#to impress me So badly that he once drank alcohol even though he wasn’t supposed to because of health issues
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Looking at some of my past crushes, I’m realising that I really just have a weakness for short men who can make me laugh. I need like a pocket size comedian I can carry around with me
#any given short king who has the gift of humour CAN bag me#something about a tall funny man doesn’t hit the same even though in general i’m not picky about height#and if i Was going to be picky about height i should be picky in that direction because i’m 6’1#but it’s like fuck societal expectations#this one goes out to that tinder match i never messaged but who turned up in my yoga class#we got paired up once and he had me in actual stitches and i just leaned over to my friend and was like ‘help’#she’s like ‘no i’m hearing you out. he has charisma’#he was a musician too. a triple threat 😭#there was also that guy i had a massive crush on who lived across the hall from me and all he had going for him was being short and wanting#to impress me So badly that he once drank alcohol even though he wasn’t supposed to because of health issues#i found out was like ‘you literally didn’t have to drink. i’m less impressed Because you drank’ like what the fuck#i thought he was funny but honestly sometimes in the wrong ways. he still likes every facebook post i make#who else… i mean there was that guy in web dev but i think i just fixated on him because i was worried about the class#he was funny though and had short people energy#apparently enquire within if your height starts with a 5 and you’re hilarious??? i guess#*but actually don’t because i have taken a vow of celibacy#personal
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2 Phoenix 1325
Trahearne, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me how fun parties are.
I mean, yes, part of it was formal and horrid. Gixx sent all of the novices out and told us to convince people why the priory’s work is important and they should fund us. Everyone I spoke to was most interested in our archives, so I think Gixx made us talk to them to spare them from the actual archons. I saw one of the high-ranking scholars—an asura named Valda, I think—telling some Krytan noble about how many skulls she popped like rotten eggs in order to retrieve an intact set of dwarven runestones. Gixx personally pulled her away by the ear before just before the lady fainted. And that’s preferable to the scholars that stay at the priory and do research—I’ve learned that they’ll do anything for a fresh set of ears, and won’t let go once they’ve got someone. Comparatively, us novices are much safer. We haven’t gotten into anything deeply enough to frighten laypeople with it.
Speaking of the Krytan nobility, I can’t say I got a good impression of them either. Most of them were stiff and easily offended, but there was one lord who wouldn’t stop flirting with all the humans. Farnel, maybe? He dumped his drink down my robes because he assumed I was a waiter and would just take it when he stuck his arm out and walked it into me. He then noticed that I was female and got through half a pick up line before noticing I was sylvari, after which he just trailed off and walked away. It put me in such a sour mood that I decided to hide outside for the remainder of the festivities.
I’m sure I haven’t convinced you that it was fun yet. I will, I promise.
One of the scholars, a charr named Mychyte Steeltome, found me outside. She left before saying anything so I thought she was looking for someone else, but she came back with some food and some furs, and scolded me for hiding from the party somewhere that would make me sick. I told her that not all sylvari handle the cold badly. She started laughing so hard she almost dropped her plate and said that most sylvari aren’t Sieran. She also apparently caught me using my own lava fonts for warmth earlier this week. I thanked her for the furs. I thought she was going to leave after that, but she sat down on the stone next to me to talk instead. She’s from the Blood Legion homelands, but she joined the priory after most of her war band was killed in battle against the branded. I’m still not really sure what you say when someone has died, and I’m fairly certain I got it wrong, but she didn’t seem to mind. I asked her why she didn’t join the vigil, since her story reminded me of Amora Soulkeeper’s, and she said her best friend from her warband, Reeva, did just that! But Mychyte said the priory was more interesting. I’m sure she must miss Reeva terribly though. I certainly miss Arlon and Pellam, and Caithe and Tiachren, and you.
We spent a good couple hours swapping stories. She was very impressed that I’d gotten to work with you, and says she’s actually read a good bit of your writing, and has been trying to apply it to pushing back the brand. I think I was just as shocked that she’s gotten to work with Rytlock Brimstone! I still feel like I’ve barely heard of anyone, but even I know who he is. I suppose I’ve also gotten to work with a member of Destiny’s Edge, but it feels different somehow. Caithe just feels more like family and less like a heroic figure. Odd. Anyway, Mychyte was also a bit jealous that I’m training to be an explorer, as she doesn’t particularly enjoy the archival work, so I invited her to join me and Sieran sometime. I can’t say I’m in much of a position to teach, but if Sieran agrees, it’ll be nice to learn alongside her.
About halfway through the night most of of the guests filed out and took a waypoint back to Lion’s Arch. By that point I was stiff from the cold despite the furs, and would have been more than happy to go to bed, but Mychyte wouldn’t let me, pointing out the members of the Black Lion Trading Company rolling in barrels. “Most of those are expensive mead,” she said, “but at least one is fireworks.” She made me promise to stay up another hour.
I think I went to bed around dawn?
Mychyte somehow got me in the front of the line for the alcohol, but after that I lost track of her fairly quickly, because Sieran found me and pulled me into a dance circle. I’ll be honest with you, Trahearne, I’m a lousy dancer, but most of the dances were just large circles and were easy enough. Then Sieran abandoned me as soon as she felt I had the hang of it, I guess. Don’t feel bad about it— I was having fun! People were very kind when I stumbled. I assumed Sieran had someone else to dance with, but I spotted her in a corner with an archon in a headlock over his “half-baked theorem” because “ley lines don’t work like that, have you read anything written in the last ten years?” I stepped out of the dance to stop her, but when I left the crowd I found that a good half the party was brawling! Apparently academic disagreements are taken very seriously. Valda, the explorer Gixx led away before, was using earth magic to suplex a whole crowd of archons because apparently none of them knew anything about the practical applications of deldrimor runes. Next I saw her, she’d been punted into a snowdrift. Even I ran afoul of an archon named Rhenally, because she apparently felt that a sealing ritual would have been a better way to contain the Sanguinary Blade’s corruption than the original scabbard. I wasn’t sure if there was a customary form of combat, so I took Valda’s fate as an example and punted her into a snowdrift. They’re still rather plentiful, even though it’s already summer.
There must be a conspiracy to get the newest novices drunk, because I lost track of the night shortly after that. I know I spent a lot more time dancing. I almost remember some of the steps! I think I managed to stay out of most of the fighting, but I also remember some norn challenging me to a friendly duel. I think it was friendly? I’m also told that I got dared to set an Asura on fire, and he thanked me for the data afterwards. Beyond that, I couldn’t tell you what happened. I feel like it was fun, but I drank too much to be sure.
Gixx says it was a great success: we’re well-funded for the next year and the priory took a minimum of damage.
If you’re not in Orr, you should come next year. Feorylle
P.S. Cleanup is horrible. Hangovers are equally distasteful.
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Shay Cormac x Captain! Reader: Aphrodite (2)
AN: Heeyy! Thanks for all the love that you've given for Aphrodite! Here is Part 2. I took the time and effort to make this as good as possible, making sure I don't exaggerate the personalities of the characters as well as not going overboard with the 'love at first sight' thing. I try to keep it real as much as I can. Hopefully, I've done it right. Anyway, once again, enjoy reading! :)
Part 1: A Naval Clash Part 2: Why Don't You Just Meet Me In The Middle? - YOU'RE HERE! Finale: Saving Aphrodite
Part 2: Why Don’t You Just Meet Me In The Middle?
It had been four weeks now. It has been that long ever since you last met with the captain of the Morrigan, Shay Patrick Cormac, somewhere along the North Atlantic. During those four weeks, too, no naval attacks had occurred, thankful for that. You were able to ask the Crown to send you more men in your fleet and you will have to wait for their response, which will probably take a month or two for you to receive it. So, you’ll have to bear with the number of soldiers you have for now.
You are currently sailing to St John’s, a settlement under British colony. An average sized settlement, it is ensconced between the mountainside and the ocean. Fishing is the dominant economic activity around here. There had been rumors among the army that the French still has its eyes on it, wanting to gain control of the said settlement.
Actually, you are only going to that specific destination because you were requested by Mr Haytham Kenway. According to him, he has an important business meeting with some of his associates who were currently in the North Atlantic. Ever since you met this man, you always assumed that he was a businessman. On what kind of business, you didn’t know. You still ponder on it. You did think that it wasn’t just any kind considering that he always carries a sword and two pistols with him.
Something illegal, maybe? You did try to find it out, but sources were limited. It seems that the man is secretive.
It took you a day to reach St John’s. Departing from Halifax, it usually takes only mere hours to reach St John’s, but because the winds slowed down, even a full sail cannot reach the destination on a much earlier time.
“Thank you once again, Captain (L/n),” Haytham gratefully said once you docked your ship.
“You’re always welcome, Mr Kenway. You have always provided my ship the resources that I need for future repairs and some food and medical supplies for my men. It’s only fair I give back a compensation by offering you a free ride,” you gave a respectable smile.
You and Haytham have already known each other since the predicament of his back in Halifax a few months back. Apparently, he had to go back to New York and his supposed ride back to the city was pillaged and destroyed by ‘pirate’ ships. He believed that it was done by that no good Assassin-affiliated gang. So, he got stuck and was greatly frustrated by the unfortunate turn of events.
Lucky for him, though, he saw your ship docked at one side. He wasn’t able to notice it. He only was able to when he saw you shouting orders at your men, preparing for departure. Without any more second thoughts, Haytham walked to you in a fast pace. You looked at him confusingly, creasing your brows down.
“Take me to New York,” Haytham wasn’t really requesting, but more like of a demand.
You raised a brow. “With all due respect, sir, I can’t simply just take you to New York,” you reiterated his words with emphasis.
“I have an urgent business meeting and I must be in the city before another month would pass. I promise you, I will supply your ship and men the necessary resources, food, and medicine that you need once we reach the city.”
Your narrowed brows were back again, this time, expressing dissatisfaction. “Are you bribing a British official?”
Haytham’s hands were placed at his back as if presenting a gentlemanly aura radiating out of him. He exuded more confidence than to be intimidated by you. “We are at war, Captain. I’m certain that you need all the supplies you need at sea. Besides, do you think you can still wait for the Crown for you to get what you need? What if you badly needed those supplies and you still couldn’t get them? No offense, but considering that you are a woman working for their military, it is possible that they would get back at you. No woman has ever dared to dream big to become a soldier at war.”
You stared at him blankly. You admitted that his words did strike you. He had a point on that one. The supplies that you managed to gather can only last you for another month and waiting for His Majesty’s approval will only make matters worse for your men and ship. Though wanting to project an honorable stand as an officer, desperate times call for desperate measures.
You then decided, “Alright. I’ll take you to New York. But you better keep your promise, Mr...”
“Haytham Kenway.”
You nodded then warned him, “Well, Mr Kenway, I can send you to prison if you don’t keep your promise.”
Haytham remained composed. “I don’t intend to break my promise, Captain.”
You hummed then announced, “We can reach New York five to seven weeks at most if the winds are in our favor. If not,“ you sighed, “a month it is then.”
“Then let’s keep up with the wind, shall we?” He boarded the ship first like as if he was the boss.
And that’s how the two of you first met.
Haytham bobbed his head. He was still remaining on his position, refusing to move his feet. He was wringing his hands, which were placed at each of his side. He seemed to want to tell you something before he goes to his so-called meeting.
“After this meeting of mine, I would like to invite you for a few drinks,” he finally uttered out.
You gave a blank expression. Another thing that makes Haytham request for your ship whenever he desires to depart from one place to another via sea route is because he possesses strong romantic feelings for you. To him, just knowing that he can see you after such a long time excites him. And when he doesn’t, he seemed to miss you so much to the point he will call for you to take him somewhere else just to see you. He actually found himself foolish, intended to forget his so-called romantic feelings and consider you only as a mere business partner.
But, he can never fool his heart. He finally admitted to himself that he has indeed fallen for you. He saw you as unique and courageous. It was true that it did shock him to find out that you are a captain of one of the ships of His Majesty. And to venture out to such risk, knowing that women are only limited inside the house, he was impressed. He always loved that in a woman. Plus, you’re kind, accommodating, and beautiful. Haytham will not pass the opportunity to know you more.
“That is very kind of you, Mr Kenway. But, we are soldiers. We always have to do our jobs without rest,” you declined as kindly as you can, though you have to be honest, you do want to take a rest for at least a day. Being in the sea all the time can be quite a sickening sight and you missed venturing out in solid ground.
Haytham nasally sighed. He still insisted, “Your men need rest, Captain. You should be concerned with their health as well for they cannot fight properly if they lack a good night’s sleep.”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and instead internally groaned. ‘Why does he always know what to say?’
You raised your hands. “Alright, alright.“ You then lowered them to your sides. “I’ll let my men know that we’ll be taking the day off today.”
Haytham could just smirk on the little accomplishment that he achieved. In the outside, he was neutral, showing professionalism. In the inside, though, he was joyous. He was even engaging with himself if he should confess his actual feelings for you or if it’s not yet the right moment. Either way, he acknowledges that he is quite nervous right now. Dealing with Templar businesses is easy, but dealing with his personal feelings probably is hard for him.
***
The only available tavern, the Salty Dog, smells of, obviously, liquor and sweats of mostly men. A song is being played by a group of talented musicians. Everyone is basically doing a lot of merrymaking. You tried to find a man named Shay Patrick Cormac (because you were able to take note that the Morrigan was also docked just beside yours), but Haytham led you to an empty table with two chairs available, perching at the right side corner. You sat down and made yourself comfortable. Haytham told you to wait for him as he dealt with his business. You may order any alcohol that you like provided it is something you can handle. He would not want to carry your drunken state towards your ship. You didn’t even know if he was just joking on that or he was serious about it.
You followed his retreating form and, lo and behold, you finally met with Shay Patrick Cormac. The two of you locked eyes for a few moments until he winked at you and diverted his attention to Mr Kenway. You shifted your eyes to anywhere but to him as you fight the urge not to smile widely for that so-called flirtatious gesture he just gave you. You didn’t expect that one of Mr Kenway’s associates is Captain Cormac, the very man you wished to see again. You didn’t know what came over you, but there were times that you desired to see him again.
After some time, you already saw Mr Kenway walking towards your direction while Captain Cormac went to the entrance/exit door of the tavern. You eyed the latter as he also did the same, showing off a flirtatious sneer. You raised a brow at him and he seemed to have chuckled as he finally left the tavern.
“I apologize if I have to make you wait that long,” Haytham spoke. “My instruction must be clear as much as possible. Failure is not always an option.” He sat across you.
Since the tavern only serves rum, that’s what you ordered. You only drank two mugs, though.
“I’m quite surprised that you know Captain Cormac,” you began.
He looked at you. “He is one of my best associates.” He then realized at once, “I’m also surprised that you know him, (Y/n).”
‘Oh wow. Did he just call me by my first name?’ you mused. ‘Since when did we ever get so close?’
“We met once,” you answered him nonchalantly, despite your thinking. “Got into a scuffle with the French Navy. He was there so he helped out.”
Haytham nodded slowly. “And that was your last meeting with him?”
“Yes. If you count it now, it would be our second time.”
‘Why are we even talking about this? This is why I don’t want to agree with this,’ your thoughts complained once more.
While you thought Haytham may be a good man (and good-looking, too), you were not really interested in him. He seemed to be pulling out an impression that, despite being a gentleman, he can also be authoritative and perfectionist. He may treat you like any same women out there. He may tell you the do’s and don’ts. He may even be overprotective. These were just your assumptions, but you don’t even want to confirm these anymore because some of them (or all of them) may turn out to be true. You don’t want that at all. Knowing yourself, you are a free woman. You don’t want to vie for society’s expectation of how to be a proper lady.
And you thought Haytham is that kind of man. Just looking at him now, he is screaming, “Respect me or die,” or “If you don’t follow exactly what I want, you will be punished.”
You and he stayed in the tavern for quite some time until you kindly told him that you needed to check on your Vice-Admiral. He was at the ship, tending on it, just in case some minor repairs were required.
Though in truth, you just wanted to get away from Haytham. He kept asking you questions regarding about your life and when you inquired him of the same questions, he either gave a vague answer or none at all!
‘A secretive man, indeed. Not my type.’
At first, he offered to go with you, but you declined the company, clarifying to him that you can take care of yourself. You bid him goodbye and finally released a breath once you were outside. You felt like you couldn’t breathe well with him around.
‘Might as well check on Harold.’
You were about to do just that when something black and red color hues came in your peripheral view. You instantly turned your head and indeed saw those aforementioned colors. He just snuck inside of some sort of military encampment held by the British Army.
‘What did Mr Kenway asked you to do?’ Your curiosity already killed you as you composed yourself and strode towards the said encampment.
Three British soldiers were conversing with one another. No wonder they didn’t notice Shay coming inside without their knowledge.
You cleared your throat and introduced yourself, “Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am Admiral (Y/n) (L/n), commander of the HMS Aphrodite.” You pointed at your ship then faced them again. “I see that you have a military encampment in here.”
“HMS Aphrodite, ye say?” one soldier, who seemed to be in his middle 20s and Scottish accent that is thick, prodded. “Yeah, I heard of that ship. After the previous captain, no one dared to sail it again. And I also heard a woman took over it instead.”
‘Here it is again,’ you sighed in your thoughts. ‘Gender discrimination all over again.’
However, your thoughts told you otherwise as the soldier saluted you. His two companions also did the same.
“I respect ye, madam,” he said. “Ye are brave to course it in the sea again. No man would be able to take that risk. Ye have my utmost respect.”
“Thank you. I am honored to hear that from you,” you acknowledged. Never in your life have you been appreciated without proving your worth. It’s a nice feeling for a change. “Now, if you don’t mind me going around your encampment then.”
“The Admiral is welcome. If ye need some help, ye can call any of us. I’ll tell the boys about yer presence.”
Once again, you gave him a grateful incline of your head and finally proceeded deeper. You will definitely find out what Mr Kenway has in store for him.
***
Shay found the documents that Master Kenway was looking for. Before tucking them inside his coat, he scrutinized each paper first to make sure if these were really the papers that his superior wanted him to retrieve. While doing so, he was aware that someone, probably an experienced Assassin trainee, had been following him. He was only waiting for the right moment to strike. When he felt a presence behind him, he was about to turn around, Hidden Blades unsheathed, only to find out that the suspect was hit with something hard then was kicked on the face until he was knocked unconscious.
“I was about to take care of him,” Shay said in a jested manner.
“You should be careful, Captain Cormac,” you remarked back, putting your pistol back in its holster. You hit the culprit with the handle of your gun then jerked your foot at him. You nudged your head forward. “What do you have there?”
Shay forgot that he was still holding the documents. He immediately twisted his body around and put the rest of it inside his coat. He then shifted back to you.
“Just some important documents,” he claimed.
“Is that what Mr Kenway told you to do?” you prompted.
“Aye,” he affirmed. “These documents will help him in his… business.”
You sauntered unhurriedly at him, keeping your eyes leveling to his. Shay remained in his position, showing off a demeanor that he will not be daunted. You stopped three inches away from him. You tilted your head up (since he’s taller than you) and examined him. Other than his handsome features with that evident scar starting from his left eyebrow down under his left eye, something is very iffy about him, really. But, you can’t point it out exactly what it is. Like Mr Kenway, he is also holding a secret, which, by the way, you didn’t like at all.
Then again, you are more intrigued with this man than the other one. He possesses a relaxing mood and may respect your freedom, despite being a woman. You straightened yourself and addressed,
“Don’t you think you’re stealing those documents inside a British military encampment? I can report you to the authorities here.”
“It’s not like these are theirs in the first place. They didn’t even know they actually have these papers,” he stressed out.
You just hummed whilst crossing your arms. “I’ll just pretend then that I didn’t see you here and that I caught this other guy snooping around instead.” You prodded your head at the side to indicate that you are letting him go.
“A fine deal then,” he grinned.
He trudged forward, but paused beside you to whisper, “I thank you, by the way.”
That sent shivers down your spine and you barely could even control yourself. “O-of course. You’re welcome,” you stuttered out.
‘Sh*t! Did I just stutter?’
Shay chortled and tapped your one shoulder as he jogged his way out without being caught by the roaming soldiers surrounding this encampment.
You puffed out a breath and looked at the guy who probably just tried to kill Shay. He was starting to gain his consciousness back.
“Get up!” you commanded, forcefully lifting the criminal by his upper arm. “You are trespassing a British Army territory therefore you will be dealt with severely. I’ll let these soldiers here deal with you.”
***
Evening has approached. Most of your soldiers were at the tavern, enjoying themselves while the night is still young. While going over to your ship, you encountered Harold along the way and asked him if he was done looking after it. He inclined his head and even told you about the Morrigan. You just offered a small smile as a form of praise for a job well done that he did (while trying to ignore the impulse to question your second-in-command as to why he mentioned the Morrigan like there is something special about it). You even thanked him for his never-ending efforts and unwavering support to which he was also grateful for the recognition. You bid him good night and reminded him about tomorrow’s early departure.
You continued on slowly, enjoying the nightly view. The smell of the salty sea and the freshness of the cold breeze coming from the Atlantic winds made you reflect on the kind of life you could have if you didn’t dream of taking the leap of faith. Would you have been stuck at home, perhaps even married to some wealthy man back in New York? Maybe even have children of your own?
’Marriage... Why am I even thinking about it if I haven’t met the man that I would love?’ you could just laugh at the irony of your own imagining.
Your attention then went to the Morrigan.
‘I guess a little visit wouldn’t hurt.’
You proceeded to the said ship and encountered Gist as he marched on the plank. He grinned upon seeing you.
“Ah! If it isn‘t the beautiful captain of the HMS Aphrodite! May I know why the fair lady is in here?”
“Lively as ever, Mr Gist. I heard that you are an explorer. What do you call yourself again? A Frontiersman?” you ignored his query.
Gist gave an amused lopsided grin. “Is the lady interested now to know my life story? Well, let me tell you that I’m willing to sit down while having a few drinks with you and tell you the many adventures that I’ve been through. You won’t be sleeping tonight, though.” He then laughed out loudly.
You just curved your lips up. “Not tonight, I’m afraid. Is Captain Cormac in his quarters?”
The first mate waved his pointer finger. “I see where you’re getting at, my lady. It seems our captain is very lucky tonight. Let me tell you now that he‘s quite interested in you.”
You turned your head sideways as you could feel the heat radiating from your cheeks. It felt like you didn’t know what to say, but you managed to utter out something (thank God for that), “I’m sure that’s just your imagination, Mr Gist.” You looked at him. “There are far better women out there who he can trifle with. I’m a soldier who doesn’t have time for, you know, those things.”
He snickered. “It’s true that he have eyed a couple of women when we go to a tavern. But, his eyes on you tell a different story.”
You wanted to scoff at his statement, but you just blinked. You just wanted to pretend that he was only flattering you. So, you articulated to him, “Thank you for telling me that, I guess. I believe only Captain Cormac can truly tell if he has romantic feelings to me. Have a pleasant evening, Mr Gist.”
“I am an honest man, madam. Don’t get too carried away now!” He finally parted ways with you.
You huffed. You knew what he meant with his last words and, again, you would like to feign out that you didn’t hear those although that did bother you a little.
‘Let’s really hope that I don’t get carried away…’ you confessed in your thoughts.
You won’t deny that you did want to try to brush your lips on Shay’s, and how it would feel like to be actually satisfied…
‘Oh my god, (Y/n)! What are you thinking?! Just stop!’ you chided yourself. ‘That’s not going to happen! You just wanted to visit him, that’s all!’
With all your messed up thinking, you didn’t realize that he was already calling for you. He had to hold onto your shoulder just for you to notice him. You flinched when he did so.
“Oh my god!” Shock crossed your face.
Shay’s hands raised in defense. “It’s just me!”
You immediately calmed yourself by heaving in and out of breath. “I’m sorry for that. I thought it was something else.”
Shay snickered then began to inquire, “So, what’re you doing here?”
You licked your lips. “I’m visiting you,” was all you could respond.
“Really? I don’t usually get visitors unless it’s Gist or Mr Kenway.”
“You’re lucky, then. You get another visitor.”
Shay simpered. “Just so you know, Captain (L/n), I make my own luck.”
“Right,” you drawled. “In any case, since I exerted some effort to actually visit you, if you’d like for another drink, I have a variety of alcohols in my quarters in my ship. Other than rum, I have whiskey,” you offered.
The corners of the male captain’s mouth quirked up, exposing his teeth. “Now I like the sound of that.”
***
Both of you gulped the small mug of whiskey. You released a loud breath while Shay showed an expression of satisfaction.
“You have time to read books?” he asked as he turned his head to the bookshelves just behind the corner of your long working table and chair.
“I didn’t have the time. They were already there when I first had this ship,” you replied.
“Who previously captained this?” He poured another whiskey on his mug.
You didn’t open your mouth for passing seconds. Shay got worried and immediately thought that the topic related to his question may be subtle for you. He was about to open his own when you finally spoke,
“My father. He was the previous captain of this ship. He died in a naval clash with the French.” Your head was bowed down, looking at the floor as if it will save you from the memories flooding back to you.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry on anything. Just curious is all.” He tipped your mug with the whiskey.
You instantly gulped it down and closed your eyes to savor the strong tangy taste of it. Your cheeks were beginning to turn red as you can feel the alcohol taking in. You can’t really say you were a heavy drinker. You tried to be sober, which you still are, but if you take another go of the said liquor, you may already get sloshed out.
Shay’s eyes wandered off to other things in your captain’s cabin. Other than the bookshelf, table and chair that he observed, your bed was at one side with a wax candle placed in a gold-designed candle holder just beside your ship’s only window sill. You also have three cabinets, the other two were jutted open, revealing stacks and rolls of parchments of papers. He can’t tell if you were an organized person because most of your papers were scattered on the table and in the cabinets. But, your bed was tidy and fixed, and even your lone bookshelf was barely even touched so it was clean to look at.
The man only shifted his attention back at you when you were already very close to his personal space. His lashes were fluttering and your eyelids drooped. Your mouths were a mere close distance and Shay looked like he was beginning to lose the air he was breathing. Without any further hesitation, you captured his lips gently. You just closed the gap between you and the two of you didn’t move at all. After seconds that ticked by, you gradually released from his lips and backed away. You pressed yours together as you let your eyes go from all around the room.
You sighed heavily, still avoiding eye contact with him. “I didn’t mean to do that… It must be the whi-“ You stopped when he softly curled his palms on your cheeks and, this time, savored your lips in his.
You were overwhelmed, of course, but your mind seemed so clouded right now that all you can think of is kiss back and memorize the taste of his mouth. You tightly held the lapels of his jacket as the kiss becomes heated. Shay left your mouth to brush his on your jawline, traveling to your cheek then to the side of your ear and started to nibble at your earlobe. You panted, gasped, moaned… Name all the sensual pleasures that you’re feeling right now. You wanted him to take you there and there.
But, things like this sometimes had to happen at a better time. Who the devil was knocking at your door when you were just at the middle of your highest?
Oh, right, it’s Harold Wilkerson, your Vice-Admiral and second-in-command. He was insisting that he needed to talk to you with some important matters before tomorrow comes.
You puffed out some hot air from your mouth. Why must it stop so abruptly? You felt like this is what you desired for so long a time. Your hold in the collars of his jacket was still firm. You don’t want to let go, but Shay knew that he has to. Your first mate is still waiting for your answer, never assuming that you may already be asleep. Shay breathed in your scent like as if he was trying to memorize what you smell like. He whispered on your ear,
“Thanks for the whiskey.” He then kissed the side of which. “And call me Shay from now on, (Y/n).”
Your breaths were already erratic and you felt like it increased further when he said your name. You want him to stay, but you know you had to let him go. It took an amount of self-control for you not to beg for him to stay. His hold on you was gradually disappearing and you felt like you’re being left by the people you loved. Your eyes were just glued on anywhere but him. If you so much just gazed at him, you don’t think you’ll even let him pass that door and you’ll probably beg for him to take you now.
Shay led himself out, taking the bottle of whiskey with him and looking a bit disappointed that he had to leave you unsatisfied. He didn’t want the HMS Aphrodite first mate to think of him as a man who can take advantage of their captain. He knew what dignity means and he’s not going to take that away from you.
As he opened the double doors and was met with Harold, the latter was perplexed upon seeing the captain of the Morrigan late at night.
Shay beamed, “Got invited to have a whiskey with her and she gave this as a parting gift.” He showed said bottle as proof.
Harold just nodded his head, eyes widened and mouth a little ajar, as he watched the other man get out of the ship. He focused on you next as his eyes bored into you, not planning to go inside unless you said so.
Your one hand was on your hip while the other hand was on the table, tapping your fingers on the hard wood. Your eyes were showing off a mood of indifference, but in truth, it’s like you wanted to condemn this so-called fate.
‘Why must you be so cruel?’ you thought disappointedly. ‘There’s no denying now that I may have growing feelings towards Shay Cormac. Or, maybe it’s just the alcohol talking… God, my head…” You began to feel the heaviness of your head.
Harold cleared his throat. He was still standing outside at the doorway. “Captain (L/n)…”
You glared at him. “You better have a very good explanation as to why you came knocking on my door, Wilkerson, because I swear to God I will throw you in the cold North Atlantic Ocean if that proves to be useless.”
Harold gulped nervously. “I think I’ll just come back tomorrow…”
You growled blaringly and threw a book (since it’s the nearest hard object that was on your table) at him. “GET. OUT!”
Harold screeched and ran out of the ship. He swore to himself never to disturb you during your drinking sessions with a guest ever again. You are more ferocious than any predator out there.
As for you, you hid your face in your hands. You just sighed heavily and decided that sleep will make this all go away. You might even think that this was all just a dream and it never happened.
… And so you thought because the next day, you felt like you could still feel that tingly feeling between your lips.
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ccvi.
What kind of pants did you wear today? >> Lounge pants, I guess they’re called.
How old is your television? >> I don’t know. A few years old, I assume.
Do you have a laptop or desktop? >> Two laptops.
When did you last talk on the phone with someone? >> I don’t remember.
Are you currently sleepy? >> No.
Do you own any television series box sets? >> I don’t.
Have you ever been in a fight with your best friend? >> I can’t even imagine what would prompt Can Calah and I to ever fight with each other. There’s nothing to fight about.
When did you last receive a hug and who was it from? >> Whenever the last time Sparrow hugged me was.
Was the last movie you watched a horror film? >> It was. (The Void.)
Do you own a lot of tee shirts? >> More than is necessary, certainly.
Do you plan your outfits ahead of time? >> No.
Have you ever spent the night in jail? >> No.
Would you say you’re a bad influence on others? >> That’s not something I know how to determine. I’d imagine my influence varies depending on the influenced.
Do you handle pain well? >> The nature of the pain determines how well I handle it. I’m usually inclined to stoicism in the face of pain, but some kinds of pain override that pretty quickly.
Have you ever been so nervous you threw up? >> No. I can’t even comprehend that.
Where is your favorite place to go when you’re depressed? >> To bed.
In high school, were you in trouble a lot? >> I wasn’t in trouble a lot, but I was in the guidance counsellor’s office more often than I’d have liked to be.
Do you enjoy your hairstyle? >> Meh. It needs to be cut again.
Do you have long hair or short hair? >> Quite short.
How much make up do you wear on a daily basis? >> None.
Do you have a leather jacket? >> I have a mock-leather jacket.
Do you have weak upper body strength? >> Somewhat, yeah. I was stronger when I was transient and had to carry my life on my back.
Do you think hugs are awkward? >> “Awkward” isn’t the word I think of, no.
Do you think facial hair is gross? >> It’s gross when it is unkempt and unwashed.
Would you ever dye your hair an unnatural color? >> Sure.
What color was the last cup you drank from? >> Black. It has Captain Phasma on it.
Have you ever been to the zoo before? >> Yes.
What instruments do you know how to play? >> None.
How late did you stay up last night? >> Not too late. I think I went to bed between midnight and 1a EST.
How late do you plan on staying up tonight? >> I have no idea. I don’t think about it too much; I just go to bed when I feel ready to do so.
Have you ever done hard drugs before? >> A few.
Has anyone ever been weirdly obsessed with you? >> I don’t know. If so, I didn’t notice (or find it weird).
Do you own a Snuggie? >> I don’t.
What is your favorite band of all time? >> I suppose the best candidate for that role is Pearl Jam, considering how long and how consistently I’ve loved them.
Would you consider getting a tattoo any time soon? >> Of course. If I had the money for one.
Are there any paintings on your wall? >> No paintings, no.
What movie did you last watch with someone? >> The Dark Tower.
Are you afraid of airplane rides? >> Not at all. I love flying.
What do you think is the best smell in the world? >> I can’t possibly determine that.
If you’re reading a book, what page are you currently on? >> I don’t feel like getting up to find out, but I’m about 85% done with We Need To Talk About Kevin.
Do you think people are intimidated by you? >> I’ve been told as much by a variety of people over time.
Do you have a job you like? >> ---
Have you ever lived with a roommate before? >> I’ve only not lived with roommates once in my life, and I was too depressed to enjoy it.
Do you like candles? >> I sure do. I’m very specific about scents, though.
What is something you lose often? >> Lip balm. But I usually find it eventually.
What will you be doing in the next ten minutes? >> Still working on this survey, most likely.
How many scarves do you own, if any at all? >> Three or four, I think.
Where did you last sleep? >> In bed.
Do you have Netflix? >> Yes.
Do you enjoy dancing? >> I sure do.
Do you ever go shopping with your parents (not including grocery shopping)? >> Not since I left my parent’s home.
Have you ever had some kind of sleep-disorder? How did it affect your life? >> No.
Have you ever had food poisoning before? Describe the experience. >> I’ve had it twice. What’s to describe, other than the distinct impression that one is constantly and inconclusively expelling their entire bodily mass from both ends of their gastrointestinal tract...?
Have you ever read anything by Chuck Palahniuk? What did you think? >> I read Haunted, and one other, I think. It was a long time ago, so not only have I forgotten what I thought, it is probably different than what I’d think if I were to read them again now.
How do you tend to amuse yourself on long car journeys? >> Reading, thinking, looking out of the window, napping, or listening to music or podcasts.
Do you find that caffeinated or alcoholic drinks make you pee more than normal? >> No. If I do pee more than normal while drinking, it’s because I’m consuming more liquid in a short period of time than I normally would be. Simplest of cause/effect relationships.
How often do you need to charge your phone and iPod (on average)? >> Once a day, or once every other day.
Do you still enjoy watching Disney movies? >> Almost all of the Disney movies I’ve seen were as an adult, so.
What are some interests you have in common with your parents? >> My father is creative in a DIY sort of way, and I share that interest. He also enjoys history, as do I (although our specific historical interests differ). We both like to explore, and take different paths (in more ways than one).
How old were you when your parents trusted you to stay home alone all day? >> I don’t think I’ve ever had that privilege in my entire time under his roof.
If you could go to one country for two weeks, all expenses paid, where would you go and why? >> Iceland. Why not?
Do you drink more or less water than is recommended? >> I don’t put any stock in the “recommended” amount of daily water intake. I drink as much as I care to, and don’t worry too much about it.
Do you like taking walks? >> Sometimes.
What do your parents think about piercings and tattoos? Do you agree with them? >> My father doesn’t care for tattoos or piercings anywhere but the ears. I obviously do not share this distaste in the slightest.
What are your religious beliefs? Are these the same as your parents’? >> My father and I are both independent and syncretic seekers.
Do you find it difficult to get to sleep early when you have to be up for something the next day? >> In general, I find it difficult to force sleep when I am not sleepy, yeah.
Who has more influence over your taste in music - friends or family? >> Er...
Do you crave alone time, or are you someone who loves being around other people a lot? >> I require a substantial amount of alone time; if that is given, then I find that I am definitely more willing to socialise with others when the opportunity arises.
Are you one of those people who texts back instantly >> Yes.
Assuming money wasn’t an issue, what car would buy right now, given the chance? >> Anything by Tesla Motors.
Do you think going to college/university is the best option after you’ve left school? >> For some students, I’m sure it is. Not for every student.
Is it easy to sleep late in your house, or are other people pretty noisy in the mornings? >> Sparrow works nights, so it’s definitely quiet in the mornings, since she’s asleep.
Do you prefer watching movies alone or with other people? >> I usually watch movies alone, but they can be fun with others as well. It really depends on the company, their movie-watching habits, and the movie itself.
What are two things that you have no problem paying full price for? >> Considering “full price” doesn’t always suggest quality in this country, I’m always skeptical about paying full price for anything.
You have 5 minutes - grab 3 snacks from the grocery store. What are they >> That would obviously depend on what grocery store I’m in.
Dancing, acting, and singing - which two are you best at? >> Singing, then dancing.
Deep fried Oreos & deep fried pickles - would you try either? >> Hell no. I’d rather starve.
Do you remember how old you were when you found out where babies come from? >> I don’t remember. I read books about that sort of thing rather early, because I was curious.
Funny, charming, cute, romantic, smart - choose only 2 for the opposite sex. >> Smart and funny. Those two things secured, other desirable traits tend to come along for the ride.
Snow or sand? Soda or juice? Cake or cookies? Royalty or immortality? >> Snow. Juice. Eugh. Immortality.
Which is more important to you: make-up or hair? >> Er... important in what sense...?
For an entire month would you rather have a unibrow or no eyebrows at all? >> I really don’t care.
What is one tradition that you and your family have? Do you enjoy it? >> ---
Have you ever let somebody use you? Why did you do it? >> I don’t know. Maybe. I’m not 100% clear on what “being used” looks or feels like.
You can go back in time & change something in your Mom’s past - what is it? >> ---
Do you know anybody who is around the exact same size as you? Who? >> I mean, probably. I don’t know the sizes of everyone I know.
Ever been to a haunted house? How scared were you? >> Yes! I wasn’t scared because that’s not the sort of thing I’d be frightened by, but it was very fun and engaging.
Money doesn’t matter - choose a vacation destination and pick your party: >> Yawn.
Who is the last person you talked badly about behind their back? >> Sigma, probably, in venting.
Been on any websites today you wouldn’t want your parents to see? >> I don’t care what he sees. We’re both adults.
Flip your arm over - can you see your veins? >> I usually can’t see my veins, except for the one that pops up in the crook of my right elbow. A phlebotomist’s answered prayer, that one.
Pick a movie at least 5 years old that you absolutely love: >> Uh... Event Horizon.
Apparently, you can’t tickle yourself. Do you think that’s true? >> I have no reason not to accept it as truth.
Do you ever buy snacks at the movie theater? What do you get? >> No.
When was the last time you had to jump? >> I don’t remember.
At what time does it start getting dark where you live? >> At this time of year, sunset is around quarter to nine.
Which is worse: dusting or mopping? >> Worse, meaning...?
Peanut butter VS. Caramel - which side are you on? I like peanut butter but I largely dislike caramel.
Have you ever complained to a manager about anything? What was it? >> I haven’t been in that position that I can remember, no.
Any idea where the shirt you’re wearing was made? Take a guess. >> I’m going to guess China.
Would you marry somebody who was intensely religious? >> It depends in which way they were intensely religious. I would not marry a fundamentalist of any religion, or anyone with strict legalist ideas. But passion is perfectly acceptable.
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Cold Hard Hugs #19_Uncomfortable Words
I don't know how people are supposed to talk.
There was a surprising amount of beer in the fridge. Surprising given my usual proclivities and habit of making just about any alcohol with arm’s reach of me disappear in short order. I hadn’t really had much call or opportunity to drink it of late, I realised. Just hadn’t really been feeling the need or desire. I did now though, so the abundance was welcomed. I grabbed the nearest bottle and cracked it open, meandering back upstairs and pointedly ignoring the excited holiday discussion I could hear wafting from Tillie’s room.
I saw on the bed, for a change of pace. My desk chair was uncomfortable anyway. So was my bed, to be fair, but it still won out in a contest between the two. I sat on it and stared at my possessions, wondering which of them would be useful in staving off boredom until I fell asleep. Nothing jumped out at me. Perhaps I wasn’t looking hard enough.
Grunting, I got down onto my hands and knees for a closer look at my books. They might have something for me, maybe. The films were all downstairs, as said, and that seemed a long way away at this point. Besides, I wanted quiet. Books are very quiet. Holding my bottle with one hand I ran the index finger of the other along spines, to get a feel for them. I’d read all of these before.
There was that slight increase in air pressure and little gust of wind that could only mean one thing. Sure enough, looking up, I saw Skaffen drifting into the room in what could only be describe as a casual fashion. Could only could only could only. Like busses, these phrases in my mind.
“Hi?” I said, hoping it was the right thing to say. I also got up off my knees, as that was no way to have a proper conversation.
“Hello,” she said, continuing to drift, bobbing gently in the air. The bobbing was new and presumably an affectation, though what it was supposed to convey I had no idea.
“Are you intimidated by Johnny?” Skaffen asked bluntly, clearly hoping to knock me off balance! No such luck, Skaffen; I can answer blunt with blunt! Don’t think you can knock me off balance with a non-sequitur question out of absolutely nowhere! Just you watch.
“Oh God yes,” I said without hesitation as I flopped back onto my bed. “He’s one of those intelligent, amusing, confident people who seem to have their lives one-hundred percent in order. Those sort of people are terrifying.”
This was true, people like that were terrifying. The sorts of people who seem to know exactly what they want out of life and how to get it and enjoy every bit along the way to an extent that simply escapes normal, slovenly people like myself. Admirable souls yes and paragons - role models even! But terrifying, and deeply depressing to look at for too long. A reminder of how far short the rest of us fall.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“The nanohive thing?” I ventured, hoping maybe this was the correct answer. It was not.
“Not what I meant either and you know that,” she said, aura glowing dully.
“I don’t think I’m sure what you’re driving at,” I said. One of her fields came to rest lightly on my shoulders which also made the hairs stick up on the back of my neck. I was not sure why she was doing it.
“What do you guess I’m driving at? If you had to guess?” She asked, voice softer by far than I had yet heard it. I really had no idea. My blank look probably conveyed this. Skaffen sighed, aura darkening. Oopsie.
“Tillie seemed very friendly with Johnny, didn’t she?” She asked.
“Tillie is a friendly person. Johnny seems a friendly person too,”I said. I only had one encounter to back me on Johnny, but first impressions count for a lot, you know?
“That’s not - are you trying to be dense?” Skaffen asked, what patience she had managed to scrape together to talk to me clearly running thin. I shrugged, unable to care too much about it.
“I’m not trying, I assure you,” I said, in a perfectly calculated, infuriating remark. The kind that came naturally to me at the worst of possible moments. The kind that clearly pushed Skaffen to her limits before she managed to collect herself. Whatever field she’d put onto my shoulder evaporated as she turned away to look around my room. By all means, go ahead Skaffen, my room is just the sort of thing you can look through without warning.
“Tillie and I were best friends growing up, but Johnny was her best friend who was a boy growing up. They were close. Very close. Anytime it wasn’t me and her together it was her and him together. Are you grasping it now?”
“Everyone has friends,” I said, forcefully choosing not to grasp it. Letting it brush against my hand and shatter on the floor. Pretending to grasp it then turning my hand over to drop it. I was ignoring what she was saying, okay?
“Do the the words ‘childhood sweethearts’ mean anything to you?”
Okay, that’s hard to ignore. Rather than reply, I drank. Apparently for Skaffen this constituted enough of a response to continue talking.
“It was just a puppy love thing, dumb kids stuff. But everyone saw it was there. Just the way they were together, how they were almost always with each other, that sort of thing. Nothing ever came of it.”
So what, exactly, was the need to bring it up? This did not add any context I needed.
A rat-bastard sliver of my head suggested this was an attempt on Skaffen’s part to curry envy and jealousy and worry in me. I supposed I could see the logic in this - or at least understand the logic of it, if not the motivation - but didn’t pay it much attention. Jealousy was an unattractive thing in anyone, and also very unhelpful. It made people liable to act rashly and on shoddy information. I wasn’t going to give into that, as comfortable and attractive as it may appear.
“Is any of this getting through to you yet?” Skaffen asked.
“Pretend - or assume, whichever works better for you - that I have never encountered subject before, and just out-and-out tell me what it is you’re trying to drive at, because I don’t want to jump to conclusion,” I said. I’m not entirely stupid, I could probably guess where this was going, but I didn’t like what my guts and the rat-bastard were hinting at and would prefer not to hit such a conclusion myself. Skaffen could do her own dirty, my brain-hands would be clean. So to speak.
“I don’t think this relationship of yours is a good idea, for either of you,” Skaffen said.
Alright, well. I did ask, I suppose. Thnk I got a sudden chill.
“Fair enough,” I said, not really sure what else I could have said. This seemed to throw Skaffen for a loop as she didn’t immediately reply and instead just hung there in the air, aura a colour that told me nothing.
“She really likes you, you know,” Skaffen said when it finally became clear nothing else would happen otherwise.
“She does?” I asked. This was something I probably could have guessed on my own, you know, from personal experience, but it’s odd hearing it from someone else. Or maybe that’s just me. Skaffen gave that little bob in the air that corresponded to a nod.
“She does. Before she rang to get me down here she was always talking about you, and she wouldn’t have called me - in tears, I might add - to come down if this hadn’t affected her.”
Tears in this instance presumably being figurative. Or maybe it was like the coughing and crying was something she could do with or without actual tears. Nothing would surprise me, and neither made me feel better - knowing that you were involved in making someone cry is rarely a nice experience, unless you’re the kind of monster who enjoys that sort of thing. Those people must lead blissfully simple lives.
“Oh God, she talked about me? I’m not worth talking about, really,” I said.
“Well she clearly thought you were.”
“Point,” I said, conceding. Skaffen sighed. Not at my response, this much was obvious. It was a sigh of bracing for a weighty shift in direction. The worst, most terrifying kind of sigh. I felt the hairs go up on the back of my neck again.
“She likes you an awful lot, as I said. Which is why I’m worried about this.”
There was a logic in this I don’t think I was following or able to fully grasp. I felt like we were talking at cross purposes and I sort of wished she would just lay it out for me so I could at least have some idea of what on earth she was trying to tell me. I mean, she had told me what she was talking about, but she hadn’t told me told me, you know? Hadn’t explained it. How was I supposed to know what stages her thought process had gone through?
Some days - some specifics points on some days - you just felt like screaming. And screaming and screaming until your throat tore itself to shreds and you drowned in your own blood. Or just wished for an asteroid or earth-sundering orbital strike. Nukes, perhaps. Something to scour away even the merest trace of life.
No, that’s no good. Selfish, picturing the earth going away just to imagine your suffering ending. Very selfish, don’t do that. Better a very particular and discerning nuke or asteroid, one that just hit me. Much better, that. Picture that.
“Look, you seem like a nice guy, but this is not going to end well for either of you. Not end badly. It’s just that, once it’s over, you’ll both be unhappy. And it will be over, it’s going to happen. So it’s best to get it out of the way sooner. No point in prolonging it. Do you understand?” Did this count as Skaffen being polite to me? It was hard to tell.
Also, wait. What did she just say? Did I understand what?
Oh.
No, I did not. I felt I should communicate this. I finished the bottle, set it down, and leaned forward on the bed in such a way it creaked. Rather more loudly than I would have liked, but I couldn’t really help that.
“Help me out. Help a guy out. You might think you’ve given me enough to go on with ‘it won’t work out’ and ‘it’s not going to end well’ but there has been a conspicuous lack of, uh, you know, explanations as to why. So be blunt. Hurt my feelings. Help me understand,” I said.
“Honestly?” She asked, inclining slightly toward the door and extending a field to very-so-gently nudge it shut.
“Blunt as you like,” I said.
The door went click as it closed. I think I shivered.
“You and her do not work. I don’t care how much you may think you do, you don’t. Flesh-and-blood people like you are not cut out for it. Sooner or later you and your glands and your urges are going to make you do something that is going to get her hurt. Either that, or something a lot like it - she’ll hurt you because she doesn’t know how strong she is and how fragile you are. You are not like and she is not like you on levels deeper than an similarities or shared interests you have. There’s no getting around this, and as time goes on it’ll just get more and more obvious until it’s impossible to ignore and the whole thing falls apart. It’s inevitable.”
“I don’t-”
“These are ingrained, tangible issues and they’re not the kind you can just wish away. It is about fragility. You’re liable to get physically hurt, she’s liable to get emotionally hurt, you see? And it is going to happen. You’ve got bruises, haven’t you? How long until she cracks a rib? Have you even thought about that? How is that going to make her feel when she does it?”
“Really, I-”
“And how is she going to feel the next time you feel like letting another flesh-and-blood girl get a little too close to you? Or the next time you maybe want to feel someone against you with a pulse and warm skin? Are you going run away again when that happens?”
At this point I think the usual response would be anger, wouldn’t it? Yelling? I’m not really sure, I’ve never been in a situation like this before. The problem being I could sort of see the angle she was taking. Like, it’s not an unreasonable argument to make, and I can sort of see it from her side. I don’t agree, of course, but how am I to communicate that? Beyond just telling her I disagree, which lacks weight without support.
Assuming I can get a word in edgeways, of course.
“S’difference of opinion…” I mumbled, which actually stopped her.
“What?”
“I feel this is a difference of opinion. I can see your position and I can appreciate it but I disagree. This is a difference of opinion. I think this can work, I think what you’re saying will happen won’t necessarily happen. That’s my opinion.”
I even folded my arms on saying this, hoping it would give me an edge. Not sure what kind of edge, but it has some sort of effect, nody language. Right? Skaffen doesn’t even have arms, does she care what I do with mine? Unlikely. I can but try.
“You may not feel it now and you may not agree, but she’s better off without you and you’re better off without her. I’m sorry, but that’s just how it is,” said Skaffen, clearly thinking so little of what I’d said she couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge it.
“Difference of opinion. Again,” I said. Her aura darkened ever so slightly.
“Stop saying that. It’s something you’re going to have to deal with very soon, so I suggest you treat it a bit more seriously.”
That gave me a chil. Something in her tone. My arms even unfolded on their own and just sort of hung like limp bits of string.
“...what do you mean by that? Very soon? How soon is now?”
“A week is a long time. A week thousands of miles away across an ocean might be even longer. A lot can change,” she said, breezily. I think my skin was trying to crawl under the duvet to hide.
The rat-bastard part was adamant at this point that was Skaffen was talking about was using the opportunity to get Tillie away from me and give her a variation of the same talk she’d just given me. The whole ‘this is doomed to fail’ talk. But somewhere I couldn’t do anything about it. Somewhere with a childhood sweetheart within easy reach. But that would be a horrible thing to do to someone, so surely it couldn’t be that. Down rat-bastard, down; the adults are talking!
“You...I don’t...if this is another subtextual thing then I don’t...look, Skaffen, don’t…can’t you just let us have this?” I asked. Does this count as pleading, or begging? Or neither?
“It’s for your own good. Both of you.”
“Why do things people insist are for the good of others always so incredibly unpleasant?”
“Because if they were nice they wouldn’t need someone else to do them.”
Okay, that was a pretty good line, but still. Not a fan of this at all.
“I...respectfully disagree and would...rather you not...talk about any of this to Tillie. Talk about...Central Park or...Wall...Street or whatever. New York stuff, holiday stuff. Not this stuff. Not with me so far away, please Skaffen.”
“Me and Tillie are friends. Friends talk. About a lot of things. That’s just how it is.”
My drooping hand caught the neck of the bottle by my foot and I flinched, sitting up straight again. I grunted, sighed, rubbed my face.
“There is not a single compelling argument I can make to you right here and now that could change your mind, is there?” I asked.
“No,” she said.
“Is there anything I could have done before this point that would have made you not decide this was the best thing to do.”
“No,” she said, again. That actually made me feel the tiniest bit better, weirdly, as it kinda made this entirely Skaffen’s fault. That’s not the right way to think, is it?
“Well that’s good to know, glad you decided our compatibility before you even met me. Are you done here?”
“I think I am,”
“Good then...waft on out of here, Skaffen. And have a nice time,” I said, flopping back and staring at the ceiling as I heard the door open and close behind her. My ceiling sucked, by the way, and helped me not at all.
I got a hug from Tillie before she left. Once all her stuff was piled into Johnny’s car - and it appeared to me that just about everything that had been stuffed into his car was something of Tillie’s - she came back up the path to me. I’d just been standing there watching the whole time and not doing much. I’d offered to help, but I wasn’t needed.
She came at me with pace and hit me with force, squeezing me so hard I had legitimate difficulty drawing breath. But that was fine. I hugged her back as hard as I could manage too, until her corners cut into my arms. I think Skaffen was watching this, I think she was trying to communicate something no-verbally, but since this was Skaffen it was very hard to tell. The reflection on the car window didn’t help, in her defence.
“You have fun, yeah?” I said. Asked? Does one ask a rhetorical question-slash-request? I don’t know. I think I felt her trembling as she pulled back to look up at me. Lenses so wide. I’d never countered how many she had before, I realised. Now was not the time. More than two, less than fifteen. Or maybe more.
“You’re sure this okay?” She asked. I smiled, not looking at the car. Just looking at her.
Question: Was this going to be the last time I looked at her when she was my girlfriend? Answer: I don’t know. Could I do anything about it? Probably. Did I know what? No. Good topics for parting words to people very dear to you before they jaunt off for fun times in foreign lands typically do not extend to include ‘by the way your friend is planning on splitting us up, for our own good of course’. Would I want to ruin her holiday so? No, no I would not. Keep your mouth shut, see what happens. As long as she’s happy by the end of it then everything works out. You can go die in a ditch for all I care, as long as Tillie is okay. Yeah? Yeah.
“More than sure, more than okay. Have fun, like I say. Now off you go, don’t want to miss your plane, eh?” I said, hoping none of the nonsense churning in my head was showing in my face.
I gave her a kiss and she finally let go. I wheezed as she made her way back down the path. About halfway she paused, glanced back to me, considered something, but then continued without a word, piling into the car a moment later. She waved as they drove off, as did Johnny. Skaffen was physically incapable of waving, but I had my doubts she would have done anyway.
I kept watching until they turned a corner and disappeared from view, and then a minute or so after that I slouched back into the empty house, humming a Freddy Mercury song to myself. It seemed appropriate, given the circumstances.
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Once Mine Always Mine Part 5
I know its been a while lol Forgive me
Enjoy!
WARNING: Abuse... Alcohol use, reference to mental illness
Present day
The steaming water was running over my body as I stood in our walk in shower. My mind kept flashing back to Bruce and me in the bedroom earlier. Sex with him was very different from anyone I had ever been with and before long I found myself biting my lip in anticipation. I got out and dried my hair, my long black tresses we’re long gone but I really wanted to dye it back. When I was seeing the joker I had bleached my hair and dyed the ends several colors. When Bruce found me I had pretty much given up. I had finally grown tired of being the scape goat in The Jokers schemes. I was standing on top of the Wayne Industries building ready to jump and end my life when I was caught by Basty himself. J spent a year trying to get me back before he found her; His new girl, Harley. She was crazy for him, just like I had been. She’d been somewhat normal when he met her but she managed to weasel her way into his heart. I suppose there would always be bitterness about someone else being with J, but that’s what happens when the love of your life is beyond sane reasoning. You don’t try to bring them back; you go over the edge with them.
I got dressed and headed into the bedroom so I could manage my books before going to work tonight. I still ran my club against Bruce’s caution. We came to a compromise and we both decided that I could keep my club if I picked up a side hobby that allowed me to use my brain in a positive way. So I went back to school as a scientist I couldn’t choose a major so I opted for a new my old one and a new one. Being the crazy person I am I started i wonder how I really got this way so I took up psychology. I did most of my classes online, even with my crime history but transcripts were “extensively impressive” as my acceptance letter stated. So I got in without a hitch.
I won’t sit here and say that everything about my new life was picture perfect because it was far from it. The first six months of mine and Bruce’s time together was miserable for everyone except Alfred. He was the only person I trusted. I was twelve feet deep into the loony bin when Bruce took me in, if you could call it that. He kept me locked up downstairs in his cave. I tried to kill him several times, unable to ignore my loyalty to The Joker. I refused to eat or drink anything for the first week and I didn’t trust The Bat at all. I also suffered from terrible nightmares which made sleep impossible. Alfred convinced The Bat to take of his mask and outfit and seeing Bruce is what finally won me over.
I had my days though; when the nightmares would return and I would wonder what J was doing, but that was before he got with her. Now I didn’t need to wonder he was back to his crazy ways with a new partner in crime and with Bruce being the one to chase him around I always had a current play by play. J didn’t know about me, he thought I was dead and that’s exactly how it was going to stay. Being treated like a rag doll for so long by J had really ruined my idea of love. I don’t even know what to call what we had. Torture? Now that I had been away from J for some time I could finally see myself the way others did and I was far from proud.
I sighed and started typing of my paper for class when the voices started again.
“You can’t ignore who you are forever!” They hissed.
“I’m not ignoring it, that was never who I was. it was someone I pretended to be!” I huffed.
“He needed you and you just abandoned him!” They were getting louder.
“He didn’t want us, he didn’t even love us and after everything I did for him!” they were starting to get to me and I could hear their anger creep into my voice.
“Don’t you miss Mistah J? We know you do…” I got up from my desk and went to the closet. I kept everything from my time with The Joker inside a box hidden in the back. Turning on the light I walked inside and closed the door behind me. The box was red and black with one of my many nicknames from the joker “Doll Face” written on it. My hands trembled as I lifted the lid. The first thing that caught my eye was my favorite red stilettos that J had purchased for me. The heels were golden and the insides were black. I sifted through the bottom of the box and found the one thing I had been looking for. A red and black jacket embroidered with the words “Property of The Joker” the jacket matched my tattoo on my hip. I held on to the Jacket and lost myself in its memories.
PAST
“Why are you doing this to me?” I cried with my gun in hand. Id pissed him off as usual but it was only because he’d pissed me off first. He’d cut me off after two months; didn’t even come by the club to check on things. He’d been sending frost and I was finally fed up with it.
“You think you can just sleep with me and toss me away. I’ve given you everything!” I said through clenched teeth.
“You haven’t given me anything I didn’t already have!” he walked up to me and pushed the gun I held aside, cupping my face in his tattooed hand.
“I just want to be with you and only you.” I whined through his palm.
“I don’t want you Doll, I’m done playing with you. I’m not even real. I’m just something you invented in your head!” he grinned that silver grin that sends shivers to my intimate places.
“Please, play with me. I’m bored.” I stuck my lip out.
“I don’t have time for you stupid little girl!” he flung my head to the side and walked away. I watched him put his gold jacket on over his white shirt.
“Why not, you used to have time for me.” I could feel the anger starting to rise in my chest.
“Because, you’re insane!” he stuffed his guns into the holsters under his jacket and smoothed down his green hair.
“YOU MADE ME THIS WAY!” I screamed and put a bullet into the mirror he was staring at.
“THERE YOU GO! ALWAYS FINDING NEW WAYS TO PISS ME OFF!” he turned around slowly while he screamed, yanking his jacket down.
“Well what do you expect me to do? I’m not asking for the world Mistah J, I just wanna be yours but you won’t let me! You’re actin like ya don’t even care!” I cried desperately.
“It’s not an act Doll Face; I don’t care about anything but ME!” With those cold words he walked right past me and out of the front door.
I ran outside after him into the cold winter air but he was already gone. Jumping in my personal vehicle decided to find a place where I could binge drink in shame with no witnesses. What I didn’t know is that I would be doing a lot of shameful things shortly.
When I got home I locked the doors and drew the shades, I was embracing the darkness that was growing inside and making sure the outside matched its intensity. I crawled out of my fancy shoes and clothes finding a T-shirt and slippers. Tossing my hair in a ponytail I flopped down on my couch and found something to watch, with a bottle of whiskey by my side. The first shot slid down my throat like venom but after the third one I forwent the glass and drank from the bottle. I didn’t drink often, my father was a drunk and I owned a club. Being fully aware was very important when there were people out to get you twenty-four seven. I just wanted pretend for a few hours I wasn’t miserable over some green haired criminal who wanted nothing to do with me. I just wanted someone to share in my misery with. Was that so wrong?
“Of course it is!” I answered my own question out loud.
I pushed my black framed glasses back up to the bridge of my nose and frowned at the near empty bottle. Is this was my future with The Joker, why on earth did I want one so badly. My rational thought was dissipating with every drink and before long I started to wonder if I could survive without him. The real question was did I want to? How far would I go?
Sighing I brought the bottle to my lips once more downing the last few drops. Groaning I got up from my couch to hunt down another one.
Present
I lowered the jacket from my face and laid it gently back into the box, closed the box and put it back in its hiding spot. There were so many things running through my head as I closed the closet door behind me. I would never love another man as much as him. I would never allow myself to depend on someone as much as him and I certainly would never compromise myself ever again for any man either. I quickly slipped into my dress and black stilettos and headed downstairs. I needed to get out of here, id been cooped up in the manor for too long. Bruce didn’t know but I kept one of my old flats…. I needed time away.
I just hope he’d would understand
#joker fanfiction#the joker#joker smut#joker fandom#harley quinn#dc comics#bruce wayne#bat#jared leto#margot robbie#christian bale#sexy#pictures#Audrey#she demon#Followme#hurts#alcohol#abuse#suicide squad
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