad. Like he was realising that yes, it was a lot to go through. Then he exhaled sharply and looked away.

"Well, least I got to see a tropical island. Probably never would've seen anything like it otherwise, never mind what Dutch says about us all being mango farmers," it was a poor attempt at finding a silver lining, just like my thoughts about Arthur's beautiful drawings. I didn't take away from it, though.

"Yeah, at least there's that," I leaned over and kissed his shoulder.

"Dare I say it might've been quite nice if I'd gone there on purpose, and you were there too, and there weren't no Fussar bullshit to deal with," he breathed a laugh. "Even so, ain't thinking of going back."

"I'm content with Blackwater being the most exotic and far out place I've ever visited," I chuckled, and he joined me.

"Anyway, I better get going. Shall we pack up? We'll do like you said, head back and I'll get Jet, then you can come back here with some fresh clothes and some more food. We've even got some pelts for Pearson so he can't whine too much about his helper leaving with a few cans of vegetables."

"Sure, though I feel a little bad now you put it like that," I murmured.

"Don't. I damn well paid for most of it anyway," he told me with a bitter, annoyed edge to his voice that almost made me smile because it seemed to me, if only for a second, Arthur was accepting all he did for the gang. And how sometimes, it wasn't fair.

"Is there anything I can do for you, lighten the load a little?"

"No–" he began automatically, then paused. "Actually, I got some stuff needs selling to a fence, jewellery and the like. John told me all those months ago that you was good with bartering with the trapper, maybe a clever, pretty lady like you'll get a better deal than me."

"I'll give it my best shot," I grinned.

We got moving, deconstructing our little camp and putting out the fire. We rode back to Beaver Hollow, and when we hitched Rayna up with the other horses, Arthur stopped to kiss me once before telling me where he was keeping the jewellery, and asking me to be discreet when I retrieved it. He headed straight off, telling me to be safe and promising to return to me later on at Brandywine Drop. I watched him ride off on his own horse before walking into camp.

My heart was pounding. I scanned the place, seeing people glance up from what they were doing to look at me. They didn't stare or say anything, and I quickly realised that things were just as Arthur had assured me; people had pretty much forgotten about my outburst and weren't at all bothered. But then again, Micah wasn't around, and I did wonder if he would have something to say next time we crossed paths.

I went straight to Pearson's wagon, finding the man himself sitting behind it smoking a cigarette. He seemed pretty down most days, quiet and morose but irritable when bothered. I trod carefully when I approached him.

"Morning, Mr. Pearson," I said. He lifted his head, addressing me with a mildly surprised gaze.

"Ahh, there she is. Thought you weren't coming back, the way you left yesterday," he chuckled.

"Mm, not my finest hour," I sighed leaning up against the wagon and pressing my boot against a stone on the ground, pressing it into the mud. "Being stuck at camp, doing nothing, maybe I went a little stir crazy."

"You feeling better now?" He asked. I pursed my lips and met his eyes.

"A little," I said. "I uh, I'm gonna spend another day away from camp. Arthur and I are sleeping up at Brandywine Drop."

His brows raised a little, "oh, okay. You want me to tell Dutch when he gets back–"

"No. You needn't say anything to anyone. I just thought it'd be a good idea for someone to know where we are," I shrugged. "Mind if I steal a little food?"

He sighed, but waved a hand towards the wagon.

"Thank you," I smiled at him sweetly and he chuckled, shaking his head at me.

I rounded the wagon and gathered a couple of things; some canned sweetcorn, biscuits, ground coffee and some strawberries for something sweet. We wouldn't need a lot of food, we still had plenty of meat left from the wolves and I knew I could forage some carrots and berries around the river as well if need be.

"By the way, I have some meat and some pelts for you," I called to Pearson. I heard him shuffle and grunt as he pushed himself to his feet and rounded the wagon to join me. "Three wolf pelts. There's some meat wrapped up in the saddlebag, on Rayna."

"Thank god," he breathed, and started heading towards the horses, "was starting to think we'd have to start eating each other."

"Just leave enough for me and Arthur," I called to him, slipping away the supplies in my satchel and then heading across the camp to our tent.

I pulled some fresh clothes from my suitcase, laying them out on the bed, then bent down to Arthur's own chest. I retrieved some clothes for him too, placed them with mine, then reached right to the bottom of his chest until I felt the drawstring bag he'd mentioned to me. I discreetly pulled it out and placed it on top of our clothes, rolling it up to create a nice little bundle that would fit into my saddlebag.

"Are you leaving?" John asked, calling out from his place at the campfire.

"Yeah," I answered simply.

"Shit, does Arthur know?" He exclaimed, getting up and coming over. I looked at him with a mild frown.

"Arthur's coming with me," I told him. He stared with his mouth hanging open, and I was so confused until I replayed the conversation in my head and realised what he thought I meant. "Oh, we're not leaving leaving, for good. Just another night."

"Oh, right," he exhaled, a hand smacking to his chest. He blew through his pursed lips and chuckled. "Had me worried for a second."

"Don't worry, if we leave we'll be sure to drag you kicking and screaming, too," I said, half joking.

"Right," he laughed, shaking his head. "Anyway, how'd it feel to have your hands round Micah's neck?"

"They weren't there long enough to really take notice," I sighed, tucking the bundle of clothes under my arm. "I couldn't say."

"You could try, sure would be nice to find out," he smirked. I rolled my eyes with a sigh.

"Where is he anyway?" I asked.

John glanced around. "I don't know. Probably out there terrorising some poor innocent folk."

"How's he been? I mean, has he said much about what happened?"

"Not really. Everything kind of just went back to normal once you and Arthur left, you know how it is."

"Good," I nodded. "And Dutch?"

"Dutch," he scoffed, "he still ain't speaking to me, much. Not like I really want him to."

"I wonder who he hates more, you or me," I snorted. "Anyway, I gotta go. Have an errand to run, then I'm heading back out for another night. Just need time away, try and pull myself together."

"You okay on your own?"

"Course," I smiled, "Arthur said he'd join me later on, he's got plenty to do today."

"Well, you just take care, alright?" He patted my arm. "If anything happened to you, Morgan would be hell to live with."

I breathed a laugh and shook my head at him. I wrapped my free arm around his shoulders and pulled him in for a hug. He made a surprised grunt, but returned my hug quickly, if a little awkwardly.

"John, I'm… I'm real glad I met you," I whispered.

"Yeah, me too, Miss," he replied quietly, almost shyly, patting my back before releasing me. I stepped back and looked up at him. The little smile he wore made me chuckle, it was clear he wasn't used to much friendly affection.

"I'll see you later," I told him, then ducked out from under the cover of the tent.

"Sure," he nodded, watching me go.

I hitched Rayna up outside the saloon in Van Horn, figuring I could go for a short drink after selling the jewellery. I dug the drawstring bag of treasure out of my saddlebag, tucking it into my satchel before feeding Rayna an apple.

"Won't be long, baby," I whispered to her, patting her neck.

I headed along the path towards the edge of Van Horn, taking a breath and becoming reacquainted with the place after such a long time. It looked even more run down than the last time I'd visited, and I almost couldn't believe that I used to like the place. It still had that weird, out of the way, different feel to it, which I guess was part of its charm. It was a real unique place.

I reached the end of the wooden boardwalk where the fence was situated, and entered. I was greeted by a thick Scottish accent.

"Hello there," he said, his tone cheery.

"Hey, mister. How you doing today?" I asked, giving him a big smile.

"Not too bad, yourself? That's a nasty limp you've got," he noted, nodding towards my leg. I might've hammed it up a bit on my way in, in a bid to appeal to his sympathetic side.

"Oh, I got burned," I told him a little breathlessly. That was genuine; I was surprised how much energy it took to move around when I was conscious of my injury. "But I'm… I'm fine."

"You sure? You need help with that bag?" He nodded towards the canvas drawstring tucked under my arm, and I shook my head.

"I got it. It's actually what I came to show you; got some things to sell," I told him, putting the bag down on the counter, hearing the clink of its contents. I pulled open the drawstring and reached inside, not even fully aware what was in there, just that Arthur had collected it all over the past few months and hadn't had the chance to sell it before the Guarma situation. Penelope's bracelet was somewhere inside; her reward for all of his help.

I pulled out the first thing my hand touched; a smaller bag. It was filled with assorted rings, earrings, pearls.

"I usually buy bundles like that for fifty," the fence told me, "I don't have time to go through the whole lot and value individually."

"Sure, okay, but just for this little bag. There's more in here, some is worth far more than that," I told him, getting my insistence in early, making sure he knew I wasn't going to accept pittance. I flipped the bigger canvas bag and gently emptied it onto the counter.

Inside, I counted seven gold rings, a pocket watch, a necklace that appeared to be platinum, a sapphire encrusted bracelet that I guessed was Penelope's…And rather disturbingly, a gold tooth. The fence inspected the lot, checking for markings, its condition. He picked up Penelope's bracelet, scrutinising it more closely, watching the light dance within the stunning blue stones.

"This is really nice. I won't ask how you acquired it," he said, and I had to chuckle considering it was probably the most honestly acquired of the bunch. He never said a word about the tooth. "I'll give you seventy-five for the bracelet. The other stuff… one hundred."

"A hundred and seventy-five for the whole lot? But this is platinum. And the pocket watch and all the rest of it is gold. You can do a little better than that, sir. That bracelet's gotta be worth a hundred on its own," I raised my brows at him. He met my eyes over the bracelet and chuckled.

"I can do one-eight-five," he offered. I pursed my lips, clasping my hands together and tilting my head at him. He laughed again, shaking his head at me. He put the bracelet down and stared at the lot.

"You can do two-hundred. You know you can," I said cheekily. He blew a jet of air between his lips, brows jumping. "Pretty please?"

"You're gonna try sweet-talking me, Miss?" He accused, humoured.

"What do you say? A tidy two-hundred?" I offered my hand out. He considered, looking at my outstretched hand.

"Two-hundred…" he muttered, then roughly took my hand, shaking it once.

"Yes! Thank you, sir!" I cheered, clapping my hands together.

"Since you're so polite," he murmured, turning to his register and opening it up. He counted out the money and handed it over. I tucked it away in the bottom of my bag, and was as aware of it as I was the revolver at my hip.

"Much appreciated, you take care, now," I nodded at him, spinning on my heel and heading out before he had the chance to change his mind.

"You too, madam, watch that leg," he called, and I smiled over my shoulder at him.

I took a deep breath of the salty air, smiling on the sharp exhale, and started heading back up the boardwalk towards dry land. I headed for the saloon, where Rayna was still hitched. I gave her a rub on the neck before stepping up onto the deck and entering the saloon. I glanced around once I was inside; spotting a mix of characters. Mostly drunk locals lounging about the place, a couple of women, and some more sharply dressed men at the back of the room. I took a spot at the bar, leaning my elbows on it and greeting the lady serving.

"Can I get a beer, please?" I asked, sliding a coin across the bar. She cracked open the cap of a bottle and placed it in front of me, "thanks," I added.

I took a first sip, sighing out at the quiet moment in the saloon. Well, it wasn't quiet, the place was full of chatter and noise, but quiet in the sense that it was normal. I was just sitting at a bar, having a drink, on my own. Something I hadn't done since before I joined the Van Der Linde gang. Not that for a second I missed this kind of life, not once Arthur and I grew close, but it was a nice if not strange reprieve from my new reality.

"Whiskey, please, ma'am," one of the well dressed men from the back of the room appeared beside me. He was quiet while he waited for his drink, but I sensed him looking at me. I wasn't in the mood to speak to anyone, so I kept my eyes on my beer.

"Here you go, officer," the barmaid said as she handed him his drink, and my heart thumped.

"You just come in, Miss?" He asked, and I knew he was speaking to me. I lifted my head. The gentleman was raven-haired and had skin so pale it was almost sickly, a pair of waxy, dull grey eyes and a large mole on his cheek. He wore a clean suit and his hair bore the flattened style of someone who wore a hat until sitting down at a table.

"Uh, yeah. Couple minutes ago," I nodded, then averted my eyes.

"My colleagues and I did the rounds already; we're asking folks around here a few questions. There's been a criminal gang pass through these parts," he said. My lips parted and my eyes widened, a gasp sucking in without my permission. "You alright, Miss?"

"Is… is it safe to be here?" I asked, straightening up and looking around anxiously.

He breathed a laugh and smiled reassuringly. "Me and those fellers back there," he turned and glanced their way, and I followed his gaze. "We're with the Pinkerton Detective Agency. It's our job to keep people safe, while we're around, you ain't got nothing to worry about."

"Well, that sure is a relief," I exhaled, hoping my nerves wouldn't seem suspicious, given the circumstance.

"We're here mostly to ensure the people of Van Horn remain vigilant while these people are in the area, and also to make them aware that there's people they can report to should they notice anything odd," he continued, taking a sip of whiskey with his pause, "are you aware of the Van Der Linde gang, Miss?"

"Well, sure, I've read the name in the papers. I try not to get too caught up in it, however, frays my nerves," I told him. "But it's never been so close to home before," I shook my head.

"We understand that the gang's leader and four other men passed through here when they arrived back in the country via boat. They were in the state of Lemoyne for some time, and after a raid of their settlement they… they escaped capture and we believe they headed up this way. We're patrolling the area, but we're asking that people sound the alarm if they spot any of the people we're looking for. I have some photographs," he told me, reaching into his inner jacket pocket.

"You do?" I murmured quietly, looking at him through the corner of my eye as I sipped my beer– well, pretended to. I couldn't trust myself to swallow it without choking while I was so tense.

The Pinkerton placed a pile of small photographs in front of me. On the top of the stack, was Dutch.

"These men do not make up the entirety of the gang, there is a group of more than twenty men, women… and children," he sighed, then tapped on Dutch's face, "all following Dutch Van Der Linde."

"More than twenty? That's a big group. And you ain't managed to track 'em down yet?" I cocked a brow at him.

He chuckled at my criticism, droning some excuses while I ceased to listen, picking up the photographs and shuffling through them. They were all mugshots; Javier, Bill, John, Charles… of course, Arthur. I stared at his photo, his straight, unhappy face, his cold, level gaze, his strong jaw and lips pressed tight together in a threatening line. He was him, but so different to the version of him I was familiar with. This was the way they saw him.

"Do you recognise this man?" The Pinkerton's words pulled me out of my head and I met his eyes. My lips parted but I struggled to find something to say.

"No, he's just–" I stammered, looking back at the photo, "I realise it may be inappropriate given what a terrible man he is, but I can't help but notice what a handsome face he has," I breathed a laugh.

He hummed, polite but with distaste. He took the photos back and put them away in his pocket. "You're not the first woman to have made such comments. I would've hoped they'd have more sense, or better taste."

Something flickered in me. A twinge of possession. It reared its ugly head now and again and each time I battered it into submission.

"He's probably awful, though. A pretty face means nothing, then," I said, the corner of my lip curling up. I was suddenly having a little fun talking to the enemy, while he had absolutely no idea who I was. "I couldn't imagine how awful it'd be to be courted by such a man. To run with that gang. All those awful, heartless men," I tutted.

"This is the sort of poison we're trying to save America from. These outlaws, they– they tarnish this land. Take all that is pure and stain it with the blood of the innocent, and all the while do it with an entitled sense of invincibility as if they are free from all consequence. How they live like that and still sleep at night is beyond me."

"Beyond me," I agreed, nodding slowly. "It's terrible."

"We have had small victories, however. A member of the Van Der Linde gang was shot dead in the streets of Saint Denis last month; Hosea Matthews," he told me. My stomach turned and I looked at him, trying not to let him anger me. "I was told the others watched it, he died right in front of them," his mean laugh made me want to knock his block off.

"That so?" I hummed.

"They said the look on Van Der Linde's face was better than any paycheck," his teeth practically shone with his grin and I looked at them, wondering what it'd be like to see him picking them up off the floor. I would never try it, of course.

"Well, Mr…” I began, offering my hand to him.

"Mr. Wilson," he took my hand and shook it.

"It's been a pleasure talking with you, but I must get going," I said.

"Of course. And it's been a pleasure talking to you too, Miss…" he replied, and I didn't answer his prompt to give him my name. Not even my alias. I just took my beer and walked out the door.

I paused for a moment outside, bringing the bottle to my lips and gulping down the last of it, tossing the empty bottle aside carelessly before striding over to Rayna and mounting her, side-saddle. I clicked at her, turning her away from the hitching post and onto the road, away from the agents.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #fanfiction #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #atink #reader insert #rdr2 fanfic

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azure-story-corner · 5 years ago

Text

Let Me Be Gay For the Bard | Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The shadows in the room grew long as the sun sank further into the horizon. Jaskier was currently getting ready for his performance of the night. (Y/N) sat on the bed cleaning his armor while softly humming. Jaskier was the first to break the comforting silence. “Today had to be one of the most relaxing days I have had in a long time,” the singer said looking over at his friend.

“Haven’t you just sat back and done nothing before?” (Y/N) asked, looking at Jaskier questioningly. “I have, just not with another,” Jaskier admitted, “Well other than sex, I haven’t just laid in bed and cuddled a person.” (Y/N) simply nodded, “It is a pretty calming thing, laying in bed holding a person and just talking.” A smile graced the adventurer’s lips as he looked down at his armor.

“You are not wrong,” Jaskier said with a sigh. The singer soon finished getting ready going over to the bed and grabbing his lute. “Wish to join me downstairs, my dear?” He asked, looking at (Y/N). (Y/N) laughed softly, his (E/C) eyes seemed to sparkle. “I would love to,” the adventurer replied, getting up. The two men walked downstairs (Y/N) splitting off to go find a place to sit while Jaskier went to begin his performance.

Jaskier’s performance started like all the others with a few of his more well known songs before diving into songs he rarely sang. To (Y/N) the performance was just as wonderful as all the others he heard. Like the first night the adventurer heard the bard perform, (Y/N) sat there with his journal out sketching the handsome man singing. Jaskier looked over at his friend as he began playing a new song, one (Y/N) never heard.

I have a question

It might seem strange

How are your lungs?

Are they in pain?

(Y/N) tilted his wondering what this song was about. When did Jaskier make this one? He hasn’t heard this one before.

'Cause mine are aching

Think I know why

I kinda like it though

You wanna try?

Jaskier gave him a sweet smile as he continued to sing. His voice soft and playful sounding almost, it was certainly different than the bard’s normal songs.

Oh would you be

So kind

As to fall in love with me, you see

I'm trying

I know you know that I like you

But that's not enough

So if you will

Please fall in love

I think it's only fair

There's gotta be some butterflies somewhere

Wanna share?

'Cause I like you

But that's not enough

So if you will

Please fall in love with me

(Y/N) found himself blushing lightly as he listened to the song. He smiled looking down like an idiot not entirely sure what to do. (Y/N) knew the bard for less than a month but that month was the best month of his life. He knew he liked the other but he wasn’t sure what the extent of it was. They grew close rather quickly and neither one seemed to think much of it. It all came so naturally to the two men almost as if they knew each other for years. The people in the tavern looked at Jaskier and followed his gaze to the man in the booth who was looking rather flustered.

Let's write a story

Be in my book

You've got to join me on my page

At least take a look

Oh, where are your manners?

You need some time?

Let's swap chests today

That might help you decide

Jaskier closed the distance between the two as he sang. (Y/N) looked up watching as the other approached him. Red blush darkening his cheeks.

Oh, would you be

So kind

As to fall in love with me, you see

I'm trying

I know you know that I like you

But that's not enough

So if you will

Please fall in love

I think it's only fair

There's gotta be some butterflies somewhere (wanna share)

'Cause I like you

But that's not enough

So if you will

Please fall in love

Oh I like you

But that's not enough

So if you will

Please fall in love with me

When the song ended Jaskier was merely feet away from the other looking at the adventurer as the whole tavern burst into applause. “What did you think?” Jaskier asked, moving to take a seat across from the other a large smile across his face.

(Y/N) looked up at him, blushing across his face a soft laugh leaving him. “It was-... Gods,” he said another nervous laugh left him. “I loved it,” he finally said. Jaskier’s smile seemed to widen at the other's answer. “I am glad! That last song was one I made up while you were out doing a contract last week. Wasn’t sure how it would turn out,” Jaskier admitted with a soft laugh. “That explains why I never heard it before,” (Y/N) said. “I was thinking of playing it for you earlier today but I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Jaskier said, rubbing his neck as he looked at him. “Oh yes because confessing your undying love while cuddled up to me would make me uncomfortable,” (Y/N) teased with a laugh. “Hey, I didn’t know if you openly cuddled with all of your friends,” Jaskier defended, laughing. (Y/N) shook his head, “Only you.”

The laughter between the two died out and they were left staring at each other. (Y/N) attempted to say something, his mouth opening before closing. He wasn’t sure what to say but before he could gain the confidence to try and speak Jaskier had leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the other’s lips. (Y/N) was surprised, his eyes widening for a split second before he closed his eyes and returned the tender kiss.

A sigh left the bard when he felt the other return the kiss. Jaskier was no stranger when it came to love, he often felt it and chased it down when he did. Almost every time it was just a longing for a partner and as soon as he felt it he wouldn’t think twice and try to catch it. Only this time was when it caught him. At first he expected this to be something similar to his time with Geralt but soon found that it wasn’t when (Y/N) started asking him questions. The adventurer wanted to get to know Jaskier and learn more behind him. In the first week the two almost seemed to know everything about each other. It felt so right. It was almost like they knew each other since childhood instead of meeting a few weeks before.

It was only a minute before the two broke the kiss. Jaskier reached over the table and grasped (Y/N)’s hand. (Y/N)’s eyes flickered from their hands to Jaskier’s blue eyes. “I love you, “ (Y/N) said softly, a bright and happy smile finding its way onto both their faces. “I love you too,” Jaskier said before leaning in and pressing another kiss to the adventurer’s lips.

Chapter 1 | Next chapter

{Another quick and small update. I do hope you enjoy the soft fluff I have a bit more planned. I know it seems rushed. I wanted it to seem like it came from out of nowhere and have no explanation because I had something similar happen to me with a person. Like you have no idea why you feel so comfortable around them or it feels like you knew the person forever even though you barely just met. The song is Would You Be So kind? Dodie Clark. I absolutely love this song. Please comment if you want me to continue with the fluff or if you’d like a bit more spice in the next chapter. Stay safe and have a wonderful day! - Osgon

#Jaskier #jaskier x reader #jaskier fanfiction #male!reader #the witcher #the witcher netflix #the witcher fanfiction #Let me be gay for the bard #gay fanfiction #soft fluff

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ladyartemisia28 · 4 years ago

Text

Say Amen(Chapter 5)

Chapter 5/?

Pairings: Prinxiety, side Logicality, Platonic Moxiety, Platonic/Family Logince, Platonic Royality.

Warnings: Cursing, mention of emotional abuse, unsympathetic Janus,

Words:4753

Summary: Sanders Sides Human College AU ~

Patton was sitting on his bed reading his history textbook when he heard a loud thud outside the door.

He opened the door to see Virgil bags on all of his body. It appeared that he had been knocking on the door with a boot clad foot.

Patton held the door open for his friend.

“Whoa, how'd you get all these bags onto the bus?!”

Patton took the bag of bagels from Virgil's mouth so he would have the ability to respond.

“I didn't take the bus” Virgil shuffled in and carefully placed all the bags onto the floor.

“Then... how?”

“Roman took me to the store.” the right side of his mouth lifting in a grimace. Virgil knew his best friend well enough that he to know that he would make a big deal about it.

“AWWWW! That's so cute!” Patton grinned widely as he helped Virgil put away their food. “And domestic! That's so great!!!”

“no it's not really not” he said with the sour look still on his face

“What's wrong Shadowling?” he asked his smile dropped from his face.

“I don't know if I'm going to be able to be able to survive being partners with him.”

“Did he say something? Did he do something?! I will physically fight him!” Patton offered as grabbed single bagel from the bag. He then placed the bag of bagels in a basket on top of the fridge

“Patton No! He didn't do anything like that!” Virgil said frantically as he motioned with his hands to stop. The last thing that he needed was Roman to lose teeth or have his pretty nose broken. “Please don't fight him!”

Patton place the lone bagel on his bed next to his book before returning to help Virgil with the remaining bags.

“Well that's good.” he said as he took the tub of margarine and put it into the fridge.

“He didn't even bring up what happened last night.” he said with a small touch of sadness in his voice.

“But you wanted him to?”

“No?” he said more of a question then a statement

“You shouldn't lie”

“Maybe,” he bit at his thumbnail as he spoke. “Like I want to know what he wants?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, he did me a favor, well favors at this point. The... ... thing at the party, the cleaning of my old hoodie, and then the grocery store trip. He's racking up a ton of things in his I.O.U. List.”

“Well he might be doing things for you because of his feelings for you.”

Virgil went to argue and was interrupted before he could start.

“You said yourself, he asked you to go to the party as date. You say no, but you end up together anyway!”

Virgil rolled his eyes with a small grin. He could practically see the anime stars in Patton's eyes.

“Like the universe was pulling you two together! He probably likes you even more.”

As Virgil finished his placement of grocery items in the small kitchen nook he turned to look at his bubbly roommate.

“No that can't be it. It has to be some sort of game.” Virgil replied to his friend's joyful rant.

“I think he just likes you.”

“Ha! I TRIED to flirt with him and... well he didn't take me up on it. He must of found someone else that he was interested in. You saw him at that party, with all those guys. ....” Virgil muttered his words lowering in volume and tone as he continued.

”Oh speaking of flirts, guess who I saw at the library today?” Virgil said in a louder happy to move onto a more positive topic.

“Don't try to change the subject!” he said as he climb upon his bed.

After a moment Patton's curiosity won out.

“Who did you see?”

“Remy”

“OH! ” Patton said with an excited clap of hands. “I LOVE that little Lambkins! How is he doing?”

“He continues to be the sassiest of asses, but he seems to be doing good. He was happy to hear that I'm not longer attached to YOU KNOW WHO....

“Yeah well.”

Virgil placed his bag on his bed and then he climbed on top of it.

“He kept sending pics of Roman that he found on Instagram. Like 'I don't need you to show me what he looks like! I'm right next to him in the meat section!'”

“Is that a euphemism?” Patton asked with a puppy-like head tilt.

“NO!” Virgil exclaimed in horror as he settled himself into a sitting position.

“Sorry, you know I don't know slang lingo stuff.”

He went to grab his headphones from his bag and paused as a he recalled a memory.

“Hey Pat.”

“Hmmm?”

“Your crush from History Class that you always say is so smart and handsome. The one that you told me and I quote has the most amazing eyes that have ever existed,” he rolled his eyes as he finger quoted.

Virgil may have been outwardly mocking Patton's description of this guy's eyes. But he could almost be accused of the same sort of sappiness.

He remembered one moment at the library when he caught himself looking at Roman when he was distractedly staring off into space.

Virgil was going to ask him to come back to earth but he was caught off guard by the way that the light had made his eyes look. Roman's eyes looked like a tiger's eye gemstone. A shifting series of browns.

' I never thought I'd be this big of a lameass. If anyone heard what I thought they would laugh at me.'

He shook his head at the memory and continued his conversation with his roommate

“This guy his name is Logan right?”

Patton's naturally rosy freckled face flushed with even more color and he just nodded in response.

“Does his last name happen to be Sanderson?” Virgil asked as he pleaded internally that his assumption was wrong.

“Yeah! It is! Patton answered. “Just the sisters from Hocus Pocus.”

Patton continued his words uninterrupted as Virgil fell backwards onto his bed.

“When I mentioned that to him he said the cutest thing! ” Patton said excitedly before he quoted Logan taking his glasses and adjusting them like an anime character as he did so. “'Ah yes, the Halloween cult classic yes, my younger brother is a fan of that, uh film.'"

“Cute, sure.” he muttered in mildly sarcastic tone. To Virgil's ear he would call the voice that Patton used to imitate him robot in tone. “I didn't...”

“What?”

“Take that for your type. He sounds a bit of a more serious no nonsense type. Like he wouldn't be that fun?”

Virgil threw an arm across his face to obscure his eyes.

“Yeah, he may be a bit serious. But just get him to talk about his interests and his whole being lights up like a christmas lights!” Patton said with an earnest feeling behind it. “And he was just so cool in class the other day! You should have seen him passionately defend Pluto's status as a planet! ”

“So do you think I'll be meeting Mr. Christmas Lights?” Virgil chuckled as he thought to himself.

'Out of everyone that could have been Patton's crush it's stupidly ironic that he happens to be the brother of my cru- NOPE! No don't you dare think that word anywhere near him. NO ROMANTIC ROMAN ALLOWED THOUGHTS!'

“Oh you just missed meeting him at the party! He helped me look for you.”

A cold feeling of realization hit Virgil hard as he sat up quickly to look over at Patton.

“What?!” he nearly shouted as the panic flooded his body.

Patton didn't reply as his eyes widened in surprise. From his face Virgil guessed that he had not realized that the information that he had shared would cause this particular type of reaction.

Patton was usually more emotionally astute but his heart was so full of infatuation for Logan that he was distracted enough to make a mistake.

Otherwise he probably would have prefaced his words with a little more warning.

“Are you telling me that guy in the tie, that you showed up with saw me make out with his BROTHER?!”

“Yeah...” Patton said with a sheepish tiny smile. “I guess in all the excitement I forgot to mention that to you”

Virgil groaned.

“I wish I had never heard of the fake-out make out.”

He grabbed his headphones from his bag, slide them onto his ears, and pulled up a play list. Virgil looked over the list and he spotted MCR and was reminded of the moment in the car.

He smiled in spite of himself.

'I can totally see why he is so comfortable on stage. He was.... radiant?...mesmerizing?... magnetic?

...Gods I don't even have the right words in my thoughts! It's like my world was just me and Roman and the song. I haven't met anyone that captivating since... ... ... Jae'

He needed to distract himself quickly and searched it for his sketchpad.

“Hey Pat didn't you pack my sketchpad in my bag this morning?”

“I sure did, why?”

'Crap'

“So do you happen to have Logan's number?”

Roman sat in one of the audience chairs while starting at monologue. His mind was not on the script at all though as he turned each page.

His thought were focused on the memory of Virgil's singing. His low rich baritone echoed faintly in his head. Roman would pay good money to have a recording of him.

He replayed his interactions with him afterwards when Virgil teased him about wanting to go back to his room.

'Oh NO! THAT WAS HIM FLIRTING!!! I should have flirted back! I love flirting! But the first day he got so angry when I flirted with him and now he's angry that I didn't!? What the Hell! Maybe since we kissed he wants more?! I gotta try really hard now!'

Roman decided focus all his of his attention on wooing Virgil.

He flipped over the paper and listed all of the things that he knew Virgil liked.

Honey Cluster Granola

Disney

Grape Gatorade

Puns

Count Chocola Cereal

The Black Cauldron

Nightmare Before Christmas

Evanescence

My Chemical Romance

While adding more to the list he was approached by the costume designer.

“Hey want to see a couple of my new sketches?” the small blue and pink haired enby asked as they offered Roman the notebook.

“Always, Talyn always.”

It was several pages of people in a different costumes. Talyn's style naturally leaned tended towards Punk, Goth, and other Alternative type styles.

Roman looked through the black and maroon velvet cloaks, Victorian satiny waistcoats, leather pants, and other accessories.

'Am I just that Twitterpated with Virgil to see him everywhere?! I mean let's not kid around he would look sexy in this clothing. '

“Great work TallyKat.” Roman croaked out.

Talyn squinted suspiciously until they saw Joan approach.

“What we looking at?” Joan asked as they sat next to Roman and leaned over to look at the drawings. Roman handed off the sketchbook to them.

“So how did that party go last night?” Joan asked as they thumbed through the pages.

“Remember Virgil?” Roman directed the question toward Joan nodded before they turned to Talyn to clarify.

“He's Prince's partner in Med. Lit.”

“Virgil...Virgil Alexander? ” Talyn asked as they retrieved their sketch pad, their face brightening up with recognition,“You know Anx?”

“Another person called him that in the library today, he wouldn't tell me what it was from.” Roman

“OH it's an old joke from high school.” Talyn continued. “Well sometimes one of us wanted to do stupid things. Like drive donuts in an empty parking lot or eat a mouthful of warhead candies,Virgil would be the one to tell us why it was dangerous. We said he was all of our collective anxiety in human form.”

Roman filled that information away for later.

“So as you were saying...” Joan asked gesturing to Roman.

“We kissed last night...” he whispered excitedly.

“Well that escalated quickly” Joan deadpanned.

“I mean... it was MEANT to throw off his ex...Kinda like in that movie 'To All the Boys I Loved Before'.”

He waited for them to nod before continuing his frantic rant. When they did not he just went ahead and proceeded.

“SPOILER ALERT! For the movie if you've never seen it. I mean you totally should it is such a good flick. I mean everyone who has ever seen a Romcom knows how it would end up anyways. Well in that movie it wasn't her Ex. It was someone that she was trying to trick. Ah! That gives me an idea! Maybe if I offer to make a contract to make his Ex Jealous! Then he could fall in love with me like Lara Jean fell for Peter!

“Don't do that.” Joan commanded in a flat tone with a shake of their head.

“Are you sure? Fake Date is such a classic!” Roman visibly pouted at the rejection of his idea.

“No” both of them said at the same time.

Roman took the list in hand and moved it about while he spoke.

“Ok well I .. I've made this list of things that I know he likes and I can just put them all into a basket! And bring it to him...”

Joan yanked the piece of paper from Roman's waving hands

“How are you going to put 'Probably the entirety of Hot Topic' into a basket exactly?” Joan sardonically asked.

“I don't know, I'll figure something out...like maybe a gift card...a dozen gift cards...what is the highest amount of money you can put on those anyway...?” he took the paper back from Joan and began to write 'Check out gift cards'

“As much as I'm sure he would love to buy out the entire stock of Hot Topic. Princey I've known Anx for years, these big old honking PDAS are going to freak him the fuck out!” Talyn said with an exhausted type of aggravation.

“You guys don't get romance!”

His two non-binary pals shared a look.

Roman ignored them and attempted to continue his frantic writing, but he was stopped in his tracks at the sound of his phone.

-It seems that Virgil had a sketchbook fall out of his bag in your car-Logan

“See this is a sign! Virgil's sketchbook was left behind in my car! This is the second time that he has left something behind for me to gallantly return to him like Prince Charming!” he motioned at his phone with his hand.

Joan took a hold of Roman by the shoulders and looked him in his eyes.

“This is NOT a SIGN. Just give the boy back his stuff without any of your Romany weirdness.”

“But...but if I don't shower him with gifts to let him know that I like him..how...how” Roman excitement deflated like a balloon. He finished the thought in his head

'How am I going to get him to to like me back'

Another chime from his phone pulled at his attention.

-He says he needs it for one of his classes. He wants to know if it is acceptable for him to send his roommate to your location or to meet somewhere in the middle?-Logan

“Well it looks like Logan says he is going to send his roommate out to grab it for him” Roman said as he visibly wilts as he replies that they can meet in the quad.

“I'm sure he knows that you like him. You've always been...wait a sec, you said LOGAN texted you?”

“Yeah why?”

“Shit, are you telling us that you never gave this guy...the guy you're so clearly into...your PHONE NUMBER?!?” Joan asked disbelief increasing with every word.

After a noticeable moment of silence, Roman found his voice.

“oh, i guess I didn't.”

“You are a hopeless idiot here, dude” Talyn added with a head shake.

Roman got done with his drama club and hurried to his car. To his horror he saw the sketchbook had fallen open and varies pages were strewn about.

“NO, No, no, no!”

He was torn between the impulse to grab them quickly without looking to be quick and also to preserve privacy.

But the other part of him that knew that these pages deserved respect and care won the internal argument.

Plus admittedly he really wanted to snoop through the artwork.

So he looked over the art as took page by page and gathered them tenderly.

A few charcoal sketches of local abandoned buildings with gorgeous use of shadows.

Roman's jealousy perked at an unnerving page filled with disembodied hands reaching for the viewer.

He rolled his eyes as he found a page with a picture of Mothman, Slenderman, and an assortment of other cryptids.

'Of course he's into this weird stuff...

His eyes lit up as he saw accurate recreations of the Avatar: The Last Airbender and Steven Universe Cartoon characters, with a sticky note near them saying 'For Emile'.

“Who's Emile?” Roman muttered with a pout.

After he placed the last of the loose pages to a sort of order in the book he closed it. He looked over the cover that had a few more drawings on it as well as stickers for bands.

Roman hugged to his chest and then he ran as quick as his legs could carry him to the quid. He arrived only a slight bit out of breath.

'Man i need to get back to my morning running sessions. If I don't get my endurance up my dancing will suffer.'

He looked around at the area to search out for his target.

A boy sat at a bench, he wore a patterned pastel blue overalls over a pastel purple shirt. As Roman neared him he saw the the shapes were ice cream, hearts, and rainbows.

“Hey?” he approached the boy he hoped was the roommate. “Pat... ton?”

His face was semi-familiar. His big blue eyes were a softer grayish hue than Virgil's deep piercing blue. His smiling face was covered in freckles. Roman wondered how he would describe the color of his puffy hair, it was either a pale brown or a dark blond.

"Yep! So you are my Virgil's new 'friend' huh?!" his cheerful voice asked with the word friend is a tease like giggly way.

“Uh, I hope so?” Roman replied nervously.

“Patton Hartley!” he offered his hand.

“Roman Sanderson, pleased to meet you.” he said as he shuffled the notebook to one arm to shake his hand.

“I really like the pastel getup.” he said with the most genuine tone. He wanted to make sure that he made a good impression on a person who was so important to Virgil.

Even the world's most Emotastic basket wouldn't mean a thing if this boy went to his roommate and said Roman was no good. Patton was the biggest deciding factor, besides Virgil himself, in his ultimate fate.

'Please like me please.'

“Thanks so much! I love your hair! I don't think I could pull it off. I tried a teal a few years ago” Patton said as he looked up to his hair. His gentle smile told Roman that he was not insecure, he just was speaking with he thought was the truth.

“Thank as well. I personally think everyone can 'pull off' fashion colors. It's just finding the color that suits you and wearing it with confidence. And not using a box dye. I think pastel pink would look fantastic on you.” Roman offered as advice before he remembered the object in his hands.

He held the sketchbook out with both hands. “OH here you go, this is what you came all the way out here for!”

“Looks like everything is order.” Patton said as he quickly thumbed through the pages before he put it into a florescent green plastic backpack.

It looked like a giant frog.

'How did I not notice that!'

“So was Virgil busy?” Roman asked casual,before he quickly amended “Not that I'm not happy to meet you of course!”

“AH, I packed his bag this morning so I feel like I'm a bit responsible for this happening.”

“How could you know this would happen?” Roman shrugged.

“Well I didn't. But in a roundabout way it could have been prevented if I hadn't have packed it today. Besides I really really wanted to meet you.

“You did?”

“Wanna take a seat?” Patton offered politely as he placed the froggie at his feet to clear the seat next to him.

“Yeah thanks.” Roman said as he sat down.

“Hey can I ask you a question? I hope you don't feel like this is an insult towards Virgil. But what is his deal?” he asked in part aggravation and part confusion.

“Ah, you talking about how he's not the friendliest kitten in the clowder? ” Patton offered as a comparison. “At least when you began court him?

'He said court! I really like this guy.'

“Yeah, That! We were getting along fine, maybe a BIT of playful banter, but at worse it that was just light teasing. But it changed like a switch was flipped or something when I asked if he wanted to go to that party with me.” Roman asked face pinched as he remembered Virgil's change in demeanour. “All of a sudden it was as if I had asked if he wanted to be set on fire!”

“Well, he really thinks you're flirting with him as some sort of game” Patton said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Why would he think that! ”

“I'm not really sure what would make him think of that in class, I wasn't there. But you seemed to be flirting with quite a few guys at the party.” Patton stated with a sigh “Aaaannnd he did see that...”

A blush grew over Roman's tan skin as he remembered his brief playful trifling.

'Virgil was watching that? Yikes, no wonder he thinks so lowly of me. I would never have done all of that if he had accepted my date offer. I am a One Man Man.'

“And... the other thing is, it may have reminded him of his Ex...um you see Jae, he was always flirting with everyone around him. Mostly to charm people to get them on his side, but it hurt Virgil you see. He would ask him to stop, but Jae either ignore him to tell him he was being too emotionally fragile.”

Patton took breath and then continued.

“But then when it seemed like Virgil was close to ending it he would stop his flirtations with others and focus all of his attention on Virgil. They almost broke up dozens of times over the course of their time together. The whole back and forth really made it hard on Virgil.”

“SO this Ex of his toyed with his affections! How dare he tell Virgil he cared too much! I can't believe it!”

“That is some manipulative bull! I swear people who string others along instead of just letting them go are the worst. I've had a few exs like that.”

Patton nodded..

“That Ex! Sounds like a real piece of work, ” Roman chuckled a tiny bit as he failed to notice the uncomfortable look beginning to show on Patton's face, “If Virgil's was so frightened that the sight of him made him flee. Like he MUST be some stupid dirty, rotten, filthy silly billy, no good for nothing...”

“Uh,” Patton attempted to break into the rant.

“Rat scoundrel b-”

“He's my brother!” Patton hastily shouted.

'Oh Shit'

Roman cringed as Patton admitted the full truth of the situation.

“Wait what? I'm so sorry!”

“It's ok. You didn't mean to be mean.” Patton said

“Wait so how does that work? You're friends with your brothers ex? ”

“Nothing will stop me from being friends with Virgil. Nothing.” Patton stated as serious as Roman had seen him so far.

“Wow, um must make Thanksgiving Dinner's more awkward than normal, huh?” Roman chuckled nervously.

“Jae doesn't believe in Thanksgiving. He says that 'Thanksgiving is colonizer propaganda that is just a waste of food.' He doesn't really do holidays... besides birthdays. Well actually he does HIS birthday, and sometimes mine. If only a little bit. His plans for Virgil's birthday always ended up getting cancelled.”

“'So sorry my Nightbird, I swear I thought the museum would be open today'” he did a mock of what Roman presumed was his brother. While doing so his voice gained a sort of smoother quality of speaking. A bit more emphasis of the S sounds.

'Sounds like a snake'

“Sounds like a...like he's very unique person” Roman offered as a neutral statement. “And a very complicated relationship.”

“It sure is....SO are you really truly interested in my pal?” Patton asked.

“Yes. I absolutely am.” Roman said with an excitement that he apparently had made a good impression.

“Just call me Cupid!” Patton said as he did a big hand gesture pointing toward his chest with his thumb “I'll put in a good word for you.”

“I can tell you're really a sweet guy, but still why do this for someone you just met?” Roman questioned face full of confusion.

“I think you'd be a good HONEST boyfriend for my gloomy goober.” Patton smiled at him, “I'm a great judge of character, I've had to learn believe you me. Plus don't let him know it was me that told you this, but the way he looks when he talks about you... well it's just like nothing I've ever seen. I really think he's got a thing for you!”

“Really?” Roman felt uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

“Yeppers, I know my best friend” Patton giggled like they had made a secret pact.

“Thanks”

“Although if my instincts are wrong, I will physically fight you.” Patton suddenly said in a serious tone.

“Really?”

“Yep! If I could fight my own brother, I can fight you” Patton said switching back to cheerful. “Understand?”

The way that he said it so matter of fact and cheerfully made Roman uneasy, almost like those haunted dolls in scary movies. The opposition between his soft disposition and the protective strength in his voice was just scary enough that Roman just nodded

“GOOD!” he clapped his hands and then leap up off of the seat. “I know your Instagram and I'll DM you there to trade info.”

“How do you...?” Roman got momentarily frightened at the thought that Patton had cyber stalked him for his social media info.

“You shouted it out at the party?” Patton smiled as he slung the straps of over his shoulders.

“Oh right...ha” Roman gave a nervous chuckle.

“Well, I've got to go now! Tell your brother that Patton says hi, k? ” he said with a wink he walked away until the bouncing frog disappeared from Roman's line of sight.

Upon Roman's arrived at home he restlessly waited for his brother's arrival.

When he heard a turn of keys at the front door he was there as fast as a bolt of lightning.

“You know Virgil's roommate!” Roman shouted as he ambushed Logan as he walked through the door.

“Oh Shit!” Logan cursed as he fell over.

Chapter 4

~ TAGLIST!!! @tatehoseok @love-is-the-fear-of-loss @misslilidelaney @ishoulddyemyhairthatcolour @dwbh888 @violetshovel @sadgayisme

#say amen fanfic #prinxiety fanfic #prinxiety

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