#so yeh not really all that fussed on the game part of the game but im totes here for the worldbuilding and awesome spooky designs!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

failedintsave · 3 years ago

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Ok fine, fine ok. It's Nategaar hours around here today, and I need it to stay out of my current project so here's me purging it from my system til it resurfaces with vengeance in probably like a day.

You Spin Me Round

The rattling of the window panes was audible even over the bass of Murderface's boom box, rain blowing almost horizontally in tropical storm gales. But seasoned Floridians weren't afraid of a little stormy weather, as proven by the groups of drenched partygoers who continued to filter through the door of their crowded apartment.

Nathan weaved his way through the sea of bodies, returning from the keg with four Solo cups balanced overhead, trying his best not to spill everything down his arms. He squeezed into the corner where most of his band stood gathered around a wooden cable spool he'd taken from his dad's hardware shop, the tabletop littered with a scattered deck of cards, an overflowing ashtray at it's center.

"Who the fuck are some of these people?" He grumbled as he approached, passing out beers to waiting hands.

"Shit, man, idunnoe. I invited some chicks from deh show, and I know Magnus told some folks to come back, but deh rest?" Pickles shrugged. "Stuffs closin' fer deh weather I think, people lookin' fer something ta do."

He grunted, handing a cup over to Murderface next to him before reaching across the table to pass the last beer to Skwisgaar wedged between two fawning groupies.

"Shoulda put someone at the door to take money for cups, they're draining the keg." He took a slug of foamy beer, glaring down into the contents. "And there's no room to play games or do anything."

"Juscht play drink-the-beer, who needsch a game for that?"

"Auuuggh that's boring. And besides, I'm really good at that game and we'll run out of beer faster."

"He ams gots a good points."

Pickles rubbed his chin in consideration before snapping his fingers, a proverbial lightbulb going off over his head. "I gaht it."

He scurried off, slipping easily through the throng of bodies towards his room. They watched him disappear, barely a glimpse of fiery red hair visible over the shoulders of their so-called guests. After a few minutes he reappeared with a Cheshire grin and a green bottle of whiskey. He held up his first two fingers, a single die pinched between them.

"Alright, I've gaht a game fer us. First step, we empty dis bottle." He cracked the top and handed it to Nathan. "As you were deh inspiration fer dese shenanigans, you may do de honors."

"Perfect." Nathan tipped the bottle back and took a long pull, passing it off to Murderface to share around the circle as Pickles continued.

"Next t'ings, we need a couple extra players, ot'erwise dis will get real predictable quick." He stood on tiptoes, waving over a few familiar faces from their show. He flagged Magnus down, but the guitarist didn't move.

"What do you want?" He shouted across the room.

"Come play a game!"

"What game?"

"Russian roulette, whaddya think? A party game!"

"What game?" Magnus repeated, moving slightly closer.

"Spin deh bottle!"

That stopped Magnus in his tracks. "Nope. Not this again. Fool me once, shame on you. Hard pass."

Murderface sputtered as he handed off the bottle down the line. "Hold on, what wasch that?!"

Ignoring him, Pickles threw his arms up at the goateed guitarist. "Why not?!" Magnus shook his head and turned back, melting into the crowd. "Ah yeh fuckin' killjoy, fine den!"

Nathan frowned, tracking the bottle's progress around the circle. "Uh, Pickles. Why exactly did you think we'd wanna play that? Together? Do we look like middle schoolers?"

"It's fun! Dere's stakes!" He slapped the die onto the table, smirking around at his audience. "Me an' Tony an' de guys made up dis version back in deh day."

Skwisgaar wiped his mouth on the back of a slender wrist, handing the liquor down to the woman next to him. "Sos you always play deh kissingk games wif your bands?" To Nathan's ear he didn't sound put off, merely curious.

Murderface, meanwhile, was less impressed. "That'sch totally gay! We can't play thisch together, what'sch wrong with you?!"

"Eh, it's just a goof we made up, touring ain't all blowjobs and snortin' coke off tits, sometimes ya just wanna have fun." Pickles reached out and poked Murderface in the belly. "Wouldja lemme finish explainin' deh rules before ya quit?"

The bottle made it's way back to the drummer and he tilted his head back for several long chugs, holding the glass up to the light and sloshing the liquid around. He nodded and handed it off to Nathan again with a wink. Frowning, Nathan took another long draw. He wasn't going to be the first of them to back down from this idea, even if it was stupid.

"Okey, so here's why dis game is different. Dere's two parts." He indicated the die and the bottle with a flourishing gesture. "First you roll de dice. On a one, two er three, it's normal rules. Little smackaroonie. No big deal. Four an' five, ya elevate it a little bit. Makeout, pull some hair, whatever."

"Oooookaaay I think maybe Murderface was right about this." Nathan looked around at his bandmates. True there were almost twice as many girls at the table than them, but he wasn't sure he cared for the odds.

"Schee?!"

"Oh waaaaah, you buncha babies! Yer the one who said you were bored! Let's see whet you can come up with!"

"I'll plays."

Nathan's head jerked to face Skwisgaar across the table. The blonde wore an amused smirk as he focused on Pickles, a faint flush on his cheeks from the alcohol. He cocked his head to the side, accepting the drummer's challenge, golden waves cascading over his shoulder as he moved. Of course that smug bastard would play, this game sounded like a routine Thursday for him.

With a heavy sigh, Nathan's eyes shifted back to the drummer. "Alright. So what's six?"

Pickles grinned impishly. "Oh we call six 'Make It Look Good.' Thirty seconds on deh clock or til ev'rybody else makes ya stahp."

"What the actual fuck, Pickles."

"Ah-ah! Lemme finish! You have options!" He ticked off on his fingers. "One through three you can skip fer a shot. Four an' five you chug a beer. And six…"

The group around the table leaned as one, craning their necks expectantly in the drummer's direction. His eyes flashed as he snickered.

"If you want outta six, yeh gotta run a naked lap around the apartment building."

Thunder boomed outside as if to punctuate the final rule.

"Schon of a bitsch. We need more schotsch if we're doing thisch. I'm gonna get fucked up."

Pickles produced a second bottle and slammed it down on the table in front of him.

"Where were you keeping that?"

"Don't ask questions, are we playin' or what?"

The initial bottle finished it's second loop, landing in Nathan's palm again. With a grunt, he slugged the last of the booze and slammed the bottle onto it's side in the center of the table.

"God I wish there was room to play pong right now…" he picked up the dice and rolled.

The game didn't go nearly as badly as he'd expected, and after several rounds of making out with hot girls and taking shots to avoid kissing his bandmates Nathan was really starting to enjoy himself. Defying statistics, the only six rolled so far had been between two of the girls, and they'd all cheered like hooligans.

And then the fickle dice gods reconsidered their influence.

"Alrights, my toirns." Skwisgaar, who hadn't yet opted out of any of his rolls but was starting to get fairly tipsy regardless, snatched up the dice and shook it in Nathan's face, squinting one eye and grinning. He dropped it, four pips staring back up at him. Laughing, he gave the bottle a rapid spin.

It whirled and Nathan found himself holding his breath, eyes glued to the bottle, a little confused about what he was hoping would happen. Slowly, slowly the neck of the bottle came to rest pointing at Pickles.

"Uh-ohhhh, ya think the keg is tapped? Ya might be outta luck pal." The drummer laughed, pumping pierced brows at the blonde.

"Pfffft, shuts up." Skwisgaar leaned past one of the giggling girls, seizing a handful of Pickles' shirt and hauling him forward into an open-mouthed kiss. Nathan stared as they pulled apart, his skin heating and head swimming with whiskey.

"Well okey den," Pickles stroked his chin, nodding sagely. "Now I see whet all deh fuss is about, nyeheheh."

Swaying upright again, Skwisgaar clumsily flung his hair back over his shoulder. "Whats can I says, I ams a master ats everyt'ings I dedicates my times to."

"Scho like, two thingsch."

"Ams better den no t'ings."

"Hey!"

Nathan zoned out, staring at the table for the next few turns, snapped back to attention by Murderface's repeated 'No, no, no no!' as Pickles rolled a three and landed on him.

"A'right, yer turn Nate." The drummer smirked, sliding the bottle and the die across the table.

"Ugh, are we still playing this? When is it over?"

"Aw aments Nat'ans havingk any funs?"

He raised his eyes to the willowy guitarist across from him. Skwisgaar's thin arms were crossed over his chest, hip popped jauntily to the side. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his high forehead from the dense mugginess of the apartment, a teasing smile playing over his lips, bruised pink from being crushed against Pickles'. With an effort, Nathan tore his gaze away and redirected it towards the table.

"Fine. Whatever." He started the bottle spinning with more force than necessary, rolling the dice as it rotated.

Six.

Shit.

The rest of the table was already hooting in glee as the bottle spun down, slowing, taking an agonizingly long time to stop. Finally it came to rest at twelve o'clock.

Pointing at Skwisgaar.

The table erupted.

"OH SCHIT! Can't drink your way outta thisch one!"

"Nyeeeeheheheheh! Now's tha real show!"

"Oh dear sweet lord." Nathan covered his face with his hands, cheeks burning already.

"Hey you have an advantage, everything he does looks good."

"Why t'anks you, what was you names again? Monicas?"

"Yeh could always take the second option agin?" Pickles offered, biting back a laugh as he patted Nathan's shoulder.

His heartbeat throbbed in his ears, and something like pre-show jitters fluttered in his stomach, arms and legs tingling.

"Huehuehuehhue, ams lookingk pretty nastys out dere." Skwisgaar's drunken chuckle was underlined by another peal of thunder, window panes jumping in their casings. "Yous gonna gets blowed away."

Fuck that.

He dropped his hands away from his face, narrowing his eyes at the smirking blonde. "Fine. You dildoes want a show?"

His audience yelped as he reached down, grabbing the edge of the wooden spool and throwing it aside, playing cards and ashtray scattering to the floor, bottle toppling to the ground and shattering. Nathan lunged forward, relishing the shocked widening of blue eyes before impact.

Fighting against muscle memory of past football tackles, he grappled Skwisgaar against his broad chest, wrapping his arms beneath the other man's flailing limbs, his palms cradling bony shoulder blades. He walked the blonde backwards into the corner, pressing him into the wall.

"Timer! Start deh count!"

"No don't, I've scheen enough already, augh!"

As Skwisgaar recovered from the initial shock of being sacked, the natural showman in him awoke. Fire coursed over Nathan's scalp as calloused fingers threaded into his hair, holding his head steady as Skwisgaar turned to deepen the kiss. Nathan's clenched jaw unlocked and his lips parted before he could overthink it.

"...seven, eight, nine..!"

The sound of their onlookers counting faded into the background, drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears. He pushed a knee forward between Skwisgaar's thighs, catching a long leg as it wrapped behind his and hiking it up to his hip, leaving the blonde standing one legged like an albino flamingo.

"...fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen..!"

Skwisgaar bit down on Nathan's bottom lip and something in him broke, a cage door swinging open on its hinges. A growl rumbled in his chest as he reached down and grabbed the guitarist's other leg, hauling it up to his waist, lifting the other man from the floor as easily as he would carry groceries up from his car.

"... twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six…!"

Fingers clawed into the material of his shirt, scratching against his back. The sudden urge to carry Skwisgaar away from the party, to drag him back to his cave like a neanderthal, blindsided Nathan and his muscles locked. Sensing the end of their performance, Skwisgaar sighed into his mouth, the pressure of his lips softening as he started to pull back.

"Thirty! Dat's time!" Pickles howled a laugh. "Holy shit guys, dat's game. Ain't nobody gonna top dat act, even if you hadn't broke deh bottle!"

Nathan opened his eyes as they broke off, the heated blue gaze in front of him driving any and all coherent thoughts from his brain. Gingerly, he released one of Skwisgaar's legs, then the other, white boots touching down on the floor, toe-heel, toe-heel. Standing once again under his own power, a slow, crooked smile stretched across Skwisgaar's face, a breathy chuckle shaking his shoulders once. It took every ounce of willpower Nathan possessed to tear his eyes away from the curve of those full lips, and he turned to face the other two members of his band.

Murderface had his eyes squeezed closed, cracking one to peek. "Isch it over? Are they done?"

Frowning, Nathan grunted through his nose like a bull, stomping forward to snatch the second bottle of liquor from the bassist's hands. Glass crunched beneath his boots as he retreated wordlessly to his bedroom, passing Magnus on the way out.

The older guitarist shook his head, curly mane swishing. "I coulda told ya… every time Pickles tries to pl--"

"Just. Don't." Nathan pushed through the hall, evicting the gaggle of strangers standing around in his room and slamming the door behind him.

Hours later, after the storm had slowed to only a downpour and the party had fizzled out, Nathan lay awake on his back, staring at the ceiling. From the second his door had closed behind him, his brain had flipped from a crawl to light speed, hurtling through thousands of moments from the last couple of years, all of them centered on interactions with his lead guitarist. Slender fingers brushing against his own as he passed the tv remote, blonde hair tickling against his arm as they drove with the windows down, the nervous fluttery feeling in his belly at the sound of a dorky, throaty chuckle.

Nathan ground the heels of his palms against his eye sockets hard enough to see stars. How long? When did these thoughts start popping up? And when had he started stomping them down, locking them away without acknowledgement? Sure, Skwisgaar was hot, he wasn't blind, he could admit that much. But this wasn't that, this was...he didn't know what this was.

But he needed to find out.

Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he crept out to the door directly across the hall. He started to knock, then paused, not wanting to wake anyone else in the apartment. Nathan turned the knob and cracked the door enough to wedge his face into the gap.

"Hey. Psst. Skwisgaar, you in here?" Another thought struck him, an irrational jealous pang vibrating through him. "Uh, you alone?"

The red glow of a digital clock was the only source of light in the guitarist's bedroom, a faint silhouette shifted on the bed, backlit in flashes by the blinking 12:00.

"Nat'ans?" came a groggy voice from the covers. "What ams you doing up? What times am it?" He rolled to check the useless clock and groaned in exasperation.

"Can... can I..?" He didn't wait for an invitation, stepping inside and closing the door behind him, leaning back against it and clutching the door knob like an anchor.

As his eyes adjusted he could see Skwisgaar sit up, scrubbing a hand over his face as he tried to wake up. Nathan chewed his bottom lip, the flesh tender in an not-unpleasant way. For the second time tonight his mind blanked on him completely.

"What's de matters?"

He swallowed. "Uh."

"Nat'ans?"

"Uhhhh."

Skwisgaar waited, studying him in the dark, giving him time to organize his thoughts. It was something Nathan had always appreciated about the Swede, having (mostly) learned a second language, he understood the occasional difficulties Nathan ran into expressing himself verbally.

"I uh. Earlier."

"Ja."

"I didn't. I didn't think that."

Skwisgaar shifted on the bed, turning to fully face Nathan, still waiting patiently.

"That it would…"

"Hm?"

Nathan inhaled deeply through his nose, forcing the last words out in a rush. "Wouldbelikethatthefirstime."

He waited, certain that Skwisgaar would brush it off, dismiss it as nothing, a game. Or worse, that he'd laugh. Nathan held his breath, ready to bolt in embarrassment. This was stupid, he was stupid, what had be been thinking, it had been a game, it meant nothing.

"Ams you sayingk you wants a do-overs?"

He could hear the smile in the other man's voice, cadence low and teasing, but without cruelty. Playful.

"I-I uh." He'd used up his words for the day, instead opting for a jerky nod.

A ghostly white hand reached out in the dark, forefinger crooking, beckoning him.

"Come heres den." As Nathan shuffled forward he could see Skwisgaar's eyes shining like a cat's. "Ams a firm believer dats practice make perfects."

#skwisgaar skwigelf #nathan explosion #pickles the drummer #william murderface #dethklok #metalocalypse #nategaar #the tickets were confusing how did i board this ship?#this game is a version i played in my early 20s #you know the days when everyones dumb and extra h*rny 😳#anyway that's the fic let them all kiss ok bye

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gainingexjock · 4 years ago

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THE EX JOCK

Harry had been a great athlete in high school, the typical jock type. He did football, wrestling, basketball and occasionally a bit of soccer. He always had a love for food but his activities meant he still had a trim and athletic physic. As he began his final year in high school he found exam stress and work meant he had to stop doing so much sport, in fact he decided to stop altogether until his exams were out of the way. But he hadn’t altered his diet to match his new found laziness, and so the weight began to pile on

Harry came home after school in September after a long day and revision after school, the first thing he did was head to the fridge and cupboards . He grabbed some coke, a bag of share Doritos, two chocolate bars and a bad of haribos. He ran upstairs quick and closed the sort to his room, he removed his clothes until he was just in his boxers and sat in his gaming chair snacking away while playing Xbox with some friends. Half a hour passed and he had finished all the food so headed downstairs to grab some more, as he was rumadging through the fridge his mum came through the door. “Hey bby sweetie, what are you doing?”

“Just grabbing some snacks mum”

“Well don’t eat too much cause I am making lasagne for tea”

Harry nodded and headed back upstairs to finish his snacks, 1 hour passed and he could hear his mum call from downstairs that dinner was ready. He chucked on some joggers and made his way downstairs his belly having a slight jiggle to it, his mum was a good cook but didn’t eat a lot herself. Instead she made a nice big lasagne for Harry with garlic bread and pizza on the side, while she had a salad. Harry finished the whole dish as well as the rest of the food. He sat back in his chair to let his belly hang out, it was firm and stuffed to the brim with food.

“Oh darling, I am glad you have a good appetite”

“Me too mum *burrppp, oh sorry pardon me”

“Why don’t u go sit down and I will bring you some dessert”

Harry took his plate to the dishwasher and went to sit in the couch, he found it discomforting to find a comfy position. He was too full and his belly to firm, his mum came over with some chocolate cake and ice cream.

“Here u go sweetpea”

“Thanks mum but I think I am too full to eat anymore”

“How about I rub your tummy while you have it hmm I don’t want to see you go hungry”

Harry obliged knowing he did want that cake, so he sat there scoffing his face while he felt his mums warm hands massage his stomach. The peace didn’t last long as his mum had something she needed to say

“Hun, I didn’t want to say anything and I have fed u up tonight so u didn’t feel bad but I think stopping your sports was a bad idea, you have gained a lot of weight scince”

“I know mum but tbh I am too busy for sports and plus it’s kind of nice not having to do it anymore”

“But you were so good at it, I don’t mind you gaining weight in fact you were maybe too skinny but I don’t want u to fell unhappy in your body”

“I don’t mum, in fact the size is nice. I feel more comfortable and we haven’t had nice moments like this for years while I did sports”

“Yes I guess you are right, it’s nice to spend more time with you”

“I want to tell you something, I actually want to get bigger and I hope you will help me do that mum”

“Ofc I will Harry, if that’s what u want sugarplum”

Harry was quite surprised his mum had agreed so easily, but he knew she was a feeder, she always had made big meals for everyone that came round and he knew she wouldn’t deny him what he wanted.

-January-

All the parents stared as an obese Harry came waddling out the school doors. The last few months had been endless food and laziness for Harry, his mum had definitely pulled through and was helping him gain weight. When he told his mum about his want to gain he was about 230 pounds but now he was edging 350. It wasn’t long till all the parent and kids saw Harry’s mum pull up in her big suv, she got out and helped Harry into the back giving him some snacks to eat on the way home. They where driving the way home and Harry noticed they had pulled into a drive thru, his mum ordered and passed the three bags into the back

“Here u go darling, u look stressed so here is some food to make u feel better”

Harry gobbles it all up before they got home, his belly popping out from under his small t shirt every time they went over a pothole or speedbump. They pulled up onto the drive but there was another car there, to Harry’s surprise his dad get out. Harry’s dad left home four years ago and was again a typical high school jock kinda guy, Harry hadn’t seen him for just over a year

Harry’s mum helped him out the car, his dads face turned to a look of anger and surprise

“Wth happened to you Harry !!”

“Don’t shout at him please james”

“Last time I saw you, you were a successful sports player and now look at you, a huge butterball who probably can’t run across the playing field ! You are a disgace”

Harry could feel his tears beginning to form in his eyes, he ran as fast as his fat legs could carry him to his room where he stripped down and lay on his bed. He could hear his mum shouting and then his dad slamming the car door and driving away

There was a knock at the bedroom door and his mum came in, he was completely naked but his new belly hid his private parts so he wasn’t too fussed. His mum sat down on the bed next to him and passed him a Swiss role she had brought from the store.

“I’m sorry hun, you know I love you and I think you still look as good as ever”

Harry felt better feeling the support from his mum and embraced her with a big hug. The months that passed were great, he continued school but as soon as he got home his mum would feed him whatever he wanted and he got bigger and bigger every day. He started getting comments at school from his older jock friends but he was soon gonna be leaving so he didn’t care too much. That day when he got home from school, he saw a furniture moval van pulled up on his neighbours driveway, he knew their house had been up for sale but had no idea it had sold. He went inside to see his mum had just finished baking a nice big chocolate cake, he dropped his bag on the floor and headed over to lick the icing

“ no Harry, this isn’t for you. It’s a moving in present for the couple next door. We are taking it over in a bit, I hear they have a son about your age maybe you two could become friends hmm”

Harry was annoyed at being denied the cake so just nodded, grabbed some Doritos from the cupboard and headed upstairs. He didn’t particularly want to meet this new kid as he would probably take the mick out of Harry and his ballooning size which was now over 400. So he was anxious to hear his mum shout from downstairs that it was time to go welcome them

Harry quickly chucked some joggers and a white tee on and headed downstairs, him and his mum walked round to the neighbours house which looked a lot less chaotic than earlier. Harry was puffing from the walk over and was really not liking the idea of meeting this kid. His mum knocked on the door and after a few seconds it was opened my a big man, with a large beard and a even larger stomach. Harry guessed he must have been around 300 pounds, he was quickly joined by a smaller more petite lady with brown hair.

“Hi, sorry to disturb you cause I know you must be busy unpacking. But we live next door and wanted to bring this cake as a welcome gift. This is my son harry”

“Well that’s very kind of you, it looks delicious” the man said

“Sorry my husband is forgetting his manors, I am Julie and this is my husband Charles, our son Sam is around. Why don’t you come in and I shall grab him”

Harry and his mum came in and sat on the couch by the kitchen, as Harry sat down his shirt rode up leaving the softest part of his belly exposed. He quickly tugged it down hoping no one saw. In the hall he could see Julie come down the stairs, and following her at a much slower pace came Sam. Well Sam’s belly, Harry couldn’t quite see his face yet. Harry was in awe , sam must have been around the same size as him but with blonde curly hair and a huge double chin. He was wearing shorts that let his big wobbly thighs loose and a black tee that stood no chance of slimming the big belly down. He smiled and sat down next to his parents

“ so how long have you and Harry lived here?” Julie asked

“About 7 years now, Harry goes to the local school which I presume sam will be joining ?”

“Oh no, same finished his exams before we moved so idk what he is gonna do yet, perhaps get a job somewhere local. In fact sam why don’t you take Harry to your room you two can get to know each other better”

Sam agreed and signalled Harry to follow him, it took a couple of tries for both of the boys to get off the couch. Harry couldn’t help but look at Sam’s big jiggly ass as they walked up the stairs, it really was very plump

“Here is my room, it’s nicer than my last one a lot bigger”

“It’s really nice” Harry replied

“Take a seat”

The two boys sat on the bean bags sam had in his room, Harry knew it was a bad idea as it would be hard for him to get back up again after.

“Do u wanna play some Xbox” Sam asked

“Yeah defo”

“Let me just grab some snacks, why don’t u put a game in”

Sam soon came back up with two big bowls of crisps, chocolate and some coke for them both. They spent a good hour eating and playing some video games, Harry reached back into the bowl to grab some crisps to find it was empty

“Oh sorry mate, I have quite a big appetite I shall grab some more” Sam said as he patted his belly

He tried to get up, getting a bit flustered in the process. He pushed himself up with his left arm trying to get onto his feet, but his weight betrayed him and he came crashing to the floor again with a huge thud, spilling his coke all over his t shirt in the process

“You okay mate?” Harry said while quickly supporting sam back onto the bean bag

“Yeh thank you, I dunno why I couldn’t get up”

Harry could see sam was getting upset

“Don’t worry, listen I probs will struggle to get out this seat as well. U ain’t the only one with a big belly in the way haha”

Sam smiled a little

“Haha thanks, yeh I guess we are both big boys. I need to change my top though”

Sam slowly made his way over to the dresser, deciding to just shuffle over as he couldnt quite get the energy to push himself off the bean bag

He opened the drawer and grabbed a t shirt

“Sorry this too is a bit small but I haven’t unpacked the rest of my clothes yet”

“Don’t worry mate”

Same heaved himself up and slowly removed the soaking t shirt exposing his stretch marked belly to Harry. Harry didn’t quite know why he was so attracted to Sam, perhaps it was because they were so similar in size or maybe Harry had never seen such a big boy before apart from himself. Sam had a beautiful body, a big belly that hanged over the waistline of his shorts and moobs that dropped either side, he slid the new top over his large belly but it didn’t quite cover it

“I figured as we are both big it didn’t matter if I took my top off in front of u haha”

“It’s fine”

Sam came over and lowered himself again

“Listen, I wanna speak big guy to big guy. What’s it like for you? I have been big for a long time and I can’t really remeber a time I wasn’t overweight. I hope you don’t think me rude but you are a big guy and honestly man you look great” Sam said

“ well tbh sam I love it, I have really plumped up this year after stopping football and all my other sports. Mate you look great as well, I don’t really know what to say but the belly suits you”

“Thanks man, shall we get some more food, I bet my parents won’t mind if we order pizza”

“Sure let’s do it”

The boys pigged out massively that evening, not moving from the bean bags on Sam’s bedroom floor, in fact Harry stayed there that night as they where both too full to even try and get up. They both slept there in their briefs with their belly on show.

The boys became good friends over the next few months, Sam had gained a lot as he didn’t get the job his parents were hoping he would. So he lived a life of laziness and eating. Harry had just finished his exams and began his holidays, his mum fed him well when she got home from work and during the day he did the same as Sam

One day Harry was laying on his bed now weighing a colossal 500 pounds, he was watching netlix in his briefs while stuffing his favourite, a chocolate Swiss role. Suddenly Sam came bursting through the bedroom door

“Oh shit sorry man, your mum said to come up I had no idea”

Harry quickly tried to adjust himself but he hadn’t moved for a good few days and was weighed down by his belly

“It’s okay mate”

“I just , ugh he grunted” he began to sweat and his breath quickened

“ I can’t get up”

Sam came over

“Oh shit mate, let me help you”

Harry pushed and pushed while sam pulled and eventually he was now sat up right, his huge belly hanging between his legs. Sam sat next to him making the bed creak so much they thought it would break.

“Thanks man” Harry panted

“ no worries dude I mean you have seen me in this situation before haha”

“I am such a disgrace, you must think me such a slob”

“No Ofc not, I do the exact same thing when I am home. In fact let me be a slob too”

Sam stood up and began to remove his tight joggers and top that barley covered his belly anyway, Harry couldn’t believe the sight, Sam looked amazing so huge and obese. His briefs cutting into his huge thighs. He came and sat next to him, their bellies pushing together as they where both now released from the constraints of clothing.

“See we are the same” Sam said

“Listen mate, I don’t want you to think me disgusting but you look amazing and honestly I just wanna fuck that big ass of yours right now”

“I thought u would never ask”Sam said

Harry turned laying down next to Sam, they pushed their bellies together each helping the other to remove their tight briefs from their body.

It was amazing, they laid there next to each other after having the best sex in their life, both panting and tired from the exercise. The door opened, Harry’s mum had never looked so shocked in her life !

“Boys what, what are you doing?!”

“Mum, me and Sam we love each other and we want to grow big and old together. We want to grow fat together”

His mum called round Sam’s parents and they explained it all. They all agreed, both parents already knew their boys love for food it was just now they would be doing it together. The boys where brought food by their parents as they lay in bed together and grew in size.

Years later the bed was reinforced with steel to take the weight of the two boys, growing fatter by the day. Harry a colossal 900 pounds and sam a huge 850, they where both now 23 and had been living their dream life. They planned to keep on growing with the help of their parents

#fat kink #fat #obese #belly #getting fatter #male feedee #weight gain story #weight gain #bhm

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katefiction · 4 years ago

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Million Pound Baby

by katefiction (Maria) / 2013

St. Mary’s Hospital, London.

Arthur Edwards stood on the front row of a scrum of photographers. Fifty or so of them had been waiting impatiently for their subjects to leave the hospital. Many were trying to jostle to the front, but Arthur was having none of it. The hospital had set up a press pen for a the chosen few, but that hadn’t stopped countless other photographers and TV crews from around the globe setting up camp across the street.

‘Bringing back memories, Arthur?’ a fellow photographer asked him as he made sure he had all the equipment he needed.

‘Oh yes’ he replied.

Thirty-one years earlier, he had stood at the same hospital as the Prince and Princess of Wales introduced a baby Prince William to the world. Back then, he had climbed up a nearby scaffolding to get a clear view of the baby’s face, a picture that none of the other photographers had managed to get.

Arthur didn’t fancy his chances of climbing anything like that today, not at his age. His fellow snappers were all much younger and much fitter than he was, but he was still at the top of his game. Thanks in no small part to his good relationship with the Prince of Wales, he had become popular with William too.

‘Any ETA mate?!’, one of the hacks shouted rudely to the guard that was standing at the hospital door.

‘As I’ve already said, someone will be out to give you all the information you need soon.’ he shouted back, shaking his head. The press had been relentless.

Twelve hours earlier, Clarence House had confirmed that the Duchess of Cambridge had been taken to St. Mary’s, and the press rushed to the hospital. Six hours after that came the announcement that she had given birth to a baby boy.

They had been waiting ever since.

‘Do you think they’ll come out or not?’, the photographer asked Arthur. There had still been no confirmation that William and Kate would let the press take pictures of their newborn. They had just been waiting there in hope that William wouldn’t let his protectiveness of his family get in the way of a momentousness story.

‘I hope so, mate’ Arthur replied, looking at his watch. Six pm.

* * *

Inside the hospital, in a private birthing suite on the top floor, William and Kate prepared to leave.

Kate, standing in front of the mirror in the en suite bathroom, lifted her hair into a ponytail before dropping it around her shoulders again.

‘Up or down?’ she asked, but got no response.

Poking her head around the door she saw her husband sitting at the end of the bed staring lovingly into a hospital crib.

‘William?’ she repeated. ‘Are you listening? My hair, should I wear it up or down?’

He turned around, pulling his eyes away from the crib for a second.

‘It looks fine either way’, he said, not paying the slightest bit of attention.

Kate shook her head and returned to the mirror. ‘Spoken from a true baldy.’

‘Oi I heard that!’ he laughed. ‘Anyway, I’m not the only bald one any more, am I little one.’ He looked down once again.

Their newborn son lay asleep in the crib, wrapped in blanket, his tiny eyelids flickering.

‘We’ll be baldies together’, William smiled.

‘Give him a year and he’ll have more hair than you’, Kate said walking from the bathroom, having decided on a half up, half down do.

William lifted the baby gently out of the crib and cradled him in his arms. ‘Tell your mummy to stop teasing daddy.’

‘You really should stop taking him out, you’re going to wake him up.’

‘Good. He needs to wake up. He’s been asleep for far too long.’ William said. This was the fourth time this hour that he’d picked him up for a cuddle.

‘Will, I don’t want his eyes open when all those cameras are flashing, please don’t wake him up.’

He sensed her anxiety, and her new found mother-lioness attitude.

‘Listen, we don’t have to do this. We can go through the back door, it’s fine’, he said, trying to soothe her.

Kate picked up a baby blanket from the bed and began to fold it meticulously. ‘No, we’ll do it. It’s like Jamie said, if we do this now, they’ll leave us alone for a while.’

‘I need you to be sure. I’m taking your lead on this one’ he said. There were many drawbacks to marrying a prince, William knew this. One of them was being photographed just hours after you had given birth.

‘I am. It’s just five minutes’, she said placing the blanket into a bag. ‘And then mister’, she reached over and stroked her hand over her baby’s soft hair, ‘we can take you home.’

* * *

John Baker, William and Kate’s press secretary stepped out of the hospital’s main entrance ready for the waiting crowd.

The press pen fell silent.

‘Ladies and gentlemen’ he began. ‘Thank you for your patience.’

Arthur took a couple of snaps. He wouldn’t usually waste his film on royal aides, in fact it was an in joke between the photographers about how often they appeared in the back of shots of the royals. However, today he wanted as many pictures as possible to capture the day.

John continued, reading from a sheet of paper. ‘In approximately ten minutes, their royal highnesses, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge will be making a short photocall. The duke and duchess will not be answering any questions on this occasion. They kindly request that all noise is kept to a minimum as not to wake their son. Any further information will be released at a later date. Thank you.’

The press began firing a barrage of questions at John.

‘Has the baby got a name?’

‘Who does he look like?!’

However, he retreated back inside as soon as he could.

Arthur’s stomach turned. It was finally here. He had followed William around the globe since the day he was born, and now he was here back where it all started. He found his mind wondering back to the last time he had seen William.

* * *

2 months earlier.

Mountain Rescue charity event, London.

‘Ok everyone, smile’ Arthur said to William as he posed with members of the Mountain Rescue charity, of which he was patron.

The flash went off capturing their smiling faces.

‘Evening Arthur’, William said later on, shaking his hand. Arthur was often on engagements with William, but he rarely got a chance to a have a conversation with him.

‘Still going then? I thought you were retiring after I got married?’, William asked in jest.

Arthur laughed. He had indeed told William that he would retire after his wedding.

‘I have three grandchildren to please so I better keep going a while yet.’

‘Three? A handful I suppose?’

‘Oh yes. The eldest wants to go to university in the autumn, and paying that £9000 a year isn’t easy for her parents. I said I’d help out where I can’, he said, holding up his camera as an explanation of why he was still working.

William nodded sympathetically. He wasn’t allowed to comment on issues such as the huge rise in tuition fees, but privately he wondered how anyone would be able to afford it.

‘Where does she want to go?’ he said, attempting to steer the conversation away from politics.

‘Durham, Nottingham and somewhere you’d approve of – St. Andrews – are her three choices. Nottingham’s at the top of the list though.’

‘Ah, surely she can change her mind?’ William joked. ‘No better place than St. Andrews.’

Arthur chortled, and then said rather solemnly, ‘with those fees, she might not be going at all…’ He stopped himself, suddenly aware of how inappropriate it was to talk to William about his family’s financial issues.

William looked relieved to be out of that awkward spot, when his secretary Miguel came rushing over.

‘Excuse me, Arthur’, William said, as Miguel led him to one side.

All Arthur heard next were three words, ‘duchess’, ‘fall’, ‘hospital’, but he knew it was enough to break a story.

William glanced over to him, his bright blue eyes suddenly grey, before rushing away.

Arthur whipped out his phone, entering the number for the Sun news desk. As the phone rang, he thought of the look he’d just witnessed in William’s eyes.

Over the years he had seen him grow up with warring parents, seen the shadow fall across his face as he walked behind his mother’s coffin, and the anger when the paparazzi got a little too close to his wife.

He pulled the phone away from his ear and hung up before anyone could answer. He was the only member of the media who knew Kate had been taken to hospital. The rest would find out eventually of course, but at least this way, William and Kate could have some choice in when.

* * *

‘Are you ready?’ William asked as Kate, holding the baby in her arms, fiddled with the blanket that surrounded his head.

‘Yeh, I think so’, she said preoccupied with the blanket.

‘You’d say if you weren’t feeling well, wouldn’t you?’, he said, running his hand over her arm.

Two months earlier, she’d collapsed at home with an iron deficiency. William had been incredibly attentive, if not a little fussy, ever since.

‘Stop fussing’, she said, giving him one of her calming smiles.

They were led by John to the doors, which opened to a symphony of flashes.

‘Whoa’, William grumbled.

Kate instinctively placed a hand over the baby’s eyes as the made their way to the centre.

The shouts all started at once, questions being fired from every direction. William placed a finger to his lips, quieting the pack.

Arthur watched in awe as William worked the hundreds of hungry spectators. He whispered something to Kate, causing her to remove her hand from the baby’s eyes.

Finally they had a good view of their future king. Soft brown hair crowned his tiny head, and full lips accented his face. Arthur snapped quickly, but was being pushed by the photographer to his right, who was trying to get a better shot.

Up on the steps, Kate asked ‘shall I pass him to you?’, an indication that in a couple of minutes, she will have had enough.

She passed him over gently, placing him in the safety of William’ strong arms, prompting more shouts from the crowd. William scanned the press pen, his eyes landing on Arthur Edwards who was ferociously fighting for his place with another photographer.

‘Kate do you see Arthur?’, he said, leaning in to her.

She too, scanned the crowd, eventually finding him. ‘Yes.’

‘Do something for me. When I turn to him, I want you to look into his camera’, he said.

‘Are you sure?’ she asked, confused. It was common knowledge that a picture with a royal looking straight into your camera was more valuable than most. It was very rare to get two royals to do that in these kind of photo calls.

‘I owe him one’, he said. ‘I’ll explain later.’ Unbeknownst to Arthur, William was well aware of what Arthur had done, or hadn’t done at the charity event that night.

William turned to look straight into Arthur’s camera, and Kate followed, smiling widely.

Arthur stopped, stunned at what he was witnessing. William was turning the baby’s head ever so slightly so that Arthur had the three of them facing him. Finally his finger reacted, snapping wildly before they turned away.

And then it was over.

‘Ok?’ William said to Kate.

She nodded, her sign that it was time to leave. He passed the baby back to her, and linked and arm around her waist, leading her away from the mass, but not before he caught Arthur’s eye, giving him a quick nod.

As soon as they were back inside, the press retreated. Some would try and catch them leaving the hospital. Others went to get their pictures sent to their bosses in time for the print deadline that night.

Arthur, however, stood frozen to the spot, glaring into his camera. The picture he had was worth more than he could imagine.

* * *

2 months later.

Sun Newspaper Offices, London.

A letter landed on Arthur’s desk. He recognised the monogram instantly. He opened it and began to read…

“Dear Mr. Edwards,

Their Royal Highnesses, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge kindly request a digital copy of your photograph, as featured on the front cover of the Sun Newspaper, dated July 12th 2013, for their personal collection.

Please attach an invoice for payment.

…”

He wasted no time in putting the picture, as well as several others on a photo card, and writing a note to go with it.

“Dear Your Royal Highnesses,

Please accept the attached photographs as a gift from the Edwards family, on the occasion of the birth of your son.

Arthur Edwards”

Before sealing the envelope, he pulled the note out once again and added a post script to the end.

“P.S. It may interest the duke to learn my granddaughter begins university this week.

At St. Andrews.”

#katefiction #royal fanfiction #cambridge fanfiction #kate middleton

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inkribbon796 · 4 years ago

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The Lost Ones Ch. 2

Chapter 2: A Star is Born

Summary: Now that Anti has his clone of destruction it’s a lot smaller and a lot less destructive than he planned. But that doesn’t mean he can’t get some chaos out of the little scientific miracle.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

The glitch demon was not impressed.

He honestly didn’t know what he had expected, he’d barely been a part of the process past snipping off pieces of aura. But a brat sleeping in a glass box wasn’t what he’d expected.

Where was the doom? The chaos?

Anti glared at Beauregard, “It’s tiny.”

“Yep,” Bouregard was almost bouncing with glee. “We’ve named him Paul-08 since he’s the eighth one. He’s about five months now.”

“Don’t care, prolly not keeping the name,” Anti warned. “Ye said it was alive, looks pretty still ta me.”

She looked disappointed, “He’s sleeping, and we really like that name. Besides, he’s just a baby.”

“Don’t,” Anti repeated. “Care. Is it alive or not? I didn’t get ye fookers their auras ta throw a baby shower.”

“Yes, he’s alive, he’s just sleeping,” she told him. “We’re starting to get him to try solid foods.”

“Good,” Anti immediately reached in a picked the baby up, realizing one thing. “This kid’s freezing.”

“Yes, we think it might have something to do with the maternal side genes,” she admitted.

Anti stared at her before looking the baby over, who was starting to fuss. Fighting the urge to dump the kid back in the incubator and walk away, he studied the kid a bit closer, a light coating of dark fluff was already on top of his head, and his eyes were starting to darken from the normal baby blue.

Then his brain halted, “Wait, I didn’t brin’ anythin’ extra.”

“Oh, the maternal genes came from Smoky,” Beauregard was silently coaching Anti how to hold the baby, and to Anti immense relief he stopped fussing. “Whenever it turned more red it was receptive to cooperating even if it did become more aggressive in the process.”

“Smoky?” Anti repeatedly.

“Yeah Smoky and Bubbles, we gave them nicknames because it was shorter than writing Dark Aura and Warfstache Aura.”

“I like it,” Anti decided, “continue.”

“Well you would not believe how uncooperative auras are, it took us ages to actually get the kid. He had to coax Smoky into making the shape we wanted and after a couple tries we got this little cutie.”

The baby let out this little bubbly giggle.

It reminded Anti more of Wilford than Dark, but all he needed was the thing to keep breathing.

“Kay, we’ll be back,” Anti said, already opening up a portal and taking the kid through.

“What?” Beauregard looked panicked. “Wait! He hasn’t had his—”

Anti was stepping through with the kid and smiled, “Let’s go find your big scary dads and watch ‘em squirm.”

A couple of stolen baby things later and Anti was standing in a downtown plaza with the kid in a harness attached to his own chest, waiting while holding a phone he’d found ages ago and was using to post pictures online with him and the baby. The picture’s caption read: Not ready for swimming lesson but still likes the water. Don’t tell his dad.

His favorite so far was the picture he took was the one he took standing on a large fountain in Dark’s territory, holding two fingers up with the kid trying to grab the water.

Anti had to admit, the kid definitely inherited all of Wil’s charm and none of the anything Anti didn’t like about Dark . . . which fortunately for the kid that was everything about the Entity.

So Anti was checking his phone, standing next to Wil’s radio station, the kid trying to grab his phone and was fussing a little bit. Which meant that he was either hungry or something like that. He’d have to take the kid back at this rate because he was not changing the brat’s diaper.

In total he’d had the kid out for about ten minutes before he dodged Jackie who tried to snag the kid directly off his chest.

“Hey, hey,” Anti floated up and the kid started crying at the gust of wind suddenly rushing by them, startled and scared. “You don’t just steal kids, what kind of hero are you?”

“Okay, Anti,” Jackie approached carefully, having lost the element of surprise. “What’s it gonna take ta get that kid back ta their folks?”

A dumb hero, and a whole lot of noise. Anti smiled. “I don’t know, why don’t yah come an’ take it from me?”

However Anti was grabbed from the back of the carrier straps and dragged back towards the ground by Silver.

“Come on, Anti, just give us the kid,” Silver ordered. “Poor kid’s probably hungry.”

The screaming the kid was doing was starting to become shrill, a dull ringing confused for Jackie’s tinnitus, but was a byproduct of inheriting Dark’s aura.

Anti wrapped his arms around the kid and glitched himself away, slamming into a car. The instant Anti’s aura kicked up, the kid started snuffling instead of crying, trying to put some of the glitching pixels into his mouth.

“Come on, bend reality, do somethin’ yah ankle biter,” Anti demanded.

“Anti, don’t be a bastard, give us the kid,” Jackie demanded.

“Wish I could,” Anti looked at the car he’d crashed into and knocked it into the news station with his aura, it hit the gate and crashed into the entrance.

“Oops,” Anti smiled, and predictably color started to drain from the area, an odd red and blue effect echoing out from nearby objects. Well kid looks like Daddy’s on his way, Anti thought to himself.

If the glitch couldn’t get his kicks from the kid, he would get it from Dark.

Dark came from the shadows right in front of Anti, his aura whipping around him threateningly, “Anti!”

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Silver muttered under his breath, Anti was one thing. It was bad enough that Anti had the kid, but he hadn’t done anything with the kid yet. But Dark hated kids, he’d gone on the record for his disdain for children. He didn’t let them get into his network, he didn’t let them get near him. And Dark was already pissed.

“Ahhh,” a little coo came from the kid attached to Anti’s chest and two little hands reached out to touch Dark’s aura.

The act just about gave Silver and Jackie a heart attack. They’d seen adult superheros get hit by Dark’s aura and come out the other side like they’d bent sent through a blender.

Dark jolted when his aura met with something strangely familiar. His aura calmed down without Dark’s permission.

“What is that?” Dark asked, pointing down at the kid, his finger was grabbed by the kid.

“Jeez took yeh fer-fookin-e’er ta show up,” Anti rolled his eyes and took the kid off of him, and shoved the kid into Dark’s arms who looked about ready to drop the kid on the spot. “See if I babysit fer ye fooks again.”

Dark looked actually confused and Anti knew that regardless of if they actually kept the kid, he was going to savor this for the rest of his existence. Anti had never seen Dark twitch and blink so much, the ringing a bit more subdued.

The infant was already sticking Dark’s tie in his mouth and chewing on it.

“Anti!” Dark yelled at him as Anti began walking backwards, a huge smile on his face. Wilford pushed the car out of his way, looking frustrated and angry, the situation successfully escalating. “What am I supposed to do with this thing?”

“Uh, uh,” Anti held up his index finger. “Favor’s done, I charge full price next time.”

Wilford grabbed Anti who started whispering something to him.

Dark however glared at the happy child in hands who he was trying to hold away at arm’s length. He was smiling, drooling all over his tie, which was still loosely hanging from his mouth. Bright dark brown eyes beaming with happiness and his pudgy little arms reaching towards the mob boss.

A slew of questions was going through Dark’s mind:

Why did he give me a kid? Why would he even have a kid? Oh fuck! Is he Wil’s? What am I going to do if it’s Wil’s?

“Uh, Dark?” Silver asked.

Dark let out a little sigh of relief, “Finally you heroes are good for something.”

He turned and held the kid out for Silver. “Here, take the wretch back to its mother.”

Silver seemed to exhale in relief, “Yeah no problem, do you know who—”

“Well if you wanted a break, Darky, all you had to do was ask,” Wil chuckled as he snagged the kid out of Dark’s hands before Silver could take him.

The superhero stared at Wil in absolute horror, realizing that he’d rather have absolutely anyone holding the kid except for Wil.

The little boy let out a startled cry but going completely silent, starting up at Wil with large round eyes. Wil’s almost invisible aura making the kid’s pupils dilate just a little bit.

“Long day, huh Junior?” Wil smiled as the kid reached up for Wil’s curled mustache. “Did you have fun with Uncle Anti?”

“Wil, let’s not play games right now,” Dark demanded. “Give them the child.”

Wil looked confused at that, the baby grabbing at one of Wil’s suspenders and starting to chew on it. “Why? I got done with work early? I can take Junior for the evening.”

Silver and Jackie looked at the baby, Dark and Wilford, and then at each other.

“Wil, it is two in the afternoon, you didn’t get done with anything,” Dark spat, pointing at the cat lying in front of the radio station. “Anti threw a car at you.”

Wilford almost did a double take, staring at the car, “How long has that been there?”

“Give me the child,” Dark demanded, holding his hand out, his aura already trying to pry the baby from Wil’s arms. “Just go back to work and I’ll fix this.”

The baby started fussing and crying, grabbing onto Wil’s shirt.

Wil’s aura snapped into visible sight and Dark’s aura was slapped away, the mad man holding the boy closer to his chest. “You don’t remember Junior?”

“There’s nothing to remember,” Dark spat angrily, his ringing almost shrill, his shell echoing and fracturing. “Anti found some brat off the street, give it to me.”

“He’s ours!” Wil huffed, the baby’s crying was almost shrill, the boy’s ringing cry lost in Dark’s much louder one.

Dark felt the need to strangle Wilford, his fingers itching to summon an axe to bury into his chest. “You stupid idiot, Wil, that child isn’t yours!”

Silver and Jack were trying to get close but the dueling auras didn’t permit it. The situation was quickly spiraling out of control.

Wil let out an offended gasped and quickly slipped through a portal with the infant, almost slicing off part of Dark’s aura when he tried to stop him.

His shell was fragmenting into dozens of copies as Dark stewed in his own caustic anger. Then he screamed in furious anger, most of his aura turning into a caustic, blood red. His aura tore up the pavement and the gate, and just about anything else he could reach.

Dark’s fury turned to Anti who was just cackling off to the side, finding the whole mess utterly hilarious. He was floating off the ground.

He was in front of the glitch demon in an instant, glaring down at him in molten fury. “Where did you get that thing?”

Anti fought for breath before smiling, “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout Daddy, maybe yeh should go catch yer boyfriend ‘fore he kills the kid?”

Dark raked his claws across Anti’s face, narrowly avoiding destroying Anti’s tentatively corporeal form, but stomping into a portal to follow Wil’s decaying magical trail.

Cheering victoriously at himsef, Anti picked himself off the ground and saw one more game to play, Silver and Jackie already putting out a frantic call for a missing baby.

“How long before you think they realize it’s fake?” Anti chuckled, floating next to the two heroes.

“What?” Jackie demanded, pausing in his report of the kid.

“Pffft,” Anti laughed. “Come on, I magicked up a bag ‘a flour an’ stuck a clump ‘a dog hair on it. I mean what kid smiles at that piece of shite? I’m amazed Dark bought the illusion.”

“Anti, if you are fucking with us, and that was a real kid, it’ll die,” Silver threatened darkly.

Anti just laughed, “I wonder if Wil will try an’ make cookies outta it before or after he realizes it’s fake? Did you see Dark’s face when Wil told him no, I didn’t think Bubbles had it in him.”

Then Anti left, chuckling to himself, after all the lab coats had made one brat, if Wil killed it they could just make another one.

Silver and Jackie were just standing in the wake of destruction, unsure what to do.

“What are the chances he’s lying,” Silver demanded, “you’ve known him longer than me.”

Jackie frowned, “I don’t know, Anti doesn’t usually mess with kids, but they stopped crying when Dark first took ‘em, so maybe he’s telling the truth.”

“Let’s put out that APB, if that kid’s real we need to find their mom and fast,” Silver decided.

“Good thinking,” Jackie agreed and the two of them checked that everyone in the station was okay before leaving to find Abe.

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #Egoton Origins #Markiplier #Jacksepticeye #Darkstache #Darkiplier #Wilford Warfstache #Antisepticeye #Bim Trimmer #Prof. Beauregard #Silver Shepherd #Jackieboy Man #technically child endangerment

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thecursedhellblazer-arc · 5 years ago

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For @thedemonconstantine: you didn’t ask for it, but I couldn’t resist so I delivered anyway xD

Look at our idiots together || Accepting !

JOHN & DEMON JOHN

who hogs the duvet Honestly? Both. It’s not even about the damn thing, it’s all a ruse to have an excuse to fight over something, even in a moment that’s supposed to be a quiet one. Most of the times it ends with the poor duvet being forgotten and them shoving at each other, insults flying around, hands fisted in clothes and hair. Then...one thing leads to another, up to a quite predictable finale.

who texts/rings to check how their day is going None of them. John put a tracking rune on his Other, so he always know where he is and he prefers showing up in person to check on whatever he is doing if the Copy heads off somewhere suspicious. As for Demon John, he probably calls and texts John just when his Maker is doing something that requires focusing, with the only aim of annoying the hell out of him. And he does it even if he’s sitting in the next room.

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts Depends on your definition of “creative”. And of “gifts” too. Demon John makes sure to pull out embarrassing “presents” (like stuff they can use in their private time) every time John has company (mostly Tim and Chas, but there was that one time when Zatanna came to visit...Not the best way to let their ex girlfriend know that they are a thing. And that the Copy exists in the first place). John usually retaliates by dumping spells and holy water on his Other’s head, because a bit of “healthy cleansing” never harms. And, if it does, oh, “yeh asked for it, mate”. However, there are very rare moments when they are being oddly civil with each other (and every time it happens Chas starts preparing for yet another Apocalypse, because that has to be a sign) and, in such periods of truce, some actual gifts might happen. John breaks out his best bottles of wine and liquor (the expensive ones he stole or got gifted in the past, the ones he keeps for special occasions) just for the two of them, because he feels like “drinkin’ some better shite”. The Copy pops back from Hell with some rare ingredient or a small artifact he found “by chance” along his way. They never acknowledge it, but it happens.

who gets up first in the morning They tend to get out of bed (or of whatever they have been sleeping in) at the same time, for the mere reason that they have Chas coming in and kicking their asses out of bed (he tries the gentle way first, with the promise of breakfast, but it works only half of the times). If John has a case or a meeting or stuff to do in general, he might be the one to crawl out of bed and leave the Copy to laze among the sheets. Demon John doesn’t necessarily need sleep, but he does anyway because he is a lazy bastard and he likes to taunt John with that fact that he doesn’t need to be up and running while his Maker has to. Plus, maybe, very deep down, part of the truth might be that he likes sharing John’s space and sleeping with him gives him a good excuse to do so.

who suggests new things in bed They are constantly looking for ways to torment each other, so most of the times is a competition to find new ways to push each other out of their comfort zone. For now, they are both losing, because there are very few things that have turned out to be a categorical ‘no’ and, when it happens, it’s usually a shared opinion. This doesn’t stop them from trying, though. On the contrary, it spurs them on even more.

who cries at movies None of them. Usually them watching a movie together means a ton of annoying commentary that irks everyone who happens to be around. There was this one time when they caught Chas getting emotional over a movie, though. Useless to say, the poor man didn’t hear the end of it for weeks and weeks.

who gives unprompted massages Oddly enough, John does, from time to time. They are moments when he has been drinking, but isn’t drunk just yet. The alcohol gives him that bit of liquid courage he needs to admit that he might be craving some physical intimacy that doesn’t involve having heated, complicated, perverted sex, and so he settles behind wherever the Copy is sitting and works his hands all over the Other’s back. Demon John called him out and mocked him about it at first, but he stopped the one time John got really pissed and threatened to stop doing it completely. In the Copy’s defence, no one knows how to work the knots out of your muscles better than yourself.

who fusses over the other when they’re sick No one fusses. On the contrary, whenever one of them is sick or injured (and mostly is John because, demon blood or not, he’s still human), it’s a festival of mockery and making sure the unlucky one gets even more miserable than they already are. It still happens, even if they have tuned it a bit down after an exasperated Zatanna has threatened to put a spell on them both, to make sure that when one of them gets sick, the other does too.

who gets jealous easiest Demon John. It’s just part of his personality, considering that John has tried (and apparently failed) to shove all his worst traits inside him. The fact that they are both natural flirts doesn’t help the issue and the episodes always tend to end in very ugly fights and temporary break-ups. Useless to say, John is forced to hunt down the Copy every single time in the aftermath, because the Other goes around and wreaks havoc (out of spite, he says, but maybe that’s not all that there is to it).

who has the most embarrassing taste in music They have the same exact tastes when it comes to music, so mocking each other every time one of them gets a new tune stuck in his head is something they have quickly stopped doing after they have realised that it usually ends with the both of them having said song stuck in their heads. And, that considered, the only one who gets to tease them about it is Chas. And Tim too, if he happens to be around and in the mood.

who collects something unusual Collecting magical and cursed artifacts is part of what John does for a living. The Copy doesn’t really care for them, unless they are something that can come useful to him in some way, so he normally leaves that sort of oddity to his Maker.

who takes the longest to get ready John can take ages in the shower whenever he is too hangover to process what he is doing or hasn’t slept in days. Demon John takes ages just because he doesn’t really want to get ready for whatever they are supposed to do. Cue to Chas, waiting outside in the cab, drumming his fingers and wondering if he should just head off on his own and have them reach him once they are ready via planeswalking.

who is the most tidy and organised They are both messy as hell. John tries to keep his living space clean, but the only reason why the place isn’t a complete dumpster is because their best friend is patient enough to clean after them. Of course, double John means double mess and double trouble...And Chas should really start asking to get paid.

who gets most excited about the holidays None of them has a real definition of “holiday”. Not in the common sense of the term. For people who live their kind of life, vacations aren’t exactly common, or something they bother with in general. It happens that John decides to take some time off from actively looking for trouble, also because the troubles usually come finding him anyway, and they all go off somewhere that is supposed to be quiet (as quiet as it can be with the pair of them around). It’s not something they get excited about, but it doesn’t mean that they don’t appreciate.

who is the big spoon/little spoon Spooning isn’t something that happens often. Most of the times, they end up tangled in each other, face to face. In any case, as almost everything in their relationship, they go for switching, depending on the mood or simply on whoever has lost their latest bet. The little spoon gets an unhealthy amount of mocking all the way through it, so it’s not a position either of them really looks forward to finding himself in (unless Demon John is really in the mood of being degraded. He makes sure to lose at the games on purpose, in that case).

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports Considering that every chance is good enough to try and best each other, they both are insanely competitive at pretty much everything. They are both incredibly sore losers and cheating is their norm, which makes it an official part of the games. However, the worst happens whenever they are teaming up against some unfortunate opponent, because their competitive streaks sum up and good luck getting out of a game against them in one piece.

who starts the most arguments They both never miss the chance to have a go at the other, but Demon John tends to poke John a bit more often than the magician does. While John loves fighting, there are times when he honestly just wants to enjoy a quiet pint and instead he finds having to deal with his Other being a pain in the ass for the whole night.

who suggests that they buy a pet Aside from John’s occasional fantasies to stash the First in the Chest that Tim has gifted him, none of them are the pet kind of person. Chas, on the other hand, would kill to get a dog or two, so, if they’d ever end up with one or with a hellhound, you know whose fault it is.

what couple traditions they have Does screwing on every surface, available or not, count as one? Aside from that, they take one night per week to go off somewhere on their own, not much for privacy but because John thinks that Chas needs some breathing space. What they do changes every time. They might go somewhere and get drunk, or go off to some other realm and wreak some mostly harmless havoc. From time to time (rarely), they head off to visit one of John’s few mates, because their reaction to the pair of them is always hilarious. Also, when they are drunk, they get the idiotic idea of impersonating each other, because they find it hilarious, for some obscure reason, and switch roles. Chas, Tim and Yoyo are beyond unimpressed.

what tv shows they watch together TV shows aren’t really their thing. At times, they just sprawl on the couch and watch whatever trash it’s airing, for the sake of being able to exchange comments or bicker over it. Watching games is more likely to happen, but in that case Chas is there with them too, and it becomes more of a buddies kind of night.

what other couple they hang out with Double dating is not even up for discussion. It can’t work because it constantly ends up with everyone feeling uncomfortable (aside from Demon John, who always laughs his ass off). There has been one time when they both stalked Chas while he was hanging out with this cute woman he had run into and the ordeal ended into a full-fledged disaster. Zatanna tried to introduce John to her current boyfriend, but of course she should have expected that he would have showed up with the Copy in tow (even if, in John’s defence, he tried to make the Other stay behind). As for whatever girl falls in love with Tim, they really don’t need more rotten luck coming in their way, so they are both forbidden to meet them as a pair.

how they spend time together as a couple Aside from the obvious (which means fucking, drinking, fighting, being a pain in everyone else’s neck), Demon John has taken up the habit of tagging along for John’s (mis)adventures. He usually isn’t very helpful, but John, on good days, appreciates the company in any case. They also go demon hunting together, from time to time, just to have a laugh out of it. The demons who already hate John’s guts are anything but pleased to find out that there are two of them now. Also, during one of his visits, Tim has suggested them this very nice pic-nic spot in Hell, set over a cliff, with a great view of a lava field where some damned souls are being tormented. The ground is mostly burnt, but in some periods of the years the plain also grows some spectacular fire flowers. They smell a bit too much like rotten eggs, but they are quite the sight (”romantic”, Tim has called it). An added bonus is that the place also happens to be property of the current Ruler of Hell and the First is never amused to find the pair making a mess of his field and of each other.

who made the first move It’s a bit difficult to say, because it depends on what should be classified as “first move” in their case. Technically speaking, the sexual (and romantic) part of their relationship started because the Copy kidnapped Tim to get his payback on him for rescuing John from his clutches. However, on the other hand, the one who officially crossed the line during the consequent fight was John. It’s definitely up to interpretation.

who brings flowers home Whoever is in the mood to try and either curse or poison or make the other sick as payback for whatever has been done to him earlier on. Once again, the eventual witnesses to the scene are not impressed.

who is the best cook Considering that Demon John most likely doesn’t even care to learn how to turn the cooker on, it’s John. He has been forced to learn how to put meals together, since he has lived on his own for most of his life. He isn’t stellar, but he can be pretty good when he puts some effort into it. Plus, even if he would never admit it, he finds cooking relaxing from time to time and fun, whenever he chooses to experiment with it (even if that last thing is at very high risk of setting something on fire).

-----

JOHN & CHAS

who hogs the duvet John moves around a lot in his sleep, so he often ends up stealing the thing and then kicking it on the floor. Chas lets him do it and, if he wakes up during the night, he always makes sure to get the duvet back and to tuck in John under it once again. He is aware that it’s pretty useless, because the blanket is fated to fall on the ground once again, but it’s all part of his self-appointed job (namely, taking care of that disaster man he can’t live without).

who texts/rings to check how their day is going Chas. He knows that John isn’t very good at taking care of himself, so he rings in, when they are apart for a prolonged amount of time. The magician doesn’t always pick up or at times he hangs up in his face, but Chas doesn’t take offence. That’s just whom John is. As for John, he doesn’t call or text unless he needs something or wants to share some completely useless piece of information. However, he tends to do the second thing mostly with Chas and Chas only and the latter knows, by now, that it’s his way to tell him that he is alright. You can’t get John Constantine to tell you straight in the face that he cares, but he shows it, in his own weird way. Good thing Chas has learnt to read between the lines a long time before.

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts John brings back the weirdest kinds of souvenirs from his trips, so he definitely wins the price for the oddest gifts. Some of them are completely useless, others are bordering dangerous, but from time to time he also gets his hands on tokens that have a use or can bring some decent luck to their owner. He slips them in Chas’s pockets without saying a word, stealing his cigarettes in the process. Chas’s gifts are more of the normal kind, but he makes sure to get everything John is currently missing, because he is well aware that the other might not go around and buy them until he is desperate. In the end, it doesn’t really matter what exactly he gets him, because John always sees is one thing: Chas being there, having his back all the time, no matter what. And there is no best present than that. Especially because he is absolutely persuaded that he doesn’t deserve any of it.

who gets up first in the morning Chas. He always lets John sleeping in a bit, even when they are supposed to be out and about early. The time to cook him breakfast, at least, especially when the blond has stayed up till almost dawn, doing only God knows what. It’s a bit of a morning routine they have established and they are both quite comfortable with it. Even when Chas is forced to literally kick John out of the bed.

who suggests new things in bed They can both get pretty creative. John has tons of experience from sleeping with non-humans, so he usually is the one who spits out the new ideas, always making sure to tell the whole story while they are sharing drinks or spending a quiet night in. Chas tends to be game for almost everything, because he trusts John and he knows that his best friend comes in very odd flavours, even if he is a bit weary every time there is some spell or magic involved. But damn if he doesn’t prefer having just a more normal fuck from time to time.

who cries at movies As mentioned above, John isn’t very likely to get emotional over a movie...or anything else. Chas is a bit more open with his feelings, even if he doesn’t go as far as crying, and that usually gains him a good amount of teasing. There are certain times, however, when John is in one of his weird moods and some themes might trigger memories or dark thoughts. He closes off and gets sour, even if he doesn’t say anything. Not that he needs to, since his best friend knows him too well to miss the shift. When it happens, Chas usually turns off the TV, saying he has got bored, and they go off for a drink to their favourite pub, or maybe just have a walk or a ride somewhere. John plays along, pretending to believe Chas’s excuses, but he is well aware of what the other man is doing. And those are some of the many moments when he can’t not admit how lucky he is to have Chas with him, in spite of everything.

who gives unprompted massages Usually, it’s Chas. John is almost constantly tense as a wire, even if he is very good at hiding it. Sometimes it’s subtle, with Chas going to stand behind his and rubbing his shoulders for a while, others he bullies the magician into lying down and being still while he gives him a full back rub. John protests every time, but his heart isn’t in it, because he knows he needs it and because Chas works miracles with his hands. It happens, more rarely, that the roles are reversed and John is the one giving the massages. Usually it happens on the days when Chas is missing his daughter more than the usual or when he has been forced into one, long fight on the phone with René. Or after some tough case. John breaks out a bottle of their best gin, pours Chas a glass, downs a shot himself and then gets to work. There’s no talking, but he always spends at least a good hour straddling the other man’s thighs and working on removing every single knot he can find in his muscles. And if Chas happens to doze off in the process, he then grabs the bottle and goes off in the basement, leaving the other man to his well-earned and much needed rest.

who fusses over the other when they’re sick Again, it’s Chas. He fusses and worries and covers John with attentions, even when they aren’t wanted or appreciated and when he gets yelled because the magician just wants to lie down and be miserable. However, no matter what he might say, John still gets soup, fresh sheets,painkillers, and has his alcohol and cigarettes intakes restricted. Moreover, Chas is usually the one doing the patching up after a bad fight or a mission gone wrong. John, instead, sucks at being a nurse, even if he tries from time to time. He tries to be quieter and to give Chas more space to rest. He breaks out the healing spells Zatanna had tried to teach him once upon a time and gets them to work, when normally he can hardly heal a flesh wound with them. He delivers all of it wrapped in a constant dose of teasing, but it’s hard not to miss the care and the attention he puts in every single gesture.

who gets jealous easiest Jealousy is a bit of an odd thing with them. They aren’t together, not in the normal sense of the term, and John still sleeps around from time to time, even if not as much as he used to do. On the other hand, Chas is technically still married to René. They balance it, because they put their friendship before any romantic or sexual attraction they have for each other, but at times it stings. For Chas, it can be hard to see John going off with others, even while they were supposed to be out together. As for John, he sees the looks that some girls (and some men too) give to his best friend and he can’t help the bitterness, even if he knows that Chas wouldn’t do anything about those (hard to tell if it’s because he is still married or because he is trying to stay faithful to John himself). What makes the magician jealous, however, is the awareness that those people could give Chas what he deserves, while he, with the kind of life and choices he makes, would never be able to accomplish it.

who has the most embarrassing taste in music They both have their moments. Sometimes, one of the latest hits gets stuck in their heads and it’s usually some very embarrassing song for teenagers and that always ends in a lot of teasing coming from the other. It’s a bit of a game, with one trying to stop himself from humming along whenever the song is aired on the radio and the other eventually catching up with what’s happening.

who collects something unusual As mentioned above, collecting weird things is part of what John does. Chas helps him out in the basement from time to time, so he has a very good idea of what is stashed down there. He would never admit it to John, but at times he really wishes he could unsee and forget about some of the things he has witnessed in the vault. Especially when some of them end up in John’s mouth. He has seen pretty much a bit of everything, but witnessing his best friend touching and swallowing things that are instinctively revolting still gets to him from time to time.

who takes the longest to get ready They are both pretty quick with getting ready, but John has his moments when he is too gone to be able to coordinate his own movements, whether it is because he’s drunk, because he is too sleep deprived or because his head is completely elsewhere. When that happens, all Chas can do is making sure to have aspirins and coffee at hand and arm himself with a good dose of patience. Thankfully, when it comes to dealing with John, he has a lot to start with.

who is the most tidy and organised Chas. He is the only reason why John doesn’t live in the middle of Chaos. Truth to be told, the magician can clean up after himself, but there are periods when he is obsessed with something or has too many mood swings and he completely forgets about everything that concerns care and self-care. He doesn’t eat enough, he doesn’t sleep enough, he drinks and smokes too much. He leaves everything hanging around, from trash to clothes, to dirty dishes, to empty bottles. He doesn’t listen, he even forgets that Chas is there at times. Eventually, he gets back to his normal self, but they are usually rough periods, for them both.

who gets most excited about the holidays Excited isn’t the right word, but usually it’s Chas. “Holidays” with John means “no more magical shit for some time”, which usually translates in not having anyone trying to kill them and being able to properly relax. Of course, it never lasts because John gets restless too soon, but it’s still a good chance for them to recharge a bit. The holidays Chas gets excited about, instead, are Geraldine’s ones. They are the periods when she gets back from boarding school and he travels back to England to spend time with his daughter. He asks John to tag along every time, but the answer is always a negative one. He doesn’t push, because he expects it, but he can’t help the disappointment. John is and will always been an important part of his life, no matter the status of their relationship and he wished he could be a part of his daughter’s life as well exactly because he is important to him. But, then again, dealing with Constantine means having to find a compromise and he takes what he can, even if it means splitting between the two important people in his life.

who is the big spoon/little spoon They tend to take “turns”, when the cuddling actually happens, which isn’t all the time. John has to be in the mood for it and Chas respects the boundaries, even if, was it up to him, they’d be touching all the time when they are alone. Chas honestly love being allowed to hold John, wrapping himself around him. It gives him the illusion that he can keep the blond there with him, it allows him to forget, for a while, that John is going to slip from his fingers once again, as soon as the moment is over. And, deep down, John likes to he held too, because the gesture gives him a delusion of the peace and the warmth he will most likely never be allowed to have. And he enjoys being the one holding Chas too, from time to time, because it helps him believing that there is something he can give to his best friend that isn’t just misery and grief. He needs to believe that he can protect him, that he can be a decent person for him, that he can make the price of the wonders he shows him worth paying. Chas just basks in the feeling of having John’s arms around him because they are the reminder that, in spite of everything, he is, one way or the other, the one person John fights to keep in his life.

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports They are both pretty competitive, so their matches can get heated, especially when they are drinking their way through it. However, John is a sore loser and a cheater, so he ends up winning most of the times, either because he bends the rules to his own will or because Chas let him win. Antagonising a drunk, overly competitive magician isn’t always the best idea and, while he knows that John would never really harm him beyond repair, experience has taught him that he can been scaringly vindictive when he decides to be.

who starts the most arguments John. He is often careless with his words or too brutally honest when he shouldn’t be. When he is angry, he lashes out, taking all his rage out on the closest person to him. And said person happens to be Chas most of the times. As for Chas, he is usually patient and knows John well enough to know not to bite when the other tries to provoke him on purpose, but there is only so much he can do to bear him when the blond hits all his buttons at the same time. When he is the one to snap, the arguments are always the most vicious and a few times they have ended with John using magic on him, just as he did the day he left London. He has never spoken like that one time again, of course, because that’s one line he doesn’t wish to cross a second time, but they have come close to it in a couple of occasions.

who suggests that they buy a pet Chas likes dogs and he is hellbent on getting one (this is your headcanon and I love it, so here it goes again x’D). John couldn’t care less for having a pet, mostly because they are more of a bother than anything else. Besides, if he had to pick something, he would go for a cat or for a snake, because they are far less trouble. Or some magical creature that can mostly take care of itself. It’s a still ongoing argument, with the result that the only pet they get to have is Yoyo whenever Tim stays with them for some time. Considering the amount of time John spends fighting with the bird, he and Chas have agreed that, whatever happens, their possible future pet won’t have feathers. Of any sort.

what couple traditions they have Their “couple traditions” coincide pretty much with their “best mates traditions”. The watch sports on TV, go out for drinks, have road trips and, from time to time, some sight-seeing. Picking up bar fights might as well be part of the list, considering how often it happens. They also spend their quieter nights on the couch, sharing a beer and talking about their shared past, or about the things they have done while separated. From time to time, when they get nostalgic over their younger years, they end up recreating the settings of their most memorable hook-ups. It’s never the same, and perhaps it’s for the best, but satiated their shared desire for closeness.

what tv shows they watch together They usually go for sports, but it happens from time to time that one of them gets mildly interested in some soap opera or TV show and they watch it together to have a laugh. The most memorable time has been when John forced Chas to binge all eight the seasons of “House, M.D.” and the poor man was forced to hear, among the other things, the magician going about, in every single episode, how the protagonist and his best friend should have just “shut the fuck up n’ fuck already”.

what other couple they hang out with They aren’t officially a couple, so they can’t exactly double date. They see Zatanna and some others of John’s mates, from time to time, but those outings are considered meetings between friends and acquaintances. Alternatively, it’s always the two of them with Tim and Yoyo, and those are, even if none of them uses that term, “family reunions”.

how they spend time together as a couple They do all the things they have always done during the years, after Newcastle and Ravenscar. They act much more like best buddies than anything else, with the addition of the fact that a life with John Constantine includes demons, angels, magic and all the rest of those particular lots. There is always a danger waiting behind the corner, or some sort of Apocalypse they need to stop. Plus, the random hook-ups and the rare, but meaningful moments of tenderness, but those are something they never talk about in the aftermath.

who made the first move John. Back when they first met, he was the one who decided that he wanted to screw the pretty brunet who had fixed his band’s mixer and he was the one to kiss Chas first that very same night. And he was also the one to kiss Chas outside the pub, almost two decades later, before leaving for the States. Moreover, he was the one to send the first text to allow them to reconnect, but that was just because Chas didn’t have his new number or address. Otherwise, they both know that Chas would have reached out first.

who brings flowers home Chas, but he does it for himself, not for John. The place definitely use some colours and, besides, they smell much better than all the potion John insists on preparing in the kitchenette of the cabin.

who is the best cook As stated above, John can manage in the kitchen, but Chas is much better than him and, especially, he’s the one who takes care of the cooking more of the times. It’s the best way to get proper meals at appropriate times. Whenever he leaves it up to John, he ends up having breakfast at 3 in the afternoon and dinner at dawn. Useless to say that, since he likes his routine, he prefers taking the matter in his hands.

#hellblazer #john constantine #demon constantine #chas chandler #* My reality is eleven tenths perception. * ::headcanons::#* If Souls came in Pairs Yours would be the Brighter Half of My Own * ::John&Chas:: {thedemonconstantine}#* You're the Mirror I'm not Afraid to see My Darkness reflected in * ::John&Demon John:: {thedemonconstantine}

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chuffyfan87 · 5 years ago

Text

A Welcome Visitor. Part 3

Cowritten with @fairheads.

-x-

They'd managed to hide the change in the nature of their relationship from her sons and mother but now it was time for the big test - Paul was twelve weeks old and it was Duffy's first day back at work.

Charlie wanted Duffy’s return to work to be as smooth as possible. He had left her house early that morning, sneaking out before the boys were awake again, so they had arrived to work separately.

Unfortunately the boys hadn't gotten the memo about Charlie's wish for a smooth day and Duffy had ended up being over an hour late for her shift.

Charlie had wondered where she’d got to, but had been in resus for much of that hour, dealing with a victim of an RTC. He almost bumped into her as he returned to his office.

"Hi! I'm so sorry I was late! The boys were a nightmare..."

Charlie raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “Good to have you back Nurse Duffin. You’re needed in cubicles.”

"Oh, er, OK..." She replied confused. "And its Sister Duffin..!" She muttered as she headed towards cubicles.

Charlie rubbed his neck, this was going to be harder than he imagined. How could he pretend to everyone else that nothing was happening, when it felt everything had changed?

It was a few hours later, when they ended up working on a case together.

She jumped as his hand brushed against hers.

“You okay?” He whispered.

"Fine. Totally fine."

“Look, I’m sorry about earlier,” He passed her the equipment she needed, touching her hand for longer than necessary.

"Just coz we're sleeping together it doesn't mean you can demote me at the drop of a hat!" She grumbled, though her tone lacked the anger her words implied.

“I panicked, people were watching, you said you wanted to keep it between us, I got it wrong,” He tried to explain. He felt guilty and wanted to make it up to her.

"I just worry people would see it as something sordid." She sighed.

“If they knew, they wouldn’t think that...” He replied, without really thinking.

"My husband has been dead barely six months Charlie!" She fired back before storming out of the cubicle.

Charlie tipped his head back, closed his eyes and exhaled. The day wasn’t going as he planned at all. She seemed to be avoiding him for the rest of the day, purposefully leaving areas if he entered them. It was like a game of cat and mouse.

He finally cornered her outside the department. She'd hidden herself down a little dead end alleyway between two buildings and was talking anxiously on her mobile.

She heard his footsteps and looked up terrified. Charlie waved his hand, “It’s only me,” He announced.

She nodded in acknowledgement. "Mum, look, if you're that worried then bring him here."

Ending the call, she looked super stressed out. Charlie abandoned the conversation he had planned in his head and on noticing her unease, settled for “What’s up?”

"Paul won't take his bottles. Mum says he sounds funny and won't settle."

“Okay, does he have a temperature?” Charlie, ever practical, was trying to put his clinical hat on. “Do you need to go?”

"She didn't say. She was too busy telling me that I should have stayed home longer." Duffy replied, on the verge of tears.

“Hey, this is not your fault.” Charlie wrapped his arms around her. “If you feel you need to go, then you can,” He whispered, kissing the top of her head.

"No, she's bringing him here."

“Okay, we can get Patrick or Lara to take a look at him, or Max, if you’d like?” He added.

"Thanks. Hopefully he's just grouchy..." She didn't sound entirely convinced.

“Hey, look at me,” He raised her chin and she reluctantly looked into his eyes. “It’s going to be okay,” He reassured her, kissing her.

She stepped back from him slightly and gave herself a shake. She forced her shoulders back, her chin up. "I should go back inside." She declared, the nurse's facade firmly back in place.

“See you in there,” Charlie replied, watching her go. He was tired, so much for a good return to work, today had been quite tumultuous already!

Though he tried to keep his distance to try and maintain the show of being 'just friends' he couldn't help but check in with her after Paul was brought in and Lara went to check him over.

“Hey,” He whispered, closing the curtain behind him. Duffy was holding Paul, her mother had gone to get a drink.

"Hi."

“I had to come and see you. How’s he doing? What did Lara say?” Charlie asked.

"He's got a slight temperature but she's not too concerned. She's running some blood and urine tests as a precaution though."

Charlie reached down to the sleeping baby and brushed his cheek gently, “Poor little man.”

Even though he stayed asleep Paul snuggled against Charlie's touch.

“Do you want me to stay with him for a bit? You haven’t stopped today,” Charlie offered.

"I don't want to take you away from something important..."

“It’s not a problem - it’s nearly the end of my shift anyway,” He explained.

"Are you sure?"

“Here, I’ll take him, go get yourself a cuppa,” Charlie reached out to take Paul from her arms.

"I'll only be a few minutes..." She fussed as she handed Paul over.

Paul settled quickly into Charlie’s arms. Charlie rearranged the wires measuring his pulse and temperature. “No problem.” He smiled reassuringly at her, he noticed she looked exhausted.

He'd barely sat down with Paul when a young nurse who had only just started a few days previously appeared around the curtain needing his signature on some paperwork. "Aww, he's so cute! How old is he?" She cooed at Paul.

“He is isn’t he, not far off four months I think?” Charlie puzzled, trying to calculate it in his head, Paul’s fingers tightly curled around his own. “I’m just looking after him while Duffy has a break,” He tried to explain, using his right hand to sign off the documents she needed.

"He's the absolute spit of you!" She grinned as she gazed at the baby.

Charlie laughed awkwardly, “Oh no, Duffy’s husband, Andrew - you know he passed six months ago. Awful.” Charlie was surprised the nurse hadn’t known about what had happened to Andrew and laughed off the assumption that he was Paul’s father.

"Oh!" She blushed. "I didn't realise... I... Um... I just presumed... I saw you give her a hug in the staffroom..." She babbled.

“It’s no problem. Duffy and I have worked together for years, we’re just friends.” He assured her.

"Oh... Please don't tell her I said anything... I'm so embarrassed!"

“It’s fine honestly,” He replied.

Duffy reentered the cubicle. She looked puzzled at the blushing young nurse.

“I’m just going, thanks Charlie,” The nurse mumbled before making a sharp exit.

"What have I told you about frightening the junior nurses!" Duffy chuckled, shaking her head fondly.

Charlie lifted his hand, as if to say ‘what did I do?’ “I didn’t frighten you did I?” He asked.

"Nah, I'd just go slag you off to Susie instead!"

Charlie flushed red. “I dread to think!”

Before Duffy could reply Lara returned with the test results in her hands.

“So we’ve had the results back...” Lara started. Duffy inched closer to Charlie. "He's a little dehydrated but that's to be expected if he's been refusing feeds. His blood work was all fine so there's no infection present in his system. I have made a point of highlighting in his notes that he's A+ though as that's a bit unusual. But that's only a concern if he ever needs a transfusion in the future."

Charlie looked up at Duffy, she looked relieved but at the same time flustered.

"Thank you Lara. Am I OK to take him home now?"

“Sure, keep trying with the feeds, I’m sure he’ll pick up in a few days,” Lara finished scribbling the discharge note and handed it to her. “Take care... all of you,” She looked over at Charlie who was still holding Paul.

"Thank goodness for that." Duffy breathed after Lara left.

“Yeah, good news,” Charlie agreed. “Strange about the blood type - what are you?” He pondered.

"O negative." She mumbled, taking Paul back.

“Ahh, so Andrew must have been A, like me.” Charlie pondered aloud. “Right then, do you need a lift home? Has Kate gone?”

"Um... Yeh..." Duffy swallowed. "She went to fetch the boys from school."

Charlie watched Duffy intently, she seemed to be in a daze. “So you would like a lift?” He asked, confused.

"Oh... Yeh... Please." Duffy gathered her stuff hurriedly.

“I just need to pick up a few things from my office, did you want to come with me or meet me outside?” Charlie asked her.

"Um, I'll meet you out the front." She mumbled.

Charlie left her to gather her belongings and went to his office. What a day! Not the first day back he had hoped for Duffy. He grabbed his coat and car keys and went to meet her out the front.

The atmosphere was still awkward as they got into the car and he drove back to her house.

Barely speaking for the whole of the journey, Charlie pulled up at Duffy’s place.

Duffy was about to get out the car but stopped. She turned to Charlie. "Come on, out with it!" She sighed, her arms folded.

Charlie was taken aback, “What do you mean?” He asked her.

"You've been weird since I went to get a coffee earlier."

“I’m just sorry today didn’t go as we’d hoped, that’s all...” He tailed off.

"It was always going to be a big step. I couldn't help noticing that you kept me out of resus all shift..."

“That’s not true, we already had enough staff in there.”

"Hmm..."

“You know, you’d be my first choice in there, you’re the most competent nurse we have.”

"Most competent?" She echoed.

“Yeah, most qualified, most competent, the best and don’t you forget it!” He poked her tummy playfully.

"That's more like it."

Charlie was pleased he’d managed to make her smile. “Don’t worry, you’re still my number one,” He smiled, poking her again.

She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. Paul was still fast asleep in his car seat.

Charlie kissed her head. “It’s going to be okay.”

"I hope so. It'll be Christmas soon."

“I know... I should go, wouldn’t want your mum and the boys to be spying on us from the window or anything.” Charlie worried.

"I'm sorry for making things so difficult." She sighed.

“I understand, the boys are the most important thing right now.”

"Thank you for being so understanding."

“I’m not saying I wouldn’t want to come in and make it up to you... Right now. But I get it.”

"Mum's agreed to have all three boys the night of the Christmas party so that's something."

Charlie raised his eyebrows, “Oh yeah?” He added.

"Yeh, took some persuading but she agreed in the end."

“You in need of a night out out?” He laughed.

"Something like that." She smiled. Paul started to stir. "I best get him inside."

“I’m looking forward to Christmas now, all of a sudden.” He winked. “See you tomorrow, hope Paul is better by then.”

"Fingers crossed." She smiled before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll let you know." She added as she took Paul out the back of the car. "Thanks for the lift."

“My pleasure.” Charlie waited until they’d gone in before driving off.

#chuffy #charlie and duffy #charlie fairhead #lisa duffin

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spmcomic · 5 years ago

Text

Aftermath

The beeping was like a constant tiny hammer on the back of her head.

She’d never seen anything like this. Nastasia had learned about electricity and technology over their travels, but she’d never been inside a building that felt like it was, in itself, a big machine. The distant but pervasive thrumming, the device ticking off each heartbeat. The clean, curved plastic casings and clean floors. The thin clear tubes stuck to his forearms. She perched on a chair next to the window, looking through the half-open blinds out over a courtyard that may have been cheerful in brighter weather. But for now, the grounds lay as dormant and washed-out as the Count.

Just over the white noise, she could hear O’Chunks and one of the doctors - nurses? - talking softly. It was easy, to let the conversation fade behind the heart monitor, but she forced herself to pay attention. They were talking about him.

“How good is a, eh, Ultra Shroom compared teh th’normal variety?” O’Chunks was straining to keep his voice low.

Nastasia glanced toward the two of them, turning her head almost imperceptibly. The nurse was a tall, pale, slender creature, with long padded fingers tapping a thin pen against a screen shaped like a clipboard.

“It heals all injuries,” the nurse replied. “But he still has to stay here. It doesn’t heal dehydration.”

“But ‘e’ll be good t’go, soon?” Nastasia’s insides turned at the tiny, weak hope in his voice.

The creature made a clicking noise. “I don’t know anything about his species, so it’s hard to tell, but your doctor wrote in her notes here that he’s fried… Oh, that explains it.”

“Fried?”

A pause. Nastasia could just make out their reflections in the window, murky as they were through the thin coat of drizzling rainwater. The nurse looked up from his clipboard. “I couldn’t figure out why he had so much trouble taking the heal,” he blinked, once, taking his time. “But his magic is tied to everything, isn’t it? Arcane-based. No wonder he couldn’t eat properly.”

“What is fried?” O’Chunks pressed, worry creeping into his voice despite his efforts.

“When a caster far overexerts their abilities, it can break the part of them that generates their F.P. Usually they just die, but with help they can survive…” The nurse drew his brows together and looked at the Count as if to ask “what did he try to do?”, but when neither of them clarified, he continued. “After becoming fried, if a caster tries to access their F.P., such as by casting a spell, it will injure them.”

Nastasia’s breathing hitched. She really, really didn’t want to hear the answer to the question she knew O’Chunks would ask next. But ask he did.

“How long does it take teh heal?”

“It doesn’t.”

She flinched.

The nurse continued with only a small pause, perhaps at O’Chunks’ expression. “There are some ways to alleviate-“

The Count jerked abruptly, setting the beeping off-rhythm. More blood trickled from his nose and mouth as he tossed his head from side to side. The nurse hustled over to the monitors and touched the screens a few times with those odd, padded fingers. The Count stopped moving, sweat dampening his forehead as he panted and grimaced. After a moment, the bleeding stopped, and he looked to be less painfully asleep.

“Um, what was that?” the nurse asked, when it was over.

Nastasia sighed, her cold breath fogging up the window. “He casts spells in his sleep sometimes.”

The nurse paused. “He’s going to be in a lot of trouble if that happens often.” He narrowed his pale eyes thoughtfully at his clipboard, tapping the screen a few more times with the pen. “It’s imperative that your mage doesn’t cast any spells. His magic reservoir is tied to too many things. If he zaps himself, he won’t be able to walk, or talk, or see. Or eat, which he will need to do, if he wants to recover his strength after exerting himself at all. He definitely isn’t a candidate for your adventure party anymore.”

O’Chunks said nothing.

“I’ve given him painkillers to make him more comfortable, for now, and I’ll see about digging up something more long-term that can prevent him from casting in his sleep,” he continued. “Moving forward, he can't eat anything harder to digest than toast or crackers. I can find a chart of tonics that will temporarily boost his magic so he can handle eating. And I’ll get a list of common vitamins for casters…” He turned to step out of their tiny room.

“Get him another blanket,” Nastasia mumbled without looking away from the window. The nurse stopped, but didn’t say anything else before he left.

Her eyes drifted to the Count’s blood-soaked clothes, hanging off the wall in her corner of the room. She bit at her lip, unable to look away.

O’Chunks sighed as he settled his weight against the wall next to her chair and sank to the floor, stretching out his knees. “We have t’just throw them out, Nassy. They’re ruined.”

She shook her head. “We just have to wait for him to wake up.”

O’Chunks grunted, but didn’t argue. Nastasia gritted her teeth and rested her forehead in her fists against the windowsill. The Count wouldn’t be cleaning any clothes, now. He wouldn’t be fixing their pots or their tent. No lights to guide them at night, no casual effects here and there for their convenience or comfort. There would be no way to avoid frequent stops at towns for resupplies. Their safety would always be at more risk. She had ruined him.

The tears were just audible over the gentle misty rain as they hit the windowsill. That was the only sound, for a while, interrupted only by the heartbeat monitor.

“I-I want to try to clean them,” she said, eventually. “A-and the skirt. I don’t think… I don’t think we can replace that.”

O’Chunks leaned his head back against the wall and tugged at his beard. He still hadn’t stolen a moment to clean up. He had insisted she take that agonizing first period of waiting time to put on an undamaged shirt, that he would keep watch while she washed her hair. It had been a kindness, to let her keep herself busy for a few minutes, but now a distractible shard of her couldn’t help but disapprove of how dirty he was compared to the rest of the room.

He took a deep, slow breath. “He needed a new bag anyhow. Don’t worry ‘bout tha’ one. Th’rest… Methinks they clean up blood ‘ere a lot, if’n yeh wanna give it a go.”

The heart monitor changed its rhythm, so Nastasia and O’Chunks turned their attention toward the Count. He hadn’t moved except to open his dull, near-colorless eyes. He must have heard them talking. His gaze slid lazily over to the window and came to rest on the two of them. Nastasia cleared her throat and stood abruptly. She stiffly grabbed up his clothes in her arms and marched out of the room, leaving O’Chunks half-curled up against the wall.

…

O’Chunks squinted his eyes closed and cursed internally. They were going to have to tell the Count what had happened to him. They were going to have to tell the Count what had happened to him more than once.

“’Ey, Count,” he began. His throat felt too dry to give the full lecture. The Count was drugged anyway, his eyes glazed over and uncomprehending, but O’Chunks hoped that even a little information might start getting through if he brought it up as soon as possible. “Th’doctors here did a number on yeh. We were real worried, fer a bit, but yeh pulled through, yeah?”

He fussed over his fingernails. “Uh, so, th’nurse here said yeh’re fried…” The corners of his mouth tugged erratically as he wrestled to get himself under control. Stars above, he was holding it together even worse than Nassy. “… So yeh cannae… cast spells, anymore.” He looked up from his muddy fingers at the Count.

The Count only stared at him for a moment longer, and then closed his eyes again. That could have gone worse.

But the scene was distressingly familiar. The lad had barely survived, permanently injured, after such a betrayal… Utterly alone. There was nothing that had made him feel better, at his lowest, and there was certainly nothing they could do to make the Count feel better now. He could only hope the Count would learn to adjust, with time. He stared down at his hands, propped limply against his knees, but couldn’t find it in himself to pick at his fingernails again. The room was big enough for two beds, but somehow the walls were pressing in against him.

In desperation he cast his eye wildly around the room. There- in the top corner- a television propped in a harness. The moving image was incomprehensible for a moment, but he forced himself to blink and focus in on the program. Good thing no one had come in and caught him gawking like a suffocating fish at the tiny screen.

It was some kind of sports game. If he squinted, he could just catch the flashes of captioned commentary… Jousting, that was the word that kept coming up. The image was disorienting, but it only took him a moment to start making out the giant colorful birds draped in glittering cloth, ridden by relatively tiny creatures with lances. That was something to start with.

He glanced at the Count. At the inns, they had liked to find the sports games on each world. It had become a game of its own to try and guess the rules before the end. This one would have been really exciting… Tiny dark spots flashed around between the birds, and when the camera angle changed O’Chunks realized that they must be flying the cameras between the players in the arena. What a show.

He wondered if the Count would ever want to play games with them again, or spend time around them at all. He couldn’t imagine sitting down at the dinner table next to the man who had taken everything from him. And, alas, Nassy… How would she adjust to the coming change? Was there anything he could do about that at all?

The room still felt so cramped, but O’Chunks felt so small. The heart monitor continued, uninterrupted.

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index

start at the beginning

#spm #super paper mario #paper mario #nastasia #count bleck #o'chunks #arc 5

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rfsak2 · 7 years ago

Text

Cactus, Part VI

I hope you like this! If you are leave me a like so I know people are reading and enjoying this! Thanks so much guys!!

Cactus, Part VI Summary: They had expected this after all. Harry/Jamie Warnings: Not really

It wasn’t, strictly speaking, unusual to see paparazzi outside of a recording studio in LA. Usually Jamie could just skirt the crowd and make it to her Jeep without too much of a fuss. It was only really inconvenient when they blocked the parking lot.

So when Jamie saw the accumulating vultures, she sighed, said a prayer for the poor sap they were waiting for, slipped her sunglasses on against the hot LA sun and tried to plan the best way around them.

She pushed the door open and cheated to the left, making for the parking lot with unhurried, ultimately unworried steps.

After all they weren’t there for her.

“Hey!”

She kept walking. Maybe someone got wind of the newest teeny-bopper working in the studio. Sometimes said teeny-bopper’s media team was astute enough to start the buzz early.

“Hey!”

“Are you Jamie Schwartz?”

She almost stopped, but something in her told her to keep walking, to pretend like she hadn’t heard them.

A hand grabbed her arm and she spun with the jumpiness that living in LA ingrained in you. “What?”

“Are you Jamie Schwartz?”

That same intuitive voice, who was beginning to sound like Harry, told her to say ‘no,’ so she shrugged, feeling conspicuously nonchalant. “No.”

The pap didn’t seem too impressed with her and bought the lie with ease.

“Shit! Did she leave already?”

She shrugged again. “You sure she works at Columbia?”

The man shrugged helplessly.

Then she turned and left, forcing herself to be calm, to resist the urge to peel out of the parking lot like a mad woman. She stowed her guitar safely away in the back seat and calmly walked around the car.

She backed out, slowly and calmly, thanking the powers that be that she had never let her mom put a monogram sticker on her car. As she shifted into drive, she waved cheerily at the paps who were still waiting and left, driving to the restaurant where Harry and the tour band were going to be getting dinner before going to rehearsal.

She pulled in next to Harry’s Range Rover and peeked around her car as she was getting out, making sure that she hadn’t been followed.

Satisfied that her little cloak and dagger game had worked, she smiled and made her way into the restaurant.

She set her sunglasses on her head and smiled at the hostess. “Hey, I’m with a party-“

“Mr. Styles told us to expect you, Ms. Schwartz. This way, ma’am.”

She nodded and followed the girl through the restaurant to a private, back dining room where the whole band and the roadies were waiting on her.

“Sorry, I’m late.” She popped Mitch lightly on the back of the head and dropped a kiss on Harry’s hair.

“It’s fine, love. How was the studio? I went ahead and ordered for you.” Harry grinned and reached over to pull out her seat.

“Perfect.” She hung her purse on her seat and scooted the chair under the table, accepting Harry’s chaste kiss. “Studio was fine.” She smiled. “The girl’s got talent. Be interested to see how it turns out.”

Clara smiled and sipped at her water. “What are you working on?”

“Columbia wanted me to help write some guitar parts for a new talent’s demo. I delivered them today.” She smiled at the waiter when she set a cocktail in front of her. “Now I am free and clear for the tour!”

She waited until the food got there to lean over to Harry. “So… I had my first experience with the paparazzi today.”

Harry stiffened. “What?”

She smiled. “They were waiting for me outside of the studio, but I don’t think they really recognized me. One of them asked if I was Jamie Schwartz.”

“What did you say?”

She shrugged. “No.”

He grinned. “And they bought it?”

“Yep. I kept expecting one of them to follow me but the didn’t.” She laughed.

“Well done you.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Just started and already trollin’ the media.”

She kissed his cheek.

She nodded at Mitch. “Kiwi is yours and Carolina. I’ve got Woman and Only Angel.”

Mitch nodded, scribbling some notes on a piece of paper. You wanna split the covers?”

“Yeah, that’s good. Do you have a preference?”

“I’ll take The Chain and Stockholm.”

She grinned. “We’ll have to fight over The Chain. That leaves me with That’s What Makes You Beautiful and Just a Little Bit of Your Heart.” She looked over a copy of the setlist and filled in names next to each song. “Sign of the Times? Should we just switch off? It’s the finale after all.”

Mitch smiled. “Whoever doesn’t do The Chain gets Sign of the Times.”

“Oh! Yeah that works. I’ll take Ever Since New York and Two Ghosts. Then, if you’re cool with it, take Sweet Creature and Meet Me in the Hallway and I’ll take From the Dining Table since you’ll probably end up doing Kiwi at least twice a night. Sound Good?” Mitch nodded and she scribbled it in, smiling as she felt Harry sidle up behind her. He set her mug in front of her, having been cleaned of the remnants of the three cups of tea she had drinking over the course of the rehearsal. “Hello, dear. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He chuckled and reached under her arm to turn the setlist so he could read it. “Your handwriting is ‘orrible.”

“You’re dismissed, Mr. Styles, thank you.”

He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, laughing. “I love that yeh decided to wait to like a day before the first show to decide this.”

Mitch grinned. “We waited to finalize it, but this is what we’ve been doing anyway.”

“Does it meet with your approval, boss man?”

He nodded. “If that’s what yeh two want, then that’s fine with me.”

“Then it is finalized. The instruments are packed, The equipment is stowed, the setlist is finalized, the wardrobe is packed…” She turned and slid her arms around Harry’s waist. “Seems like we’re ready to go.”

He grinned, reaching out to pull Mitch into the hug as well. “It’s happening! We’re goin’ on tour!”

He laid a smacking kiss on Mitch’s temple and leant down to kiss her. “Thank yeh both. This wouldn’t be happenin’ without yeh.”

She grinned up at him, arms tight around his waist. “Nah, it would, Haz, it would. It just wouldn’t sound as good.”

Mitch chuckled and high-fived her. “Jamie-Wamie for the win!”

Harry laughed. “Whatever the case may be, thank yeh. I love yeh both.”

They both hugged him, the three of them rocking each other gently back and forth.

“Shall we then?” She yawned, still leaning against Harry. “I need some sleep if you want me to wake up well at that ungodly time in the morning.” She put her papers in her purse and swung it over her shoulder.

Harry shook his head. “Love, I know yeh. There is no waking up well.” He pulled her against his side and together they started their way to the front of the practice venue.

“Ain’t that the truth. You’re like a living fairy tale, Jamie-Wamie.”

She frowned. “How so?”

“Evil, angry little monster in the morning and-”

“A beautiful, princess in the morning and the whole rest of the day!” Harry beamed.

Mitch made a face. “I wasn’t going to go that far. I was thinking ‘passably tolerable human being’.”

She mimicked his face. “Look here, Bitchy-Mitchy, you’re no peach either. They should make you into a bloody Snickers commercial.”

“Bite me, Jamie.”

“Children.” Harry made a placating gesture. “I’m gonna make you a get-along shirt.”

“Yes, Dad.” Mitch pushed the door open, with a grin, and waved. “Anyways, I’ll see you in the morning, lovebirds.”

“See ya.” She stuck her tongue out at Mitch and went to follow him out of the door.

Harry grinned, hand low on her back. “Did you want me to wake you up early enough that you have enough time to wake up? Or would you rather I just let you sleep on the plane?”

Hand on the door, she turned back to Harry. “I’ll have you know that I’m an ad-” She pushed open the door and gaped, letting it close again. “Harry?”

“Shit.” He paused and looked back, motioning for one of his security guards. “Love, yer stayin’ at mine tonight?”

She nodded and watched as yet more people rushed the doors, shouting for Harry.

Harry grabbed her hand gently and turned her toward him. “Would it be okay with yeh if I have one of my guys drive yer car to mine? Yeh can ride with me. I don’t want yeh driving through all this alone. Feel better if yer in me car wi’ me.”

She nodded. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best.” She dug her keys out and passed them to the closest guard. “Be careful with my baby.”

The security guard grinned and nodded. “Will do, ma’am.”

Harry kissed her hair. “We knew it was going to happen eventually.”

She reached up and pulled him down for a kiss she was sure they were photographing on the other side of the glass. “Yeah, we did.” She smiled. “It’ll be okay. We can handle this.”

He nodded and pushed open the door, his other hand squeezing hers. He glanced back at her. “I love yeh, monster.”

“I love you too, baby.” She threaded their fingers together. “Let’s do this shit.”

“Who is Jamie Schwartz?”

She paused and looked up at Harry who was frowning, eyebrows down over his eyes as he passed another shirt over to Lou.

“‘Scuse me, Lou.”

Lou nodded and followed Harry and Jamie as they made their way into the living area of their suite.

The tv had been set to the local news, now a grainy paparazzi picture of her, complete with sunglasses and a jacket she hadn’t worn for at least six months, dominated the screen.

“Back in July, at the London premiere of Dunkirk, Harry Styles, singer and former One Direction heartthrob, revealed that he had a girlfriend, rather cryptically referring to her simply as ‘My Girlfriend,’ despite repeated questions from the Press. Last week it was revealed that the mystery blonde woman seen at the premiere, was the same woman who’d been gracing the stage as one of the guitarists in the singer’s band. The question now is: Who is Jamie Schwartz, how’d she meet Hazza and how long have they been dating?”

The picture faded out and the camera panned over a small panel of entertainment news ‘correspondents’. A blonde woman smiled at the camera. “Here’s what we know: Jamie Schwartz is an twenty-two-year-old studio guitarist with Columbia records from San Antonio, Texas. Her work has been featured in the works of artists as varied as Daft Punk and Willie Nelson to John Legend and John Mayer. She is also the lead guitarist of a indie country-rock band called Spike and Devil and one of two harmonic guitarists in Styles’ tour band.”

Another ‘correspondent’ smiled. “That’s rather impressive.”

The original woman smiled and nodded. “I agree. She is rumoured to be rather well-known amongst the music industry in LA and Nashville and is apparently an in-demand talent.”

“This isn’t too bad…”

Harry sat and pulled Jamie into his lap. “Let’s wait til the end, love. These things have a tendency to get a bit out of control.”

“She is listed among the writers on Styles’ new self-titled album, apparently co-writing guitar parts with Mitchell Rowland. Since we know that most of the album was written in Jamaica, we can assume that the couple met there. We know that despite playing guitar at every one of Styles’ promotional performances in the Spring, no one seemed to put two and two together when she was photographed at dinner and kissing the singer in June.”

One of the panel members, a brunette woman, laughed. “Who dropped that ball, am I right? Like how do you miss that a curlyheaded, tattooed blonde woman seems to be everywhere that Harry Styles is especially when there are pictures of Harry effin’ Styles kissing a curlyheaded, tattooed blonde woman. Someone done messed up.”

Harry grinned against her shoulder. “I did always wonder how they didn’t figure that out.”

“They weren’t there to look at us, they were there to look at you.” She kissed his forehead. “That they didn’t notice me means I was doin’ my job and not distracting anyone from you.”

“We also know that she is going to be a media troll. Watch this video, taken last week in LA by paparazzi:

‘Are you Jamie Schwartz?’ ‘No.’ ‘Shit! Did she leave already?’ ‘You sure she works for Columbia?’

Harry laughed against her shoulder as the brunette on the show hit the table in front of her. “I don’t blame Harry for wanting to date this girl. I want to date her. That was the living embodiment of that ‘deal with it’ meme.”

“When confronted by the same paparazzi and asked why she lied, she apparently shrugged and said ‘Do you blame me?’ What we don’t know is how long the couple have been dating. They very easily could’ve started dating in Jamaica, which would mean that they are nearing their first anniversary, or at any time since. They were, of course, seen getting cozy in a Tex-Mex restaurant in LA in June, good on Haz for embracing his lady-love’s culture. Any thoughts?”

The man on the panel, the only who hadn’t spoken yet, decided to give his opinion, a vaguely sour look on his face. “I just don’t get it. He could have anyone he wanted. He’s dated models and probably had sex with some of the most attractive women on the planet and he’s dating edgy alt-Taylor Swift?”

The brunette frowned. “What are you? An idiot?”

Harry nodded. “Yes, he is.”

“Oh I’m sorry! Short, fat alt-Taylor.” The man shrugged. “She must be good in bed.”

“Why does anyone want to spend their time talking about this shit?” She turned to face Harry. “Who wakes up in the morning and says to themselves, ‘I think it’s a good day to opine on the lives of people I’ve never met and then sit and criticize them? I don’t understand.”

“I don’t even know.” He kissed her softly. “Don’t listen to it. Yer beautiful and I love yeh…” He tried for a grin, trying to cheer her up, make her smile. “Yeh are good in bed, I won’t argue with that but that’s not why I’m with yeh and I know yeh know that.”

She kissed his forehead. “I know, baby. I love you, too. I’m just a bit shocked, is all. I expected something like this but...fuck.” She leaned against him, her chin against his hair. “I hate that you had to go through all of this alone.”

“Alone, love?”

She nodded. “I have you, so this is unpleasant but I have you and I can handle it. I just can’t imagine.”

“Yeh are a fantastic human being.” Harry kissed her. “I am so in love with yeh. Truly. I’m sorry he’s a dickhead, love.”

“It’s not your fault. I want to find that man and punch him.”

“I want to help yeh.”

“So it begins,” she whispered to Mitch as she checked her connections and made sure her pedals were in easy reach.

Mitch chuckled, doing the same, and then grinned at her. “Nervous?”

She shrugged. “I don’t want anything to distract from this. I’m worried that all this shit about our relationship will.. will- I don’t want people to come here expecting some sort of relationship side-show. I want them to be here because they love Harry and they love his music. I don’t want to be a distraction or for it to seem like this relationship is some media plow on either of our parts.”

Mitch reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “No one who really knows either of you or has ever been in the same room with you two, can possibly think that. It doesn’t make sense. You two are some of the most genuine people I have ever met and anyone can see how much you love each other. It won’t be a distraction. There will be some fans who bring that stuff in here but he has an established fanbase and they were coming whether he was in a relationship or not. Just do good work and it’ll be fine.”

She nodded. “Thanks, Mitch. Love ya.”

“How many times have you said that exact same sentence to me?” Mitch shrugged. “‘Just do good work and it’ll be fine.’ ‘Don’t worry, Mitchy-moo, just do good work.’ ‘You can do it. Just do good work.’ I’m just reminding you of your own advice, Jamie-Wamie. Also love ya too.”

She smiled and got set, eyes on Harry’s back as he took his spot on the stage. This is really happening.

Harry turned and blew her a kiss and she caught it before returning it. “I’d say break a leg but you’d take it seriously and you’ve got eighty-something tour dates to keep.”

He laughed, hand over his mic. He mouthed ‘I love you’ and she mouthed it back.

He turned and counted off quietly. They started Ever Since New York and the lights lit him up against the screen and they could hear the crowd go wild. She smiled against the riot of emotion and pride and sheer love she had for the man at the microphone. The screen fell and the crowd exploded.

They performed the first few songs and then Harry took a break to chat with his fans. Her and Mitch shuffled around, changing guitars.

“What is #TeamHarmie?”

She ignored it, grabbing a hollow body electric for Sweet Creature while Mitch picked up his electric.

“Monster!”

She turned suddenly, staring at Harry confused, and leaned into her mic. “Yes, baby?”

The crowd aww’d and she blushed, having forgotten what exactly was happening.

Harry smiled, still at his mic. “What do yeh think Team Harmie is?”

She shrugged, adjusting her guitar on her shoulder. “Dunno. What is it?”

“Harmie is our couple name apparently.” He grinned. “And Team Harmie are the people who ship us, I think it’s called.”

She chuckled. “Okay. I dig it.”

He grinned. “I love that. I also want to put forward #TeamJarry, because of equality, and #TeamShoeObsession, because she’s as bad as me and don’t let her lie to yeh.”

Part V Part VII

#harry styles #harry styles/reader #harry styles/oc #harry styles fanfiction

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tellywoodtrash · 7 years ago

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ishqbaaz 19.07.17 lb

plain text version here.

… for fucksssssss sake, are they ever going to feed this poor baby? 😥😥😥

oh god, please don’t make shivaay sing. please. 😣😣😣

nakuul’s using his NAKUUL voice to sing, instead of his SHIVAAY voice. 🙃🙃🙃

baby has amazing “bitch, what the fuck?” face 😆😆😆

might be shivaay’s baby. purely based on that look.

“achcha hua bhavya yahaan pe nahi hai warna bachche ko harass karne ke chakkar mein andar ho jaate faaltu mein.”

snort. 😂😂😂

also, the look of betrayal on shivaay’s face that rudra agrees with anika re: his singing. 😆😆😆

“shivaay teri besuri awaaz pehli baar kaam mein aayi hai!”

more like baby thought “ok if i stay awake he’ll sing to me even more, so best if i just pretend to sleep so that he’ll stop” 😕😕😕

obros have wizened up to first rule of baby management: sleep when the baby does. 😌😌😌

why the F would they need WALKIE TALKIES, when they have PHONES and whatsapp/texting??? lord. 🙄🙄🙄

god, the girls are being hella annoying. 😒😒😒

pffffffffft. “nayi soch” being plugged. 🙄🙄🙄

ugh, the girls have managed to get a tagline even more annoying than LAUNDE HAI KAMAAL KE. i liked naaari ssssakti jindabaad better. 😣😣😣

ok very random change of scene. 😕😕😕

omkara us room se nikle toh milaaati. 😑😑😑

om @ crying baby: dekh beta, zindagi bohuttttt badi hai, roke kuch nahi milne waala. learn to face your problems.

this is exactly the kinda shit i tell crying babies and barking dogs and basically anything that’s making an uneccesary ruckus. 😐😐😐

24 HOURS LATER… CAMBRIDGE GRAD, BUSINESSMAN OF THE YEAR, IS FINALLY LIKE “HM. COULD IT BE POSSIBLE THAT PERHAPS THIS TINY HUMAN IS HUNGRY? MAYBE? JUST A SUGGESTION?” 😒😒😒

lol pooooor rudra. shivaay is straight up bullying him. 😂😂😂

“bhagwan ke liye, protein powder daalke mat laana.”

hahahahaha. good thing that was clarified, otherwise he fully would have. 😆😆😆

shivaay’s little squeal/snort at rudra saying he’ll only be back after 100 pushups. coz he knows rudra can’t even do 10 crunches without dying. 100 pushups my ass. 🙄🙄🙄

shivaay is strictly opposed to the name “BUNTY”. it might not be his baby, but any baby in his care should have a naam with some class and weight and tadi. 😌😌😌

it’s confirmed that it’s a boy? 🤔🤔🤔

ohhhhhhhh boy. shivaay’s being left alone with the baby. he’s going to talk about the stock market to it (like how he used to talk about inflation rate to baby rudra)

a ha! anika is going to pounce on opportunity! 😁😁😁

Awareness™. 😍😍😍

oh ho ho ho, faraq games again. baby ke saamne bhi. 😐😐😐

how is she not seeing the damn baby? IT’S RIGHT ON THE BED, IN A BASKET FESTOONED WITH RIBBONS AND WHAT NOT. NOT EXACTLY SUBTLE. 😟😟😟

… how anticlimactic. i can’t quite read shivaay’s mood re: anika’s monologue. touched and hopeful, that she still loves and cares about him? discomfited, that he never stopped caring about her despite how she betrayed him? what’s happening inside that sleep deprived head of yours billu? 🤔🤔🤔

this scene was really weird to me; it didn’t have that usual magic that shivika scenes usually have. something about it was really flat and boring. 😕😕😕

SHE NOTICED HIS LAPTOP SCREEN WAALA BACHCHA, NOT THE ACTUAL JEETA JAAGTA HUA BACHCHA 2 FEET BEHIND HIM. 😒😒😒

also lmaoooo did he just google “how to take care of a baby”? #theMillenialWayToParenting 😂😂😂

… yeah, he literally never said he didn’t like kids? he’s shivaay singh oberoi. his priority is naam khoon khaandaan. a baby is a pretty essential part of passing on the lineage. 😗😗😗

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. OHHHHHHHHHH THEY BROUGHT MY FAVT SCENE BACK UP. YAAAAAAS. 🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽

also, he said that it doesn’t matter if YOU couldn’t give him a child. not that he didn’t want children at all. they’re not the same thing. 😐😐😐

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! HOW TO BHOOL JAO AND MOVE ON???? IT WAS THE MOST POIGNANT THING YOU EVER SAID TO HER. EVERRRRRRR. 😭😭😭😭😭

ohhhhhhhh boy. this conversation just took a detourrrr. she thinks he wants a naam khoon khaandaan waala baby with ragini. oh girlllllllllll. 😫😫😫

he’s getting super mad that she thinks he wants a baby, that too with anyone else but her. god anika, you’re so damn stupid. 😣😣😣

oh my godddd you idiotssssssssss. what a hottttt messss this isssssss. neither of you want anything than to be together forever with the other one. stop accusing each other of god knows what else. 😪😪😪

“jis din tum yeh sentence ko complete karogi… tab baat karenge hum.”

siiiiiiiiiiiiigh. you twooooooooooo. 😭😭😭😭😭😭 you two need less talking and more making out. and fucking therapy. you definitely need extensive amounts of therapy. 😕😕😕

ouff, idhar gauri ke maa waale issues. why can’t she just tell him to pretend for a few days, like she did for his fam? awaiii baat ka batangad. 🙄🙄🙄

ouff, meanwhile dumbell oberoi is sidetracked. 😒😒😒

lmao jhanvi encouraging gauri to be mad at om, and om’s eyeroll like PLEASE MOM, SHE’S ALREADY MAD AT ME DON’T ENCOURAGE HER I CAN’T TAKE IT WHEN THE TINY CUTIE GETS ALL SHOUTY 😣😣😣

ouff, don’t care about this ruVya scene at all. 😑😑😑

my god, this acp is kuch zyaaada hi. stay in your lane, girl. who even are you to ask him all this? 😒😒😒

omggg gauriiiiiiiii just telllllll him. 😫😫😫

“ajeeeeeeeeb aurat hai!” 😂😂😂

lollllll her snark. so wifely. “you wanna go spend time with the boys? FINE!!!!!!!!!!!” 😆😆😆

heeee heeee, omkara’s dimaag ke phurzeeee are finally turning. 🙃🙃🙃

DID SHIVAAY JUST LEAVE THE BABY UNSUPERVISED, WHILE HE WENT AND GOT CHANGED? GOD. 😧😧😧

lmao baby ke liye DOODH MEIN COCKTAIL STRAW. 😂😂😂

tellywoodtrash presents: a face journey, by shivaay singh oberoi.

“nahi pata mujhe! maine bachche nahi paale na!” “common sense bhi nahi paali kya???”

snort. sassy singh oberoi’s lack of sleep is getting to him. 😆😆😆

OMG YES, CALL HIM OUT, HE’S ALWAYS GOING ON ABOUT HOW HE “RAISED” YOU TWO! PUT HIM TO THE TEST! 🙃🙃🙃

LOL, om knows that there’s no such thing as privacy in this house and that the girls will instantly open anything that comes in shivaay’s name. 😗😗😗

THIS WALKIE TALKIE NONSENSE IS SO FUCKING STUPID. 😒😒😒

“sipaaahi samajh mein nahi aata aapko?”

A+ bitch face, anika.

also, the snark levels in this household are at an alllll time high today. it’s amazing and i love it. 😂😂😂

fun fact: shivaay thinks titanic is the world’s best film. a bold and unexpected choice. 😐😐😐

“shawshank redemption?” “…. shashank? 🤔🤔🤔”

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

how does shivaay not know sholay? how is that even possible? 😐😐😐

OMFG I RELATE SO MUCH WITH ANIKA’S ANGER AND RAGE AT SOMEONE WHO HASN’T WATCHED/LIKED THE MOVIES I LOVE. I LITERALLY TELL THEM TO GTFO MY SIGHT TOO. 😶😶😶

“world’s best movie. SH se naam shuru hota hai.” “DDLJ?”

man, it’s a good thing that the oberois have a family business they can shove rudra into, kyunki job toh isse milne se rahi. 😑😑😑

his big plan is to fucking call ragini?!!?!? INSTEAD OF KHANNA?????? 😯😯😯

“basanti bhaujaai” 😆😆😆

damn, so much envy at ragini’s super flat stomach. that’s it, i’m going on an all cucumber diet from today. 😥😥😥

riiiiiiiiiiight after i finish the fries i’m eating right now. 🤐🤐🤐

ragini’s CAPE though. the collar makes her look like:

lmaooooo, rudra wishing for the first and last time ever that anika doesn’t fuck ragini up. 😂😂😂

yup. they’re bullying him into doing it again. man, thank god i have no siblings. 😕😕😕

meanwhile, omkara is going on his own side quest. 😑😑😑

lol anika and ragini’s utterly fake smiles at each other. 😆😆😆

anika is proposing friendship. aw mannnn, i wish this was real. yougaiz know how much i love girl love. 👯🏽👯🏽👯🏽

OMG RAGINI HAS THE WRONG PACKAGE 😯😯😯

anika’s realllllllllly trying. she might sprain something from the effort of being nice to ragini. 😂😂😂

wooooop. her face changed instantly when she found out it’s a gift from shivaay. all friendly feelings have flown out the window. 😗😗😗

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA rudra’s face at the girls’ fighting. 🤣🤣🤣

(the camera work on that, the way they revealed him was realllllly good. extra hilarious. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣)

what is this ghadiiiiii? did svetlana send it to tej? 🤔🤔🤔

LMAO OMG RAGINI’S “HEIN” AT THE EMPTY BOX 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

AND OMGGGGGGG ANIKA’S ATTEMPT NOT TO LAUGH HAHAHAHAHAHA 😆😆😆

THIS WALKIE TALKIE NONSENSE IS ANNOYING ME SO MUCH. 😤😤😤

anika’s victorious fist pump at ragini’s bezzati. amazing. 😆😆😆

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh boy. RUN GAURI RUN! 😬😬😬

too late!!!!!!!!!!!! 😧😧😧

om seems to be totally ok and happy to meet saasumaa. 😗😗😗

*in the gentlest voice ever, and with a gentle smile* “gauri, bataaya nahi maa aayi hai?”

i instantly teared up. i just can’t believe that my old soft omki is back???? 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

(also i am pms-ing and anything and everything will make me cry.)

yup. not that your daughter threw me out of my own room and slammed the door in my face or anything. nope. 😶😶😶

idgaf, give him #BestPati at the #StarParivaarAwards2018 already. who could possibly top this? who? no one, that’s it. 😑😑😑

omki is our king (sing to tune of “weasley is our king”) 🤴🏽🤴🏽🤴🏽

gauri’s face be like “who are you and where’s my Nandi Bel waala husband?” 🤔🤔🤔

god i am in fucking love with him. my obsession and love from 2016 just came roaaaaaaring back fulllll zorrrr shorrrrr se. #omkaraIsBae 😍😍😍

gauri also just fell waaaaay more in love with hubs. i was here first, but ok, i shall step aside for my queen. 😌😌😌

hawwwwwwww, he palat-ed! he lovesssss her toooo. my beautiful soft and silent babiesssssss. they give my dil such sukoon. 💖💖💖

unlike those other idiot babies of mine who are giving me heartache and grey hairs. 😩😩😩

ARRE WAH! SMART BOIIIIIII RUDY. 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

lmao ok, pretty sure this is nakuul and kunal fussing over the baby in this scene and not shivaay and om. 😊😊😊

“BUT PAPPU CAN’T DANCE!”

hahahahahahaha. this is why i love omki best. so self aware. 😂😂😂

oh lord. naach gaana. oufffffff. 🤦🏽🤦🏽🤦🏽

i have never seen shivaay this animated in my life. ever. 😐😐😐

again, because this is nakuul, and not shivaay. i think the director was basically like “last 5 min of the episode, no one gives a shit anyway, go wild mehta. do your thang.” and do his thang, he did. 😚😚😚

ok bohut dekh liya yeh naach gaana. fwding. coz too much michmichi. gimme the precap already. 😒😒

LAUNDRY BASKET MEIN BUNTY THA. 😧😧😧

JFCCCCCCCC AND YOU COULDN’T TELL HIM THAT BEFORE?!?!?!!?! IDIOT OMKI. 😣😣😣

GOD THAT POOR DEFENSELESS BABY, LEFT TO THE MERCIES OF THESE THREE PAPLU TAPLUS. WILL THE GIRLS RESCUE IT ALREADY? PLEASE?!?!!? 😫😫😫😫

OR EVEN BETTER, HAVE AN ACTUAL, RESPONSIBLE AND CAPABLE ADULT (WHICH CAN ONLY MEAN ONE PERSON IN THIS HOUSE: JHANVI) FIND IT. 😥😥😥

#ishqbaaz #ishqbaaaz #ib episode liveblogs #episode liveblogs #190717 ib lb

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analphancones · 7 years ago

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Jess , if you don't mind me asking, what happened between you guys? You seemed like you went so idk perfect together and we're deep in love.

//I'm sincerely sorry if it comes off as rude or disrespectful and you can 100% delete this ask if it at all offends you; but what is happening with you and Ashton? I'm really sorry for asking and I'm going to regret asking this as soon as I hit send

Okay guys. I’ll explain. Since about a few days after his birthday (June 15th), he had started being very distant and any time we would talk he would seem agitated and very done with me. Occasionally, he would suck it up and things would be fine and he’d be sweet with me. But for the most part, he didn’t seem to want much to do with me and wouldn’t even give a lame excuse, just ignore me.

So about two weeks ago I went to get dinner at the breed, this place in town I go to socialize and get a free meal and clothes and tampons and shit bc I’m broke as fuck and never have any kinda money. There was this boy there sitting alone on his phone and he looked really pretty from the side so I was tryna muster up some courage to talk to him. Eventually, he got up to chase the cat Charlie and I giggled bc he was literally crawling across the floor like Smeegle (?) from lord of the rings. I told him I liked his smile.

So for a few days after, Ashton was still treating me like I wasn’t important anymore. So I spent my time with Josh to occupy myself. On the third day I was at his apartment, and we were like standing up and making kool aid. I like leaned against his chest. He was really sweet and I like looked up at him and he kissed me. I kissed back.

Anyways. At this point, I was heavily considering breaking up with Ashton because of his neglect. He would hardly text me, and he’d sleep immediately after he did, or he’d lie and say he was asleep when he wasn’t. He’d give me bullshit apologies and I Love You’s and just generally not treat me as if I was worth his time like I should have been.

I will not use that as an excuse for cheating on Ashton. Just because he was neglecting me doesn’t mean I should have kissed someone else. But it happened. Josh is the guy you’ll see on my story a lot on my snap chat.

So a few days later, I broke up with Ashton. I was with my best friend when I did it. She read all the chats and all the texts and can vouch for me on all this. Ashton played it off as cool, like he still loved me but thought it was for the best. This is what he did. At first,

Then, he started blocking me on everything, talking hella shit, tryna tell my mother shit was going on. He was getting involved in shit that was not and never will be his business. He started changing my passwords, hacking into my shit, sending my mother pictures of me with hickeys and videos of me kissing Josh. He started changing my email passwords, getting on my tumblr and going through chats to send to my mother, I think he even tried logging into my facebook. I changed my snap chat password three times before he finally left it alone.

He also sent me messages on sc before blocking me about how he never cared about me, how it was all just one giant lie, how I fell for his trap all over again just like I did when we were 13. How he was using me, how it was all bullshit and he never gave a damn about me, I was just a game to him. He never loved me, he hardly even cared about me, how I was just a sick fun way to pass time. How he hates everything about my personality, and how he was actually waiting for me to break up with him so he could be with someone irl that he had been talking too.

So, he made this whole big fuss about how worthless I was to him and how it was all one big act, and how he doesn’t love me, never did, he’ll never miss me, he’ll never care about me, he never has except slightly before he really knew me. Then he gave this whole big speech about how he’s glad I cheated because he didn’t wanna be the bad guy, that he wanted it to be my fault and my fuck up for why we broke up. (news flash, yeh I did something bad but his words are so much worse than what I did).

So he took my one fuck up as a reason to tear my heart out and break it into a million tiny little pieces. He could have just let me believe he still loved me, just let me feel shitty about leaving him and missing him. But no he had to do this shit.

So now he keeps tryna get my mom to get Josh in some kind of trouble despite it not being his business in any way shape or form. But on the bright side, he’s agreed to leave well enough alone as long as I don’t contact him. So yeah, we were the perfect couple. We were so in love, we had the perfect story, we were soul mates. We were a big fucking lie.

Worst part is I’m still in love with him. I’m working hard to move on though. I’m with Josh officially, he’s really funny and sweet and dumb as shit but like, idk I kinda like it that way bc Ashton was smarter than me and I hated it. Josh treats me nicely and will drop like everything for me. He stopped his game in the middle of a match to come lay with me bc I was cold while napping on his couch. He defends me and lets me show up crying (which I did yesterday bc of Ashton) and is generally just really good to me. He keeps tampons under his sink for me and holds my hand when we go places and buys girly shampoo and stuff bc I shower at his house a lot (I don’t have a shower) and he carredis hit for me even without me asking and he’s just..he’s a really good guy.

Idk if it’s serious, if it ever will be. He could break my heart. But at least I’m not feeling lonely in my relationship anymore like I was with Ashton. At least with Josh, it’s clear he likes me and has interest in me. So yeah. Sorry for the long ass post. But that’s what happened :/

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leiaorganawrites · 8 years ago

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Well, hello! How about the pirate AU where Vex gets in trouble and gets in jail, and while the crew is making plans to save her, Percy sneaks out and save her... With a bloody cannon.

Yes yes yes, amazing! You’ll find it under the cut. (SORRY IT GOT SUPER LONG OMG)

Give me some prompts!

In Percy’s defence, the plan had been absolutely and utterly stupid to begin with. It wasn’t like he was to blame that it had backfired. Maybe he was, a little bit, but that wasn’t something he was willing to admit.

What they had to do was easy; nothing that the crew hadn’t done before. During the couple of months he had been travelling on board the Vox Machina, Percy had seen them pull much riskier stunts - and had participated of most of them-. There was no reason for this to go wrong, but alas, this particular group of misfits seemed to have a knack for things to go south very easy very fast.

It had been some days since they had heard some of the village guards had snatched important documents containing ships’ descriptions, captains’ names and details about legal and no so legal trading routes. Now, in the wrong hands that information could be catastrophic for every single pirate out there. If those papers reached their destiny, they would have armies all over them in merely a few days time. The need to get the papers back as soon as possible went without saying. Of course the extra knowledge that would fall on them when they did was always a more than welcome plus.

The mission would have been simpler had they been in Emon. They were used to bypass Emperor Uriel’s Royal Guard. They had even made friends - sort of - among their lines that would have been able to aid them. This was Wildmount, though. This continent had no sovereign and each region had its own leader and military. According to what they knew, most of the guards were as corrupt as the worst pirates they knew, so this was unfamiliar ground. Scanlan had pulled some strings and found out the name of the tavern the group of soldiers in possession of the documents were staying in for the moment, before reporting to their authorities they assumed. He had had to cash a couple of favours for it, but you didn’t get to be the captain of a ship like the Vox Machina without gaining some important connections on the way up.

Percy had stated his opinion from the beginning. There weren’t a lot of guards, the tavern didn’t have a very good reputation. They would most likely be able to take them and go in and out with the papers without causing much fuss. Grog, obviously, had agreed. However, it hadn’t been that long since he had started travelling with them, since he had become the ship’s new member, in charge of the artillery and most weaponry. Unfortunately, being the newcomer meant that most of the others didn’t trust him enough to make strategic decisions yet. They wanted to be sneaky about it, so after much deliberation and despite Grog’s protests the plan was finally laid.

Vex’ahlia was going to be in charge of creating a distraction while Vax’ildan and Scanlan himself sneaked into the guards’ room to steal the papers. Percy, Grog and Pike were supposed to go to the tavern with Vex and act as a contingency plan in case everything failed.

“You’re not coming, then?” Percy had asked Keyleth once everyone had left to get ready.

“Wha- no, not really. Not much of a fighter, and not much of a talker either.” She had shrugged. “My specialities lie elsewhere. Besides, someone has to stay here in case we need to bolt.” The redhead girl had leaned forward and whispered “Which honestly happens way too often.”

Percival should have known there and then.

A group of pirates like them - and Percy couldn’t deny he was more than a bit surprised when he started considering himself as a pirate - had no problem blending in the second they went into the tavern. The bear that accompanied them was a different story..

“I don’t mean to offend anyone but I believe the sensible thing would have been to left Trinket behind.” he commented, already expecting Vex’s snarky remark about her animal companion. Most ships’ first mates had parrots, monkeys, even eagles. This woman travelled with a bloody bear. A giant one. But if there was something Percy had learned during his stay on board so far, was that there was nothing ordinary about Vex’ahlia. The remark never came though, and he stopped on his tracks to look behind him. “Wait, where’s Vex?”

“She disappeared right at the door. She does that sometimes, pretty much like Vax. It’s kind of their thing.” Pike had offered a soft smile to conclude her explanation, while patting Grog on his back. He also seemed confused about where the other woman had vanished to, but had quickly shrugged it off and started talking to Trinket. The animal was following them, seemingly undisturbed by the fact that they were inside an establishment full of humans that were giving him foul looks.

The place was uncommonly filled with people, even at that time of noon. Once they found a place to sit, Trinket easily curled on the floor behind Pike, Percy noticed the stench that surrounded them. It was a mix between sweat, salt, and alcohol. There was a band playing some awful tunes in the corner, but the musicians seemed a bit too scared by the drunken men dancing around to even try to change their style, as out of tune as it might have been. “Well, I don’t know if Scanlan is already here but he must be horrified at this.” Pike laughed as she brought a bottle of rum to the table with two glasses in her other hand and some ale for Grog, who cackled in return. Percy just chuckled and shook his head briefly, searching around for the guards; a feeling of discomfort settling in his stomach. “Who are we looking for exactly?” He didn’t even turn to look at his companions while he threw the question in the air. The fact that Vex wasn’t there worried him even more. It was not as if he thought she couldn’t protect herself, but lately he found the he felt more at ease if she wasn’t out of sight. His eyes scanned the place once again, trying almost desperately to spot any stain of turquoise among the crowd. Nothing.

“Yeh, where are them, Pike?”, Grog asked, his face already buried in his beverage.

“I’m- well, I’m not really sure. Vex will let us know. Just pay attention and we’ll know when we see her.” And as if it had been previously planned, as soon as the blonde woman finished her sentence, Percy saw her. Her hair was down, bright blue feathers entwined with black wild silk waves; her lips were red and full, evidently exalted by some sort of makeup. She was wearing a dress now, in contrast to her usual pants, boots and loose shirt. Vex was very comfortable with her body, that much was clear, so this was not the first time Percy had noticed her figure; but this dress was something else entirely. It fit perfectly in all the right places, it showed just the right amount of skin to keep anyone wondering, it was definitely a sight. Giving the nature of the distraction she had planned, he figured that was kind of the point.

He adjusted his glasses as his eyebrows went up in what was probably the most unoriginal move ever. His jaw hanging would complete the picture of a pathetic being, but he managed to gather some self-control. She wasn’t the only woman dressed like that inside the establishment and he had known enough of the world to understand how a courtesan was supposed to look, but she stood out so naturally with her graceful movements and her sharp looks; it was a fool’s errand not to be mesmerised by her mere presence.

“Hello boys.” She approached three men nearby with a wink, sitting on their table and shamelessly crossing her partially uncovered legs. Percy felt his cheeks flush and tried to look away, failing completely. It was only when he heard Pike’s voice behind him that he was able to blink a couple of times and snap out of the trance.

“Percy are you listening? Percy! Hey!” She tapped his shoulder delicately.

“Yes, yes dear, I’m sorry. I was just-” Staring. He was just staring. He made a quick scan of the men sitting next to Vex. Definitely soldiers. He needed to come up with something clever to say to save what was left of his dignity. “So there are three of them. It doesn’t seem they’re waiting for anyone else. They’re armed, but not heavily so. It’s plausible they have left some weapons in their room.”

“That’s good, isn’t it? Will make it easier if- well, if everything goes to shit.” There was a little giggle escaping from Pike’s lips and he found himself chuckling fondly as well.

“Funny. Keyleth basically told me the same thing on our way out.”

“It’s been over two months, you’re no stranger to our plans now. Or to how they have this tendency to go terribly wrong.” Her tone was amused and relaxed, almost as if the fact that they were actually risking their lives there was an ongoing joke.

Pike’s words ended up being prophetic once again. Vex was playing her part to perfection, making the large men paying drinks for her, winking, subtly placing her hands on their knees, stalling. Vax was supposed to give some sort of signal when everything was over and done with, so she could make an easy escape. At the moment the soldiers - more drunk and nastier by the minute - were discussing which of them was going to be lucky enough to take her to their room.

“Let’s all take her. We can take turns. She seems like a tough one.” The guard whose back was nearest to Percy grabbed her forcefully by the waist, trying to plant a kiss on her.

“Sorry darling.” Vex didn’t seem to lose her composure. “No game until you pay.”

“Oh come on! We need a little taste before we give up our money. Don’t be feisty.” One of them stood up, hovering over her. Two towering bodies cornered her in a split second, while the third one kept her firm with a massive arm around her.

“… Pike.” Percy’s brow was furrowed and he was instinctively reaching for his gun.

“Don’t worry, she will ask for help if she needs us to intervene. Believe me, I’ve known Vex for years. She’s really tougher than she seems.” But even though Pike’s voice seemed as steady as before, her eyes were fixated on the scene in front of them. Grog had also stopped drinking and had an expression of alertness, pretty much like a beast getting ready to attack.

And then he saw her look. Or at least he thought he had seen a look. A single glance of discomfort that had him freaking out immediately. He breathed once, twice, considering what to do. When his mind reached its own accord, he nodded to himself. Percy stood up and walked towards one of the corners of the place. One, two shots directed at random targets. One glass broke, a simple hat got blown up. That was all it took to start the brawl.

While Trinket launched at the three guards, Pike pulled out her sword and Grog started simply using his fists. Ducking under a table, Percival crouched and moved towards Vex, but he hadn’t been fast enough.

“You’re coming with us, love.” The man grabbing her by the waist was suddenly carrying her on his shoulders.

“The fuck I am.” Vex’s dagger was swift, but she was clearly overpowered and outnumbered.

“Well, well, well, someone’s pretty arse will be thrown into jail for obstruction.”

That was the last thing he had heard before someone had collapsed on top of him and he had lost sight of her and her captors. Trinket hadn’t had any luck either, returning to them some minutes after with an injured paw.

Now Vex’ahlia was being held at the stockades and they were all back on the ship, planning once again, sitting around Scanlan’s table.

“Leave this to me. No one interferes. I sneak in, I get her, I sneak out. Done. We got the papers, we don’t need to draw any more attention to us or they will find out.” Vax was adamant, and when it came to his sister, no one seemed to be able to deny whatever decision he made. Percy cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses.

“It’s too risky. There are more than three brute soldiers there. Do you think you can take them all? With your sister who is mostly unarmed and unprotected? It is madness.”

“It was too risky to go ahead n’ try n’ play prince charming, De Rolo, and that definitely didn’t stop you.” Vax’s stare was more piercing than his daggers at the moment. Percy, however, was not easily intimidated. Never had been. He just rolled his eyes and walked out of the room. “Grog, if you please? I need your help outside for one moment.”

Once he was alone with the massive man, he crossed his arms and leaned onto railing. “I’m having a thought, and I believe you will appreciate it. We need a distraction if we’re going to make this work, preferable of the explosive kind.” As imagined, that definitely peaked his crew mate’s interest.

Sneaking past the militia and knocking two poor devils out to steal the armour they wore as some sort of uniform was no challenge. Grog’s didn’t fit very well, but it was not like they were going to keep the clothes anyway. The artillery at the stockades was poor, to say the least, but Percy found what he needed after some minutes. The old cannon hadn’t been used for years, he could tell, but it couldn’t be that difficult to make it function. The wheels under the base that supported it needed a bit of mending, but Grog’s strength came in handy for that. He then proceeded to quickly pack the black powder and grab the ammunition.

“Listen to me Grog, as soon as we leave, I will fire this thing and you take care of the poor assholes that come running. I will go to the cells and get Vex out and then we run. Fast.” The man in front of him nodded, wide grin plastered on his face.

“Yeh, let’s fuck shit up.”

And so they did. As soon as the east part of the stockades blew up in the air, a group of more or less ten guards ran towards them without their armours and barely carrying any weapon. Grog practically cackled, and Percy nodded, leaving him to his fun while he moved towards the cells. It didn’t take him too long to find the entrance. Two guns in hand, he knew his distraction had worked when he didn’t find more than two or three guards on his way. He reached the prison and the sight there made him stop altogether.

Another couple of men were knocked out in front of an open prison door, key hanging from the lock. He easily recognised two of the ones who had been at the tavern previously. Unsure of what to do, he looked around, not knowing what to expect.

“My hero.”

Vex’s voice came from behind him, leaning against the wall, her lips curved in a smug smirk. So much for a rescue mission. She chuckled and walked towards him, her brown eyes scanning his form up and down. Percy’s cheeks felt warm again, and a sudden feeling of self-consciousness took over him. He held her gaze for a moment, before looking away at both his hands.

“Your bow was… a little complicated to bring along. We left in a rush. Can you handle one of these?” He handed her one of his guns.

“Come on darling, what kind of pirate would I be if I couldn’t shoot one of those? I’m just old school. Let’s get out of here while they’re paying attention to the BOOM.- wait, did you bring my hat?”

This time it was Percy’s time to chuckle. With a pompous bow, he passed over the three pointed hat to her. It was a gift from Scanlan, and from what he knew she was supposed to wear it every time she stirred the ship. Now it was just a habit. She gently placed the hat on her head. Her hair was back in her usual braid and the dress’ skirt was now turn to shreds, probably self destructed to give herself more mobility. She examined the gun closely for a second and just when he thought she was going to walk out of the place, she moved to stand even closer to him.

“Thank you. For everything. Really.” The smirk turned into a fond smile, and as she stood on her toes, he felt a soft kiss on his cheek that lingered one second more than it probably should have. But as fast as it came, it was gone. Vex was already going for the door and he stood there, blinking and touching the place where her lips had been with his now free hand. He snapped out of it right before she rolled her eyes and took his hand in hers, practically dragging him outside.

“Percival! we have to get going now!”

“Yes, of course, we just have to make sure to pick up Grog on our way out.”

#annavoigmarchen #critical role #cr au #perc'ahlia #vox machina #my stuff #writing prompts #drabbles #lucia writes #this got super long #also it feels weird after yesterday but there you go:)

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spmcomic · 6 years ago

Text

Moonless

Chapter 1: (part 1 | part 2) Chapter 2: (part 1 | part 2)

So it was just Doyle and O’Chunks.

O’Chunks sized up his opponent silently, his hands working at the dishes on autopilot. Running his towel over the inside curve of the bowl and then the outside was second nature by now. He liked to think he would have made an intimidating bartender. Maybe in a coffee shop. But alas, that was for another lifetime.

Doyle was prodding at the fire idly with a stick, the same way Nastasia did when something was on her mind. Calculated jabs that teased out bright embers.

“What were yeh doin’ out on the mountain all on yer lonesome?” O’Chunks asked, his brow furrowed. He wished his eyes worked better, so it would be less obvious that all of his attention was on Doyle. Escalating tension would only start conflict. And none of the three of them had the energy for that. He just wanted to have a not unpleasant night and get the stranger out of their business.

Doyle smirked and threw the stick into the fire, tracking the embers up into the smoke. The wind carried it east. “I’ve been traveling for a long time. Years and years… I like to see what’s out there. Make just enough to get by, live off charity, move on. I don’t stay long enough to fall in love.”

O’Chunks nodded knowingly. “A vagrant. Seems t’be workin’ for yeh, other than yer, uh, lantern problem.”

Doyle scoffed. “I’ve needed a new one. I keep thinking a spell will light it right up. It’s been spotty with accepting magic.”

It was blessedly quiet for a moment. O’Chunks wondered when he’d gotten so grouchy. Nastasia appreciated a good moment of silence, and the Count… Well, he hadn’t been around someone so insistent on talking in quite a while.

“How about you three?” And it was over. O’Chunks shrugged.

“We’re… lookin’ for a cure for the Count,” he said, only hesitating a moment.

“Yeah, something’s really wrong with that guy.”

O’Chunks frowned. “We’re makin’ it work.” He fussed over the last bowl to hide his scowl.

Doyle tilted his head. “Are you, though? Or are you just carrying around some kind of flesh vessel that has no consciousness?”

O’Chunks startled, then narrowed his eyes. “… There’s a reason yeh left yer home. Top o’ yer class.”

He shrugged. “Aren’t we all running from something?”

That gave O’Chunks some pause. It was easy to call any motion from place to place “running from” the past. He wondered if that’s what he was really doing, out here, with Nassy and the Count. But he shook it off. Doyle seemed like the kind of guy to conflate “moving on” with “running away” if it put his opponent at a disadvantage.

When he didn’t respond for too long, Doyle shrugged again. “Well, I’m beat. Thanks for keeping watch. I’m going to hit the hay.” He stood, brushed himself off, and strolled to the tent. O’Chunks cleared his throat and straightened his back, letting his broad shoulders and broader chunks do the talking. Doyle got the message and shrank back from the tent’s entrance. He dug his sleeping bag out of his backpack and curled up beside it instead.

O’Chunks rubbed the back of his head. He wasn’t sure how he was going to keep his eye out into the wilderness and within the campsite. Maybe there was a way to position himself better. He started packing up the cooking equipment to clear up the space. At least the other two could get some rest.

Darkness. The silence was overpoweringly loud. The endless void of ink choked everything. Too heavy to move in. Waiting to wake up. It would be an eternity and an instant at once.

There was a figure, walking in the void. Recognition… No, too difficult. Just watch.

It was poking at the nothingness, examining the nothingness it stood on. “You are empty, aren’t you…” it mused, rubbing its chin with a finger. It pulled its hood back. Pointed ears. Something familiar. “I thought I could talk to whatever was possessing you. But do you even have that?”

A strange figure. He did not belong here. Very unusual, for a figure to be in the void… He was from somewhere. Somewhere else.

“Hmm, no, not empty… I can feel your unease.” The figure stopped and folded his arms behind his back, grinning. “You weren’t listening, earlier, but you are now, aren’t you?”

He did not belong. He belonged somewhere else. Not here. He should not be here. The figure tilted his head. He was playing a game. But this was not a game. “You don’t know how to make me leave.” Matter of fact. Threatening.

The void shifted. The ink thinned. The figure’s grin widened. “Yeah, come out of hibernation for a minute. I want to see something. If you’re not being possessed…” The figure waited as the fog thinned.

Clawed at the darkness, letting it come away in wet shreds. “It’s funny,” the man confessed. “I’ve met so many people. But no one with such powerful magic.” He paced around upon the void. Have to work faster. Get him out. “Made a living off what I could take. And people will pay! It’s easy, when you’re as strong as me.”

Wrenched at the ground. The man stumbled, but kept his footing. The claws left streaks of dim, foggy colors. Nothing distinct. “But you? You’re valuable. Just by yourself. So is your book, but, I get the feeling it would kill me. You’re harmless.”

He was so small. It would be easy to just pluck him off the ground. But that wouldn’t make him gone. Just in the air.

“You’re… descended from the Ancients, aren’t you? Some kind of derivative tribe. What happened to you guys?”

Could the void swallow him, if he were pushed into the ground? The figure started laughing, nearly hysterically.

“You really can’t touch me! You can’t do anything. Not in the real world, not in your own mind. What are you, some kind of man baby? Why do the other two keep you around? They must be so embarrassed for you.”

Stop. Frustrated. Vast. Powerless. What was happening? Would he go away, if left alone?

The man sighed and deflated. “I guess there’s not much fun to be had in teasing a crazy idiot. There’s no thrill to it. You’re too easy. I’ve made up my mind, anyhow.”

The void washed away into dimness. The Count squinted blearily. That was… Not quite a dream. That was…

The stranger!

The Count struggled to get his arms arranged to roll to the side. It felt as though he were outside his own body, in a way, watching himself idly from behind glass. The extra degree of detachment made his movements clumsy and delayed. What to do about the stranger? He was so uncoordinated. He huffed, frustrated. Where was the book? It would fix this-

A deep sound rattled him. The general. What was his name…? No time. He could help. He helped, before. He was good. The Count limply slapped his tingling hand against the general’s shoulder. He was under some kind of thick cloth.

Sleeping bag, his addled memory helpfully supplied. He had some choice words for his memory. It really needed a talking-to…

Can’t get distracted. The world spun and colors ran together. He had to warn the general before the fog descended again. He patted the sleeping bag again. No, that was the wrong motion. Do a jabbing one. No, with fingers. A sharp poke.

What an odd word, his mind thought giddily. How strange, to find himself awake at this hour, in this tent, with this random person. Of all the people in all the worlds, and all the places to be… What brought him all the way here?

He panted with the exertion of staying focused. His hand felt oddly shaped, completely useless for this task it was not designed for. Not designed for poking. Or for doing things. It was designed to simply be in front of him sometimes. Right…? Poke harder! He raged at himself. The general must know of the danger-

He froze. The stranger was standing over him, in the tent, his eyes glinting. Was this really happening? It was so strange. Who was this man? Why did they pick him up? He was casting a spell now. Exhaustion washed over the Count. He needed to… get the general’s attention, or make a noise, perhaps… but his eyes were closing on their own.

As his vision faded, he saw a movement. Someone had thrown open the entrance to the tent. The sound was so muffled. That was… with a pang the Count realized he couldn’t remember her name. But she was on the man’s back. As they struggled, the blanket of exhaustion lifted and he could move again. The Count batted at the general’s face. He grunted angrily.

The woman bit down into the man’s shoulder and he shrieked. That roused the general- with startling speed he rolled up on his knees and slammed his fist into the man’s gut. He staggered back. The Count wiggled backward, toward the back corner of the tent, trying to get out of the general’s way. Still uncoordinated. The man gasped for air and reached into his cloak. He pulled out an ornate, shining dagger.

A knife.

Time was wrenched from the Count’s mind, and everything was lost to the descending haze.

Nastasia was thankful that O’Chunks had punched the scream right out of Doyle. She was clinging to his back, weighing him down as he swiped his knife wildly back and forth. Lines of light shot out of the blade, tearing into the fabric of the tent and ripping long slashes across the canvas. Right through the rain cover and out into the dawn sky. She was having trouble keeping a grip on his shoulders- she had bitten right through his cloak and the blood was making him slippery. His flailing was getting her tangled up in his torn cloak and the torn tent.

O’Chunks rolled forward into a crouch and jabbed forward with his long arm, trying to get the dagger out of Doyle’s grip. Doyle dodged and stepped back again. He tripped over the tent entrance and fell back on top of Nastasia.

She gasped for air. He was a lot heavier than he looked. She moved to push him off of herself, but he rolled and they grappled at each other. In a flash he had her pinned. He drew back the dagger and drove it into her neck. Nastasia choked.

Then, abruptly, he was gone. Nastasia blinked, dazed. O’Chunks was standing over her… she followed the motion of his arm. He had slapped Doyle clear across the campsite into a tree, where he lay motionless.

O’Chunks looked devastated. He was trembling as he stared down at her, eyes wide. Nastasia groaned airlessly and felt around her chest, up to her neck. The handle was sticking out, but the blade had been driven through into the ground. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. It needed to come out.

He had fallen to his knees beside her. “Nassy…” he whispered. Nastasia side-eyed him in confusion.

… Oh. Oh.

She couldn’t shake her head with her neck pinned, so she pointed at the blade’s handle insistently. There was really no calming O’Chunks down while she couldn’t talk or move, though, so while she waited for him to get over the shock she struggled to pull it out herself. But- yeah, it was too painful, jostling it like that. She needed a strong, quick tug.

O’Chunks finally noticed her tapping her fingers impatiently, one hand resting on the other over her stomach. He looked like he had a lot of feedback to give, but couldn’t decide which comment to go with, so he just yanked the knife out. Nastasia choked and gasped, covering the hole with a hand as she crawled over to her blood supply in the bag. Over by the Count. She waved her hand toward him before she dug through her bag.

“’E’s fine,” O’Chunks stammered, still struggling to keep up. “J-jus’ out of it.” The Count was shivering as if he’d been dunked in ice. O’Chunks gently pushed the Count up into a sitting position, but he slumped right over without even trying to support himself, so O’Chunks fixed the clasp on his cloak and let him lie down. He would at least warm up that way.

She kept her hand over the hole, but when she tried to talk she realized Doyle had torn right through her windpipe. It really smarted. She rubbed it and winced. It was going to be hard to talk, but she needed to debrief her teammate. The extra blood was already starting to seal the tears, but it would take days to fully heal.

“Yeah, so,” she paused and coughed. She spat stray blood on the ground. Hers. O’Chunks turned to face her, a hand still on the Count’s side. “First things first. I’ll be fine. Just need blood and time. But we’re in trouble.”

O’Chunks frowned. “Iss’e dead? ‘E was traveling alone…”

“Hope not. Please check.”

He stumbled over to Doyle’s crumpled form, his knees still shaking, and crouched next to him. “… Yeah… ‘e didn’t make it.”

Nastasia winced behind her glasses. Sighing would take too much effort, so she leaned back instead. “That’s bad,” she croaked.

“’Twere self-defense, Nassy…”

“No.” She shook her head stiffly. “I bit him. Right before. The bite was still potent. Yeah… This world’s going to have a vampire problem.”

“Oh…” O’Chunks went even paler.

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#spm #super paper mario #count bleck #nastasia #o'chunks #arc 4 #halloween 2018

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