#feel like mr darcy the way i felt like i needed to flex my hand after barely brushing fingers

[walking-loather]

"their hands brushed as she handed over—" blah blah whatever do u know how HARD that shit is to manufacture???? To authentically brush hands or what the fuck????

[jooniez]

I can’t believe I only just read pride & prejudice pls 😳

[jaskierswolf]

Dearest Wolfie, I am here to humbly request some Jaskilion vampire smut pls 🥺

Dear Buttercup

Prompt: Frottage/grinding/scissoring Relationships:  Jaskier (netflix)/Dandelion (book) Rating: E Content Warnings: vampire sex, sex magic, frottage, biting, blood drinking. Summary: Jaskier gets caught in a thunderstorm, luckily there's an appropriately spooky house near by to shelter in.

For my darling @dani-dandelino and also my last prompt for @witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

Art by @dapandapod

Lightning shot across the sky in a vicious streak of blinding light, and there was a resounding clap of thunder that made the ground shake. Jaskier’s hair was stuck to his forehead as he tried, with very little success, to shelter under his guitar case. He blamed Geralt for this entirely. The bastard had gotten into another fight with Yennefer and Jaskier was left to find his own way home from the pub. He wasn’t drunk, just mildly tipsy and sorely lacking a driving license. It had been too late to catch a bus so here he was stomping through the park in the middle of the night, during a fucking thunderstorm. The old house in the centre of the park looked like something out of those stupid horror movies that Geralt and Yennefer liked to watch. It looked haunted during the day, but at night… fuck. It was something else entirely.

So naturally, Jaskier wanted to have a look. He was soaked through to the skin and shivering. His house was still a good hour away if he didn’t get lost, which, if he was being completely honest, he probably would. Directions just weren’t his strong suit, and everything looked the same at night. The house, despite scaring the shit out of him, looked incredibly tempting. It would be warm. He could dry off. Maybe the owner would even let him stay the night, if they were kind.

And if he was really lucky, they might not kill him.

He laughed and he wiped his nose, pushing his sopping wet hair off his forehead and away from his eyes. His fringe immediately fell forward again.

“Oh fuck off,” he muttered and shook his head, wrapping his arms around his chest in a futile attempt to stay warm. “Stupid Geralt, stupid Yennefer, bloody fucking thunderstorm.”

The large wooden doors creaked open, startling Jaskier from his pity party. There was candlelight flickering in the hallway and the sound of a violin singing from somewhere in the house. Jaskier crept forward, cocking his head as he peered inside. The house was extravagantly decorated in burgundy and gold. From the porch, Jaskier could see a faded painting of a young man, dressed in old-timey clothing, regency if he had to guess. It was rather Mr Darcy. The young man was tall and slender, with a mess of golden curls that just about covered his ears. Jaskier couldn’t look away. The man was beautiful, with soft pale skin and rosy cheeks, a smile that could outshine the sun. He had a long dark blue tailcoat, and there was a small white dog bouncing at his feet.

But it was his eyes.

Beautiful cornflower blue.

Utterly stunning.

The door slammed shut behind Jaskier and he spun round, arms flailing, “Oh cock!”

The sound of the violin stopped. The house fell eerily silent. Jaskier could hear his own heartbeat hammering in his chest and he pulled at the edges of this shirt, flexing his fingers and tapping out a rhythm on his leg. Nothing helped. He was pretty certain he was about to die. The worst thing was he couldn’t even remember entering the house. One minute he was admiring the portrait from afar and the next he had his hand raised, ready to trace the sharp cheekbones of the handsome blond.

“I haven’t had a visitor for a long time,” a mesmerising tenor voice lilted from the top of the stairs.

Jaskier jumped, almost falling over as he twirled again to face the mysterious owner of the murder house. His mouth fell open as he saw the beautiful blond at the top of the stairs. His skin was deathly pale, and his hair now fell to his shoulders in a cascade of curls, but there was no denying that it was the same man from the portrait. Blood red eyes glowed in the darkness, never blinking as he peered down at Jaskier with a haughty expression. Gone were the elegant regency clothes from the portrait. Instead, the blond wore an unreasonably sexy lingerie set, black as the midnight sky, with garters strapped around his thighs. On each thigh above the garter was a holster, with an elegantly decorated hilt; daggers.

Seriously, who the fuck carried daggers in this day and age? Surely you needed a license for that?

But on the mysterious stranger it just seemed to work. He was timeless in his beauty.

The fine silvery silk robe trailed behind him, and he raised one perfect eyebrow, looking considerably unimpressed. Jaskier’s eyes widened as he realised he still hadn’t said anything, too busy gawking at the angel before him…

Or perhaps the devil.

There was no way this gorgeous creature was a man from god. He was too sinfully tempting.

“Ah, bollocks,” Jaskier stammered. “Well, you see I just- there was a teeny problem with my ride, and then the storm, and well… the wine. Oh the wine, it was absolutely delectable, you have never tasted anything as delicious, a true blessing from the gods themselves.”

He was rambling. He knew he was and yet he couldn’t shut up. Jaskier just kept talking, letting his wine fuelled brain spew poetry about everything and nothing. He talked about Geralt, the flowers he’d seen on his walk, the stars that had been glittering in the sky before the clouds had ruined the view. He talked about the way the river shone in the moonlight, and Geralt, and the cute adorable kitten he’d seen sheltering in an alley… and well… about Geralt.

“Forgive me, dear fellow,” The man finally interrupted with a wave of his hand, “but if you are quite done, I’d like to ask what you are doing in my home.”

Jaskier blushed, glancing between the very much shut door and the handsome figure before him. Gesturing wildly between himself and the door he stammered, “The door? It- it- ah, well, it just sort of opened.”

“And you walked in? I must say, you really have no sense of self preservation. Pretty little thing though, aren’t you?”

Jaskier scoffed, putting his hand on his hips. “Little?!”

“How old are you? Barely twenty by the looks of it,” he smirked, a long finger brushing Jaskier’s cheek. “So young.”

“I- I-!” Jaskier spat out, “You! I’m twenty five!”

“A child,” the man hissed.

And Jaskier’s heart jumped. He froze, an icy feeling creeping through his veins.

Fangs.

Red eyes.

Definitely immortal.

“Oh fuck, fuck!” Jaskier fell backwards, tripping over his own feet. “You’re a vampire! No. No, no, no. This is a joke. Fuck!”

“Vampire,” the vampire scoffed. “How rude! I have a name, buttercup.”

“I- how- oh cock,” Jaskier whined.

But before he could flee, the vampire’s hands were around his neck. The bastard moved faster than light. His pale skin a blur as it pressed against Jaskier’s throat, lifting him from the floor.

And Jaskier, in all his idiotic horniness, was starting to feel rather aroused by the whole thing. Sure, he was scared shitless, but if the vampire didn’t kill him…

Well…

Jaskier really hated his dick sometimes.

“So, ah- umm, will you do me the pleasure of telling me your name?” Jaskier squeaked, gasping for air.

The vampire chuckled, a beautiful melodic laugh that could charm aphrodite herself. “Finally, some manners, darling. My name is Dandelion, you would do well to remember it.”

That was… promising.

“A flower for a flower?” Jaskier suggested, praying that this would not be his last night on earth. “Please don’t kill me.”

“Oh, my dear Julian, I have no intention of killing you. Contrary to popular belief, I am not a monster, unlike the villain that turned me. Now, he was an utter cock. He didn’t even ask! Day before my wedding, unbelievable.”

Jaskier laughed. Was the vampire, Dandelion, actually telling him his backstory? What the fuck had he walked into?

“That’s… unfortunate?”

“It was a complete disaster, my darling Henrietta married the deplorable Valdo Marx instead and I had to flee to the shadows like some bloody monster. It gets lonely.”

Jaskier blinked, feet still dangling as the vampire held him by his collar. He was struggling to breathe, his cock was hard in his pants and he was almost certain that he probably would survive the night. “Can’t- breathe.”

“Oh, poppycock! I am ever so sorry, dear boy,” Dandelion cooed and dropped Jaskier to the ground. “Better?”

“Yeah, yup.”

Dandelion inhaled deeply, “Oh, you do smell good, really good.”

This felt more like what Jaskier would expect from a vampire encounter. Before he could even respond, Jaskier felt himself being thrown back against the nearest wall, Dandelion’s cold body pressed up against his. The vampire ran his nose under Jaskier’s jaw, a low moan falling from his lips. “Talk about fine wine. You, my dear buttercup, smell utterly irresistible.”

Jaskier whimpered, his hands nervously gripping Dandelion’s silk robe, fingers intertwining in the soft fabric. He wasn’t really sure what was happening but he knew he liked it. Getting fucked by a vampire, there were worse things in life, especially when the vampire was as pretty as Dandelion. Jaskier wondered whether his eyes really had been such a dazzling blue before he was turned into a creature of the night. Red eyes burned like fire instead, the pupils almost completely black.

It should have been fucking terrifying.

It should have.

And Jaskier thought he’d never seen such a beautiful creature as the man before him. There was a scrape of teeth against his throat, and Jaskier groaned, helplessly baring his neck to give the vampire better access. He’d never thought getting his blood drained would be so alluring, but he was achingly hard and feeling heady with arousal at the mere thought of it.

The vampire just laughed and pressed a skin to Jaskier’s neck. “Eager little whore, aren’t you?”

“Shut up.”

“Now, now, patience,” Dandelion purred, making Jaskier shiver. “First we need to get you out of those clothes. You must be absolutely freezing, where are my manners?”

“Fuck your manners,” Jaskier grumbled, yelping as Dandelion scooped him into his arms and flew through the house. “Oi! Watch it!”

“Such a fragile little flower.”

“I- You, oh fuck off,” Jaskier protested weakly, because to Dandelion, he was fragile. He was human, mortal, weak. Despite looking like the stronger one of the two, Jaskier was like a glass rose compared to the glimmering diamond that was the vampire.

Dandelion fussed around him in a blur of silver and blonde, peeling Jaskier’s wet clothes from his skin, bringing him a steaming mug of sweet tea. It was all… kind of nice?

The vampire had said he was lonely after all, and maybe Jaskier’s blood would taste nicer if he was not miserable and cold. How was he supposed to know?

“Dandelion?” Jaskier asked, cocking his head as he looked up at the pretty blond from the pile of soft silk sheets on the bed.

“Yes? Did I miss anything? It’s been a while since I’ve had human company.”

Jaskier couldn’t help but smile. He’d been in the strange house less than any hour and yet his head was spinning from the rollercoaster of emotions, fear, arousal, panic, and now whatever this was, a sort of fondness perhaps?

“Everything is perfect, Dandelion, but why- why am I here? I thought… you’re a vampire. I smell good? Didn’t you want to- to-, you know?”

Dandelion giggled and perched on the bed next to Jaskier. “Sweet buttercup, I would never drink from you unless you wanted it. It’s not expected of you. I can go without.”

“You can?”

“But of course! And I’m not about to fuck you when you’re shivering, and reeking of fear, no matter how hard your cock is. I have standards, Jaskier.”

The vampire had standards. Of course he fucking did. “I’m not afraid now,” Jaskier whispered, “And I want you to drink. Come on, trapped-”

“You’re not trapped.”

“- in a vampire’s house, in the middle of a thunderstorm. It practically writes itself.”

“And yet, I made you tea?”

Jaskier laughed, “Yes.”

“Well then?” Dandelion breathed in a soft low whisper that made Jaskier’s skin tingle, “Perhaps a kiss?”

This time it wasn’t Dandelion’s hands that forced that air from Jaskier’s lungs, but his words. Jaskier swallowed, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth as Dandelion approached him. The daggers had been removed from their holsters and set aside on the table, but the rest of the vampire’s ensemble remained. Jaskier, on the other hand, was as naked as the day he was born, only the silken sheets to protect his modesty. His cheeks warmed under the heat of Dandelion’s gaze, a blush that he was sure bloomed right down to his heart. He nodded dumbly, unable, for the first time in his life, to find the right words.

Dandelion’s skin was like ice as he cupped Jaskier’s cheek, their lips barely a breath apart. “You really are such a pretty flower, I love beautiful things.”

Jaskier whimpered as their lips met, ice and fire, vampire and human. Their breaths mingled as Jaskier eagerly parted his lips, and Dandelion’s tongue slipped inside his mouth. Jaskier had kissed a lot of people in his life but never anyone quite like Dandelion, centuries of practice served the vampire well, and Jaskier was left breathless and panting in mere seconds. His arousal from before reared up and he moaned wantonly against Dandelion’s lips.

“Divine,” the vampire murmured as they parted, and he pushed Jaskier backwards against the bed, their legs entangling so that Dandelion’s thighs pressed against Jaskier’s cock, “simply divine.”

“Dandelion,” Jaskier moaned, his head falling back onto the pillow.

“My venom won’t harm you, darling,” Dandelion whispered, his lips pressing against Jaskier’s neck, “but it will enhance your pleasure, dull your other senses so you know only me, my lips, my hands. You’ll be more relaxed than you ever thought possible…”

“Yes,” Jaskier answered Dandelion’s unanswered question.

The vampire sank his teeth into Jaskier’s skin, sharp pain soon subsiding into what could only be described as the most intense pleasure that Jaskier had ever felt. It was heavenly, magical, a blessing from god herself. He vaguely heard himself moan, arching his back off the bed as he thrust against Dandelion’s thigh. Every movement sent wave after wave of never-ending pleasure through his body, fire burning in his soul. He whined when Dandelion pulled away from his neck, rocking into Jaskier’s body, unheard praises whispering into his ear. When their lips met once more, Jaskier could taste his blood on Dandelion’s tongue.

It was addictive. He wanted more, more, more. “‘Lion,” he slurred as their bodies rocked together.

“Shh, little buttercup,” the vampire cooed, brushing Jaskier’s fringe from his eyes, before biting once more on his shoulder.

Jaskier keened, his orgasm shattering through him as he bucked up against the vampire. It seemed to be an eternity before he came back to himself, covered in cum and his own blood on Dandelion’s bed. The vampire in question was running his fingers through the thick hair on Jaskier’s chest, blood staining his lips, smearing down his chin. He looked as fucked out as Jaskier felt, smiling serenely as he hummed under his bed.

And his eyes were cornflower blue.

“Fuck,” Jaskier breathed shakily. “Did you…”

“Mhmm, not long after you. What a sight you made, truly stunning? I really would love to paint you one day.”

Jaskier groaned and rolled over, grimacing at the mess but too tired to care. “If the sex is that good, you can paint me every fucking day.”

“Oh, darling buttercup,” Dandelion cooed, pressing a kiss to Jaskier’s shoulder where the bite mark was beginning to heal. “You and I are going to get along splendidly.”

[vanillapie-80]

The Road To Recovery Chapter 1: Sticks and Stones Shall Break My Bones

What if Steve found out about Jim’s secret life about magic and trolls differently, and became a part of his team? But in the worst way possible.

AO3

Steve repeatedly tapped both ends of the pencil he was holding onto the desk, his boredom consuming him more and more as the class continued. The words coming out of the teacher’s mouth would quickly be a distant memory from the bully. Steve glanced at the classroom, some students were as bored as him, while others had their complete focus on the subject. 

One student, in particular, caught his interest; Jim Lake Jr. was staring with an intense distaste at the paper at his desk, presumably where he was taking notes. The bully saw how Lake's eyes fluttered and how his head slowly moved back and forth. Steve chuckled and watched in amusement as Lake dozed off and had his face slam headfirst onto the desk. 

The whole classroom turned their attention to Lake, including the teacher, and laughed as he quickly woke and sat up straight. 

Mrs. Janet, clearly not happy, spoke. “Mr. Lake, do you know how many times you’ve disrupted my class over the current school year?” 

Lake turned red from embarrassment, avoiding eye contact from anyone in the room. “Uhh, I don’t kno-”

“Too many, I’ve tried my best to excuse it, but frankly I can no longer do that. After school, you shall serve two hours of detention.” 

Steve was surprised that Lake didn’t do anything to defend himself, he simply sighed and rubbed his face in frustration. As if the student sitting across the classroom didn’t have any fight in him. It was only when the class was over that Steve realized that he’d have to be stuck with Lake for two hours since he was given detention as well.

Throughout the school period, Steve silently dreaded the thought of going to detention, but it wasn't as if he could skip it without getting into more trouble than he already was in. 

When the school was over, the bully made his way to Mr. Uhl’s class. There were a few students already inside, but Lake was yet to appear. Steve mindlessly took a seat and began doing some homework that he was behind. It only took a few minutes for Lake to show up. He just quickly walked around the classroom and sat right behind Steve. 

“Great.” He thought bitterly. 

Out of all the desks Lake could’ve chosen, he chose that one. It’s as if he wanted to annoy Steve. The bully now had an anxious feeling that Lake was being nosey and glancing at his work. This caused Steve to sometimes turn around behind him in a way that didn’t seem suspicious, but he only saw Lake just minding his own business and reading a book. At some point, Lake stopped what he was doing and ended up falling asleep. 

As time passed by, Steve could hear the student behind him mumbling in his sleep, but they were too quiet and incoherent to understand. Those two hours felt it was longer than he needed to be, and you can imagine the sense of relief Steve had when it was time for Lake to leave. 

But Lake never left his seat. When Senior Uhl left the classroom to take a phone call, Steve turned behind him just to see his classmate still asleep. Lake’s shoulders were tense and his hands gripped the fabric of his sweater, but Steve didn’t pay attention to those details. He simply groaned in annoyance. If Lake was going to take a nap in detention, at the very least he could've set an alarm on his phone for safe measures. 

Steve leaned onto his chair and shook Lake by the arm, maybe a little too rough. “Hey, wake up Lake.” 

What happened next was just too fast to process for Steve. The sleeping student jolted awake, and instinctively grabbed and pulled Steve by the arm, making him topple over his chair. The bully felt a sharp pain in his hand and Lake twisted it. The students watched in surprise and curiosity as they quickly tried to take their cameras out but by the time they did, Jim let go of Steve’s hand. 

“Aurgghh!” The bully rubbed his presumed injured hand and shouted, “What the hell Lake?!”, angrily.  

The smaller student looked at Steve like a deer in headlights. Lake had his hand covering his mouth as he nervously glanced at the students staring at the two of them while whispering to each other. The sound of Senior Uhl slamming the door open made everyone in the room jump.

“I heard a noise. What happened?” He asked while looking at both Lake and Steve for answers.

“Fell off my chair and hurt my hand. Lake tried to help me get up but grabbed my bad hand by accident and I shouted.” Steve responded, much to the surprise of Lake and the students. However, the bully rationalized this “act of kindness” as something he could use to his advantage. If Lake was giving him trouble, Steve could threaten him by telling the teachers what really happened today, simple as that. 

“Very well.” Senior Uhl muttered. “Mr. Lake, your two hours are up, you are free to leave.”

Lake quickly said “thank you”, grabbed his bag, and ran out of the classroom. Steve glanced down at his hand and flexed it, only to feel a sharp pain once again. He’d have to go to the doctor after this.

In a small town like Arcadia, rumors and gossip spread fast like wildfire. Which is why Jim wasn’t surprised at the many stares and glances he got from students. The trollhunter sighed as he made his way to his locker, where he was greeted by Toby and Claire.

“So, I heard you tried to break Steve’s hand.” His best friend remarked, mostly as a joke. But Jim only banged his head onto his locker’s door, sighing once again. “C’mon now Jimbo, we both know you wouldn’t hurt anyone here.” 

“But it is a rumor that’s going around about that,” Claire interjected. “Maybe I can ask Mary and Darci for help, or-”

“No.” Toby and Claire looked at Jim in shock. “It might make things worse like I’m trying to make myself look better or something.” 

Claire gave Toby a look and gestured at Jim. “What did you do exactly?” He asked while moving in front of Jim. 

“During detention, I thought it’d be fine if I just took a quick nap while I was there. Then Steve woke me up for some reason and, ugh, I don’t know, I just freaked out.” The trollhunter explained, tightening his grip on his bag’s strap.

“Well, you did just come back from the Darklands, so maybe your mind is still on alert for any danger,” Claire suggested.

“Either way, it’s not like Steve didn’t have that coming,” Toby added.

“Toby!” 

“What? I’m just saying Claire, he has always been a jerk, so karma has to come knocking on his door a few times.” Toby explained. “And besides, this isn’t exactly the first time Jim had a physical scuffle with Steve.”

“But that was different.” The trollhunter thought to himself. Jim punched Steve in self-defense. What he did yesterday was uncalled for, Steve didn’t do anything that justified what Jim did. 

The school bell suddenly rang, and Jim made his way to his next class alongside Toby. Meanwhile, Claire left for a different class. Coincidently, Steve was in her class, and Claire thought that this could be an opportunity. 

“Hi Steve.” She greeted, sitting next to him.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, obviously confused as to why Claire decided to sit beside him. “Is this about yesterday with Lake?” 

Claire shrugged in response. “Kind of. How’s your hand?”

The bully glanced at it for a moment. “It’s not broken that’s for sure, just sprained.” He said, “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Claire hummed in response before asking, “You know Jim feels bad about it, right?” 

Steve scoffed at the notion. “He should be, Lake could’ve easily broken my hand.” Claire grimaced at that response. “But that doesn’t matter now, does it? Jim “Goodie Two Shoes” Lake walks away scot-free.” He muttered sarcastically, making a small jazz hand gesture as well. 

“But you could’ve told the truth and Jim would have gotten in trouble, but you didn’t. Why?” 

Steve stayed silent for a moment before he spat out, “How about you leave me alone and mind your own business?”, with a harsh tone before ignoring Claire for the rest of the class. 

The student sitting next to him stared in disbelief, wanting to add her own two-sense to Steve’s remark, but she held back. He was right to a certain degree. This situation was strictly between Jim and Steve, so there was no reason for her to bud in. 

A few days later…

It was lunchtime, and the trollhunter used this period as a way to get some time for himself. Yes, he would always enjoy Toby and Claire’s company no matter what, but something Jim just needed some time for himself. So he sat on the school porch alone while he ate his lunch, enjoying the cool breeze and the sunlight hitting his face. Just when the trollhunter finished his meal when the school bell rang. Quickly, Jim raced through the halls to make it to his next class which was history. 

During the middle of Coach Lawrence’s lectures, Jim felt a sharp pain on the right side of his abdomen. When he looked down, the trollhunter saw that his blue sweater was slowly being tainted by crimson red. Jim cursed to himself. A little while ago, Jim had gotten into a nasty fight with a rogue troll. In the end, he was victorious as always, but the trollhunter suffered some major injuries. Jim thought he did a good job treating them but apparently not. 

So he raised his hand  and asked, “Coach Lawrence, can I go to the bathroom?” 

The P.E. teacher shrugged. “Alright, you can go Lake. Just make it quick.” 

The trollhunter knew that this wasn’t going to be “quick”, but Coach Lawrence was one of the more forgiving and kind teachers in the school, so he felt like there was nothing to worry about in terms of suspicion. 

He raced towards the boy’s gym locker room, it was always mostly empty and was very easy to hide if someone walked inside. Jim sat on one of the benches and took out a small first aid kit from his bag. The trollhunter unzipped his sweater and lifted his shirt, revealing the bloody gauze that was wrapped around Jim’s abdomen. As he unwrapped it, it showed a deep laceration that seeped quite a lot of blood out. The trollhunter groaned as he saw that the stitches he had made for the wound had become undone. Jim tossed the used gauze aside and opened the first aid kit. He couldn’t redo the stitches right now, as it would take too long to finish, so the trollhunter just put fresh new gauze on his abdomen. Jim was too focused to notice Steve entering the locker room, or even hear him enter.

Once the bully noticed Jim, he looked at his classmate with a disturbed expression. “Lake?” 

Jim froze at the sound of Steve’s voice, and he felt a sense of dread shivering through his body.

The trollhunter tried to cover his injury but Steve had become curious. “Jeez! what happened? Did someone stab you with a knife or something?” He asked, lifted Jim’s arm to get a good look at the trollhunter’s stomach.

Jim immediately pushed Steve aside and shouted “None of your business! And what are you doing here!” 

“I just finished soccer practice, my team plays on the field every Friday. And you’re not exactly trying to be discreet.” The bully explained, crossing his arms as he begrudgingly maintains his distance with Jim. “Are you a member of a cult? Oh shit! You’re not gonna kill me now that I know your secret are you?”

“What?! No, I’m- Aurggh!” The trollhunter bent down as pain from his injuries spiked. “I’m not in a cult.” He muttered.

“Then what’s up with you Lake?! First, you attack me at detention, and now this.” Steve asked as he gestured to the person in front of him.

“I didn’t mean to attack you. I was just having a bad dream.”

“Must’ve been one hell of a nightmare. Well if you aren’t in a cult, then what is it?” As Steve continued to question Jim, he could see the panic look in the trollhunter’s eyes, but tried to keep a calm attitude. 

“Like I said it’s none of your business,” Jim remarked.

Steve tightened his hand into a fist and approached Jim and got really close to him, the two of them staring intensely at each other. “Either you tell or do I have to beat out of you.”

Both of them knew that Jim wasn’t capable of fighting back well, and the trollhunter at this point couldn’t take another beating, even if it was from Steve. He looked away from the bully in defeat, with Steve smirking in response.

“Well? What is it?”

Jim tried thinking about a lie that would satisfy Steve. Being mugged wouldn’t make much sense, and any other excuse he thought of just sounded ridiculous. Until he thought of one that seemed pretty much perfect. 

“I...I’m getting paid to fight others in the street.” He said.

Steve looked at Jim suspiciously before asking, “Like a fight club?” 

The trollhunter shrugged without a care. “I guess.” 

There was a silent pause before the bully said, “Why the hell are you in a fight club then?”

Jim pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. “I’m just a little tight on money alright? Nothing deep about my reasoning. Now, if you can do me favor and keep watch? I have to finish this.”

“God, you’re so weird Lake,” Steve commented, but the trollhunter didn’t bother to respond back with his own remark.

As Jim continued to treat his injuries, Steve glanced at the locker room’s hallways to see if anyone would be coming in their direction. Occasionally, the bully looked back at the trollhunter and would see the many scars that were on Jim’s body. It felt so out of place for Steve to see that. Jim was always one who wouldn’t hurt a fly and avoided a fight until now he supposed.

Once Jim was done, he put his shirt and sweater back on, while also putting his first aid kit back in his bag. The trollhunter got up and looked at Steve, wondering if he should thank him.

“Hey, I really am sorry about your hand. The last thing I want to do is hurt someone that doesn’t deserve it.” He muttered, eyes glued to the ground. “And please keep this,” Jim gestured to himself, “between you and me. If anyone found out, we’ll both be in serious trouble.” 

What the troll hunter said startled Steve a bit, but why should he be scared? He’s Steve Palchuck, he wasn’t scared of anything. The bully simply scoffed and remarked, “Fine,I’ll keep your stupid secret between us.” before leaving.

Jim hoped Steve kept his word, he couldn’t afford to lie to anyone else. It was starting to get exhausting. 

A week later…

It was a Saturday, and Jim managed to get himself into detention again. This time it wasn’t his fault, or alone either. Last night a couple of gnomes went joyriding in Senior Uhl’s truck because why not? The police came before the trollhunter and his friends could flee the scene. Of course, they had to take the blame, but instead of getting arrested, Senior Uhl decided that they should serve detention the next day. 

Jim stared outside of the car window and his mother was scolding him and Toby for “stealing” their teacher’s car. “You know, girls don’t always fall for the bad boys, Jim. Sometimes, they appreciate chivalry.” She said. 

The trollhunter held back the urge to laugh, and simply responded with, “Uh, thanks for the dating advice Mom, and this won’t happen again, right Tobes?”

“Oh yeah, I rather not add anything else to our criminal records.” Toby added, poking his head out to the backseat and Barbara chuckled in response. 

Jim and Toby gave the motherly doctor their goodbyes before leaving the car. The two walked on towards the school’s entrance as Claire waited for them there, while two other students, Shannon and Eli, followed behind. 

“Are you ready to get this over with?” Claire said as she joined with the duo. 

“I don’t know Claire, maybe this could be a good thing. We’re a school so the possibility of us being in danger is almost nonexistent. Think of it as a fun little vacation.” The trollhunter suggested, then laughed at the thought of it. 

 Then the trio heard a small commotion coming from the distance. They turned to the source and saw Steve getting out of Coach Lawrence’s car. The two seemed to be talking but they were too far for the trio to hear. 

“Huh, is that Coach dropping off Steve?” Claire asked, turning her back on the other student.

“Great. Vacation canceled.” Toby remarked, rolling his eyes. 

“Hey now, all you have to do is ignore him and you’ll be fine Tobes.” Jim reassured with a nervous smile.

Claire and Toby looked at the troll hunter curiously. “Since when did you become an optimist?” His best friend wondered.

“When detention became a regular occurrence for me apparently. And besides, we’ve dealt with Steve being in our class before. What makes this any different?”

When the students went to the classroom, Senior Uhl confiscated their phones, much to Mary’s dismay. Toby then decided to take out a Diablo Maximus Breakfast Burrito he bought earlier, despite Jim’s silent gestures to not do that. As the trollhunter suspected, Senior Uhl confiscated that too the moment he saw it, but Toby didn’t seem too bothered by it, which seemed weird to Jim, since it was Toby’s favorite burrito, but decided to ignore it.

After a few minutes, Claire quietly spoke up to both of the boys. “You know Jim, you might be right about us deserving a break, but I can’t help but feel guilty knowing that Gunmar might be out there.” 

Oh right. The trollhunter cringed at that reminder. “Listen, Blinky and Aaarrrgghh are looking into it. Without proof that Gunmar escaped out of the Darklands, there’s no reason for Trollmarket to panic.” He whispered. 

Then Jim saw Senior Uhl decided to eat Toby’s burrito, muttering that “It can’t be that spicy.” 

The trollhunter anxiously looked at his friend and asked, “Tobes, shouldn’t you tell Senior Uhl that it’s a bad idea to eat your burrito?” He never ate it himself, but Jim saw the effect it had on someone, which…… wasn’t pleasant to see or hear. 

“I would, but you know how Senior Uhl listens to his student. Which is not at all.” Toby said with a shrug.

Jim looked at his friend in disbelief. He wasn’t wrong, but Toby was acting way too calm for his comfort. As if he was planning for this to happen.

“Wait a minute.” 

What happened next was what Jim and Toby expected. Senior Uhl rushed to the restroom, and the two knew that he wasn’t coming back for a good while. 

Everyone stayed in their seat for a few minutes, with the trollhunter eyeing his friend suspiciously while Toby smiled back in response. Steve was the first one to leave his desk. 

“Where are you going?” Claire asked.

“I’m going to see where Senior Uhl went. Is that a problem?

“Not at all.” She said back.

Jim left his desk as well and stopped Steve before he could open the door. “Don’t bother. It’s not something you want to hear, trust me.” 

The bully rolled his eyes and opened the door anyway. The trollhunter cringed at the sounds he could now hear. When Steve turned to look at him, his face filled with regret, Jim gave him an “I told you so” look.

“It’s like a broken yogurt machine.” Claire commented, now out of her desk as she stuck head out of the door.

“Ew, it sounds like lasagna getting shot out of a T-shirt cannon.” Mary added while making a face.

“Not helping.” Jim thought as he tried to banish the mental images those comments gave him.

“That burrito had three ghost peppers in it. Too much spice for his delicate Austrian taste.” Toby explained, ignoring the glare Jim was giving him.

“He could be there all day.” Claire stated.

“That indeed.” Toby went back inside while the other students glanced at him in confusion, except for Jim.

“You knew that would happen Tobes, didn’t you?”

“I cannot confirm or deny that statement. But we could use this to our advantage.” The chubby teen suggested with a mischievous smile.

“How?” Shannon asked.

“Well I’d rather keep that a surprise, so just stay here for a while until Mary and I can get our getaway driver.” Jim was surprised to hear that Mary was in on this. 

The supposed queen bee of the group lit up in excitement and walked outside of the classroom with Toby. As the other students waited, Jim sat on top of one of the desks, watching his legs lazily swinging up and down. His mind drifting to an endless void of muted thoughts.

“I didn’t know Domzalski was a troublemaker.” Jim looked up and saw Steve standing right in front of him, his arms crossed.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about him.” The trollhunter said.

The bully stayed silent for a moment before muttering, “How’s the, you know.” He tried to discreetly point towards the trollhunter’s injury he saw a week ago.

“It still hurts, but the stitches are holding up nicely.” Steve couldn’t understand why hearing Jim saying that so calmly made him uneasy.

“So what happened, did you trip and fall in a shard of glass or something?” 

The trollhunter let out a sarcastic laugh while forcing a smile on his face. “Oh I wish that was the case, but no. I got stabbed by someone during a fight.” 

“Must have been one hell of a fight.” Jim felt a tingling feeling in his hands the moment Steve spoke. 

“Yeah.... It was.” When the blonde bully turned his attention away from Jim, he quickly glanced at his hands, but the brief memory of blood, his blood, covering the entirety of his palms made him close his eyes shut. Jim can’t let this happen, especially now at school. 

The trollhunter pushed those emotions aside, he can deal with them later. “How did you get detention this time?” Jim asked, hoping to start a conversation as a distraction.

“Got caught copying someone else’s work.” Jim had a surprised look on his face, which then Steve remarked, “Yeah, what a surprise. Steve Palchuck gets in trouble for something that doesn’t involve hurting people.”

 “Hey! I didn’t-” The trollhunter paused for a few seconds before he sighed with guilt. “You just have a reputation okay? And not a good one, but you already know that. I know you are capable of being a nice person. You were a good person back when-” Jim flinched at that last part. He shouldn’t have done that, he shouldn't have been digging up the past where at this point it doesn’t matter.

Luckily for Jim, Toby and Mary had returned. “Hey, hey, hey, we’re back! Now if you can please follow us, that’d be really nice.” Toby announced happily. 

Jim quickly hopped off the desk and sped walk towards his best friend, while avoiding his gaze at Steve. As the group walked out of school grounds, a car was parked in front of the school's entrance. The front window lowered and revealed Darci seating in the driver’s seat.

“Darci? What are you doing here?” Claire asked in surprise, making her way in front of the group.

“Helping you escape this prison Clairebear. We’re going to have a bonfire party tonight.” 

The idea of having a rebellious party is what all it took to persuade her, as she wasted no time to get inside the passenger’s seat. 

Mary and Toby looked at the rest of the group with anticipation. “Do you need an invitation or something, come on we don’t have all day.” Mary said, her patience already wearing thin. 

Eli and Shannon were the next ones to get inside the car, though it seemed like Shannon had helped Eli to gain the courage to even pursue that action. Steve then went as well and sat in the front seat, much to Mary’s annoyance. So there was one person left.

“Wrong’s Jimbo?” Toby asked while inside of the car as well. 

Jim believed this was bad, that this was going to get them into even more trouble than they already were. But Toby took the time to make this happen, and would most likely face the punishment the worst when they face the consequences. So he came up with an excuse. 

“Well, there’s no more room for me in the back.” Jim explained, seeing that three people had one person sitting on their lap. 

“It’s okay, you can just sit on Steve’s lap.” Darci said.

“What!?” Both the two male teens exclaimed.

“Look, it’s not the end of the world if you two are close to each other for a while.” Mary reassured, who was beyond done at this point. 

Jim took a deep breath and reluctantly made his way to the front door and when opened, he sat on top of the blonde bully. “Okay, you guys ready?” Darci laughed at the sound of various happy remarks she got at once. 

The ride through Arcadia was a nervous wreck for Jim, and who could blame him. He was sitting on his former bully’s lap after what he had assumed to be an emotional conversation, the trollhunter still couldn’t look Steve in the eye. 

At some point, they had stopped at a gas station. “Why did we stop?” Shannon asked. 

“Almost out of gas, and also so we can get some snacks as well.” Darci explained, getting out of the car while doing so.

“You didn’t bring any food?” Eli added as everyone started to leave for the store.

“I did. Just thought it’d be nice to get something for ourselves Eli.” 

As the young teens ran around the building to see what they could buy. Jim mindlessly wandered around, fidgeting his hands. Darci said she had food so he didn’t really need anything from the store. Just his luck, the trollhunter managed to bump into Steve.

“Ah! Sorry.” Jim apologized. 

The blonde bully didn’t say anything for a moment. “Not getting anything for yourself.”

It was then Jim noticed that Steve was carrying a couple of chips and a soda in his arms. “Um, no. We already have food in the car so what's the point?” 

“The point would be because it’s fun picking stuff out that you like.” Steve rolled his eyes when it looked like Jim still didn’t get it. “Come on Lake. There has to be something here your craving about.”

The trollhunter could only shrug back. The blonde teen then grabbed Jim by the arm and dragged him towards one of the store’s aisles. He let go and said, “Pick something.” 

Jim glanced at the products in front of him. “Why?”

“Because you have to learn how to act like a teenager, starting by buying something for yourself.”

“But-”

“Stop asking questions and just pick something.”

The trollhunter couldn’t understand why Steve was so persistent. Unless he took what Jim said at school to heart. No, that couldn't be the case. Steve hated him and listening to him would be the last thing he’d ever do. Jim sighed and walked closer to the aisle to inspect what was in front of him. Each row had a large variety of sweets and candy, and the trollhunter looked at the price tags to see if he could afford it. Taking into account the cost, Jim started grabbing his favorite candy. And he might or might have not gone overboard, as he was having a difficult time carrying the large amounts of sweets

Steve watched in surprise as Jim turned to him and asked, “Is this too much?”

“Uh no, not at all.” He lied. “Is there anything else you want to get?” 

The trollhunter hummed thoughtfully and went to another aisle while the blonde bully followed nearby. Jim took a few more things and when he was done, the two of them went to the cash register to pay. The cashier asked them if they wanted a bag, while also giving Jim a funny look. Steve declined but the trollhunter accepted the offer. 

As both of them walked out of the store, the rest of the group were waiting for them in the car.

“Omg, what took you guys so long?” Mary complained. 

“Lake had some issues, nothing to worry about. We’re here aren’t we.” Steve answered, getting back inside the car as Jim sat on his lap again.

Mary pouted and crossed her arms while Darci and Claire stifled a snicker. The moment they continued driving, Jim began to get lost in his thoughts. The trollhunter had the window open, as he found the breeze flowing past his face soothing. Their destination was a small clear area that had the set up a campfire and some logs to sit on. Despite never coming here, Jim knew that this was one of the many hotspots in Arcadia that teens would place their parties.

As they all got out of the car, the boys helped Darci take out the firewood from the trunk while the girls brought the food out. While Steve, Eli, and Mary were bickering on how to start a fire, Jim was looking inside the bag that contained what he bought and came to the conclusion that he did go overboard.

“Hey Jimbo, wanna trade some snacks?” Toby asked as it seemed he appeared out of nowhere, which startled the trollhunter.

‘Uh, I don’t know. What do you have?” His best friend took out his snacks while Jim showed him the contents inside.

Toby laughed in surprise and said, “Oh wow! Maybe I should’ve been with you. Man, I forgot that you have a terrible sweet tooth.”

 Jim's face turned red from embarrassment and his shoulders tensed. “I do not have a sweet tooth.”

“Right, I’ve been on a diet for fourteen years.” Toby commented sarcastically. “Now about our trade.”

“Forget it.” The trollhunter said. “You don’t have anything I want anyways.”

Jim turned away from his friend dramatically and stormed off as Toby watched with an amusing smile. The trollhunter sat on a log where it had a clear view of his hometown below.

“Nice view, right?” Claire stated, sitting next to Jim. 

“Yeah, but I prefer our spot.” He admitted.

The two went quiet for a while, watching the sun slowly disappear from their sight. “So how’s your first party as a teenager going?” She jokingly asked. 

But as Jim thought about, this actually was his first time. He was never social enough at school to be involved in stuff like this. The trollhunter wondered if he should feel sad for himself about this fact. “It’s going okay.” He decided to say.

“And I noticed you’ve been talking to Steve quite a lot today.” 

“What? Am I not allowed to?” Jim remarked with a smile.

“Not at all. It’s just interesting, that’s all. Steve kind of hates your guts.” Claire explained with a shrug.

The trollhunter hummed in acknowledgment. “I don’t know, today was different. It seemed like I wasn't trying to be mean towards me. I don’t think he’s even messed with Eli all day.” 

“Hey, maybe your good vibes are finally rubbing off on him.” She suggested.

“My what?”

Claire rolled her eyes and leaned closer to Jim. “Come on now. You have an effect on people, able to bring the good that’s inside of them.” 

“Listen, if I really had that effect on people, then I would have been on Steve’s good side by now. Hell, I wouldn’t have gone to the Darklands if I was capable of doing that.” The trollhunter managed to stop himself before he could open that can of worms even further. Truth be told, Jim thought Steve was just taking pity on him. 

“That’s true, but you try. And that’s all that matters really. You did that with Draal and look where it got you. You gained a new friend because of that.” The trollhunter chuckled, she got him there. 

“I guess you have a point.” 

“I always do.” She remarked with a wink.

The two of them then burst out laughing softly. Claire heard the sound of someone calling her name and turned to the left side to see Darci waving at her. “Well, I gotta go.”

Jim made a small wave goodbye as she left to help out her friend. The trollhunter glanced down at his bag of candy that was on the floor and grabbed a handful. As he took out the wrapper and began eating, his face then beamed with happiness as he felt surgery flavor in his mouth. Jim then felt a newfound warmth behind him, turned around to see the campfire finally ignited. 

He saw Steve glared at Mary, who had a smug expression, while Eli tried to hold back his laughter. The blonde bully sat at the nearest log, which was Jim’s, and started wiping off the soot on his face.

“Geez, what happened?” The trollhunter asked, continuing to eat his candy.

“Mary and I were arguing about how to start the fire. It didn’t go well.” Steve explained.

“She shouldn’t have done that, inhaling fumes from a fire can really damage your lungs.” 

“Well, not everyone knows about doctor stuff Lake.” He said, placing his hand under his chin.

Jim narrowed his eyes and asked, “Why are you talking to me?” 

“Huh?”

“It’s just, really confusing. You never seem to like me and you know, the whole bully shtick. But ever since last week when you found me in the locker room, you’ve been, nicer? I guess. And what I said earlier at school, you don’t look upset about that. I- do you feel bad for me or something?” The trollhunter was rambling, he very much knew that but this was starting to bother him to no end. 

Luckily for Jim, Steve covered his mouth with his hand, asking, “Are you done?”

He nodded and the blonde teen retracted his hand back. “That time in the locker room I guess you can say opened my eyes. And I wasn’t mad about what you said at school because it’s true. Maybe I can be a better person, but I never expected it to be this hard. How can I do that if I even don’t know who that better person is.” Steve yelled in frustration and pulled his hair back. “Whatever, it might not even be worth it in the long run.”

“Hey, it is worth it.” Jim hesitated but touched Steve by the shoulder. “Maybe you just need someone to help you out.”

“Like you?”

“I… don’t see why not.” The trollhunter admitted. “And, I’d like to see who the real Steve Palchuck is.”

The blonde teen looked away and huffed. “Fine, but don’t go telling anyone about this and getting their hopes up, in case this doesn’t work.” 

Jim laughed and ate another candy from his bag. “You’ve kept your word about my secret, so I’ll mine for yours.” The trollhunter’s smile was so genuine and soft that Steve couldn’t help but smile back.

Not long after, the sun had disappeared completely and the night took over the skies. The group walked closer to where the fire's light could reach. Some were trying to make some while others were simply talking.

“So any clue to what the adults are going to do to us when we come back?” Darci asked while making sure her marshmallow wasn’t getting too burned. 

“Other than grounding all of us for like an eternity?” Mary remarked.

Darci playfully pushed Mary. “Come on, be realistic. All I know is that my dad is totally going to take my car away.”

“Well be glad you don’t have parents like mine. They’re going to be on me twenty-four seven after this.” Claire said distastefully, cringing at the thought of it. 

“I don’t think it matters what our parents do to us. Because we already know that what we did today was against the rules.” Shannon stated, she then stared up at the stars and asked, “It’s funny, we’re all practically in the same class every year and yet some of us don’t know a single thing about each other. And took getting detention for us to spend time together.”

“What if we can change that?” Everyone looked at Jim, who then stood up. “Everyone talks about how hard it is to be a teenager, well maybe being there for each other can help that.”

“Hey, Jimbo is right. We’re all struggling if mostly the same issues as teenagers, why not suffer together to make this world more tolerable?” Toby stood by his friend’s side like he always does and forever will.

The group looked at each other, and although no one said anything, everyone knew that they were on board with this. Jim was anxious about this, being a part of a group as big as this was new to him. But today, he has never felt this excited and happy since he got the amulet, so the trollhunter knew it must have meant something. 

His thoughts were interrupted however by the touch of a raindrop. It soon didn’t take long for the rain to start pouring in. 

“Arggh! Are you serious?!” Mary shouted.

“Let’s get to the car and leave!” Darci stated as they began running out of the campsite.

“But where will we go?!” Eli asked.

“How about my house?! My mom won’t be home for at least a few hours!” Jim offered.

The teens got inside the car, all them in the same seats they were earlier, including the ones who had to sit on someone’s laps.  Darci said, “Yeah, that’s a good idea,” and began to drive off.

“Man! I can’t believe today was ruined by the stupid rain!” Mary complained with a pout.

“What talking about, we all had fun. So why let a little rain ruin the moment?” Steve remarked.

As they drove back to Arcadia. Jim leaned to the car’s seat while he heard Claire, Toby, and Mary debate about one of the Gun Robot movies. Jim smiled in delight until he looked out the window from Darci’s side. For a split second, he saw a large shadowy figure running towards them. Jim acted fast and tried to shield Darci and Steve but in the end, it wouldn’t matter much in the long run.

The impact was powerful, as it flung the car off the road and towards the wood. The car flipped around so many times since, beyond the road, there was a hill there before they could even make it to the woods. Jim closed his eyes shut as he was thrashed around by the car’s force and because he wasn’t wearing a seat belt. To the trollhunter, it felt like he would be stuck in this endless cycle of recurring pain. So the moment the car stopped moving, Jim laid there with a blank stare for a moment, hearing the soft sounds of the rain pouring outside. 

He then looked up and saw Steve and Darci dangling from their seats. If the car was flipped upside down then that’d mean, Jim lifted himself and the pain all over his right side finally registered to him. He was indeed laying on shards of glass. The trollhunter slowly concluded that they needed to get out of this car. Ignoring the throbbing pain that came from the back of his head, the trollhunter made his way to the door. 

However, when Jim pushed the door’s handle, it wouldn’t open. He retried multiple times before accepting that the front door was stuck. So the trollhunter repositioned himself, wincing as he felt the shard of glass piercing through his forearms. Jim extended his right leg and tried to kick down the door. An awful sensation traveled through his leg. He tightened his hands into a fist and clenched his teeth with all his might, fighting back the urge to scream. A quiet whine escaped his lips, something was wrong with his right leg but it definitely wasn’t broken. So he tried his left leg, after a few tries the door still wouldn’t open.

Jim needed more strength than he had currently, so he took out the amulet for his pocket, very much grateful that it was still with him, and said the incantation. 

“F...for the Glory…of...of Merlin…Day…Daylight is…s Mine to Co….Command…” As the amulet shined a flash of light, the trollhunter felt his newfound strength the moment his armor appeared around him, and once three kicks, the door flew open. 

Jim dragged himself out of the car and stood up. A wave of dizziness hit him, and his body felt heavy. He stumbled for a bit but managed to get his balance in check. He couldn’t get like this, Jim reminded himself. Getting to the task at hand, the troll hunter went to Steve’s side and unbuckled his seatbelt. He made sure that his fellow student didn’t go into contact with the floor and carried him outside. Once Jim placed Steve on the ground, he went back and forth doing the same process with the others. First Toby, then Mary, then Shannon.

When he was carrying Eli out, a loud growl echoed through the woods. The trollhunter felt a shiver run down his spine, as the color drained from his face, knowing full well that the sound did not come from an animal. Setting his classmate down, he grabbed the handle of his sword and spun around face whatever troll that would come his way. Jim at first could only see a pair of glowing blue eyes, but as the troll got closer, the trollhunter began to recognize its appearance.

“Draal?” Jim's voice wavered. No, he would never have done this. Something else must be amiss. 

The troll wasted no time and charged towards the trollhunter. Jim moved to the side and saw his classmates. He can’t let his friends get hurt. So he ran, as fast as he could, hearing a fearsome roar that felt all too familiar. The trollhunter saw from the corner of his eye Draal spinning towards him. Jim summoned his shield to block his attack, the impact sending him flying off a distance, landing straight towards a tree. The trollhunter had the air knocked out of him as the moment he hit that tree, he heard a loud CRACK! And the pain from his spine shot all over his body. Jim dropped to his knees as tears welled up in his eyes, as he desperately gasped for air. 

With a shaky breath, Jim slowly got back up as he felt Draal’s presence. Every moment made the trollhunter feel like he was on fire, but he had to ignore it. He had to. Jim looked up at the troll in front of him, with Daylight in his hands again, and muttered, “What…what did you do to him?” His words slurred.

Draal, or rather whoever was inside of him, laughed. And the trollhunter recognized that voice. “Gunmar.” He thought.

“The mighty trollhunter, defeated by one blow.” The skullcrusher mocked. “I expected more out of one who slain my son.”

“You didn’t defeat me just yet… There’s still a little fight in me left.” Jim lifted his sword with all his strength and went into a fighting stance. “So we’re not done until I say it is!” He said with such rage. 

How dare Gunmar take his friend away from him. Was there seriously no limit to how low he will go? 

“No matter how different you all are.” Gunmar spun again, but Jim moved to the side in time to avoid his attack. “Every trollhunter will always be stubborn!” The troll leaped and dived down with a punch. Jim swung his sword but didn’t hit his opponent. Despite who was trying to kill him, it was still Draal’s body. And Jim had hope, hope that there was a chance to bring his friend back. 

So the trollhunter hoped that it would trick the skullcrusher and force him to keep his distance. It didn’t work. Gunmar grabbed Jim and slammed him against the ground. “You cannot deceive me trollhunter. You must kill this pathetic excuse of a troll or it will be used against you.”

As Jim struggled to breathe while Gunmar tightened his grip, he said, “ I… I’m not going to hurt my friend. A-and you are a coward! Using others to do your dirty work and can’t even face me yourself!” 

The prideful smile the skullcrusher had faded away and snarled at the trollhunter. “Let’s see how well you can amuse me?” 

He flung Jim away, and the trollhunter quickly stumbled back up as Gunmar charged towards him again. This was a fight Jim could barely remember, maybe for good reason. For the only thing the trollhunter can remember was the unbearable pain the dark overlord gave him. 

Steven heard the muffled sounds of the rain before he could wake up. When his hearing and vision became clearer, the blonde teen could now hear voices shouting at each other, but one caught his attention in particular. “Hey, come on wake up. We need all the help we can get.” Toby desperately shook Steve by the shoulder. 

The blonde teen turned to see Claire trying to calm Mary down, while Darci was with Shannon, checking for any injuries she might have with the help of Eli. 

“Mary calm down! You could hurt yourself more!” 

“Don’t tell me to calm down Clairebear! We were in an accident and one of us is missing! And I don’t have any service on my phone so I can’t call for help!” She shouted at her friend. Mary scrubbed the tears coming from her eyes as she sped-walk around the area to get service.

Claire grabbed Mary’s hands and drew her friend close to her. “Listen, you have the right to freak out. But not right now, I have to see if you’re hurt first. We’ll find a way to get help I promise.”

 Mary sniffed and silently nodded. Then Toby snapped his fingers in front of him to bring Steve’s attention back to him.

“Hey! I know you’re in some kind of shock right now but I seriously need you to snap out of it.” Toby began to mumble to himself, too low for Steve to hear.

Steve pushed himself forward to a sitting position, his body felt heavy and the world around began to feel dizzy for him. “We… we were in a car crash.” He stated, more to himself than the person next to him.

“Yeah. A pretty nasty one at best. But Jim is missing and I can’t find him anywhere.” Toby explained. “I think he tried to take us all out of the car but it seems like something made him stop.” The redhead had a terrible feeling that this wasn’t a normal accident.

“Lake… was sitting in front of me, he.... he wasn’t wearing a seatbelt.” 

Toby pulled his hair back and tried to ignore the implications of that comment. “Which is why I need your help to find him.” 

The redhead helped Steve get up, who almost stumbled back down to the ground. To be honest, Toby would’ve picked someone else to help him. But Claire was busy with making sure everyone else was calm and alright. 

The two made their way through the woods, calling for Jim when Steve began to notice that a lot of the trees were knocked down in half. And among the broken trees, he could see blood splattered around the area. 

“Domzalski.” The blonde teen showed Toby his findings.

The redhead felt his blood turning cold, coming to the terrifying realization of the worst-case scenario had come true. All he knew was that his best friend was in serious trouble and that there was something dangerous in the woods.

“Follow me. And make sure to keep up! Being alone right now is too risky.” Steve was caught off guard by how serious Toby sounded, but he couldn’t blame him. 

They both knew that if they found Jim, it wasn’t going to be a pretty sight to see. Following the path of the destruction of the woods, the two finally heard something. As they walked closer to the source, the sounds of roaring and scraping became louder and louder. Toby suddenly ran towards the danger while Steve had no choice but to follow. They slid down a short, muddy, hill and very quickly Toby made Steve hide under the bushes.

But he was stronger than the redhead and got up. The blonde teen was going to shout at him until he looked in horror at what he saw. In front of them was Jim, who was laying on the ground with some kind of armor, his face covered in blood. From behind the trollhunter, was some kind of beast that loomed over him. Steve acted on instinct and rushed over there to help but Toby stopped, this time making sure that Steve doesn’t interfere.

“Let go of me, Domzalski.” The blonde teen whispered with such intense anger.

“No. You’ll make things worse.” Toby warned with a shaky voice, never taking his eyes off the beast.

“Worse? How can I make it worse when Lake is over there dying because of that, that monster?!” Steve was beginning to find it very hard to not shout.

“Exactly. You’re going to get yourself killed like that and that “monster” might decide to come after the others.” 

Steve knew that Toby was right but was too furious to admit it. And it wasn’t like the redhead was on board with this either. He wanted to help his friend, he wanted to so much but knew the harsh reality of the situation, which was that he wasn’t enough to protect Jim from Gunmar and would endanger his classmates. 

As Jim slowly tried to drag himself away from the beast with the strength he had left, it grabbed him by the hair, pulled him close, and whispered something to him. Steve and Toby held their breath at the sight of the beast slamming the trollhunter’s face into the ground, which made the armor disappear. Steve was sure that it was going to kill Jim but to his and Toby’s surprise, and relief, the beast walked away with a victorious smile and disappeared into the night. 

There was a moment of silence. No one spoke, no one, only the sound of rain pouring down and the wind blowing the trees. Then, the painful moans that came from the trollhunter made Steve rushed towards him. He fell to his knees, flipped Jim over, and held him close. The trollhunter’s blue sweater was tainted by a crimson red color all over, he tried to speak but the blood inside this mouth made it impossible to do so. 

Steve stared at Jim and muttered, “He... he needs to go to the hospital,” before glancing at Toby, who was covering his mouth as tears welled up in his eyes. “Domzalski!” He shouted. “He needs to get to a hospital.” 

“My phone broke during the crash.” Toby said quietly. “Maybe...  maybe the others already called for help.” Steve was going to follow the redhead but was stopped. “No! He might be too unstable to move. So please, stay here until I come back.” 

“O-okay.” No. Steve couldn’t do it, he couldn’t handle hearing Jim desperately trying to talk for whatever reason even though he was choking on his own blood, his wide eyes frantically darting from every direction.

The trollhunter was just as scared as Steve was, maybe even more. Now with a prickly feeling in his blood-soaked hands, the blonde teen moved Jim’s face to his direction and repeated the phrases, “I-it’s going to be okay. Just ha-hang in there. Help’s on the away...” over, and over, and over, and over again with only one thought in his mind:

He never expected to see this much blood to come out of only one person.

[elizabethemerald]

Dreams of Drowning: Chap 13

AO3

Please Reblog! 

It's finally time, for... The Arcadia Job.

“We understand Jimbo.” Toby waved from the ground. “Go do your hero thing. We’ll back you up if you need it. As soon as the world comes back into focus.”

Toby laid on his back in the middle of the street trying to catch his breath as Jim’s car turned the next corner out of sight. His arms felt like they were full of lead. Even lifting his head took more energy than he had. 

“How does Jim do this magic stuff all the time?” He asked to no one in particular. 

“He’s had his magic longer than either of us have.” Barbara said. 

She was also sitting on the ground not far from Toby, her legs splayed out in front of her. After a few deep breaths she tried to force herself to stand. She got to her feet a little unsteadily. 

“Is anyone injured? I can-whoa.” 

Barbara took one step while she was talking and would have fallen flat on her face had Zelda not dove to catch her. She carefully held Barbara for a moment before lifting her up into her arms in a bridal carry. 

“If anyone is hurt we can heal on our own. You need to rest before you do anything else.” Zelda said as she carried Barbara to the house. 

She stepped carefully over the wreckage of the living room to set her wife down at a chair in the dining room. Toby watched them go, then rose with a groan and dragged himself to the house. Strickler stepped up to him and threw an arm over his shoulder to help him to the door. He kept his phone pressed to his ear with his other hand. 

“Yes I know I haven’t called in forever, will you just listen?” Strickler was saying into the phone. “Angor I’ve got a problem I need your help with. What do you mean you’re not in the country any more? Cambodia! Why are in you in Cambodia?”

Toby zoned out of the conversation as he sat at the table next to Barbara. He rested his head on his arms, Jim’s mom seeming equally exhausted. Zelda was bustling around the kitchen, quickly getting some food for Toby and her wife. When a small plate of food and some tea was put in front of them, Barbara smiled up at her, exhaustion and love showing in every line of her face. 

“Thank god one of us can cook.” Barbara said. “Thank you my love.”

Toby took out his phone while Barbara slowly took a sip of her tea. He fiddled with the phone idly while he thought. Some how he would have to tell Darci about what happened. Tell her that he had magic. Also explain that the truck was probably totalled from Bular flipping it. As he was about to call her he froze. To his right Barbara gasped, her cup slipping from her limp fingers to shatter on the ground. 

“Something’s wrong.” He said. 

“Jim-” Barbara whispered. 

The two of them looked at each other. They could feel Jim’s fear and anger. Then a wave of pain and exhaustion washed over them. Zelda dashed to Barbara’s side as she groaned and steadied her as she wavered in her chair. Toby’s vision faded to a pinprick for a moment as he struggled to stay conscious. 

And then the scream. It tore through his mind, shutting down the entire world. He couldn’t hear it over the scream in his head, but he was screaming out loud as well, his scream tearing its way out of his throat. 

Time stood still. Toby could see through his own eyes. He could see the floor of the Lake-Nomura house where he had collapsed. He could feel Strickler’s arms on him keeping him from hitting his face on the floor. Brilliant orange fire roaring around him.  

He could see through Barbara’s eyes. The navy light that shone from her, was mixed with a neon green light. He could see through Zelda’s eyes, her skin shifting and changing like rocks sliding down a cliff, revealing different skin tones in flashes of green. They held each other while they both screamed. 

He could see through Darci’s eyes. Her magic moved like a whirling wind pulling her dreadlocks. She screamed by herself, alone, on the floor of the Domzalski house kitchen. Her hands were desperately wrapped around her belly, as her magic picked up to what seemed like a cyclone. 

Toby could see through Jim’s eyes. He could see his best friend and first love get pulled slowly toward a pool filled with some strange dark material. He recognized that it was somehow linked to the corrupted heartstone that Jim had been so afraid of. Toby realized he couldn’t sense Claire at all in that moment. 

Time suddenly returned to its regular pace. The fear disappeared like it was swallowed by the sun. Toby struggled to catch his breath. His throat hurt from the force of his scream. His hands were shaking as he grabbed Strickler’s arm for support. He could hear the ragged breathing of the Lake-Nomuras as they too recovered from what happened. Barbara was the first to speak. 

“Is Jim…?” Even though she didn’t finish her sentence the others knew what she was trying to ask. 

“I can’t sense Jim at all now.” Toby said. He stood, expecting to be exhausted, but instead he felt energized. He felt better than he had in years, probably since being a teenager. He flexed his arms and his flames roared to life around him. Strickler took an astonished step back. Barbara was shining with her navy light and beside her Zelda’s skin continued to shift and change like tectonic plates. Each shift was accompanied by a flash of green. 

“We have to go after Little Gynt.” Zelda said. Though her voice currently sounded like Coach Lawrence and her body looked like Strickler’s. Her voice followed her body, slowly slipping into Strickler’s posh British accent, while her body shifted again to look like Toby. “Whatever happened, whyever we can’t feel him, we need to try and rescue him.”

“And Claire.” Barbara said. She let the light fade from her eyes, though it still shown and moved under her skin. “Jim was willing to risk his life to save her, and whatever else we can’t let anyone else suffer these feelings, especially not someone we love.”

Toby snapped his fingers. 

“That reminds me! I have to call Darc!”

He looked to where his phone had fallen when he collapsed. He lifted his hand and orange flames whirled around the phone and brought it flying to his hand. However before he could even dial the phone announced an incoming call. He answered it quickly when he saw who it was. 

"Hey Darc-"

"Is something wrong with Jim?" Darci interrupted. Toby blanched at the tone in her voice. 

"No! There's nothing wrong with Jimbo!"

"Don't lie to me! I can tell when you're lying!" She hesitated and Toby could feel the wind pick up around her as if he was by her side. “I can tell when you’re lying.”

Toby took a deep breath. There was no point in playing around any more. 

“Ok, so Jim lost contact with Claire and went to go check on her. I awakened my magic powers about an hour ago when Bular came to try and kill us again. Now you and Zelda have awakened your powers as well. I can’t feel Jim at all, and we are going to have to go in and save him with only a half baked plan and marginal chance of success. So do you want to come over and kill me yourself before I get arrested?”

Darci was silent on the other end of the line for a few moments. 

“I’m on my way. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Toby hung the phone, then stared at the screen for a moment. 

“Good news, bad news time. Darci is on her way, and her magic is awakened as well. On the other hand she didn’t clarify whether or not she was going to kill me when she arrived.”

Several minutes, one hurried explanation and multiple calls later, Darci was up to speed on what had happened and what their plan up to this point was. Toby thought it would take a bit of convincing to get the police to leave, so they weren’t left doing paper work for the rest of the night, but apparently along with being a human lie detector, Darci could now tell any lies she wanted and they were believed without question. Once she was caught up, and the authorities mislead about the gunfire that had been heard, they all left for 49B. 

“Alright, just to review everyone’s jobs one last time.” Strickler said as he drove. Zelda was next to him in the car, while Darci, Toby and Barbara were crammed together in the back. “I’ll be in the car running mission ops. I’ll keep you updated on everything from here. Zelda, you and Mrs. Domzalski are on infiltration. Get in, find out what’s become of Young Atlas and get out. Meanwhile Barbara and Mr. Domzalski will be targeting the generator room that Jim trashed. Apparently its tied to whatever equipment they used to keep Claire in captivity, and possibly now Jim as well. Once the generator is destroyed and we know Young Atlas’s whereabouts we, well, improvise to extract him and his lady fair.”

“Just what I like in a plan. A massive question mark right in the middle of the operation.” Zelda growled to herself, before her body shifted to take on the appearance of an industrial inspector. 

They pulled up to 49B far too soon. Toby cracked his knuckles nervously as he and Jim’s mom stepped out of the car. Barbara wore Zelda’s motorcycle helmet to hide her face. Toby wore a pair of welding goggles and a bandana from his truck. Zelda’s identity was already hidden by her transformation. The only one exposed was Darci. Toby glanced nervously at his already visibly pregnant wife. 

Toby and Zelda stared each other down. “Take care of her.” “Keep her safe.” They spoke over each other, both anxious about being separated from their respective wives. Barbara put her hand gently on Zelda’s chin for a soft second before they both turned away. Toby moved to follow Barbara and he felt a tickle of air flutter around him. He smiled and in an instant all four minds were connected. 

Toby could feel their fear flowing easily, fear of failure, fear of capture, fear of what had happened to Jim. He could also feel the hole left by Jim’s absence. There was a very clear spot where he belonged in the fabric of their minds. A place where his love should be. A place where he would have been able to steady them and encourage them to move forward. The hole ached in Toby’s mind. 

He and Dr Lake-Nomura quickly reached the rear door. He paused for a second, watching in his mind’s eye as Darci and Zelda approached the main entrance. The wind picked up around Darci each time she lied to the guard to get their way in. Then once they were out of sight of the first guard Zelda changed to look just like him as she escorted Darci. 

“Look at the card reader.”

Toby refocused on his current surroundings at Barbara’s words. The card reader that employees normally used to unlock the door had a small burn mark, like it had been shorted out. He tried the door itself and found it open. He pulled his hammer from his back and opened the door slowly. 

There was no one at all inside. They quickly ran down the hallway until they were outside the door to the mechanical room Jim had trashed earlier. He paused, and glanced through Darci’s vision. She and Zelda had just made it to the security office. Zelda had incapicated the guard inside and assumed his form. 

“TP, All the cameras for the facility are already off. They didn’t want anyone to know what they were doing today.” Darci’s voice slipped into his mind. 

“And it looks like all security officers were ordered to avoid the basement level.” Nomura’s thoughts followed Darci’s. “Classified experiment on Entity 001 and Entity 002. Per orders from Gunmar Black.”

“That must be Jim and Claire!” Toby cheered. “We’ll trash the generator then head down to get them out.” 

“Stay safe you too. It’s about to get dark.” Barbara thought. 

The door to the mechanical room was locked, which wasn’t too surprising considering what Jim had managed to do to it last time. However it was the work of a moment to push some of his fiery magic into the key hole and in a moment it was unlocked. He opened the door for Jim’s mom to step in. 

“Would you like to do the honors?” Toby asked, gesturing to the array of recently repaired machinery. 

Barbara hesitated, her thoughts whirling through their shared connection. She wanted to take a small revenge by destroying the equipment, but was terrified of someone getting hurt and wanted to reserve her magic for saving Jim if that was necessary. 

Toby nodded his understanding, putting a comforting hand on her arm. He double checked that Darci and Zelda were safe, they had locked the security office, Zelda sealing it by warping the concrete around the door frame, then he ignited his hammer. 

Orange flames whirled around the room and it only took a few precise hammer blows for the lights to fail again, but that wasn’t enough. He was getting his best friend out of this facility and no one would ever use it to hurt people again. Broken sheets of metal flew into the air as he hammered away. Each piece floated for a second before joining a growing sphere of metal that was forming in the center of the room. 

He focused, putting the full might of his gravity magic to the task. The sphere grew as more metal and debris were pulled to it, then compressed as he forced the material into one solid. Before too long he had a sphere just a touch taller than he was, all of solid metal. He strained, putting more and more magic into lifting the ball up to the ceiling. His arms were shaking, and sweat poured down his brow, only to evaporate in the heat of his magic. Finally when he couldn’t take the strain any more, he slammed the sphere straight down into the floor. 

The floor of the mechanical room gave way like wet paper before the concentrated weight of the sphere. A rumbling crash echoed through the room as it impacted, and passed through the floor below them. 

Toby didn’t hesitate to jump down into the pit he had created, Jim’s mom right behind him. He used his magic to slow their descent. They both landed safely in a hallway that was now completely filled with dust. They both dimmed their magic so they wouldn’t give themselves away prematurely. They froze at the sound of coughing ahead of them. 

“The entities must have outside contacts” A woman’s voice could be heard through the dust. “Get to the security booth! I’ll make sure they don’t break containment!”

They both recognized the voice of Dr. Le Fay, the woman who had imprisoned and tortured Claire and surely orchestrated Jim’s capture. Toby waved his hand in the air and the orange flames of his magic swept forward, settling the dust instantly. Barbara was already charging the woman in gold. 

“That’s my son you bitch!” Navy light shone from her fist as she punched Le Fay in the face. 

Gunmar turned with a growl, but before he could do more to react Toby had cocked his hammer back and threw it with all his might and magic. It hit him right in the chest and blasted him backwards through a wall. 

The rumbling that had started when Toby had dropped his meteor, suddenly picked up again, shaking the whole room. Barbara stumbled as a horrific growling filled the room. The noise seemed to go on and on without stopping, and it was coming from the room Gunmar had just been flung through. As they watched a massive hand burst through the ground. Another followed shortly after. 

Something emerged from the hole. It was massive, had stone skin and incredible horns that swept back from its head. It opened its mouth, revealing huge tusks, and roared. The roar was powerful enough to shatter glass. Toby and Barbara crouched their hands over their ears as the roar rumbled through their bodies. Finally the roar ended and they could both breath again. 

Toby stood, drawing the thing’s attention. Blue eyes glowed in the darkness, and blue flames licked out of the creature’s mouth and nostrils. 

“Jim? Is that you? Jimbo?” Toby called to it, a tremor in his voice. 

“Please Jim, we’re here to free you!” Barbara stood next to him, reaching out her hand for whatever this thing was. 

Instead of answering the creature, that towered over them both, growled, more flames pouring out of his mouth. Toby reacted on instinct, grabbing Barbara and pivoting with her so he took the brunt of the fire on his back, sheltering her. If this was Jim, what had they done to him? If this wasn’t, then they had no chance of saving him. 

[allthephils]

Repose

Read on ao3  

Word count: 3592 Rating: M (language, adult themes, drinking, mentions of sex, sleeping beauty au)

Chapter 4

It rained the whole way home. Phil watched the water dribble down over the window. He was glad the sun had disappeared behind grey clouds. It’s exhausting being sad in good weather. Louise was kind enough to let him alone on the drive, except for the occasional pat to the knee when she noticed him wiping a tear. Phil felt so much grief, like he was walking away from Dan forever. He’d already been through this process and those old wounds stung in a new, deeper way.

When you’re in love with a member of the royal family, you don’t have to try to stay abreast of that person’s well being. Phil had actively avoided any news about Dan but he still had constant reassurance that he was was alive and well. Now, there was no guarantee that Dan would be either of those things. If all this curse nonsense was true, one of those eligible women could well be his destiny. The royal decree had been clear, whoever delivered the kiss that woke Daniel from his sleep, had the right to marriage and all that entails. The other possibility was that none of those women were Daniel’s true love and he would stay locked in sleep forever. There was a third option as well, that there was no curse and Daniel was just in some sort of unusual variety of coma. He could be lost before they even knew what was happening, and not to sleep, but truly lost. Phil couldn’t fathom the last one, but he honestly didn't know which of the first two was worse.

Louise had to get home to Darcy. She gave Phil a tight hug at the curb with promises to check in and reminders that he could call her anytime, day or night. He tried to tell her how grateful he was for her but the rain came down and they were cut short. Phil brushed his teeth and took a shower. He really just stood under the water, trying to feel something other than grief and sadness and frustration. Phil just wanted to climb into bed but it was only 3 in the afternoon and he didn’t want to risk causing himself a sleepless night in the state he was in. He pulled on his Star Wars pajamas and went to grab t-shirt from his drawer. He dug to the bottom to find a really old, soft one. When he saw the green pattern, he wondered which shirt it was for a moment until he realized it was Dan’s Versace. It had been left behind in the laundry but Phil always thought Dan left it on purpose. He knew Phil hated that shirt. It was hideous and spending over 100 pounds on a t-shirt was just wrong. Now though, as he slipped it on, it felt precious to him.

Phil padded in socked feet down to the kitchen and made a cup of coffee. He carried the mug to the sofa and turned on the television. He couldn’t be bothered to put in a DVD so he scrolled through amazon video and played Jurassic World. Watching Chris Pratt flex and fight dinosaurs sounded like an ideal distraction. Just as he pulled a blanket over his legs, his phone rang, like actually rang. He almost ignored it, completely unwilling to take on human interaction right now, but he didn’t get many calls, it could be urgent. It was Phil’s brother, Martyn.

“Hey Martyn.”

“Hey buddy.” His voice was overly kind.

“What’s up Martyn, I’m kinda busy.”

“Yeah I see you’ve had a busy day. You’re quite the hero on Twitter and Tumblr. Mum’s not loving it but I think she is secretly a little proud.”

“Excuse me?” Phil wanted to throw the phone across the room. Couldn’t he get one day off from all of that? “What are you on about?”

“Phil, I saw the video of you at the castle gate. It’s pretty impressive, I have to say. I don’t want to say I’m surprised but I’m surprised. You stood up for what’s right. The hashtag was bound to happen, it’ll blow over.” Martyn talked to someone on his end for a moment. “Cornelia says to tell you she ships it.”

All at once, Phil remembered, #Phaniel. He hadn’t told his family about Dan, he couldn’t. They knew he had had a boyfriend and that it ended badly. Martyn had come to see him in those dark post break up weeks. As far as Martyn was concerned, Phaniel was no different than Phimmy or Philirific. There was a knock at the door, a merciful interruption. It was the first time in his life, Phil had been happy someone was at the door, except all the times Dan had knocked of course.

“Thanks Martyn and tell Corn I love her. I’ve gotta run, someone’s knocking on my door.”

Martyn tried to argue but Phil hung up, pretending not to hear. He got up and hoped whoever was at the door was ready for the stunning outfit he was sporting. It was a courier of sorts, or was it a process server? “Philip Lester?” He asked, looking down at his clipboard.

“Yes?” Phil felt a twinge of nerves, what was all this about? He really hoped he hadn’t been sent a stripper as he was really not in the mood. They handed over a rather impressive looking envelope with Phil’s name and address written in beautiful calligraphy. The clipboard was shoved into his hands, “Sign for receipt please.” Phil was baffled but he signed, hesitating a moment because he almost wrote amazingPhil. The courier nodded a thanks and turned to leave.

Phil closed the door behind him and sat on the sofa. He turned the envelope over in his hands. There was an honest to god wax seal on the back. He peeled it away, opened the flap, and pulled out the letter. The paper felt wonderful in his hands, it was weighty, and soft to the touch. He held it up to the light and saw the fibers of cotton dispersed throughout. The black ink was deep and rich and Phil marveled that the letter was hand written. He expected some kind of royal decree, an order to cease and desist, or maybe even a restraining order, but that’s not what he read.

Mr. Lester,

It has come to our attention that your presence at Prince Daniel’s bedside may have had an effect on his well being. The queen requests your return to discuss your visit with the royal physician. Your continued involvement may or may not be desired by her majesty and any further invitation will be extended at a date and time yet to be determined. A car will be sent for you tomorrow morning at 8.

With regards,

Virginia Richards

Senior Secretary

to her Majesty the Queen

Phil snapped a photo and sent it to Louise, who responded simply, with WTF? After Jurassic World, Phil watched an episode of Black Mirror and ordered Thai food. He went to bed early since he’d be getting up in the morning like a normal adult human, for the second day in a row.

Sleep came easy and he dreamed of dragons and enchanted swords, of thorny vines that wound their way up and over Windsor Castle. He saw pink roses, the color of Dan’s lips, bloom between the thorns. Phil, in his dream, approached the gate, his sword dragging behind him, and the thorny tangle unwound and opened to him. He walked through and climbed a winding staircase, dropping his weapon somewhere along the way. Dan lay in repose in a tower surrounded by an artificial night, the moon shone down on his face, and stars drew constellations around him. Phil leaned over to kiss him and Dan’s lips felt cold against his. As Phil stood, Dan’s arm dropped off the bed, limp at his side. Phil woke with a start and checked the time, 6am. He didn’t feel rested, he felt like he’d run a marathon. Nevertheless, he got out of bed and into the shower. He made coffee and forced some cereal down. He took his time dressing but wore his usual plaid shirt and jeans. Phil had no idea what was ahead but he wasn’t feeling particularly eager to please. Seeing Dan again was his only incentive to cooperate and he held on to a sliver of hope that maybe Dan was doing better, maybe he could help him.

Louise practically bounced in her seat, Phil’s phone in her hand. Opposite her, Phil was stress eating, inhaling pizza. He was already on his 3rd slice.

“You have him programmed into your phone as Dan?”

“He told me to call him Dan! What was I supposed to put, Prince Daniel, Duke of Cambridge, future king of England, the one with the nice arse?”

“That’s more accurate, so yes.” Louise thought out loud, “He’s clearly into you. You need to seem interested but not overly excited. He probably gets all kinds of crazy attention.”

“What do you mean, clearly? We said 2 sentences to each other and I was a bumbling mess. Anyway, he said he hoped we’d be friends.” He started on slice 4.

Louise looked Phil dead in the eye. “Are you serious? So you think a prince who has been skirting gay rumors since he was 16 gave his bodyguards the slip and stalked a super cute guy with a matching haircut because he wanted to be friends? You think he hands his phone number out to strangers on the regular?”

Phil blushed, “Guess not.” Louise hit send and handed the phone back.

“Oh my god, you sent it!?"

Phil: Hi Dan, It’s Phil, from the bakery. Sorry you had to run. Can we pick up where we left off?

The phone vibrated and Phil jumped, slamming it face down on the table with a small yelp. Louise rolled her eyes and picked it up, reading aloud.

Dan: Phil! You texted me! I wasn’t sure you would. Does this mean I get to see you again?

Phil put his head down on the table to hide his burning cheeks. He was terrified and giddy and insanely flattered. Louise leaned over and shook Phil by the shoulders.

“Oh. My. God. Philip!”

Phil played it as cool as he could, saying he’d love to hang out but he did have a lot to do this week. This was an absolute lie considering Phil had literally no schedule and no one to answer to but himself. Dan told Phil that he’d be spending the next 2 days in Hackney, helping primary school kids plant a vegetable garden, but that Saturday would be a perfect night to meet up.

Saturday night at 8:30, there was a knock at the door. Phil looked in the mirror, repaired his splinges, and unbuttoned his top button. He opened the door and waved stiffly at Dan who waved back in a sweet attempt at breaking the tension. He followed Dan out the front door to a waiting car. A strong looking guy in a suit held the door open for them and they climbed in. Phil recognized him from the bakery and Dan introduced him as Dennis. Dennis did not say hello, but leaned in and handed Phil an Ipad. “Standard non-disclosure agreement, sign with your finger please. And I’ll need to see your ID.”

“Nice to meet you too, Dennis.” Phil snarked. He pulled his ID out and showed it to Dennis, then signed the screen. Dennis shut the door and walked around to the front passenger seat.

“Sorry about him, he really is a nice guy.” Dan said.

Sometimes, YouTube sent cars to take Phil to events. He tried to pretend this was no different, that there wasn’t a bodyguard in the front seat and a prince sitting next to him.

“So, where are we going?” In an effort to avoid staring longingly at Dan’s beautiful face, Phil watched the scenery go by through the tinted window. It was going to take some time to see him as flesh and blood and not the heartthrob Phil had been stanning for months.

“Knightsbridge.” Dan said, “A few of my friends are having a party in this amazing apartment. You’ll love it. There should be food there if you’re hungry.”

Phil liked a very particular kind of party, the kind with a few close friends playing board games and eating pizza. What Dan was describing sounded like Phil’s own private hell. There’d be weird food he’d never tried, expensive furniture for him to spill drinks on, and loads of new people to judge him for looking awkward and uncomfortable the whole time. Normally, these types of parties wouldn’t be a problem because Phil would never be invited to one but now he had unwittingly agreed to attend. He was just going to have to be brave, there was no way he was giving up this chance to spend time with Dan.

They pulled up in front of a smart looking building. Dennis got out, exchanged some sort of secret lad handshake hug with the doorman, then leaned against the hood of the car and lit a cigarette. Phil followed Dan into the building and to a private elevator. Dan punched a code into a keypad on the wall and they went up. And up. And up. Phil leaned on the railing and closed his eyes as his stomach traveled into his throat. He took a few deep breaths to recover from the elevator induced motion sickness and straightened himself up. The doors opened onto an opulent lounge the size of Phil’s entire apartment. The longest sofa he had ever seen stretched along the length of two walls, dotted with couples and clusters of people. The sofa was white and Phil vowed to stayed far away from it. A huge wall of windows revealed a balcony with a firepit in the center. Across the lounge, there was a banquet table covered in food. Phil took a step closer to Dan, who leaned in to his ear. “Don’t worry, I hate parties too. This is just one of the few places I can be without hiding. Let’s go loiter by the food.”

Phil exhaled and the two of them hurried through the scattered crowd. They grazed on tiny cakes and Dan served up some strong smelling punch. They drank and chatted about nothing and soon the party disappeared. It was just Dan and Phil, not a prince and a YouTuber, just a couple of dorks debating which is the best Mario Kart. Phil refilled their glasses and eyed a small card set on a plate of hors d'oeuvres.

“Dan, what exactly is an artisanal pickle? And why does it need to be said that it’s gluten free?” Dan laughed, covering his mouth to keep from dribbling. ”Don’t ask me mate, I’m a royal not a hipster.” He handed Phil his glass, moving in close enough that Phil could smell the cherry vodka on his breath. “I need to powder my nose. Be right back.”

Phil watched Dan walk away with perhaps just a bit too much attention, but soon snapped back to realize he was stood alone, at a party, full of posh people he doesn't know. He backed himself into the kitchen and leaned on a counter, staring into his punch. There was a couple making out against another counter but the kitchen was so big, it didn’t seem an issue. Phil began absentmindedly playing with a set of crystal salt and pepper shakers next to him, naming them Dan and Phil, and walking them down an imaginary aisle. Just as he said the second I do, someone sidled up next to him and he jumped, shoving the shakers away so fast, one tipped and spilled.

“You’re amazingPhil.” He was as tall as Phil with a mop of curly hair that hung down into his striking green eyes. Phil was hastily brushing salt off the counter into his hand. He threw a bit over his shoulder to avoid angering any malevolent spirits and let the rest fall to the floor.

“I am. Hey.” He really hoped this guy would walk away but that didn’t happen.

“I’m PJ, so good meeting you.” He shook Phil’s hand briskly and spoke just as fast. “Love your videos. You came with Dan, yes? Dan and I met in grammar school. He’s a grave disappointment to his parents as am I, so we bonded right off the bat. Can I pick your brain about YouTube? I find it fascinating.”

“Hi PJ, It’s eh, good to meet you too but I feel like I should see where Dan ran off to.”

“Oh Dan? He’s right over there.” He gestured over his shoulder. “He got ambushed on his way back from the loo.”

Phil looked over to see Dan talking to a very pretty young woman in tiny shorts and a bolero jacket. Her heels were so high, she could look Dan right in the eye. Her right hand rested on his forearm and the other gesticulated wildly, spilling drops of her drink onto the cream colored rug. Dan caught Phil looking for him and he rolled his eyes and grinned before going back to feigning interest in her non-stop talking.

“So,” PJ drew Phil back in, “you guys a thing then?”

“Me and Dan? Oh no. We only just met. We’re just friends.”

“Really? Hmm. Didn’t look like friends over here canoodling in the corner.” PJ crunched a tiny pickle.

“Canoodling? We weren’t… he’s not interested in me like that.” Phil moved to get himself more punch and PJ followed, standing beside him.

“You see the girl he’s talking to? That’s Iris Spencer. She comes from just the right sort of family and has been educated in all the right schools. If Dan’s father could choose anyone for him to marry, she’d be it.”

“Marry? He not even 19.”

“Well, they’d wait till after university of course. To call her Dan’s ex-girlfriend would be a stretch so let’s just say they’ve spent some time together and she’s not accustomed to being turned down. Anywho, she’s been talking his ear off for a good 20 minutes and he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you.” PJ slurped from his cup of punch to drive his point home. “He’s into you.”

Phil kept his head low but glanced up, trying to discreetly watch the interaction. Dan nodded occasionally but his eyes stayed fixed over Iris’ shoulder, across the room, on Phil. Their eyes met and and Phil bit his lip to keep his smile from spreading too wide. He looked at PJ who grinned and slurped again.

“He’s out of my league.” Phil said, shaking his head softly.

PJ leaned in close and whispered, “Phil, he’s looking at you like you’re a damn buffet and he’s not sure which end to start on. Go. Get. Your. Man.”

Phil sputtered a laugh and looked at PJ with wide eyes. He couldn’t argue with that so he tipped back the rest of his punch and stood up as straight as his nerves would allow. He marched right up to Dan and took his hand.

“Phil! This is… Oh!” Dan was cut off mid-sentence as Phil pulled Dan along with him, never stopping.

Iris fumed, “Oi! Dan!”

Dan looked over his shoulder, “Sorry Iris, got a better offer!” They drew some attention as Phil led Dan out onto the balcony. Phil spotted a huge tub of beers and grabbed two. Dan did the same. They followed the balcony around the side of the building and squeezed past a stack of extra patio chairs to find a few feet of blessed empty space. They both sunk to the ground, giggling. Dan popped the tops of his beers on the slats of a chair and handed one to Phil, who held his own two beers up, “Great minds,” he said as he put them aside.

The clinked their bottles together and Dan opened his mouth to give a toast but paused, “I just realized all the toasts I know are dirty, I don’t want to offend you. You got one?”

Phil though for a second, cleared his throat, and said, “I’d rather have a bottle in front of me then a frontal lobotomy. Cheers!”

Dan chuckled and drank. “Phil, I’m sorry I brought you here. I wanted to go somewhere I could be myself but this scene is garbage, I know that.”

“I dunno. I’m actually having a really good time, Dan. I met your friend, PJ. He’s… interesting. He’s actually pretty cool. I don’t care where we are as long I’m...” Phil stopped himself just in time but Dan wasn’t gonna let him off that easy.

“I’m sorry, what?” Dan stared at Phil, eyebrows raised, hand over his heart. “Phil Lester, were you gonna say, as long as you’re with me ?”

“No. I mean, that’s weird. We just met. I… I just...”

“You were gonna say that!” Dan was getting such a kick out of Phil’s utter embarrassment. “You cheesy mother fluffer. You were playing it so cool, but I broke through, didn’t I? Admit it, you like me? You think I’m fit.” The emphasis Dan put on the word fit had Phil completely flustered. He put his forehead on Dan’s shoulder and groaned. Dan laughed a little to loud.

“It’s ok, Phil.” Dan’s voice softened, “I like you too.”

[plaidstiel-wormstache]

Mrs Darcy

As promised from an earlier WIP’s coming up... here’s my Pride and Prejudice smut. Thanks go to @notnaturalanahi for sending in an idea and then talking Pride and Prejudice 2005 movie with me all week. Everything Expected: smut, language, 2005 movie based plot and spoilers, unbeta’d garbage, Mr Darcy x YN Bennett.   1483 word count

YN took the first step into the carriage and his hand shot out of its own volition, taking hers to assist her up and in, opposite her parents. She gripped the offered hand, unbelieving that he was gentle enough to consider helping. Fitzwilliam let go of her hand and turned away before the horses had begun to move, before YN had even sat down. Her skin against his, her dainty fingers gripping his strong hand, her touch still lingered. It made his nerves tingle, the hairs on the back of his hand were standing. The electricity that tickled underneath the skin of his palm was almost uncomfortable. Mr Darcy flexed his hand wide then curled it into a fist. He couldn’t wait to be free of any company so he could relieve the increasing pressure between his legs. His blood was pumping harder than ever before, he was sure he could feel it coursing through his body, building to a throb in his pants. He was overtaken by a desperate need to wrap his hand around his cock and pump till he was wasted, spent of energy. All because of the touch that lasted no longer than a second.

Months passed and still that touch lingered. Fitzwilliam couldn’t believe his eyes as he entered his Aunt’s music room. Lady Catherine, her daughter Anne, the intolerable Mr Collins, his nice enough wife Charlotte and … there she was, YFN Bennett. He sat next to her at dinner and listened to her quick wit and fast answers to Lady Catherine’s interrogation, holding back the smile as she refused to tell of her age and left the older woman flabbergasted. But then the true delight of the evening came when listening to her play the piano forte, watching her fingers move over the keys. Her fingers, her hand, that hand. Darcy’s pent up lust made his words sound harsh and elicited yet another snipe from YN. But he was sure, he was so sure that when he poured his heart out to her the next day, after church, that she would return his affection. But his words came out wrong and she threw them back in his face, giving him more to think on, more to feel guilty for. But he wouldn’t let her accuse him of hurting Mr Wickham. And at the mention of that man’s name, Darcy burst, his raw emotion laid before YN and they both argued. He hated the way they’d left things, he had to be open and honest, not allow her to continue to blame him for false truths she’d been told, so he wrote her a note. All the while, his quill scratched at the paper, reminding him of that day she had circled him with Caroline Bingley. One of the first few days he had truly fallen for YFN Bennett.

It was months again before Mr Darcy saw her again. He’d come home early to surprise Georgiana and as he greeted his little sister, whom he doted upon, he looked up to the crack in the door and saw her. It was only a brief second, but he saw her. YN’s demeanor had changed, she was softer and, was it possible she was shy? Fitzwilliam felt like he’d met an entirely different YN there and then. But he dared not get his hopes up, she had rejected him once before and he was still hurting, though he couldn’t help entertain the small flirting gazes and quips, the smile that encouraged him to believe.

Months passed again. Mr Darcy had paid and attended the wedding of Wickham and YN’s younger sister Lydia, promising them both to silence. He did it all for YN, and yet, he didn’t want her if all she was doing was repaying a debt for her family. Fitzwilliam knew she’d be there, after all he was accompanying his friend to the Bennett household, moral support for Charles as he asked Jane to marry him. Of course YN was there as they both stood in the doorway, looking at the five women. He waited for his friend to speak, for someone to say something, but he couldn’t help but stare at YN, wishing it were him asking for her hand. That hand.

“What are you thinking about?” YN asked, rubbing at his broad back with her soft and warm hand. That hand. “About you.” He replied, looking back over his shoulder at her. YN was lying on her side, hand still lingering at the small of his back, the silk shift gave her an angelic glow against the light of the fire. “About me?” She asked, smiling when he lay back next to her, craning his neck to kiss her jaw. “About you Mrs Darcy!” Fitzwiliam was sure he’d never truly believe she was his. She wore his ring, claimed his name, and held his heart. But it was too good to be true. “Is that right?” She laughed as he pushed at her shoulder, rolling her onto her back and him onto his side, lifting up onto his elbow, looking down into her eyes. “I love you, YN.” He breathed, his eyes flicking from hers to her lips, mesmerized when her tongue flicked across them, dragging her bottom lip between her teeth. “I love you,” she reached forward, brushing those pink and full lips over his, “husband.” She puckered her lips, sealing her words between them. He broke from her lips, kissing lower, making his way down her jaw, her neck, using his thumb to tip her chin back. His other hand ghosted down the silk of her shift, over her side, gripping her hip as she dug her fingers into his shoulders. But as he released his lips from her collarbone her fingers softened and his hand was able to continue down, over her thigh before commencing its return. He gathered the hem of the white shift and slid it up, his calloused hands gently scraping against her milky smooth skin. His thumb brushed over her core and she greedily pushed against it, moaning quietly. He noticed her reaction and did it again, this time a little harder. “Darcy…” YN didn’t seem aware of the word that slipped out with a long sigh. He looked up to her face, again lost in her beauty; her lips slightly parted, eyes shut, her cheeks flushed as her breath came in quick pants. Fitzwilliam moved his thumb in circles against the hardening nub, enjoying her fingers wound tight in his short hair, the moans that were now coming as easily as he was sure to later. He watched as she came undone beneath him, his thumb still circling, pressing against her as he dipped his head to suck at her still covered breast. She arched below him, her hands grabbing at his arm, holding him between her legs. She slid her hand down and over his, guiding his middle finger into her folds, feeling just how wet she was. With one small movement of her leg, she was opened further to him, and his finger plunged into the warmth that she exuded. Her thighs closed around his hand, locking him in place, her fingernails dug into his flesh and his eyes fluttered closed momentarily. “Fitz,” She begged in a breath, her eyes staring deep into his when he looked back at her. The corner of his lips curled up into a smile. With his free hand he pulled the silk away from her breast, exposing her hardened nipple, tracing his lips and nose down her skin before enveloping the rosy bud into his mouth, tongue swirling around it, sucking at it, teeth grazing over the sensitive peak as her hips bucked up, encouraging his finger deeper into her cunt. He began to pump his digit inside her, thumb still circling the bundle of nerves between her lower lips. With one last thrust of his finger, one rougher circle of his thumb, and a cool sigh over her nipple, she was crying his name. Her whole body trembled beneath him and he watched her come undone. YN was more beautiful than he ever thought possible, turning him on more than he’d ever been in his life. The precum leaking from his tip inside his pants, creating a warm, wet spot in the material. He pressed his throbbing erection against her thigh, hoping to relieve some pressure. YN noticed the small movement and smiled lazily, opening her eyes and finding his. “You’re beautiful.” He whispered, pulling himself back to her lips. “And all yours,” she panted, her leg falling open for him to remove his finger and reclaim his hand. She pushed him to his back and straddled him, reaching for the string that held his pants up. Fitzwilliam let out a needy groan when she pulled his cock free from the confines of his trousers, pumping it a few times with her hand. That hand.

Reblog and comment if you liked it, if you didn’t like it, if you were unsure what language I was writing in ... feedback makes the tumblr’verse go round!

Tagging @notnaturalanahi & @room-with-a-cat

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[nerdforestgirl]

The Adolescence Alternative

Chapter Two: Friends

Previous Chapter: Chapter One: Excuses

By the end of the day, Sheldon realized it wasn't the book that made him sneeze. He was getting sick. It wasn't uncommon for him to get sick a few times a year. His immune system wasn't very strong, so he informed his mother that he was ill and went to bed as soon as he got home that afternoon. She brought him some soup for dinner and felt his forehead.

“You are running a fever. You better stay home tomorrow,” Mama told him.

Sheldon nodded.

Mama picked up the copy of Pride and Prejudice and looked it over. She was curious about his choice of reading material. Usually when Sheldon was sick, he reread novelizations of Star Trek or The Hobbit. Those things were comforting to him.

“For school?”

“No. Amy recommended it to me. It's better than I thought it would be. I'm almost done with it,” Sheldon told her.

His mother sighed. He sure was going to a lot of trouble to prove that this girl was supposedly real. She decided not to argue with it. “Enjoy Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy,” she said before kissing him on top of his head and leaving him. He made a complaining noise as he rubbed his forehead where his mother kissed him. All it did was smudge the lipstick left behind.

Sheldon smiled to himself as Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth circled each other. This silliness was exactly what he loved about these kinds of stories. He didn't care for love for himself. Who had the time when one wanted to win a Nobel before thirty? Still, he was a bit of a secret romanic at heart. When he finished the book, he closed it and lie down to sleep. He dreamt of being an aloof landowner and Amy being a spirited young woman he was hopelessly in love with.

Sheldon spent his whole sick day reading Mansfield Park. Amy was right. It wasn't just about romance. It was about betrayal and class. It was also much more interesting than he believed it would be. By the time he finished the book, he couldn't wait to get back to talk to Amy about it. He wondered if this was what having a real friend was like. Maybe this was why his sister went to school even though she hated all of her classes.

When Sheldon was getting ready for school the next day, he decided to pick up his much abused copy of The Hobbit. He shoved it into his bag on his way out.

In biology, Sheldon took his place next to Amy. She was reading like she always did, but she did look up at him and nodded when he took his seat.

“I finished Mansfield Park last night. I was sick,” Sheldon explained.

“Do you want to borrow my notes from yesterday?” Amy asked. She had been surprisingly disappointed when Sheldon wasn't in class the day before. They weren't friends, but his constant bothering her about the book she was reading was almost endearing now.

Sheldon had never borrowed notes from anyone other than a teacher. It was never worth his time to look through another student's work. That was if anyone would even give them over. Sheldon was used to just reading the assigned chapters from when he missed class.

“Uh. Sure,” Sheldon said in just utter surprise at her offer. He was sure he wouldn't use them, but he liked that she even offered. No one offered.

Amy handed over her page of notes from the day before. “Please return it undamaged tomorrow.”

“Sure.” Sheldon scanned it and saw a full page of tiny, neat writing. It was full of not just what the Mr. Davisson said, but also Amy's own insights. Sheldon had never once needed or wanted a tutor, but if he ever needed help in biology, he knew where to go. She possibly understood it more than he did. He decided that he would copy it down. Just in case.

“What did you think of Mansfield Park?”

“It was good. I enjoyed it more than I thought I would,” Sheldon admitted as he looked back up from her meticulous notes. “Oh. Since you showed me your favorite book. I brought you mine.”

“My favorite book? What do you think is my favorite book?” Amy asked. She was sure that she had never even spoken to Sheldon about The Canterbury Tales. Her beloved copy was still packed in a box somewhere.

“Pride and Prejudice?” Sheldon said now unsure as he slid The Hobbit over to Amy.

“That isn't my favorite book.” Amy inspected the well worn copy of The Hobbit. She saw that it was about wizards and dwarves. She was about the hand it back when she saw the hopeful look in Sheldon's eye. The book had to be loved because it was dogeared and a little tattered while belonging to one of the most careful boys she had ever met. As much as she didn't really like the boy in front of her, she didn't want to hurt his feelings. She thanked him and put the book into her bag before class started.

Later that day at lunch, Sheldon was in his usual seat down the table from a few guys he knew from Math Olympics. They weren't bad guys, but Sheldon never actually sat with them. They left him alone for the most part, and he didn't bother them. Other than Amy, they were the closest thing he had to friends.

Speaking of Amy, she suddenly appeared and sat across from him.

“Don't say anything. I just needed a place to eat,” Amy warned before he could even make a sound.

“You don't have lunch this hour?”

“Of course I do. I normally go to the library to eat, but Mr. Smith is out today. The sub wouldn't let me stay. Just let me eat,” Amy assured him. She wouldn't have chosen to eat with Sheldon Cooper, but he was the only person she knew at this lunch hour. Plus he seemed to like her enough to lend her his favorite book. Tomorrow she would go back to the library.

Sheldon shrugged and started into his own sandwich without so much as another word. That was until the guys whom he knew from Math Olympics who shared the table with him started asking questions. They had never seen Sheldon eat lunch with another person.

“Girlfriend, Sheldon?” Howard asked.

“No,” Amy answered for him. “I don't know him.”

“You can come sit with us,” Stuart offered. He wasn't actually on the team with the other guys, but he didn't have other friends. He was also the only one of the guys who didn't have a girlfriend. Well, Raj didn't have a girlfriend, but Sheldon suspected that he didn't want one because he usually didn't shut up about his friend Lincoln, who was a very handsome basketball player. Even Sheldon could see that there was something bigger going on there.

“No,” Sheldon refused on Amy's behalf.

“I can sit where I like, Sheldon,” Amy snapped. She stood up and went to sit next to Stuart. Sheldon felt a pang of what he could only assume was jealousy. That didn't make any sense, but he wanted to punch Stuart right in his jaw. He flexed his fist, but then he just stared at his sandwich. He didn't want a girlfriend. He was above that. He supposed he was just jealous because he thought that Amy was his friend. Well, not friend, but friendly. Then she just went to go have lunch with another boy. Wasn't she his?

“Do you want to come over?” Sheldon blurted suddenly across the table. He was staring right into Amy's eyes. There was no question as to whom he was speaking.

“Come over where?” Amy asked. Did he want her to come back over to his side of the table?

“My house. After school. We could study together,” Sheldon clarified.

“Why would I come over to your house?”

“Because you are my best friend.”

“Your best friend? We barely know each other and I kind of hate you,” Amy answered bluntly. It was true that Sheldon was the only person she talked to most days, but that didn't mean they were friends.

“It's the 'kind of' that makes you my best friend,” he countered with a slightly crooked smile. He was aware that he wasn't the most popular guy, but he wore it as a badge of honor instead of being bothered by it like Amy was. For whatever reason, he was reaching out to her. She thought about it for a moment and decided to reach back. This was the boy who read the books she suggested and handed over a much beloved object without asking anything in return. She supposed they were friends despite her best efforts.

“Fine. Meet me at the bike racks at three,” she muttered.

Sheldon nodded and left to get to English.

Sheldon met Amy right where she suggested after school.

“Hi. Your friends said you are good at calculus. I hate to do this because I don't usually need any help with anything, but could you maybe tutor me a little?” Amy asked when she saw him standing there. She had gotten a lot of background from Sheldon's other friends.

“They aren't my friends, but I would be happy to help you,” Sheldon agreed. He knew that even if he needed to actually explain something to Amy, it wouldn't be a problem. She wasn't one of the idiots who went to their school. He learned over the last few days that she was very bright. Maybe even near his own intelligence.

“I could return the favor. I don't think you need any help in biology, but English? French? American Government?” Amy offered.

“French?” Sheldon asked.

“You need help in French? I can do that. I'm great at French. I spent six months in France last year, and while that wasn't enough for me to be perfect, I can certainly help you get through a high school class. I aced the AP French test last year,” Amy offered.

“Oh. No. I am learning Mandarin,” Sheldon explained.

“Oh,” Amy returned sadly. She hated admitting any weakness to anyone. She really hated admitting it to someone like Sheldon. This boy was brilliant at everything he did. Of course he didn't need any help.

“Maybe you could teach me a little anyway,” Sheldon suggested. Languages were not his strong suit, and he always thought that they were one of the few things he couldn't just learn from a book.

“Sure,” Amy agreed. “Are those guys really not your friends? They seemed nice enough, and that guy Leonard seemed to know a fair amount about you,” Amy asked as she bent down to unlock her bike.

“They don't like me. No one does,” Sheldon admitted. This time he wasn't really bragging about it the way he had in the cafeteria.

“I don't think that's true. I think that they would talk to you if you sat with them. They are pretty nice,” Amy told him. They were nicer to her than anyone else had been since she got to this school. She promised that she would sit with them again the next day.

Sheldon shrugged, and they both let the subject drop. Sheldon took the handlebars of Amy's bike to wheel it to his house for her. He was strictly a walker to and from school. Missy had been hinting about a car, but Sheldon was sure if she got one, he would still walk. He couldn't imagine that he would ever feel safe in a car with his sister.

“My mom will probably be home. She works part time at our church, but she's almost always home on Thursday afternoons. I'm sure she will question you about your parents and where you go to church. I apologize in advance for that.”

“I don't go to church. We aren't usually anywhere long enough to see the point in joining a community,” Amy admitted. She wasn't sure how she personally felt about religion. She read enough about various faiths, but none seemed to hold the answers she was looking for.

“How many times have you moved?” Sheldon asked. He had lived here all of his life. He wondered what it would be like to travel the world.

“Fourteen times. This is my fourth high school. My parents are trying to let me stay here for my senior year even if Dad gets transferred again. I'd rather not. Maybe we can move back to Lyon if I'm meant to just live in one place for a while. I miss France,” Amy admitted.

“You could stay here. You have friends here,” Sheldon told her. He really meant that she was his friend. He hated the idea of her leaving town again. Even if they had only been speaking for about a week. He wasn't lying about her being his best friend. Well, perhaps his grandmother was his best friend, but Amy was second.

“Don't tell my parents that,” Amy joked, but she liked that Sheldon seemed to want her to stay. Maybe she didn't exactly hate him. She was going to his house after all.

The pair quietly walked the rest of the way to Sheldon's house. Sheldon put Amy's bike in the shed next to his house so his dad wouldn't run it over when he got home from work. Then he led her to his door. He had never once had a friend over to his house, so he wasn't sure what to do now.

“Mama, I'm home,” Sheldon called. Amy smiled that the boy called his mother “Mama.”

“Hey, Shelly,” Mama stopped short and her jaw nearly dropped when she saw Sheldon standing in the doorway with a girl.

“Hello, Mrs. Cooper,” Amy muttered.

“Mama, this is my friend, Amy Fowler,” Sheldon introduced. He would have gloated to his mother that the girl was, in fact, real if not for the fact that he did not want to reveal to Amy that his mother thought it wasn't possible for him to make friends.

“It's so strange when people don't include my middle name,” Amy muttered. It was the first time Sheldon had called her by her full name.

“What?” Sheldon asked.

“At home, I'm Amy Farrah Fowler. My mother is also Amy, so everyone includes my middle name when speaking to or about me at home. Only teachers usually call me Amy Fowler.”

“Oh. Mama, this is Amy Farrah Fowler,” Sheldon corrected himself automatically.

“It's nice to meet you, Amy Farrah Fowler,” Mrs. Cooper said as she reached out to shake the girl's hand. “Can I get you something to eat?”

Amy was about to refuse when Sheldon said that he was starving. He started taking off his windbreaker and took Amy's jacket to hang on the hook next to his. Then he followed his mother into the kitchen while urging Amy to follow.

Mrs. Cooper practically fixed them an entire feast. She put out trays of cheese and crackers, a pitcher of sweet tea, a plate of fruit.

“Anything you'd like, dear?” Mrs. Cooper asked Amy as she inspected the fridge.

“Anything is fine. I'm allergic to avocados though,” Amy said quietly. She didn't want to be a bother.

“Alright. I'll make sure to keep that in mind when I'm fixing dinner. You're staying for dinner, right?” Mary asked cheerfully.

“I'll have to call my mother,” Amy said. She actually realized that she needed to check in anyway because Mother would be worried about Amy not coming home right after school.

“Phone's right there,” Mrs. Cooper told Amy.

Amy called her mother, but she was embarrassed that Mother asked to speak to Mrs. Cooper. Amy handed over the phone to prove that she was still under the observation of an adult. She expected Mother to only speak to Mrs. Cooper for a moment, but the women started chatting about a number of things. Amy shrugged at Sheldon and he just used his head to indicate that Amy should join him at the table where he had already eaten a surprising amount of the food his mother provided.

Amy picked at the plate of fruit and cheese. Sheldon poured her a glass of sweet tea and pushed it at her before he set to work on calculus.

“You understand this,” Sheldon said as he finished helping Amy go over a third set. He didn't think she needed his assistance, and he wondered if she chose to ask for help just to have an excuse to hang out. Not that he could blame her.

“I always think I do, but I only received a 85% on my last exam,” Amy admitted. It was the only class where she did not currently have an A.

“Hmm. Perhaps it's a lack of confidence,” Sheldon suggested. He found that he liked Amy even more now that he knew how smart she was. Even where she felt she needed work, it seemed that she was exceptionally bright. He had not done poorly when he picked a fake girlfriend. If he was a different kind of person, he might even want her to be his real girlfriend. That was completely hypothetical, of course, Sheldon thought as he tried to suss out her eye color.

“Your mama says it's just fine if you stay for dinner, but she is going to come pick you up right at seven,” Sheldon's mother told Amy while Sheldon showed Amy how to play a card game she had never heard of before. The pair of teenagers had given up on studying pretty quickly because Sheldon didn't usually have friends over. He could study whenever. He could only play this game if he bribed his brother or sister to join him.

Mystic Lords of Ka'a was not something that Amy had ever heard of before, but once she got the hang of it, she put down three winning hands in a row. After that Sheldon decided to redirect them to video games until dinner was ready.

Sheldon's parents didn't act as if it was so strange for Sheldon to have a little friend over. The other two kids had friends over for dinner all the time. Sheldon, not so much. They didn't want to scare her off. Junior didn't get the memo.

“Is this your girlfriend, nerd?” Junior asked as he helped himself to what Amy thought was an outrageous amount of food. There was no way he could possibly finish, right? And she thought Sheldon ate a lot.

“She is a girl and she is a friend. She is not my girlfriend,” Sheldon explained without any emotion coloring his tone.

“So, she's available?” Junior asked with a wink to Amy. Amy looked to Sheldon to try to figure out what to do. Normally she would just say no and move on with it, but this was Sheldon's family.

“No. She's not for you,” Sheldon told his brother fiercely.

“Alright, bro. I won't hit on your girlfriend,” Junior said with hands up to signal surrender.

Amy waited for Sheldon clarify again that she was not his girlfriend. Instead Sheldon just nodded his thanks and set back into eating his dinner. Amy was sure that Sheldon thought that he didn't explain again, but a little part of her wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Then she chastised herself for that thought. She didn't stay anywhere long enough for boys, and even if she did, Sheldon Cooper was not her type. He might be intelligent and cute and funny, but he was still a pompous ass. Amy didn't like him. She was sure.

Amy's mother was not even a minute late picking her up after dinner. She also seemed to inspect Sheldon as he effortlessly lifted Amy's bike to put in the trunk of Mrs. Fowler's car, but he must have looked enough like a safe nerd that even Amy's mother couldn't find fault. Amy thanked him for the afternoon, and left.

[obscurelysevere]

Taco bout it

1:Talk about the first time you watched your favorite movie. I have two. The first one (Jurassic World) was a kind-of-date with a guy that I went to high school with that I saw again at the gun shop. The second one (Deadpool) was delayed because my sister and I were rescuing a coyote that got hit by a car and was just lying in the middle of the road. We ended up having to see Star Wars because DP was all sold out. So it wasn’t a loss, we just had to watch DP at a later date. 2:Talk about your first kiss. It was middle school. He tasted like Pepsi. We were at the movies watching Wicker Man (TERRIBLE MOVIE). It was my first time ‘making out’ and it was awkward as hell. Way too much tongue.

3:Talk about the person you’ve had the most intense romantic feelings for. We met through a mutual friend. We ended up in a garage band together. The first night we kissed played out like a movie. It was one of the most romantic nights I have ever had. We didn’t want our friend to feel awkward though, so we hid our relationship from him for a while, though I think he had a pretty good idea of what was going on. It just kind of became the elephant in the room.

4:Talk about the thing you regret most so far. Having my Whipple surgery in August 2016. It has completely messed up my entire life; turned it upside down and savagely shaken in. I don’t think I’ll ever be the same after that. I was so ill-informed. If I knew then what I knew now, there’s no way in hell I would ever go through with it. You couldn’t even pay me to do it. 5:Talk about the best birthday you’ve had. Wow. I don’t know if I can choose! I love every birthday I’ve ever had in North Carolina. Especially the one that I spent the night in a haunted school. I loved the whale watching trip I went on in San Diego when I turned 20. I had a blast going to the drag club with my only friend in San Diego when I was 21. When I turned 23 and went to the World Wildlife Zoo & Aquarium and the Cheesecake factory, I felt so good. So yeah, it’s pretty tough to talk about just one.

6:Talk about the worst birthday you’ve had. This past one. I was too sick from the surgery, I couldn’t celebrate at all. And my mom was so stressed with taking me back and forth to the hospital that she didn’t have time to prepare in any way. I had to delay it and I still haven’t entirely celebrated it. :/

7:Talk about your biggest insecurity. My chin and my forehead. I feel like they’re more masculine features. And I was teased about them relentlessly in middle school and sometimes online by strangers. And my teeth. I can’t go to a dentist because it’s too expensive and my insurance is being a bitch about covering it.

8:Talk about the thing you are most proud of. There are several times I could have lied down and given up, just been finished with life. And my parents would let me go if that's what I truly wanted. But I keep getting back up to my feet, and I keep moving forward, because I feel like I have so much I have to do in this world before I leave it.

9:Talk about little things on your body that you like the most. My eyes. My legs. My tattoos.

10:Talk about the biggest fight you’ve ever had. I had a physical altercation with my father about 7 or so years ago. But I also had a massive falling out with my best friend, and we didn’t talk to each other for several months, but I finally caved because I love her too much to just let her go. And I know we’re better together than apart.

11:Talk about the best dream you’ve ever had. Wow. The ones where I’ve found love, and where I belong.

12:Talk about the worst dream you’ve ever had. When I was younger, like 3, I had this dream that my mom was trapped in a coma in this translucent coffin outside of the grocery store and no matter how I screamed for her, she wouldn’t wake up. And more recently, I had a fever dream where I was trapped in a house I lived in when I was younger, and it was nighttime and there were these man-animal creatures stalking around and howling outside. It doesn’t sound so terrifying now, but when I think about it, I start to feel physically ill.

13:Talk about the first time you had sex/how you imagine your first time. HAH. It was awkward as hell. It was in my parents’ garage. My mom walked in, and I bolted half-naked out the back door, leaving my boyfriend at the time, to pull his pants up, and face my mother. Sometimes I think it doesn’t count, but I suppose that it does. Kind of.

14:Talk about a vacation. Going to North Carolina. It’s the other place in this world that I truly feel at home. Every time I visit, it’s always the absolute best.

15:Talk about the time you were most content in life. I’m not even sure when that was. Maybe when I was playing in the waves in St. Pete, FL with my mom just an hour before we had to fly back home. It was so spontaneous and it felt so good.

16:Talk about the best party you’ve ever been to. My costume parties were always fun. But hands down, the parties I’ve had with my relatives in North Carolina.

17:Talk about someone you want to be friends with. Jenna Marbles. I think we’d have a blast together. We both have a crazy similar sense of humor.

18:Talk about something that happened in elementary school. I met my best friend. (:

19:Talk about something that happened in middle school. I hiked 10 miles into the Grand Canyon to Havasupai with my class.

20:Talk about something that happened in high school. A kid poked me in the side where my gall bladder was and I had to have emergency surgery to have it removed. I don’t think that kid ever got that trauma out of his mind. Lol.

21:Talk about a time you had to turn someone down. I’ve only turned people down that I’ve met online. Because there’s a lot of baggage that comes with all of them that I never want to deal with.

22:Talk about your worst fear. Dying. I can’t imagine being without my parents, or my babies. I don’t want to leave them. It’s terrifying. What if I’m all alone in the end?

23:Talk about a time someone turned you down. I went to a movie with a guy and after he dropped me off at home, I told him that I really liked him and he told me that he wasn’t in a place where he wanted to be dating. He started going with another girl a couple days later.

24:Talk about something someone told you that meant a lot. When @anoddityofsorts asked me to be her maid of honor. It meant the world to me to be there for her like that.

25:Talk about an ex-best friend. We became more than best friends at one point, but then later they told me that they were just using me to get by, until they could get more friends, and now that they had more, they didn’t need me anymore.

26:Talk about things you do when you’re sick. Sleep. Binge-watch shows. Cuddle with my kids.

27:Talk about your favorite part of someone else’s body. I love hips. Especially when they have a distinct V. Mmm.

28:Talk about your fetishes. I don’t think I really have fetishes so much as things that really turn me on. Like biting. :3

29:Talk about what turns you on. A good sense of humor, a love of animals and family, biting, hard breathing, tickling (the stroking kind), good hygiene, muscles, being fit, a little cockiness, intelligence.

30:Talk about what turns you off. Arrogance, ignorance, neediness, clinginess, family issues, huge egos, spouting random bullshit, being overly shy.

31:Talk about what you think death is like. I think it’s utterly terrifying, until you finally make it to the other side. And from there, I think it’s whatever you make it to be. It’s never the same for everybody.

32:Talk about a place you remember from your childhood. My ‘haunted house’. It was a pile of boulders in the forest about a mile from the house I was living in.

33:Talk about what you do when you are sad. Talk to my mom.

34:Talk about the worst physical pain you’ve endured. This bizarre pain that I’ve been experiencing in my lower back/abdomen since the surgery in August.

35:Talk about things you wish you could stop doing. HURTING.

36:Talk about your guilty pleasures. I don’t really feel guilty about anything that brings me happiness.

37:Talk about someone you thought you were in love with. My second boyfriend. I was definitely infatuated, but now I know that I was definitely not ‘in love’.

38:Talk about songs that remind you of certain people. Wow. Lifehouse’s first album reminds me of the first person I ever role-played with. So does Blue October. Skillet’s first album reminds me of my writing partner, who helped me write one of the main characters in my novels.

39:Talk about things you wish you’d known earlier. The recovery process of this surgery.

40:Talk about the end of something in your life. When my dad moved to North Carolina. My heart was absolutely broken that he was ‘leaving’ the family. I still struggle with it, but it’s kind of become the norm. No matter how hard it is after he visits and has to head back East.

41. Talk about the most romantic moment in your life. Again, with the first person I really ever loved. We were in his car after going to a Harry Potter premier. We talked until 5 in the morning, about everything. It was November, so it was cold, and his hands were freezing. So I cupped them in my hands and breathed hot air to warm them up. We were getting increasingly closer to each other, until our eyes met, and we just kissed. I’ve never had butterflies like I did then.

42. Talk about your ultimate favorite song, and the story behind it. ‘The Power of Love’ from Sailor Moon. It’s such an uplifting and empowering song and it never fails to make me think of @anoddityofsorts, and all the good times we’ve had rocking out to that song. Especially at her wedding. Though I’m pretty sure all that dancing just about killed me. Lol.

[konsuella]

BLOG TOUR: You Out of Nowhere by Jay E. Tria

Good morning! Last Monday, we started the Blog Tour of Jay E Tria’s new book entitled You Out of Nowhere. Today, I’m sharing with you an excerpt and other bits of information you need to know about this wonderfully written book! Enjoy!! <3 

You Out of Nowhere by Jay E. Tria Flair #1 At 31, Kris’s dating life is starting to resemble a reality show. So when she strikes up a conversation with a nerdy but gorgeous stranger on the train, getting serious is the last thing on her mind. Been there, done that, and she has the emotional baggage to prove it.At 24, Ringo knows what he wants—and when a train flirtation turns into a night he can’t forget, he knows he wants Kris. But it’s clear she has other plans, and they don��t include him. So when they find themselves on the same flight to Seoul, it’s Ringo’s chance to turn up the heat, and convince Kris to take a risk. In a new city, with someone new—the right someone—what could change? Maybe nothing. But also, maybe everything.

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: November 4, 2017

Photography: Chi Yu Rodriguez

Cover Design: Miles Tan

Models: Bibo Reyes & Celine Bengzon

Get You Out of Nowhere on Amazon

Add it on Goodreads

Trainman November 11, Friday Kris He was reading Pride and Prejudice. What guy does that? And in public too, inside a packed metro rail train South-bound on a Friday night. I lucked on a seat by some karmic miracle, though standing squished among the mass of passengers seemed like the better idea than what I had now, my wide-ass hips crushed between the hard plastic seat’s edge and the woman beside me. I hated commuting. I hated trains. I hated the co-ed cars of the train the most, especially during rush hour. And rush hour these days was taking on that distinctive stench of holiday panic, as it usually did in the middle of November in this Christmas-loving country. I had come from Quezon City and had to jump into the first train car that could fit me, running late as I was for this obligation all the way in Makati. Obligation. Okay. Heh. My best friend Daisy would kill me if she heard my brain, after all the things she had done for me these past few years, air quotes, air quotes. I looked up from my phone again, straining a look at the guy standing in front of me. He was gripping the steel railing above his head like a lifeline, which did me the favor of seeing his flexed biceps. He had a lean arm, decorated by faint lines of snaking veins, muscular in a way that was not at all rude. It wasn’t hard to notice its very pleasing personality, swathed though it was by the sleeves of his striped black-and-white button-up shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows (thank you, god), in crisp, deliberate folds rising past toned forearms. I always thought that wardrobe move was both rugged and responsible. I inched my gaze up his exposed skin, searching for tattoos. No trace of ink thus far. A bit disappointing. My eyes travelled back down to his book. His edition was small, thick, and pink. Dog-eared and covered in plastic, the way one does to school books to make them last the year. I dared look up as far as his nose, noting the tiny bump along the steepest part of the straight bone. I counted the lines marring his forehead as he kept it scrunched, taking care to miss his eyes should he look up from the pages, and decided he couldn’t be reading this romance classic for school. Not even for college literature class. With his pressed shirt, nice watch, and tapered charcoal slacks, he looked like a corporate boy. A young, well-dressed one at that. Early twenties, easy. I’d learned from a string of stiff, boring dates that I didn’t like corporate boys much. Nor had I ever been inclined to go through the fun yet rickety ride of dating younger. Those two things at least kept me from crushing too hard on this hot stranger and his intense occupation with only one of the best love stories ever known to womankind. “I am very fond of walking.” “Sorry?” Shit. Did I say that out loud? I flicked my gaze up and got my answer. Corporate Boy was staring back at me, eyebrows lifted, mouth threatening the smile that was already crinkling his eyes. Yes, I said that out loud. And yes, okay, now I knew he had kind biceps and a beautiful face. Man, this was painful. I cleared my throat and tried a smile instead of pretending I hadn’t heard him, since I was a grown up like that. “I was trying to remember if that was only a line from the movie or if it’s also in the book.” “Oh. I think it’s just from the movie.” His brow wrinkled some more. His forehead looked like a map of waves now. “I should know that, the many times I have read this.” “Your favorite book?” He pursed his lips, blinked a few times, and turned to me again. Plump, just-bitten lips. Deep, dark eyes. A feathery fringe of lashes. Why so pretty, mister stranger? “You do not know me so you can’t judge me,” his baritone voice drawled. “So I’m going to be honest and say it’s high up there.” “Okay.” “My ready answer is that I’m reading it to help my sister write her book report, and that’s also true.” No, my goodness. Stop it. Shut up. “Do you like it too?” He didn’t seem to have noticed I was having mild palpitations over here, thanks to the hot-guy-who-reads-and-dotes-on-sister fantasy reel he’d conjured in my head. I tucked a stray curl away from my cheek, pinched the inside of my wrist and forced my mouth to make words. “Oh, I’m in love with Mr. Darcy. My friend says half my dates didn’t work out because I was expecting them to be brooding yet sensitive and to own both a heart of gold and half of Derbyshire. Or you know, Derbyshire’s contemporary equivalent in the Philippines.” Wonderful. I was now babbling to a beautiful stranger on the train about my book boyfriend and my complete inability to keep a real one. Daisy would sock her fist inside my mouth and store it there for safekeeping if she knew. He didn’t laugh, or worm through the sweaty, sticky, after-office train crowd to get as far away as possible from me, Weirdo Train Lady. The smile settled in his eyes, rumpling the corners. “That’s too bad,” he said, and nothing else. He went back to reading. I wanted to demand what that meant. Too bad, what, sir? He’s a stranger he’s a stranger he’s a stranger. I had to force a chorus of those words to drill the reminder in my head. Why should I care what this guy thought about my love life? Too many people I knew already had loud, decisive opinions about it anyway. No need to add another critic. I turned my glare to my phone as it lit up with Daisy’s text. You better be walking up the mall already. I could hear every note of aggression in each perfectly spelled word. She was antsy and nervous, more so that I could psyche myself out to be, since I had categorized this night’s activity as yes, an obligation. She was my best friend and she cared a bit too much about me. I was doomed to love her for it. Do I lie? My thumbs hovered over the screen, preparing to type a reply. I was two stations and a 20-minute walk away from where she wanted me to be. The only difference between telling the truth and telling her what she wanted to hear was that if I gave her the latter, she’d be all the less anxious. I should be a good friend and do what good friends do. The train ground to a halt, sending my left side crashing against the steel railing as the woman beside me hoisted herself up and barreled through the crowd to the opening door. My phone dropped to my lap as I focused on breathing through what felt like three broken ribs, and on swallowing the little oaths lined up in my throat, itching for release. Another jolt, a swoosh of fine fabric and warm skin beside me, and the train was rumbling away again. “You should breathe.” I did—a long pull of musty, sweat-drenched air—before turning to Corporate Boy who was now settled to my right. “Thanks. I forget sometimes.” The smile inched up his mouth this time. And he really shouldn’t have done that, because now I knew his mouth was beautiful too. “I haven’t been on a date for going on a year.” The words came out of his lips sounding rehearsed, as if he’d spent the past few minutes assembling them in his head. “Too bad?” I dared, eyebrow hitching. “There you go.” He laughed, short and quiet. I barely heard the sound. “Now we’re even and I can go back to reading with a clear conscience.” He didn’t though. His book was folded inside his palm and he was looking straight ahead. It couldn’t be a good view. A man was standing in front of him, hands gripping and body hanging from the handrails, looming over him like a grimy shadow. “How many more stations for you?” He turned to me. He seemed to have made the decision that my face was a better sight than the man’s sweat-stained Keep Calm and Eat Bacon t-shirt. The train was crawling into Buendia station. I expected the lurching stop this time. I gripped the metal bar beside me for leverage. “Getting off on the next. You?” “Same.” He breathed in once. Again. He was sitting so close I could feel it brush my ear, could feel it send static through my unruly locks. I could swear I caught him staring at my long, curly hair as strands lifted with his breaths, as if he wanted to sweep them away. I know, I know, it’s a mess. But grooming beyond the basic social requirement is pointless in commute hell. His gaze dropped back to his book as his fingers pried the worn pages open. Huh. I expected more words. Just as well. My mother always said not to talk to strangers. She might have mentioned a special clause for the hot ones who read romantic books and weren’t ashamed of it. Those rare ones were sure to be serial killers. Sometimes I wish I could strangle the voice of my mother that lurked within the recesses of my head. The many rules and don’ts she’d planted in me. I was in my thirties and still they were there, stamped where I couldn’t wash them off with beers or bury under hours spent out beyond midnight. I shouldn’t be blaming Mr. Darcy. I should be blaming her for my present disinterest in committing to a man. You love your mother you love your mother you love your mother. I was humming the words, making myself spurt out laughter. After forbidding me to have a boyfriend all through my school years, my mother was now all out with Daisy on fixing this aspect of my life. Fixing, they dared call it. As if I had a leaking pipe. As if crossing over to thirty flipped a button that made a dashing man and a marriage pour out from heaven. Never mind that I had a business I loved and friends who got me. Oh no, it wasn’t enough, because my mother needed grandchildren. I made the mistake of turning to my right, because Corporate Boy was staring at me, eyebrows raised. “What?” I demanded. “Never seen a woman laugh to herself before?” He seemed surprised, but also ready to answer. But the train made another awful stagger, screeching to a full stop. I craned my neck to look out the grubby window, as the voice crackling through the speakers confirmed my worst fears. “The train ahead of us is having technical difficulties. We will wait here until it can depart from Ayala station. Please remain seated. Good evening and apologies to all.” “Who the fuck is seated?” someone yelled out from the mass of bodies. “You tell them, sir,” Corporate Boy cheered. “Right on,” I seconded the motion. Corporate Boy and I settled deeper into our hard plastic seats. A moment later he was sighing out a gust of wind. “I’m in so much trouble.” “Yeah?” My phone lit up again. I didn’t dare read it. “Big date? Shit, sorry. That was prying.” “It’s okay. I also suck at small talk.” “Hey!” He laughed. This time I heard it, deep and bright and full to bursting. I felt it shake inside his chest, his arm sharing the tremors with mine. “Yes, it’s a date, and a setup too,” he said. “Looks like my awful streak is a solid one.” “Don’t worry. One look at you and she’ll be a puddle on the floor.” Okay, I just told him I thought he was hot. The trick to fix such a mistake, I’d learned, was to keep my eyes averted until I could mumble out better, less embarrassing words. “I mean, it looks like you made the effort. That’s a nice shirt.” He was smiling. I heard it. “I like your shirt too.” “You know them?” I brushed my hair away and looked down at the shirt in question. I was wearing the name of a recent favorite local band. Excitement washed over my shame and I tipped my head to look at him. “They’re not very mainstream, but they have an old school sound that I miss with all of these EDM hits ruining the world.” As if the train driver were my personal fairy, the speakers started booming out a stale Chainsmokers song. “Like this piece of catchy shit.” I started singing out the words, just to get it out of my brain before it embedded itself into a week-long Last Song Syndrome. “Are you going to a gig?” It was my turn to laugh. A gig, a blind date. What was the difference anyway? I could very well be an old, jaded vocalist, fed up with the same old music playing, with how each night would end with me exhausted and unsatisfied and leaving the bar alone. I should try this analogy with both Daisy and my mother after tonight. “Sure. It’s my final gig, at least for a while. Because I’m so tired of these things not working out.” “Is it a sound system problem, or a crowd control situation—?” “It’s a me problem. I suck at gigs.” His gaze found my mouth and my blood rushed to the space under the skin of my cheeks. He caught my gaze. His eyes weren’t black as I first thought, but a deep, rich brown. I saw alarm flit there for a second. One blink and it was gone. I took that as my turn to steer this small talk at which we both suck. “So, who’s the monster that set you up?” “My boss.” He chuckled at the sympathetic gaze I fixed him. “She has her rare, more, er, charitable moments. I’m trying to not feel too weird about it. I guess she took pity on me.” “Have you been very pitiful lately?” “I guess. I’ve been drinking a lot the past few months, I am nearly incapable of getting drunk now.” I let out a short whistle. “Congrats. Your liver is now steel on the outside, rotting on the inside.” “I’ve stopped, okay.” He looked part amused, part worried. Part proud. “I am too young to die. All my hopes and dreams can’t go to waste.” What a serious man he was. “Sounds like you have plenty.” He shrugged, massive shoulders lifting. His shadow loomed over me when he was standing, and beside me now, he had to dip his chin a few inches so he could catch my eyes. For someone talking to a stranger, he sure made a habit of maintaining eye contact. “I hope this girl I’m meeting tonight is nice,” his voice rumbled. “Because I really want to get married someday.” “First date and you’re thinking about marriage?” My voice might have risen to a squeak a little bit. “I’m going in with a goal in mind,” he said, sharp jaw set. “How old are you?” I surprised myself at daring to ask him his age. I didn’t think I’d get a reply. “Twenty-four, turning twenty-five.” Ah, the quarter-life crisis. My ex-boyfriend Adam and I used to talk about getting married at 25. The age passed us and we didn’t, because we both realized we were still kids hitting wall after wall with our inflated little heads, confident and ambitious but naïve with no idea what we really wanted. Three years past that age, he dumped me. A year later, he married someone else. I guess he figured out his life then. “That’s not too young to get married.” Corporate Boy seemed to have read my silence as judgment. That was partly true, fine, I admit it. Beyond that I was puzzled. And curious. “I hope you’re not measuring yourself against Lizzie Bennet,” I quipped, keeping a straight face. “At least look to Mr. Darcy. He was older.” “I am capable of heading a household.” His tone was flat but he didn’t sound annoyed. “Sure you are. Everything about you reeks of stable income and a complete roster of fancy benefits. I just pity the girl you’re meeting tonight. What if she just wants to fool around, you know? Toe you under the table. Make out with you in the car. That kind of a simple life.” I’d turned away but I swear I could feel his eyes on my mouth again. It must be a new superpower. I hoped my lipstick was as matte and long-wearing as the tube promised. “My boss knows where I am. She said she found me the perfect girl.” I scowled. “There is no such girl.” “Okay, okay, you’re right, I take it back,” he said, palms up. He ran one hand down his face, as if he felt worn out. “I meant a girl who might want something lasting too, instead of just footsies and kissing. Though I’m not against any of that.” “Why would you be?” I wished the train would leave now, because I treasured Daisy and I really didn’t want her to end up in prison for strangling me for being so late. Also because I knew if we stayed still like this any longer, Corporate Boy would start asking me questions. Surely he’d retaliate for my terrible small talk. I also wished the train would stall for a few minutes longer. Because Corporate Boy was gorgeous and his shirt felt good against my bare arm, and it had been a while since I’d wanted to figure out the spaces between a man’s words the way I did with his. I blamed it on his friendship with Mr. Darcy.

About the Author

Jay E. Tria is inspired by daydreams, celebrity crushes, a childhood fascination of Japanese drama and manga, and an incessant itch to travel. She writes contemporary young adult and new adult romance. Sometimes, paranormal fantasy too.

Visit her website www.jayetria.com.

Email: jayetria@gmail.com

Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Wattpad: jayetria

[bentchcreates]

Behold one of the most anticipated #romanceclass releases this year! The first installment to the #romanceclassFlair line featuring Filipino romance in English with  🔥 🔥 🔥!

Here’s the cover:

Gorgeous, right? heehee

Photography: Chi Yu Rodriguez Cover Design: Miles Tan Models: Bibo Reyes & Celine Bengzon

If the photos and synopsis aren’t enough for you to buy the book here: https://www.amazon.com/You-Out-Nowhere-Flair-1-ebook/dp/B076YQ241K , here’s an excerpt that’ll make it impossible for you to pass up! ;)

Trainman

November 11, Friday Kris He was reading Pride and Prejudice. What guy does that? And in public too, inside a packed metro rail train South-bound on a Friday night. I lucked on a seat by some karmic miracle, though standing squished among the mass of passengers seemed like the better idea than what I had now, my wide-ass hips crushed between the hard plastic seat’s edge and the woman beside me. I hated commuting. I hated trains. I hated the co-ed cars of the train the most, especially during rush hour. And rush hour these days was taking on that distinctive stench of holiday panic, as it usually did in the middle of November in this Christmas-loving country. I had come from Quezon City and had to jump into the first train car that could fit me, running late as I was for this obligation all the way in Makati. Obligation. Okay. Heh. My best friend Daisy would kill me if she heard my brain, after all the things she had done for me these past few years, air quotes, air quotes. I looked up from my phone again, straining a look at the guy standing in front of me. He was gripping the steel railing above his head like a lifeline, which did me the favor of seeing his flexed biceps. He had a lean arm, decorated by faint lines of snaking veins, muscular in a way that was not at all rude. It wasn’t hard to notice its very pleasing personality, swathed though it was by the sleeves of his striped black-and-white button-up shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows (thank you, god), in crisp, deliberate folds rising past toned forearms. I always thought that wardrobe move was both rugged and responsible. I inched my gaze up his exposed skin, searching for tattoos. No trace of ink thus far. A bit disappointing. My eyes travelled back down to his book. His edition was small, thick, and pink. Dog-eared and covered in plastic, the way one does to school books to make them last the year. I dared look up as far as his nose, noting the tiny bump along the steepest part of the straight bone. I counted the lines marring his forehead as he kept it scrunched, taking care to miss his eyes should he look up from the pages, and decided he couldn’t be reading this romance classic for school. Not even for college literature class. With his pressed shirt, nice watch, and tapered charcoal slacks, he looked like a corporate boy. A young, well-dressed one at that. Early twenties, easy. I’d learned from a string of stiff, boring dates that I didn’t like corporate boys much. Nor had I ever been inclined to go through the fun yet rickety ride of dating younger. Those two things at least kept me from crushing too hard on this hot stranger and his intense occupation with only one of the best love stories ever known to womankind. “I am very fond of walking.” “Sorry?” Shit. Did I say that out loud? I flicked my gaze up and got my answer. Corporate Boy was staring back at me, eyebrows lifted, mouth threatening the smile that was already crinkling his eyes. Yes, I said that out loud. And yes, okay, now I knew he had kind biceps and a beautiful face. Man, this was painful. I cleared my throat and tried a smile instead of pretending I hadn’t heard him, since I was a grown up like that. “I was trying to remember if that was only a line from the movie or if it’s also in the book.” “Oh. I think it’s just from the movie.” His brow wrinkled some more. His forehead looked like a map of waves now. “I should know that, the many times I have read this.” “Your favorite book?” He pursed his lips, blinked a few times, and turned to me again. Plump, just-bitten lips. Deep, dark eyes. A feathery fringe of lashes. Why so pretty, mister stranger? “You do not know me so you can’t judge me,” his baritone voice drawled. “So I’m going to be honest and say it’s high up there.” “Okay.” “My ready answer is that I’m reading it to help my sister write her book report, and that’s also true.” No, my goodness. Stop it. Shut up. “Do you like it too?” He didn’t seem to have noticed I was having mild palpitations over here, thanks to the hot-guy-who-reads-and-dotes-on-sister fantasy reel he’d conjured in my head. I tucked a stray curl away from my cheek, pinched the inside of my wrist and forced my mouth to make words. “Oh, I’m in love with Mr. Darcy. My friend says half my dates didn’t work out because I was expecting them to be brooding yet sensitive and to own both a heart of gold and half of Derbyshire. Or you know, Derbyshire’s contemporary equivalent in the Philippines.” Wonderful. I was now babbling to a beautiful stranger on the train about my book boyfriend and my complete inability to keep a real one. Daisy would sock her fist inside my mouth and store it there for safekeeping if she knew. He didn’t laugh, or worm through the sweaty, sticky, after-office train crowd to get as far away as possible from me, Weirdo Train Lady. The smile settled in his eyes, rumpling the corners. “That’s too bad,” he said, and nothing else. He went back to reading. I wanted to demand what that meant. Too bad, what, sir? He’s a stranger he’s a stranger he’s a stranger. I had to force a chorus of those words to drill the reminder in my head. Why should I care what this guy thought about my love life? Too many people I knew already had loud, decisive opinions about it anyway. No need to add another critic. I turned my glare to my phone as it lit up with Daisy’s text. You better be walking up the mall already. I could hear every note of aggression in each perfectly spelled word. She was antsy and nervous, more so that I could psyche myself out to be, since I had categorized this night’s activity as yes, an obligation. She was my best friend and she cared a bit too much about me. I was doomed to love her for it. Do I lie? My thumbs hovered over the screen, preparing to type a reply. I was two stations and a 20-minute walk away from where she wanted me to be. The only difference between telling the truth and telling her what she wanted to hear was that if I gave her the latter, she’d be all the less anxious. I should be a good friend and do what good friends do. The train ground to a halt, sending my left side crashing against the steel railing as the woman beside me hoisted herself up and barreled through the crowd to the opening door. My phone dropped to my lap as I focused on breathing through what felt like three broken ribs, and on swallowing the little oaths lined up in my throat, itching for release. Another jolt, a swoosh of fine fabric and warm skin beside me, and the train was rumbling away again. “You should breathe.” I did—a long pull of musty, sweat-drenched air—before turning to Corporate Boy who was now settled to my right. “Thanks. I forget sometimes.” The smile inched up his mouth this time. And he really shouldn’t have done that, because now I knew his mouth was beautiful too. “I haven’t been on a date for going on a year.” The words came out of his lips sounding rehearsed, as if he’d spent the past few minutes assembling them in his head. “Too bad?” I dared, eyebrow hitching. “There you go.” He laughed, short and quiet. I barely heard the sound. “Now we’re even and I can go back to reading with a clear conscience.” He didn’t though. His book was folded inside his palm and he was looking straight ahead. It couldn’t be a good view. A man was standing in front of him, hands gripping and body hanging from the handrails, looming over him like a grimy shadow. “How many more stations for you?” He turned to me. He seemed to have made the decision that my face was a better sight than the man’s sweat-stained Keep Calm and Eat Bacon t-shirt. The train was crawling into Buendia station. I expected the lurching stop this time. I gripped the metal bar beside me for leverage. “Getting off on the next. You?” “Same.” He breathed in once. Again. He was sitting so close I could feel it brush my ear, could feel it send static through my unruly locks. I could swear I caught him staring at my long, curly hair as strands lifted with his breaths, as if he wanted to sweep them away. I know, I know, it’s a mess. But grooming beyond the basic social requirement is pointless in commute hell. His gaze dropped back to his book as his fingers pried the worn pages open. Huh. I expected more words. Just as well. My mother always said not to talk to strangers. She might have mentioned a special clause for the hot ones who read romantic books and weren’t ashamed of it. Those rare ones were sure to be serial killers. Sometimes I wish I could strangle the voice of my mother that lurked within the recesses of my head. The many rules and don’ts she’d planted in me. I was in my thirties and still they were there, stamped where I couldn’t wash them off with beers or bury under hours spent out beyond midnight. I shouldn’t be blaming Mr. Darcy. I should be blaming her for my present disinterest in committing to a man. You love your mother you love your mother you love your mother. I was humming the words, making myself spurt out laughter. After forbidding me to have a boyfriend all through my school years, my mother was now all out with Daisy on fixing this aspect of my life. Fixing, they dared call it. As if I had a leaking pipe. As if crossing over to thirty flipped a button that made a dashing man and a marriage pour out from heaven. Never mind that I had a business I loved and friends who got me. Oh no, it wasn’t enough, because my mother needed grandchildren. I made the mistake of turning to my right, because Corporate Boy was staring at me, eyebrows raised. “What?” I demanded. “Never seen a woman laugh to herself before?” He seemed surprised, but also ready to answer. But the train made another awful stagger, screeching to a full stop. I craned my neck to look out the grubby window, as the voice crackling through the speakers confirmed my worst fears. “The train ahead of us is having technical difficulties. We will wait here until it can depart from Ayala station. Please remain seated. Good evening and apologies to all.” “Who the fuck is seated?” someone yelled out from the mass of bodies. “You tell them, sir,” Corporate Boy cheered. “Right on,” I seconded the motion. Corporate Boy and I settled deeper into our hard plastic seats. A moment later he was sighing out a gust of wind. “I’m in so much trouble.” “Yeah?” My phone lit up again. I didn’t dare read it. “Big date? Shit, sorry. That was prying.” “It’s okay. I also suck at small talk.” “Hey!” He laughed. This time I heard it, deep and bright and full to bursting. I felt it shake inside his chest, his arm sharing the tremors with mine. “Yes, it’s a date, and a setup too,” he said. “Looks like my awful streak is a solid one.” “Don’t worry. One look at you and she’ll be a puddle on the floor.” Okay, I just told him I thought he was hot. The trick to fix such a mistake, I’d learned, was to keep my eyes averted until I could mumble out better, less embarrassing words. “I mean, it looks like you made the effort. That’s a nice shirt.” He was smiling. I heard it. “I like your shirt too.” “You know them?” I brushed my hair away and looked down at the shirt in question. I was wearing the name of a recent favorite local band. Excitement washed over my shame and I tipped my head to look at him. “They’re not very mainstream, but they have an old school sound that I miss with all of these EDM hits ruining the world.” As if the train driver were my personal fairy, the speakers started booming out a stale Chainsmokers song. “Like this piece of catchy shit.” I started singing out the words, just to get it out of my brain before it embedded itself into a week-long Last Song Syndrome. “Are you going to a gig?” It was my turn to laugh. A gig, a blind date. What was the difference anyway? I could very well be an old, jaded vocalist, fed up with the same old music playing, with how each night would end with me exhausted and unsatisfied and leaving the bar alone. I should try this analogy with both Daisy and my mother after tonight. “Sure. It’s my final gig, at least for a while. Because I’m so tired of these things not working out.” “Is it a sound system problem, or a crowd control situation—?” “It’s a me problem. I suck at gigs.” His gaze found my mouth and my blood rushed to the space under the skin of my cheeks. He caught my gaze. His eyes weren’t black as I first thought, but a deep, rich brown. I saw alarm flit there for a second. One blink and it was gone. I took that as my turn to steer this small talk at which we both suck. “So, who’s the monster that set you up?” “My boss.” He chuckled at the sympathetic gaze I fixed him. “She has her rare, more, er, charitable moments. I’m trying to not feel too weird about it. I guess she took pity on me.” “Have you been very pitiful lately?” “I guess. I’ve been drinking a lot the past few months, I am nearly incapable of getting drunk now.” I let out a short whistle. “Congrats. Your liver is now steel on the outside, rotting on the inside.” “I’ve stopped, okay.” He looked part amused, part worried. Part proud. “I am too young to die. All my hopes and dreams can’t go to waste.” What a serious man he was. “Sounds like you have plenty.” He shrugged, massive shoulders lifting. His shadow loomed over me when he was standing, and beside me now, he had to dip his chin a few inches so he could catch my eyes. For someone talking to a stranger, he sure made a habit of maintaining eye contact. “I hope this girl I’m meeting tonight is nice,” his voice rumbled. “Because I really want to get married someday.” “First date and you’re thinking about marriage?” My voice might have risen to a squeak a little bit. “I’m going in with a goal in mind,” he said, sharp jaw set. “How old are you?” I surprised myself at daring to ask him his age. I didn’t think I’d get a reply. “Twenty-four, turning twenty-five.” Ah, the quarter-life crisis. My ex-boyfriend Adam and I used to talk about getting married at 25. The age passed us and we didn’t, because we both realized we were still kids hitting wall after wall with our inflated little heads, confident and ambitious but naïve with no idea what we really wanted. Three years past that age, he dumped me. A year later, he married someone else. I guess he figured out his life then. “That’s not too young to get married.” Corporate Boy seemed to have read my silence as judgment. That was partly true, fine, I admit it. Beyond that I was puzzled. And curious. “I hope you’re not measuring yourself against Lizzie Bennet,” I quipped, keeping a straight face. “At least look to Mr. Darcy. He was older.” “I am capable of heading a household.” His tone was flat but he didn’t sound annoyed. “Sure you are. Everything about you reeks of stable income and a complete roster of fancy benefits. I just pity the girl you’re meeting tonight. What if she just wants to fool around, you know? Toe you under the table. Make out with you in the car. That kind of a simple life.” I’d turned away but I swear I could feel his eyes on my mouth again. It must be a new superpower. I hoped my lipstick was as matte and long-wearing as the tube promised. “My boss knows where I am. She said she found me the perfect girl.” I scowled. “There is no such girl.” “Okay, okay, you’re right, I take it back,” he said, palms up. He ran one hand down his face, as if he felt worn out. “I meant a girl who might want something lasting too, instead of just footsies and kissing. Though I’m not against any of that.” “Why would you be?” I wished the train would leave now, because I treasured Daisy and I really didn’t want her to end up in prison for strangling me for being so late. Also because I knew if we stayed still like this any longer, Corporate Boy would start asking me questions. Surely he’d retaliate for my terrible small talk. I also wished the train would stall for a few minutes longer. Because Corporate Boy was gorgeous and his shirt felt good against my bare arm, and it had been a while since I’d wanted to figure out the spaces between a man’s words the way I did with his. I blamed it on his friendship with Mr. Darcy.

You Out of Nowhere (Flair #1) by Jay E. Tria, 2017

#romanceclass