#ahh i might be clowning but i really wonder if we get slightly more than tiny crumbs this ep | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

funforahermit · 2 years

Text

Right, here it is by popular demand, the transcript of the most adorable video on instagram, starring Rhys and his goats!

-Watch the video here-

Hello!!

Just a quick moment to say hello. Well I've done that. Uhm, on a Saturday. Here I am, out on the coast here in New Zealand, with my goats. So you might wanna say hello to these guys.

*Smoochie noises on the goat's nose*

Say hello! Uhh, we've got a couple of Anglo-Nubian... kids.

*super warm-hearted little laugh*

Look, here they are. So this one is... What's your name? You're Barney, aren't you? That's Barney. And the other one's Fred. There's Fred at the back there. They love climbing on the rocks. So uh, I just thought I'd make your day by seeing a bit of that... natural... hilarity. Nothing brings more joy than a couple of larrikin goats. Look at them, they're gonna get try as high as they can up there. Because uhm, that's their natural thing to do. Look! And as they get older, they'll probably even... maybe even get up the cliff. I wonder if... if goats were used, uh, in any of the wars, as sort of undercover, abseiling, behind enemy lines, uh, tactical... unit.

Some questions here, any questions? What are we looking at. "So high", "goat"... "You are the goat!" Thank you.

Uh... "present", good, everyone present, who's present?

"Join them in their climb to greater heights" Yeah, I think I'd probably hurt myself

*quickest change of mind ever*

Yeeahh I could probably get up there! Let's see if I can get up there.

*starts putting phone down on a rock or something*

Set this up like this. Here we go.

*walks over to cliff, starts climbing*

[To the goats] Come on, who can get as high as me? Look! I'm higher! Come on!

*clicking and whistling*

*climbs*

Uah... That's pretty good!

*points at foothold*

Look at that up here, look at this bit!

*proceeds climbing*

*slips, but catches himself*

Uahh! I'm fine!!

I'm up here, look!

*tries to lure the goats*

*whistles*

Come on!!

*Fred and Barney nope out*

Ah you guys, you're just.. you're too pedigree!

They've buggered off!

*half climbs half jumps down*

*comes back to camera*

Oh they've buggered off. They couldn't quite get as high as me. Typical.

*sighs*

[to the goats] Don't feel bad, guys.

[to camera] They're only young. I'm still training them. Ahh..

*sniffs*

*reads something on screen*

*laughs*

I feel like this is the footage we'll see on the news! Look. I'm well aware that I could have slipped there. But, there're actually handholds, and uh... Don't do this at home. Kids. Always do it on... the sides of cliffs. And, I'm army trained, don't forget that, so I've got uh, I've got the moves.

Right. What else are we saying here? "Can you please do the helicopter noise" Come on!! I need a microphone for that. Uhm... It's just not as good without the mic.

"Best X-Files episode of the modern era"!! Wow! I'm assuming you not mean... you don't mean this:

*moves camera slightly to show the goats in the background*

You mean the one I did. Thank you, I really appreciate that. I actually had someone come up to me in a bar once and say "wh... why did you do that?!", like I ruined X-Files. And I've had other people say it's quite a legendary... I, I loved it, myself. Uhm, because it was right up my alley. Monster of the week. Uh, it had comedy, and, the best part was I... got to do it! Blew me away that I was part of that world - a world that I've always been fascinated with, possibly obsessed with. That's the paranormal.

Uhm, "Love your socks." Oh! So you must have seen those when I... These are actually my sailing socks.

*films his foot*

They're... supporting Team New Zealand, which actually won...

*is distracted by goats*

Oh look at them there!

*something amusing happens off camera*

Ah!! Ya clowns! They could actually be clowns.

*picks up walking stick (?)*

Well I won't keep you here, 'cause I know this is probably boring.

*resumes reading though*

Uh, "Jumanji 3?" Uh, good question. Can't see why not. Nothing official yet, but uh, they'd be silly not to.

"Loved Short Poppies" Thank you. So did I, loved making it. Uh.. it was a while ago now. I wanted to make more, but really, it really was just one series, uh, a documentary on the lives of, uh, of some New Zealanders. Uhm, it kinda, it finished. I've thought about doing another one, maybe, where are they ten years from that point? Uh, that'd be fun. But um, it's a lot of work. You know, and uh, TVNZ just don't really, uh, know what they're doing with television.

"I love you" Oh thank you! If you could leave your details, that'd be great, 'cause I'm really into... into love, I need a lot of it.

You loved Voltron, good,

"Jumanji 26" Well that's... that's probably pushing it.

A dragon on a flag, "thoughts?" Love it. Love Wales. I mean, after all I have a Welsh name. Definitely got background there.

*looks over at the goats*

Oh look at these guys!

*mystery device says "WORKOUT RESUMED"*

Oh! My workout's resumed. Don't know whether you heard that.

*films goats*

Hey guys!! Shall we get going back?

*"WORKOUT PAUSED"*

*goats eat the greenery on the cliff*

You're actually not allowed to eat a lot of that! Okay?! Come on! Come on, stop eating that. Let's get going!

[To camera] They eat anything. And I've got some...

*is interrupted/drowned out by "WORKOUT RESUMED"*

Oh the bloody workout keeps resuming, I don't know whether you can hear that, but, you know...

*sniffs*

*takes a step*

*trips (which is fair because he's looking at his phone not where he's going)*

Ooh!! Keeping fit. I've got some food in my back pocket, so I can make sure I get them back in the pen. Otherwise they'll be off for the day.

"Where do you live in New Zealand?" Hoho, that's a secret location. It's uh, on the coast. But you'll never find out.

"You wouldn't swear at me, would you Murray"

*laughs*

Oh you guys. Such classic moments.

Uhm... "Model planes"? I love model planes. Uh, haven't had time to make one lately. Last thing I made was uh, a Kübelwagen

(he doesn't say that right, but I looked it up and it's German so... 'xD)

It was a little... I did that in, uhm, lockdown. No, what was it? Quarantine. So many new words these days, isn't there.

"Dan is my favourite." Ah well, I just don't believe that. You can say that, but, I know it's me. What about Buttons? Any Buttons fans here? We just did a podcast yesterday. Uh, so he's working on it today. He was supposed to come up, we were gonna go on a, uh, a river adventure, but he decided to stay home and edit the podcast, so... Uh we're doing a live podcast too, during the comedy festival here, so we'll be streaming that, uhm, and Dan will be via a zoom... a zoom screen.

"Buttoooons!!"

*trumpet noises*

*trips again*

Oop. There you are, there's a sound effect.

Uh... god, they love the rocks. Speaking of rocks, I might head home and grab myself a gin and tonic. So, all the best, have a fancy weekend,

*"WORKOUT PAUSED"*

*nods*

Workout paused. Uh, workout will be resumed again very shortly

*reads something clearly amusing and/or pleasing but doesn't say what it is*

and yeah, we'll work on getting some more merch down

*reads even more and looks very happy <3*

I love you guys, uhh, take care, and uhh, yeah.

Goat on.

*smiles like he knows what he's done*

Have a goat day.

#i bloody love him #rhys darby #the goats vid #long post

33 notes · View notes

dulce-pjm · 3 years

Text

clean up on aisle seven!

word count: 3.3k

genre: casual fluff :)

summary: you really didn’t want to go on this grocery trip. and now you’re stuck trying to track down that last thing your mom needs while the clock is ticking before she checks out. but something (or someone) might just make you lose track of time.

This is your worst nightmare. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your breaths were shallow and staggered, and you could feel droplets of sweat quickly accumulating on your forehead. You’d just suffered finals week and you could definitely say this was the most stressful situation you’d experienced in your life.

This might be where you die.

Actually, if you died now, your mother would drag you back from the grave and kill you again for being so dramatic.

You were standing helpless in the middle of the produce section of your hometown’s grocery store, desperately looking for the red potatoes. And while you frantically scanned for the vegetable- Are potatoes vegetables? Maybe they’re starches. Or a root. It isn’t important. What is important is that you have no clue where they are and your mom is currently in the checkout line, wondering what’s taking so long.

Onions, leeks, asparagus, radishes, cabbage. . .

Maybe you were looking in the wrong place. You circle the aisle, hoping you don’t look like a madwoman as you wring your hands and tug at your hair.

You were a STEM major, for god’s sake! You just crushed your sophomore finals (maybe. probably. you completed them, it’s all that matters), you were not going to let some stupid red potatoes and a fear of abandonment you’ve harbored since childhood distress you in this way.

Spinach, lettuce, carrots, celery. . .

You know, you never should have agreed to go on this grocery trip. Just an hour before now, you’d been comfortable in bed, sleeping in to your heart’s content. But it’s the holidays and you know your mom likes to run her errands with someone and the guilt was just too much. So you let her drag you out of bed and you barely got to brush your teeth before she was dragging you out of the house, too. You probably looked like a wreck. You sure felt like one.

Tomatoes, avocadoes, peppers. . .

Normally by now you’d suck it up and ask an employee for help like the adult you were supposed to be, but, just your luck, the entire section is void of any workers. Honestly, good for them. You’re sure they’re tired of dealing with hopeless idiots like you, anyway.

Garlic, strawberries, blueberries. . .

Who puts garlic next to strawberries? And how did you end up in the fruit section? Even you could do a better job organizing this place. Or maybe you have poor observational skills. You decide not to dwell on which thought is more correct.

You rush back to where you started, begging your eyes to actually work and help you with this one task.

And then: a miracle. Yellow potatoes! You scan the vicinity and...

No red potatoes to be found. Maybe there’s no such thing as red potatoes. Maybe your mom just wanted you to go away for a while. Well, no, that can’t be it. You’re certain you’ve had red potatoes before.

The stress was getting to you. By now, your mom was probably loading her groceries onto the conveyor belt, annoyed at your slow pace and mind.

You know, in many other situations you’d actually consider yourself good under pressure. Put you in a lab coat and in front of a titration and you were a goddamn genius, if you did say so yourself. But once you weren’t poring over textbooks or analyzing data, you felt completely useless. Ask you to cook and you’ll set the kitchen ablaze. Anything more athletic than a casual jog is off the table. Your friends often joke that you can’t even be trusted with a microwave. For good reason. How were you supposed to know those chicken sandwich bags can’t go in the microwave? They’re made of paper.

Other shoppers bristle past you to grab their own groceries, but all you can do is reply with a few murmured “sorries” and stand in the middle of the place looking like a lost puppy. To them, you look utterly distressed. A few shoppers consider asking if you’re okay, but little do they know there’s only one question plaguing your mind.

“Where are the motherfucking red potatoes?!”

You didn’t mean for it to slip out, but at least there’s no one close enough to hear-

A giggle rings from the other side of the waist-high aisle you’ve been staring at. Your eyes slide up to meet the gaze of a boy not too much taller than you- kind of cute too- but the important thing is that he’s staring right at you. Very obviously trying (and failing) to fight an uncontrollable grin on his face.

Your cheeks heat like a furnace. All you can do is stand and stare, caught red-handed cursing over produce at the corner grocery store.

The boy with full, boyish cheeks, twinkling eyes, and a very cute smile that you might consider infectious in any other scenario leans forward on the tips of his toes and peers at the side the aisle you’ve been intently gazing at for the past several minutes. To your horror, he lifts his finger and points just inches from where you were just looking.

“Maybe right there?” It isn’t said sarcastically or with even a hint of ridicule, but despite his genuine nature you only grow more sheepish. You wish you could shrink into your sweatshirt and never come back out.

You lower your eyes to the direction he’s pointing and lo and behold, there are several bags of red potatoes just under your nose.

“Oh. . uh. . Thanks.” You tentatively reach and grab a bag, your eyes not leaving the boy’s face. You can’t help but notice the line forming between his eyebrows and the way he cocks his head to the side. Now, that you think about it, there’s something distinctly familiar about him.

“Wait, Y/N?” Your eyebrows raise, and that seems to be all the confirmation he needs to know that you somewhat recognize him too. “I’m Jimin!” He continues when you don’t respond. “We were best friends when we were, what, six or seven?”

The memories immediately begin rushing back. Though many of your memories from back then have faded, you can remember very distinctly the elementary days full of you and a younger version of the boy across from you causing mischief. More specifically, the two of you thought up increasingly risky pranks to play on your parents and friends until one or both of you got the scolding of a lifetime. You’d nearly completely forgotten about him.

“Yeah, it’s me,” you finally manage. “It’s been a while.” Jimin circles to your side of the aisle.

“Oh my god! When was the last time I saw you?” Jimin thinks for a moment. “Wasn’t it your birthday party? When we hid in the bathroom cabinet and it took them hours to find us!” The memory has the both of you giggling.

“Yeah! My mom would have grounded me for scaring her so badly if it wasn’t my birthday.” The atmosphere is comfortable. Almost as if it had been no time at all.

“I think if anyone was scared, it was you. Weren’t you terrified of the dark?” You blush despite the ridiculousness of his teasing.

“Hey! I talk to you for two minutes after all this time and you’re already back to making fun of me?” Despite their legitimacy, the words carry no malice and you’re grinning from ear to ear. A smirk plays on Jimin’s cheeks and you catch yourself studying his features. It should seem normal, but you’re slightly struck by how much he’s grown up. His baby fat is long gone, replaced with a striking and defined look despite his sweet and boyish features. His brunette locks are neatly cut, his bangs complimenting his cheeks and forming a slight heart shape on his forehead. He’s cute.

If you weren’t so caught up in your own embarrassment, you might have noticed the endeared look he’s giving you as he studies your face at the same time.

“What can I say?” he replies with a shrug. “You’ve always been easy to tease.” You scoff, shifting the bag of potatoes in your arms.

“Speak for yourself, crayon-eater.” Jimin’s giggle is infectious, drawing a snort or two out of you, though you desperately try to play it off as just a cough.

“Where did you end up going? I never saw you after that.”

“Ahh, we moved to the other side of the city. It was pretty sudden.” Jimin nods in understanding.

“I guess you moved again for college, too?” he asks tentatively, gesturing to your sweatshirt. You glance down at the university logo before meeting his eyes again.

“Yeah, I’m just back for the holidays. You?”

“I go to university in the city. Just picking up some groceries for my family. I tend to do our grocery shopping on weekday mornings anyway, since most of my classes are in the afternoon.” You learn that Jimin is a communications major, which you think suits his personality spectacularly. Jimin is not even close to surprised to find out you’ve dedicated yourself in chemistry.

“And to think, just yesterday we were making potions from mud in your backyard. You’re practically a prodigy. Can I get your autograph? You know, for when you become a famous scientist saving the world and all that?” You shake your head, noting that Jimin is just as ridiculous as you remember him.

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” you muse. “But I’m leaning more towards education. I’d like to teach high schoolers one day, maybe college students too.” Now that strikes Jimin as a surprise, evident by his shocked expression. You can’t help staring at the way his lips puff out in an unintentional pout.

“Really? You want to deal with those brats? We just left high school and you already want back?” If your mom thought you were a drama queen, Jimin had you beat tenfold. He’d always been a bit of a class clown, always supplying exaggerated expressions and stupid jokes to garner as many laughs as possible. You roll your eyes.

“They’re not that bad.” You pause. “Well, they are pretty bad but I think I could get through it if I knew I could make at least one kid excited about science, you know?” You inwardly cringe at your mini-spiel. Normally once you get talking about your love for chemistry, your friends zone out or casually change the subject to avoid massive boredom. But to your surprise, Jimin doesn’t seem the least bit annoyed at your sappy, nerd-ish outlook on your career. Instead, he’s nodding with you, attentive and interested.

“That’s. . . really nice.” You blush, stopping yourself from going on a further tangent, sure he has much better things to be doing than listening to you go on and on.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” You twiddle your thumbs and Jimin tugs on the sleeves of his oversized sweater. “Do you still have that cat? What did you name him... Snuggles?”

“Chubbles!” he nearly shouts with a massive smile. “And yeah, I do. He’s still overweight as ever. And old as hell. But I love the grumpy thing to pieces.”

“He was so cute! I remember cuddling with him while watching cartoons together.”

“Oh my god, yeah! That was the only time my mom would let me eat in the living room. I swear those waffles tasted better in front of the tv screen.” The story sparks a memory in your mind.

“Hey, wanna know a secret?” Jimin leans in slightly, confused but definitely interested. You pause for effect. “My mom didn’t let us eat in the living room either. I only said that because you wanted to and I thought it’d convince your mom.” Jimin feigns a gasp, putting a hand on his chest.

“Are you serious? I was jealous of you for years after that and it wasn’t even true? You said your family always ate in the living room.”

“I may have exaggerated a lot of things back then in order to impress you.”

“No way. Then do I really know you at all? Was everything a lie?” You find yourself laughing again. Talking with him is easy, like being kids again.

You shrug. “I like to maintain an aura of mystery.” Now Jimin’s the one rolling his eyes at your antics.

“Hey, speaking of Chubbles, do you want to see a picture of him? My mom posted the best picture of him on Facebook the other day.” Jimin whips out his phone. While others might find a college student doting on his cat and his mom’s Facebook a bit dorky, you find it all too endearing.

“Um, of course!” You step towards him to peer at his phone. But instead of cat pictures, all the two of you see is an endless loading screen.

“Shit. My service sucks out here. I’m sorry.” He gives an apologetic look, but you’re quick to brush it off.

“No, it’s okay. You can just send it to me later.” The connotation of your words hit you like a freight train and you’re about to not-so-eloquently take them back, but Jimin beats you, a smile is plastered across his face. A part of you wants to reach up and squish his cheeks together, but you don’t need to create any more reason for the other shoppers to think you’re unhinged. Also, personal space.

“Oh, great. I’ll just get your number-”

“Y/N.” You freeze, your head whipping around behind you to where your mother stands. She glares at you with her hands set on her hips, no groceries in sight.

“Oh, um, oops.” You muster the best smile you can but your mother is anything but amused. “I found the red potatoes!” You hold up the bag that’s been making your arms ache, as if that would magically fix the situation. She scoffs.

“And while you did, I checked out, paid, put the groceries in the car, and realized that we’d already gotten red potatoes. They were just piled under all that sugary cereal you insist on-” Her eyes flicker to the boy standing awkwardly behind you when she lets out a scream of joy. “Park Jimin!” She nearly shoves you aside to wrap him in a hug, instantly recognizing him despite years of not seeing him. Though if Jimin’s mom is active on Facebook, you guess your mom has seen plenty of Jimin via social media. While you stare incredulously at your mother, Jimin is staring at you, internally laughing at your expression.

“How’s your mother? Is she well? Healthy?” Jimin nods with a charming smile.

“Yes, she’s great.” Your mom is clutching Jimin’s hands as if she’s in her seventies and not her forties. Jimin awkwardly shifts his grocery basket to his elbow, but your mom pays no mind to the uncomfortable position he’s in.

“Oh, you’ve grown so much! I can still remember the days when you two were taking baths together!” Your face blanches while Jimin chokes. Knowing the volume of your mom’s voice, you’re sure the entire grocery store knows your and Jimin’s history now. “You know, I was just thinking about your mother the other day. When we were pregnant with the two of you, we-”

“Hey, Mom.” You place a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t you think we should get going? The groceries are in the car...”

“Oh! You’re right, sweetie,” she smiles. It seems that all it took was Jimin’s charm (and by charm, you mean standing there with that grin of his) for her to completely forget about your previous transgression. She turns back to Jimin. “It was lovely to see you, dear. Please tell your mother I said hello. We really should have a get-together over the holidays, don’t you think?”

“That sounds like a great idea, Mrs. L/N,” Jimin says, his eyes trailing to you. “Sorry for keeping your daughter. We were reconnecting and lost track of time.”

“You’re too sweet. I’m sure my daughter was the one babbling on about whatever popped into her head next. It’s no wonder she got lost looking for potatoes, she’s so easily distracted. You know, we had to put her on a leash as a child.” Your cheeks flush red while you get the sense that Jimin is enjoying this a little too much, despite his awkward smile.

“Oh...” You can tell he’s doing his best to spare you the mortification, but if anything his efforts to conceal his laughter only make you more eager to end the conversation.

“Uh... Mom... Groceries...”

“Fine, fine. You didn’t seem to care that much when you were flirting in the produce aisle.” Now that is the final straw.

“Mom! Oh my god, let’s just go.” You feel like a teenager again, embarrassed and at your mother’s mercy. “Bye, Jimin! It was nice seeing you!” You grab your mother by the elbow and nearly drag her out of the store, tossing the red potatoes back onto the aisle as you go. You barely catch Jimin’s weak wave as you storm out.

“He really is such a sweet boy, I’ll have to give his mother a call.” Call. That’s right. You forgot to give him your number.

On pure instinct alone, you spring around, abandoning your mother in the parking lot to sprint back inside.

“Y/N? Y/N! Where are you going?”

“I’ll be right back! Start the car!” Your mother sighs and shakes her head. You imagine she’s pinching the bridge of her nose and wondering how her child still acts like a seven-year-old chasing after butterflies.

You find Jimin not far from where you left him, skimming through the juices. You do your best not to show how heavy you’re breathing or how you’ve nearly broken a sweat. And you curse yourself for not using the university gym more often. Upon seeing you reappear, Jimin’s face lights up, albeit somewhat confused.

“Oh, hey.” He holds up two jugs of orange juice. “Pulp or no pulp?” You freeze for a moment.

“Pulp. Obviously.” Jimin nods in agreement, putting the jug in his basket. He looks at you expectantly. “And I forgot to give you my number.” You quickly catch yourself. “For that Chubbles pictures.”

“Oh, yeah. Right.” Jimin’s hand rises to the back of his neck nervously as you punch the digits into his phone, making a contact for yourself. If your friends saw you now, they’d think you’d been replaced by aliens or finally gone over the edge. But something in you just had to do it.

“Send me that picture, yeah?” You hand him back his phone.

“Of course.” Jimin gives you a salute, making you giggle shamelessly again. With nothing more to say, you spin on your heel and speed walk out of the store to be mercilessly interrogated by your mother.

Jimin shakes his head and smiles to himself as he watches your retreating form. He makes a mental note to go through his mom’s scrapbooks to find a childhood photo of you two to use as your profile picture.

While your mom is berating you for wasting time and questioning your intentions with Jimin, you couldn’t be happier, grinning from ear to ear. Didn’t Jimin say he did the grocery shopping on weekday mornings?

“Y/N, are you listening to me?” You nod vigorously, which is enough for her when she switches to ranting about gas prices nowadays.

But in reality, you’re not listening at all. You’re planning your next grocery trip.

At least next time you’ll know where to find the motherfucking red potatoes. Though you doubt you’ll need to remember. Something tells you Jimin will remember this for a long time too.

#bts #jimin #jimin x reader #jimin fluff #bts scenario #jimin scenario #bts fluff #kind of boring but short and sweet (i hope)

33 notes · View notes

thirsty4theextraordinary · 3 years

Text

Everything Burns - Chapter 18

Pairing: Ledger Joker X OC

Warnings: Murder, Guns, Extreme Violence, Gun Violence, Blood,

Word count: 2825

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | - Chapter 17

Chapter 18: Social Experiment

Jester crawled to peered out the window towards the two ferries which now sat stationary in the middle of the water and had been, for a few minutes now. She looked up at Joker as he pulled a piece of paper and his phone from his pocket. He smiled at her quickly before he dialled the number and waited a few moments, she heard the strange dial tone as he called into the speaker system of the ferries below.

"Tonight, you're all gonna be a part of a social experiment, through the magic of diesel fuel and ammonium nitrate I'm ready right now to blow you all sky-high." the Joker began as slight feedback came through the phone. He grinned at her as he continued.

"If anyone attempts to get off their boat, you all die. Each of you has a remote to blow up the other boat. At midnight, I blow you all up. If, however, one of you presses the button, I'll let that boat live." he looked out at the boats reading from the paper in his hands as he spoke.

"So who's it gonna be? Harvey Dent's most-wanted scum-bag collection or the sweet innocent civilians? You choose." he cheered like he was the host of some kind of twisted game show.

"Oh, and you might wanna decide quickly because the people on the other boat may not be quite so noble." with that last word he hung up and stuffed the phone back into his pocket. He turned to Jester and held his hand out to her, she took it and he pulled her to her feet roughly.

"Now we just gotta watch the show! We have 25 minutes to midnight, any bets on what time they will blow each other up?" laughed Joker as positioned himself behind her wrapping his strong around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I say they will leave it till about 5 minutes to midnight then the civilians will blow up the prisoners," said Jester as she snuggled back into him.

"Hmmm, well I hope it doesn't take that long, but then again I'm sure this won't be our only entertainment tonight," he said running one hand up and down her side.

He moved away from her and stared out the window. His movements turning to that of a caged lion. He continued to pace up and down the window slowly as she turned and made her way to the other side of the building. She looked down at the floor where a pair of binoculars had been left, she bent and picked them up and peered across at the building opposite. Just below her on the roof of the other building was a swat team of police officers and someone else that she assumed to be Gordon.

"There is a swat team assembling on the roof of the other building" she called out to Joker, but she was met with silence, she turned to see that he was still pacing. She wondered if he had heard her but decided not to bother repeating herself, she continued to watch the officers. Gordon picked up his own binocular and for a second she thought he was looking at her but of course, he wasn't, she was higher than his line of sight. He must have been looking at the floor where the boys and the hostages were. As she watched something on the corner of the roof caught her eye.

"The Bat's there too now" she called and Joker let out a loud cackle.

"Brilliant, now it really is a party," he said, still laughing.

"I'm sure Bats will be here any minute. Jester, I want you to go to the next floor up, keep watch and kill any cops you come across," he said as his pacing stopped and he turned to her.

"But I want to stay with you" she said simply as she dropped the binoculars to her feet and walked over to him, her boots clicking slightly on the floor.

"Go!" he said sternly and she cringed at his voice, his face softened but he did not speak simply turned his back to her and continued to stare out the window.

She moved slowly away heading towards the rickety ladders leading up to the floor above. She looked up at the boards and scaffolding above, the building was still under construction on the higher floors.

Her mind did not even imagine such fears as falling, not since Jack had bulldozed his way into her life. She did not fear her own death as she once did. The only thing that scared her now was losing him, not being around him every day. She looked back at his purple-clad back as she climbed up the ladder until she lost sight of him. She pulled herself up onto the boarded floor and stood. The floor was simply scaffold boards around the edge of the room and across the middle, leaving large gaps so that she could see down onto Joker's level. She giggled as she heard a large thump on one of the floors below, no doubt the Bat was crashing the party, she skipped her way along the bouncy flooring to stare down at Jack below her.

She stood directly above him and laughed, he looked up and gave her a bemused looked.

"What's so funny Jester!" he asked and she laughed again.

"I was just thinking if you were a girl, I would have a perfect view down your top from here," she said bending over to look at him better.

"Really well I have a perfectly good view up your top right now," he said, smirking slightly and she mocked surprise and pursed her lips at him.

"By the way, I think Bats just crashed your party," she said as she moved away to look out into the open expanse in front of her. Only a few of the enormous windows had been fitted, leaving huge expanses open to the air. The urge to jump hummed in the back of her head as she looked over the edge.

"There's that voice, jump, just do it! Do IT!" she said to herself as she laughed madly.

"Not so much the urge to jump something more, something deeper" she whispered as she dangled a foot over the edge of the open window, the winds whipping her hair around her face. She heard him move on the floor below and she tore herself away from the open window and move along the board further.

She heard an enormous boom from below, and she pulled her chainsaw from its holder, holding it in front of her stiffly as she started the motor. It hummed gloriously. She stood stock still as she watched a few swat team police officers repelling down the side of the building. One lost his footing on the open window and fell into her room.

He didn't notice her as he unclipped his harness and began to stand. She lashed out, hitting him so hard in the shoulder his arm was sliced cleanly from his body and went flying back out the window he had just entered. The blood from the impact sprayed her in the face and the man screamed. If Jester hadn't been mad before she had now hit the point of no return, for a second she stared at the bleeding man, the place where his arm had been was spitting blood and she laughed. She laughed and laughed. The sound of a chainsaw so loud in her brain she could hear nothing else around her, the rest of the swat team continued down the building unaware of the peril their colleague was in.

Her mind was so loud and manic as she wielded the chainsaw over her head and bore it down upon the man over and over again. A few times it bounced off his body armour but soon he was nothing but a pile of blood and severed limbs. Her face was splattered with blood and she grinned like a madman at the sight, her mothers screams terrorising her mind. The screams so loud she could hear little else.

She rushed over to the open window and looked down to where the swat team had just abseiled. She turned the chainsaw off and pushed it back onto her hip holder and made her way back towards where Joker was. He was still pacing up and down and she watched him from above. There was more noise coming from below as the remaining swat team entered the building. She stared down at him as the Rottweilers began to bark loudly.

"Ahh, you made it. I'm so thrilled," said Joker to the new person. Jester moved her position to see the person more clearly. The Bat was walking towards Joker slowly and Jester readied herself, as the dogs began to growl. The floor board below her creaked loudly but she ignored it as she continued to watch through the gap in the floor.

"Where's the detonator?" Batman demanded and Joker snarled silently.

"Go Get Him!" he said and the three dogs launched themselves at the Bat.

There was a very loud crack and suddenly Jester was falling through the middle of the building. The floorboard had collapsed under her and she was now falling down the unfinished elevator shaft that ran the entire height of the building. Desperately she grabbed onto the first thing she could find, a rope that was hanging down the center of the shaft. The enormous steel girder that rope was attached to moaned at her sudden weight but held firm. The wind was knocked out of her at the sudden stop she panted as she tried desperately to climb back up the rope, her arms were burning. Joker might need her.

She stared as the three dogs flew past her and down into the darkness below, having been pushed from the floor above. She managed to throw her leg out as she began to slip down the rope, stopping herself on a board that was overhanging an edge. Quickly she moved her footing and pulled herself free of the pole and onto solid ground, her chainsaw slipped from her hip and she cursed as she heard it clang against the metal framework on its descent.

She was two floors below Jack now and badly beaten. She needed to get back up there and fast. She was pretty sure her ankle and ribs were broken but she cared little for the pain. She pulled her gun from her pocket and loaded it. Before she ran off through the building towards the stairs. The pain of her battered body far from her mind. She weaved her way through a few cops before one tried to stop her, she sidestepped him quickly.

"It's okay Miss, we know you are a hostage, we are here to save you," called the officer and she looked at him strangely. They must have worked out that the hostages were the clowns and now he thought she must be one.

She couldn't help the laugh that exploded from her and the officer stared at her strangely as she bent over in hysteria. Before her laughing stopped abruptly and she raised the gun and shot him in the eye. His face exploded, and she was moving again before his body hit the floor.

She kept herself low as she moved quickly through the chaos around her. She reached the stairwell and began her ascent but was soon blocked off by a large pile of bricks and other building materials. Swearing she pushed herself through a gap and onto the floor below, now even further away from Jack than before. She heard a noise behind her and turned quickly and shot the officer in the face before turning back. She hurried around looking for anything to help her get up to him. There was nothing and she made her way to the open window. She peered out, hanging over the violent drop.

She turned her head peering up to where she knew he would be. She could see him a few floor ups standing above the Bat. The Bat was on the floor, a pole over his throat as Joker spoke to him with words she could not hear.

She looked up and down the window wondering if she had the ability to scale the building to get to him. She had the strength that was for sure, it was strange what love could do but right now she felt she would do anything to get to him.

She looked back out to the water but both ferries were still intact, the wind was whipping around her face so she could hear nothing. She turned back to Joker who had pulled the detonator from his inside pocket as he held the bar down over Batman's throat with his arms. He said something to the Bat but then Jester's world fell apart. The Bat had grabbed Joker and thrown him from the building.

"NO!" Jester screamed as she watched him fall past her, laughing like the madman he was.

"NO!" she screamed again, her eyes filled with tears. Part of her felt the urge to dive after him but then her heart filled with rage, she would kill the Bat because he killed her Joker.

Joker’s descent came to a sudden stop. Jester looked up to see the Bat begin to pull the line that had saved the Joker's life. She shook the tears from her eye and looked on in disbelief, why would he save the Joker.

Slowly he pulled the Joker back up to his level. Jack winked at her as he passed by on his jerky ascent and she smiled warily. She heard Joker grunt as the Bat secured the line and stood to look at the upside down, grinning face of the Joker.

She strained her hearing but she could barely make out what Joker was saying over the wind that was wiping through her hair.

"This is what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object" Joker's voice drifted through the wind to her and she felt her fears loosen their grip somewhat, he wasn't dead. The wind was loud and she only caught small amounts of his words, playing like a broken CD on the wind.

"Until they get a good look at the real Harvey Dent and all the heroic things he's done" his words were louder now and she watched as he swayed somewhat in his suspended spot. His ankle was probably broken from the sudden stop when the Bat had caught him but he didn't seem to notice the pain or even care.

"You didn't think I'd risk losing the battle for Gotham's soul in a fistfight with you?" Joker asked loudly and Jester grinned, he had never told her his full plan but she had theorised along the way. The wind picked up again and she lost their conversation again.

"I took Gotham's white knight and I brought him down to our level. It wasn't hard. See, madness, as you know is like gravity. All it takes is a little push" she made out his voice again, though by now she was sure she could make out his voice in a crowd of shouting people. She watched as he swung himself backwards and laughed loudly. The Bat was on the move and within seconds a swat team had taken his place their guns trained on Joker.

Jester turned quickly to find her way to Joker, but came face to face with the barrel of a gun.

"Drop your weapon!" shouted the officer and she laughed.

"I said drop it!" he shouted at her again and for a split second she contemplated fighting it, but she would definitely be dead before anyone else and she wanted to see Joker again. So reluctantly she dropped her gun and raised her hands above her head. She didn't hear their words as they cuffed her and read her rights. They led her down and out of the building. The bodies of the goons filled the floor and she doubted if many had survived but she didn't care either way. She laughed as the officer restraining her shoved her into a caged van. He pushed her into a cell within the van and shut the door with a resounding bang.

Jester sighed as she stared around at the tiny cell she was locked in, it was no bigger than a toilet cubicle. She listened as the van door was opened again and she heard a familiar giggle, the cubicle next to hers was opened and shut behind someone.

"Is that you gorgeous?" asked his muffled voice through the wall.

"Sure is sexy" she replied happily. The relief of hearing his voice again was truly bliss.

-------------------------------

Thanks for reading. Sorry this part took so long. Please like and reblog.

6 notes · View notes

impartofthesolution · 4 years

Text

Carnival Chaos

The Lights. The Sounds. The aroma. The carnival was back in town, held once again at the local Catholic church. It was the closest most attendees came to a church all year. This was certainly true for Rachel, Zach, Evan, and Kris. Every summer, the friends had made a tradition to visit the carnival. Even though they were in high school, and had to pay for the overpriced event out of their own pockets, they still made a point of showing up. “I take it we’ll do the usual?” asked Kris. “What do you think?” chuckled Evan good-naturedly. “Of course.” He paused, so the other three came to a stop, too. “Rachel gets the funnel cake. Zach gets the cotton candy. Kris and I save a spot in line for the Zipper. If any kids complain, I’ll be sure to flourish my studded accessories. If any adults complain, that’s why I’ve got Kris to sweet talk them down.” “You’re something else.” “You’re crazy.” “Please don’t hurt any kids.” were the responses Evan received. He smirked, taking each as a compliment. They probably were compliments, as Rachel and Zach were laughing, walking away to their respective booths. The Zipper line was long and slow-moving, as always. It wasn’t even that fun. They just made a point of going on it whenever it was operational because it spent so much time being broken down. They hadn’t even made it a third through the line by the time Rachel and Zach returned. It was all the better, since they couldn’t really bring food onto the ride. It seemed like they had trained their whole lives for moments like this, whipping around at high speeds directly after eating something. It wasn’t a commonly used skill, but it came in handy. There was some entertainment in line. There was the usual over-under on how many times the ride would be stopped to clean up barf. There were stilt-walkers, fire jugglers, and clowns walking around. It seemed to be an equal-opportunity clown employer kind of carnival. There were tall clowns, short clowns, fat clowns, thin clowns wearing the fat clowns’ pants, male clowns, female clowns, sad clowns, clowns with dark face paint. There was even a clown with a hunchback. “Hey, did you see that guy?” asked Zach, pointing at the deformed clown. “Yeah,” replied Kris, watching the clown warily. “He’s kind of frightening. It’s not right for the carnival.” “Ahh, don’t worry. I’m sure people are enjoying him. I know I am,” said Evan. “But that’s my point,” continued Kris. “Watch him. And watch the kids. No one is smiling or laughing. I’m all for equal opportunity, but maybe this is too much.” “Or maybe he just sucks at his job,” Rachel chimed in. Zach snickered. The hunchback clown walked around the corner, and then the skinny clown with a hula hoop attached to suspenders holding up a size 60 pair of pants jostled his way towards them. One of the kids further back in line threw a wad a trash into the pants of the clown, and he was rewarded with a quick slap on the wrist by his mother and a dozen dirty glares from people around him. The clown might have been mad, but his make-up made him look constantly quizzical. At least, he tried to play it off funny, and people sure seemed to enjoy him better than the ugly clown. After they finished the Zipper ride (Rachel was the closest guess for how many times the ride had stopped to be cleaned before they got their turn. It was 3), they went over to the Gravitron. This was the tried and true favorite. Every year, it was the same operator. He was a stickler to the rules right up until when he didn’t have to be, somewhere around 60% through the ride. For the first portion, everyone had to follow the rules to stay upright. But once the ride was at full speed, it became impractical for him to stop it early, so he turned a blind eye to any shenanigans he didn’t witness. This year, Zach claimed that he would try to sit upright so that his torso would be parallel to the floor. He hadn’t stopped reminding his friends how many sit-ups he’d been doing to practice. The Gravitron was an altogether logistically better ride than the Zipper. The line moved quickly, and within 10 minutes, they were at the door, ready for their turn next. As the Gravitron slowed down, Evan heard a bit of commotion coming from the Zipper. He stood up on his toes to get a better look. “Hey guys, look. It looks like we made it to the Zipper just in time.” Grumbling disapproval and disappointment reached the ears of Evan’s friends. They craned their necks to get a better view. “Look there,” Zach said, pointed. Rachel was too short to see what he pointed at, but she gasped when she saw some black smoke rising up above the crowd. “Oh my, I wonder what happened.” “Next in line, please,” came the voice of the operator. He looked up, saw the smoke, and ignored it. “Not my job,” he said to himself as he allowed his favorite riders aboard. Stickler for the rules was he, but he knew how to have a good time, too. By the time the ride disembarked, the Zipper was engulfed in flames. “Oh. My. Word,” stammered Kris. Her dizzy friends bumped into her exiting the ride. Rachel and Zach gasped in unison. The flames were bright yellow, and the smoke was pitch black. “I hope no one was injured.” “Uh oh, by the looks of it, I’m afraid not,” Evan spoke up, willing to deliver the hard news. “It looks like some people are crying over there, making a commotion to some operators. There must have been people on there.” “No,” whispered Kris, under her breath. “Maybe we should leave.” “Why? We’ve just got the house of mirrors left. You love that,” responded Evan. “But there are people hurt.” “It’s just the Zipper. It breaks down all the time. I’m sure no one is seriously hurt,” countered Evan. “There’s no reason why we should suspect anything else. I bet the line for the house of mirrors is shorter.” “Dude, you’re cold,” teased Zach. Evan shrugged. “It’s true.” Shaken, but otherwise not too worried, the friends found the house of mirrors in the back of the carnival. Indeed, it had no line. Parents were taking their children and leaving. There wasn’t even anyone collecting money at the entrance. That was a bigger invitation to enter than the large sign instructing them to enter at the door. Few things changed about the carnival over the years, but somehow, the house of mirrors was different every year. The friends split up along different paths at the entrance and somehow, kept seeing distorted reflections of each other and themselves. It seemed the entire creative budget of the carnival went into the house of mirrors. A clown with a hunchback passed one of the mirrors in Rachel’s path, making her gasp. “Did you guys see that creepy clown in here?” she called out. “No, why, did you?” responded Kris, soundly slightly concerned by the prospect of being in the mirror maze with a strange clown. Just then, a handful of mirrors illuminated in a bright yellow light that faded an instant later. They all noticed it. “What was that?” asked Zach. It was effectively a rhetorical question, because no one had the answer. They reached a convergence point all at the same time. Standing right in front of them down the path was the hunchbacked clown. “Uh, please tell me that’s a mirror reflecting from somewhere else,” Evan tried to grasp at hope. A trickle of flame escaped the clown’s sleeve. His make-up looked grotesque in the firelight. He was definitely not a hired clown. He raised his arms at the teens, and they scattered, scrambling back the paths they came, needing no invitation. Bright light filled the entire house, blinding the friends as they crashed into mirrors trying to find their way back. The canvas tent roof quickly ignited and the sound of breaking glass rose a din to drown out the reckless escape. The light die enough that Zach could blink a few times to restore his vision. He thought he could find his way out, but standing in front of him was a firefighter… in grotesque make-up. Instead of a firehose, he had a flamethrower. Zach breathed a sigh of relief, realizing it was just a reflection. The creep was somewhere behind him. Zach collided with Rachel at the entrance to the house. A few seconds later, Evan and Kris stumbled into them. They broke into a run to escape the tent. The entire roof was engulfed in flames. They paused 40 yards away to catch their breaths and collect their sanity. They watched as a firefighter emerged from the flames. Some people had rushed to the tent at the start of the fire in hopes of saving the tent. When they saw the firefighter, they rushed over to get his help. As they did, he rose his flamethrower and incinerated them. Kris screamed, watching the writhing bodies of those men drop to the ground and start rolling like their lives depended on it. “Come on, we have to go,” called Evan, gathering his friends’ attention and taking Rachel’s and Kris’ hands. They had to flee the crowds also seeking to evacuate. Once in the thick of the crowd, their progress was effectively halted. Then, more screams rose above the collective clamor, followed by a wave of intense heat and the disgusting smell of charred flesh. A huge pocket of people off on the south side had just gone up in flames. “There’s no way it could be the same guy,” said Zach. But things were just weird enough it could have been the same creepy clown/fireman. “We’ve got to get out of here,” the panic in Rachel’s voice clear. Evan understood her, and he shoved his forearms into the backs of the people in front of him, spiked bracelets out. The people in front were too panicked to even turn and yell at him. The crowds were too dense to budge. “I can’t get through.” “What if we hide there?” suggested Kris, pointing at one of the games tents. “Are you ridiculous?” challenged Zach. “It’s made of canvas. It’ll go up for sure.” “But that one is the water gun game. It’s got water,” she insisted. “I mean, it’s all we got.” Unable to argue, the friends made the difficult, but not impossible lateral move to the game tent. The last few feet were tough as another burst of fire immolated a second group of people, and everyone else shoved as far away from the flames as possible. The friends jumped over the table and ducked behind the walls. More fires, more screams. The sky above them was pitch dark, as if all the cinders had fallen up and stuck to the clouds. They were lit by the orange glows of the tent fires and the flashes of yellow from the flamethrowers. It was a massacre; people dropped like flies. The stench and heat wasn’t quite so bad down low behind the barriers. Rachel dared to peek up over the low wall and saw the firefighter in the grotesque make-up standing 15 feet away. “We need to shoot him,” she frantically whispered to her friends. “If we can hope to extinguish his pilot light, he won’t be able to incinerate us.” She sounded so sure of herself. “But how…” “Just man a gun and shoot at his flamethrower, on my mark.” They scrambled into position. “Mark!” They popped up and viciously shot their little water pistols at the fireman. To their surprise, unlike Rachel’s plan, the fireman started hissing and steaming. He began to evaporate before their very eyes. He, his awful face, and the flamethrower vanished in a matter of seconds. Back to Table of Contents (x)

#Horror Vignettes #October2020 #What if Fahrenheit 451 and Something Wicked This Way Comes had a baby?#creepyclowns #Why is the Zipper always broken?#Free the Gravitron

0 notes

himbowelsh · 7 years

Note

LuzToye/Webgott: Luz/Lieb is a waiter in the restaurant near campus that's know as slightly more fancy date spot. Web/Joe brings his dates there. He's giving that whole dating thing a go. No better time than in college. His cheeky waiter rates his dates and is not at all quiet about it. He doesn't know why he keeps coming back. Until his waiter helps him get rid of some creep that seemed normal and then brings him piece of delicious chocolate cake on the house.

"And so then the files came through, and it was obvious that there was a discrepancy because the two budgets weren't adding up. So I took a look at the Liabilities account, and wouldn’t you know it, there's the error in black and white! So of course I go to my boss and say, 'these totals aren't adding up.' And he says to me..."

Joe's really beginning to wonder if romance is dead.Maybe it's his own fault. Maybe he just has awful taste in guys; or maybe he never should have called off a two year relationship just because he felt like the spark that was once there had died.

(That, technically, isn't his fault. Serving two tours overseas and losing your leg in the process can change anyone's outlook on life. When Joe came back, he wasn't the same man anymore, and not the person his boyfriend fell in love with. Ending the relationship hurt, but... he can't blame himself for it.)

Whether he's ready to start dating again or not isn't the question. He knows he's ready.He just doesn't know why he keeps finding himself on the worst dates.First it had been the guy with the missing teeth. That was bad enough. Then the guy with a face tattoo, an ugly one. There was the police officer, who felt the need to remind Joe of that fact every two seconds. There was the guy who moonlit as a clown.Finally, his latest date -- a financial advisor with a very bad toupee, who seems to think accounting is the most riveting job in the world.In desperation, Joe finds his gaze wandering. How long will it take for their food to get here? Have they even ordered yet? He can't remember. He finds his eyes roving the restaurant, seeking out the familiar face of their waiter, but for a moment too long it seems that he's nowhere to be found.Then Joe catches sight of him -- leaning against the cash register, relaxation dripping from his entire body. Watching him.Their gazes meet, and he sees the waiter smirk. Unsure of what's going through his head, but having a good idea, Joe narrows his eyes and turns away. It figures that he would get the same waiter tonight as he has on every other failed date he's brought to this restaurant. There's no doubt the guy thinks he's some sort of lonely, desperate guy. (That's really the only justification for the face tattoo dude.)He doesn't realize his date has ended his story -- because, if he's being honest, he hadn't been paying attention at all -- until he's startled by the clink of a water glass on the table."Okay," his date announces, rising to his feet. "I'm going to go take a tinkle, and then we can order."Joe stares at his back in disbelief as he walks away. Take a tinkle? He presses a hand to his temple. God, he really is desperate.A sudden movement from just next to him pulls his attention up again, though at the moment all he really wants to do is crawl into a hole and not come out for a while. He's dismayed -- though completely unsurprised -- to find his waiter approaching his table, pitcher in hand. He doesn't have to wonder what he's thinking; the dagger-sharp smirk on his face says it all. Joe doesn't say a word until he reaches the table and offers Joe a half-quirk of an eyebrow, like he's judging all his life choices."Okay," Snarky Waiter -- whose name tag reads Luz -- declares, refilling the two half-full water glasses on the table. "I refuse to believe that he's the best you can do."Joe glowers at him."What? I'm just telling the truth! Did you see his hair? Who knows what he's got up there! Try shaking him, maybe a dead rat'll fall out."He doesn't mean to, god help him, but he snorts. He knows he's lost as soon as victory flashes through the awful waiter's eyes. "If I were you, I'd swipe left," Luz advises, solemnity dripping from every word. There's mirth in the quirk of his lips, though, and as much as Joe hates him for it, he can't help but wish he were having dinner with this man instead. At least he knows how to make him laugh. He's not bad looking, either. He's got a clean-shaven face, matched with amiable features. Even though his hair is scruffy, he at least looks like he's met a hairbrush once in his life. (That's more than Joe can say for his current beau.) The idea of the smart-mouthed waiter sitting across from him instead seems more and more appealing the longer Joe stares at him."Thanks for the advice," he says instead, and takes a drink of his beer. Luz holds his gaze for a split second longer before shrugging and heading back to the kitchen. Joe tries to pretend he doesn't watch him go.It's not long before his date comes back. Joe asks for the check three minutes later.

"Hmm," remarks Luz after Joe's latest date -- an animal rights activist who was horrified when Joe ordered salmon -- storms out. "I'd give that one six out of ten. He lasted longer than the car salesman."Joe shoots him a harsh look. Though he's used to Luz not knowing how to mind his own business, that doesn't mean it doesn't get on his nerves. "Thanks for the input," he grinds out, trying to smother his stinging pride. He hopes he isn't blushing, though the heat in his cheeks might tell a different story. How many disastrous dates has this guy seen him on?"Hey -- you live and learn." Luz’s hip bumps against the table. He shoots Joe a wink that has his pulse leaping. "You'll work it out next time."Joe wishes he had half of Luz’s confidence, but every failed date is leaving him less determined to try. Maybe this whole dating thing just isn’t worth it.

One more, he tells himself. One more date, and then he'll give up for good.

(Spending his life single might not be so bad. His uncle never married, after all. Old Uncle Henry, with his metal hip and missing eye, hasn't been seen by the family in years -- but assuming he's not dead, he's probably off somewhere living a happy, single life. Joe could be like Uncle Henry.)Just one more shot, he tells himself, and sets up another date that Friday.Same restaurant, same place -- and, of course, the same waiter. When Luz finds Joe sitting alone at the table, he just raises his eyebrows."Aww, no date tonight? Don't tell me you struck out.""I'm waiting on someone," Joe replies, not quite willing to meet the other man’s eyes. He mutters a thanks for his glass of water as it's filled, and purposely doesn't look up as Luz leans over the table to "adjust" the salt and pepper shakers."You know," he mutters, and if Joe weren't close enough to see his lips moving he's not sure he'd believe he was saying anything at all, "if you ever get tired of blind dates, there are other options."Joe purses his lips, not sure when his mouth got so dry. "Like what?"Luz’s eyes flicker over to him. They're dark brown, flecked with auburn and gold. Something in them is playful and serious at the same time, a hypnotizing cocktail Joe never even imagined existed.

"Think about it," he says. "I'm sure you'll figure it out."Just like that, he's gone, leaving Joe staring after him in a daze. Thankfully, he isn't left with much time to think about it. His date shows up, and a new set of problems make themselves apparent.Namely: this guy is a creep."You know, I've never dated a man before," the stereotypical gym rat across from him remarks, leaning both elbows on the table. Joe likes his work outs too, but it seems like it's more of a lifestyle for his guy. The bulging muscles say one thing, but the fact that he shows up to a date wearing a shirt emblazoned with his gym's logo says something else. (No, he's not a personal trainer. That was the first thing Joe asked. He's a desk clerk.)That doesn't make for a pleasant date, but it's not unpleasant; it's something Joe could make the best of. The real problem is the way this guy keeps eyeing him, like he's a steak on a plate, just waiting to be devoured. There's something hungry in his eyes, dominant and almost mocking, that makes Joe's hackles raise. He doesn't like being looked at like that. Very few people have dared look at him that way in his life, and if he has to show this guy just who the hell he is, he will. No one stares at him like he's some type of property."Yeah, well," Joe says, back stiff against the booth seat. "I can't say the same.""So you've been doing this a while? The whole sex with men thing?"If Joe had been drinking in that moment, he would have choked. "Huh?""You know. You've done this before. How many times?""Umm..." Why does he feel like he's being scrutinized? "I've had a few boyfriends. I just got out of a serious relationship...""Was that because of the leg thing?"Joe's eyes widen as he sees the man across from him lean forward. At the same time, a hand closes around the top of his knee, just where his prosthetic is attached to his leg. The guy's gaze is dark, narrowed with something that curdles Joe's stomach. "You know, I've always found amputees hot --"Joe doesn't see what happens next. He doesn't see him coming, doesn't get the chance to anticipate anything but getting this creep away from him. The next thing he knows, however, his date is reeling backwards as a waterfall of hot coffee spills down the back of his shirt."Ahh, geez!" Luz exclaims. "Sorry, man. My bad. Wasn't looking where I was going.""You sure as hell weren't!" The creep springs to his feet, jumping around as scalding liquid burns his back, and rounds on the waiter. "What are you doing?""Just my job," the waiter replies, holding up a hand. "Like I said, sorry."Joe knows he doesn't imagine it when Luz catches his eye and winks.The creep doesn't stick around after that. He has to change his shirt, he says; he's probably got third degree burns, thanks to the stupid waiter; he’s going to sue. He’ll go home. They'll do this another night. Joe nods, waving him off, and as soon as he's gone breathes a sigh of relief.

He's almost finished with his beer (which he sure as hell needed) when a body slides into the booth across from him. For one awful moment he's convinced his date is back. Then a plate is slid across the table towards him, bearing a succulent slice of chocolate cake, and he feels his anxieties melt away like snow in the summer. He looks up to be greeted by a familiar face.It takes him a few seconds to collect himself in the face of Luz’s smirk. His dignity had already deserted him tonight; but he does his best. "Thanks," he says, clearing his throat. He studies the chocolate cake for a moment before lifting his fork and taking a bite. It's the sweetest thing he's tasted in a long time. He chews and swallows before offering Luz a small nod. "You know, I could have handled that guy.""Yeah, but I wanted the satisfaction. You don't mind tossing me a bone, do you?"Joe's lips twitch. "Have the whole steak. That guy was a creep.""No kidding." A few seconds pass in silence before Luz exhales, running a hand through his ruffled bangs. "So, are you finally throwing in the towel on the dating scene?""I dunno," Joe replies, shrugging. "Doesn't seem like there's much in it for me.""Nah, don't think like that. Take a chance." Luz rolls his shoulders, an easy, deceptively casual gesture. "Like I said. There are better ways to do it. Who knows, you could be surprised."

"Yeah," Joe agrees, nodding slowly. He can't tear his eyes away from Luz’s own. Their gazes bore into each other, electric, paralyzingly. "You might be right."After a long moment, Luz breaks into a smile. Joe finds himself grinning right back."I've just got one condition," Luz announces, leaning in. Joe finds himself doing so too, subconsciously mirroring his movements. When he raises his eyebrows, Luz lets out a chuckle."For our first date, can we please go anywhere but here?”Joe realizes he's grinning like an idiot in spite of himself. There's something that's never happened on a single date. This can only be a good omen. "How do you feel about laser-tag?"Maybe, Joe muses, it's a bit too early to resign himself to a life of solitude. He might not have seen him coming, but there's a chance this charming waiter could be just what he needs.

#my writing #luztoye #george luz #joe toye #band of brothers #Anonymous

32 notes · View notes