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tmisaccidentreportbook · 1 year

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MAG016, Arachnophobia

Case #0150409, Carlos Vittery Release date: May 2, 2016 First listen: 15th October. On the morning feed route still, was round on the loop way at this stage, with the white head ducks.

I think, once upon a time, I was scared of spiders. At a level I think most folks are, feed by all the child friendly spooky stories and the fact that they as such alien little beings. But I’ve worked the vast majority of my career life outside and when I’m not outside, I’m in sheds or outbuildings or barns or store rooms or stables. Spiders get everywhere and I can’t blame the funky little guys. I’m grateful for the service they provide in pest management and appreciate it when they stay in my line of sight and keep moving all steady and sedate like. But even when they scuttle off at a rate of knots, I’ve gotten over it. But The Web still fucks me up, it’s just that it’s not the spiders. It fucks me up in a very similar way that The Lonely does to be fair.

But this guy, this guy’s got a fear that feels like we’re veering into ‘impacting quality of life’ territory. I don’t really like how a fear of spiders is often played for cheap laughs or is used to make the frightened character seem foolish and weak, Ron Weasley in Harry Potter is one that’s coming to mind and it was even worse in the movies. But to be honest, Ron’s portrayal in the movies was a total character assassination.

But, having been overexposed to creepy crawlies for a long time, and often having to be ‘the brave one’ in a situation involving them, I’ll confess to having a hard time connecting with Mr Vittery’s plight with this aspect of The Web.

- ‘It’s not the sight of a spider that gets me … It’s the presence of a spider.’ I can sort of understand that weird little nuance to a fear. I’ve got one when it comes to taxidermy. I’ve got several pieces of taxidermy, a favourite being a female barn owl that I actually picked up off the road on. Anyway, taxidermy and preserved skeletons, I have no issues with. You start putting multiple specimens in one big case, I’ll get a little twitchy. You put anything from aquatic mega fauna in there and I am averting my eyes and walking the long way around, fuck that noise.

- I have to say, moving from your house to a flat in London to avoid spiders… It’s a lot of effort, so that should give an indication of how serious this guy is. As someone who’s moved house in the recent past, it’s gonna have to be a bloody big spider to convince me I need to move again.

- ‘…spun their filth just a wall away?’ … bit strong mate. Bit strong. Spider webs have been used for wound dressings since the first century C.E. Ever gets mentioned in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, as Bottom says when introduced to the fairy Cobweb, ‘If I cut my finger, I shall make bold of you.’ Studies are still being done to examine the extent of the antifungal and antimicrobial properties of spider silk, as well as their viability as vitamin K rich coagulating agents.

- ‘I could not unknow how many were there.’ Well, if The Eye was going to get picky about it, you don’t really know how many were there, you just surmised it was ‘a lot’.

- ‘Renting in London moves very quickly.’ I hear this and I can hear the pain and struggle of every member of Rusty Quill. I also can’t help but think of poor Alex and the saga of the asbestos flat and the amount of stress that piled onto his life. I’m trying to work out the timeline of when that was all happening but short of listening to the start of every episode of Rusty Quill Gaming until I hit the one with the announcement, I’m coming blank.

- Archway, isn’t that where Harriet of MAG006 Squirm lived? And where she was attacked by Jane Prentiss?

- Ah, the introduction of Major Tom. A military man I see, and Jonny persists with his excellent naming convention of cats; ranks, appellations and puns. I’m not personally a cat person, prefer dogs, but I can appreciate.

- ‘This is all a lot of superfluous information-’ No information pertaining to cats is superfluous.

- We get the time frame of Mr Vittery seeing the spider ‘about three months ago’ from the date of the statement, given 9th April 2015. So The Web starts getting bold here at the very start of 2015. If my numbers are correct, and Gertrude was killed around 22nd March 2015, this statement either came in between archivists, or came in very early in the Archivist’s tenure.

- ‘(The) building had acquired something of an infestation (of worms)’ Prentiss! *shakes fist* Actually, if there’d been a few spiders ‘that month’, Prentiss could have been lying in wait for over a year… Harriet was attack around 17th November 2014 and Prentiss lay siege to Martin’s flat from the end of February 2016. What had she been doing in the meantime, besides grossing up the basement of the building Mr Vittery was renting in?

- Also, I this a The Web vs The Corruption smack down or a team up? Their methods overlap a little and the ‘love and looking for love’ aspects of The Corruption could be as compelling to someone’s actions as the machinations of The Web. But I don’t think I could imagine Annabelle Cane baring to be in the presence of Jane Prentiss for it long enough to work, The Flesh Hive just doesn’t have any style.

- ‘...but I would have sworn that this one hated me back.’ Well, to be fair. you have been being very rude about spiders.

- I love the fact that Major Tom ‘didn’t seem hurt or upset’ by the manifestation of The Web. I mean, cats are old gods too in their own right. They’ve been manipulating humanity for millennia in ways The Web can only admire.

- I know green is more the colour palette of the Magnus Institute, but I liked the nod to the Institute’s emblem. Actually, speaking of colour palettes, I remember there was a bit of a joke going around Tumblr about being able to tell which podcast’s fanart you were looking at by the colour of the disembodied eyes present.

Green – The Magnus Archives

Purple – Welcome To Night Vale

White – The Adventure Zone: Balance Arc

- ‘I used to work-’, wait. Has all this made you quit work?

- The presence of the spider feels very ‘Terminator’, to me. Keeps coming back, very persistent.

- ‘...it felt almost involuntary, as though some something were lifting me, hoisting me ... by unseen strings.’ OK, this is the part of The Web that fucks me up. The whole ‘Mother Of Puppets’ schtick, the robbing of autonomy, the manipulation of decisions and choice. I’ve just been casually gaslit too much in my life to not have it make my teeth grind.

- Major Tom peacing on out with only a parting look ‘of pity’. The animals know man. They know.

- ‘Sometimes there would be horses.’ New forest ponies?!

- Ooof that childhood trauma. I think I’m lucky, I don’t have a stand out event that I can point to and say ‘that, that scarred me’. I think mine was a more ‘background radiation’ type of thing that’s led to today’s levels of fucked up.

- ‘Can you be haunted by the ghost of a spider that destroyed your childhood?’ *thinks about a guest for spider and sweats*.

- Is this the first confirmed death of a statement giver we get? We assume Lee Rentoul of MAG014 goes to pieces even if we never his death confirmed and whatever happened to the sister of the statement giver of MAG015, she doesn’t appear to be above ground. Is this the first confirmed death we get?

Supplemental: How could I forget Trevor Herbert of MAG010, our first ‘confirmed’ death, and he ‘passed away’ right there in the Institute building. Why yes, I am put quote marks around all that, why do you ask?

- ‘...his body was completely encased in web.’ I’m sure that happened in the Doctor Who episode Arachnids in the UK, sure it’s fine. If it happened in Sheffield, it can happen in London. Just need to play Stormzy at them.

#the magnus archives #MAG016 #The Web

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rohirric-hunter · 3 years

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So I didn’t post about it when it happened, but I did mark that after Morannon Radanir commented that he was considering going to Forochel with Lothrandir, which insinuates that not only did Lothrandir survive but that he’s going to get home, and maybe have a nice calm afternoon with no pain and suffering for once, and it’s a party up in here.

#lotro #although i must say #the fact that the game appears to be giving a RANGER a happy ending #feels like a trap #still the end is in sight #jurys still out on most of the rest of them #since like #the only one ive been able to talk to so far is radanir #but i suspect ill encounter a few in the mordor questline and ive heard theyre involved in the wedding questline a bit #actually i think ive gone far enough that i can play the wedding questline without spoilers now #although #i think i shall put it off until midsummer

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mirkwoodshewolf · 2 years

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TCATC Chap. 9; The White Council Meeting

*Author’s note*

Alrighty folks, here is where the true revelation of Hela’s true love is shown in this chapter. Now he won’t make his true appearance until after the events of the 3 hobbit films, thought I should let you all know that this is a love story but it is not with any of the Hobbit characters. Also a bit more bonding time with the Dwarves which is what Hela is in dire need of, especially without being in a family for so long. For now until we meet HIM, enjoy these next few chapters :)

NEXT CHAPTER HERE

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@queensdivas

@queen-paladin

@peter-parkers-cullen-nerd

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

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The next morning I was walking along Rivendell just taking in the sights this glorious morning. I will say no matter what the season, Imladris is always most beautiful when the sun rises in the East and when it sets in the West.

I stood along a balcony and watched as the sun rose higher into the sky.

“Not with your new companions?” I turned and saw Lord Elrond standing beside me, his hands resting alone the marble railing.

“I know I shall be missed by them.”

“Some more than others.” He lightly teased. I smiled thinking to Fili and Kili.

“In so many ways it’s like—I’m back with Makkari and Druig. They remind me so much of them. The three of us would get into so much trouble. But we were always there to get each other out of trouble again.”

“It would seem that Gandalf was right to allow you into this company.”

“How so?” I asked him.

“You’ve always carried a heavy weight upon your heart. No matter how many other races you’ve helped, no matter what good you’ve done, no matter how many of your family’s Celestial gems you’ve collected. You always kept this burden of blaming yourself for what happened, that you should have perished alongside what was left of your kin. Or that someone else should’ve been chosen to carry on their life whilst you be nothing but Shadow and Stone.”

I felt his hand rest on my shoulder. I looked up at him and he raised that hand up to tuck the white streak on the left side of my face behind my ear.

“But that is not the Celestial I see before me now. You’ve opened up that wound and flushed it out. Though not all of it, a weight has most definitely lifted not only off your shoulders, but from your heart as well.” The corner of my mouth slightly lifted up in a slight smile.

“I’ve always lived by the Celestial code. To put the lives of others over my own sorrows.” I spoke in Elvish.

“But who’s to say you could not also take the time to mourn your own losses? Even Ajak could not keep such a burden inside of her. She would not have wanted you to bury your own sorrow above everyone else’s.” Lord Elrond spoke back in Elvish to me.

“Would she be disappointed in me?”

“She could never be disappointed in you.” I felt his lips come down onto my forehead as he gave me a comforting kiss before saying one last time in Common tongue as he left the room. “As I’ve informed the Halfling, you are more than welcome to stay here if that is what you wish.”

I watched as the Elven Lord left and I looked back out towards the sun. Feeling the warm rays hit across my face as I took in the air around me and took Elrond’s words to heart.

Later that afternoon after lunch I was told by Bilbo that something was wrong with Oin and that he needed help. Concerned for the eldest dwarf in the company (and being the only other healer next to him), I raced alongside Bilbo to the training grounds.

There I got the surprise of my life. A feast (much like how it was in Bag-End) was displayed before me. Torches and firepits were lit up and the dwarves all stood side by side of each other with either smiles or soft eyes.

“What’s all this?”

“What’s it look like? It’s a Midsummer’s Eve Celestial feast!” Kili exclaimed.

“Or as close as we could make it.” Fili corrected his brother.

“Yah see Hela; we wanted to show you that while you’re in this company you’re not just our guide, nor just a powerful Celestial. But also one of us. We dwarves look out for our family, we take care of one another. And we wish to extend that familial hand to you.” Balin said to me.

“We managed to find the secret storage unit that these pointy-eared trees had in order to bring out the meat and wine. Wasn’t hard to break in thanks to yours truly.” Nori said with a grand bow.

“You really should be careful who you steal from Nori.” I advised.

“I’ve been telling him that for years my lady Hela. Steal from the wrong man and he’ll have his head on a pike.” Dori said as he glared at his little brother.

“Ahh bugger off yah old soot!” Dori went to argue but Bofur jumped in and said.

“We just wish to thank you for all that you’ve done for us. And allow you to maybe share with us your Celestial customs and traditions.”

“You all really didn’t need to do this.”

“We know. But we wanted to.” Ori said with a kind smile. I looked to all the dwarves and I thanked them all.

“Alright now let’s dig in to some real food.” Bomber exclaimed happily. We all sat down and the dwarves finally got to enjoy the taste of meat again as they also bashed on the Elves love for greens. I could correct them and say Elves do have a liking for meat as well for they too also hunt deer, boars, and fish it’s just they don’t always eat it like dwarves do. They only eat meat for special events or if they’re out traveling.

“So tell us Hela, what other traditions do the Celestials do on Midsummer’s Eve?” asked Bofur.

“Well, on the second day after the stories get told on the first day, the Strongholds and War Celestials would have a sparring match.”

“Now that’s a tradition I could get behind.” Dwalin said with a grin.

“I’m sure you would Dwalin. My sister Thena and brother Gilgamesh were the strongest fighters out of any of my siblings. And seeing them spar off one another was like watching a dance between two partners.”

“Who was the victor in their matches?” he asked me.

“Well Gilgamesh likes to claim he had more wins than Thena but in truth she had more wins. My brother Ikaris told me so himself for he kept count behind Gil’s back.” They all laughed. “In fact, with your permission Thorin I would be honored if your strongest fighters took part in the Celestial Sparring Match.” Thorin took a sip of his wine and said.

“Very well, as per your traditions I offer you my strongest and most trusted fighters; Fili, Kili, and Dwalin.”

“Excellent. I must also ask that I spar you last. Since you are the leader of this company it is tradition that the leader of the challengers also fights in the match. However they must have the honor of going last.”

“As you wish.” The rest of the dwarves cleared off the table setting and we all got ready for the Celestial sparring match. I shifted my armor into Thena’s armor and took hold of Aeglos. After using him in battle and getting the feel of this long spear, I feel like now I’ve become synced with him and that he has allowed me to become his new bearer.

First up, or well I should say the first two up were Fili and Kili. From what I saw in the battle of the trolls, they work really well together both with sword and bow. Sometimes Fili would provide the distraction allowing Kili to knock an arrow to his bow and fire just as quickly as Fili can withdraw his swords and not miss a shot.

The Durin brothers came forth, softly grinning with eyes sparking of mischief.

“Hope you don’t plan on going easy on us Hela.” Fili said as he withdrew one of his many swords from his person.

“Believe me, the last thing I would do for you two is make this easy for you. You both need a little lesson and I’d say a good kick in the arse will be good for yah.”

“Cute. But you won’t be smirking when my brother and I take you down Celestial.” Kili said with a quick but cocky tuck of his chin. I grinned and did a War Celestial’s bow to them. Crossing my arms over my chest in an X shape and they bowed back as we got into fighting position.

“Let the Ritual sparring of the Celestial and Dwarves begin!” Balin proclaimed. With that the sparring match of the Age commenced.

Kili was the first to charge at me with his sword followed by his older brother. Both their swords were blocked by Aeglos’ wooden staff which I enforced his handle with my Celestial magic so that he would not break. I could feel my feet slowly beginning to slide behind me as they used their strength to try and push me off my feet. However I used my own enhanced strength to push them back and I flipped over them before extending Aeglos towards Fili. His blade and mine meeting with a loud clang.

From the corner of my eye I saw Kili ready to knock an arrow into his bow so I quickly pushed Fili with all my strength before turning Aeglos onto Kili’s bow, disarming him of his current weapon. Then with a hard punch to the face he fell to the ground leaving Fili and I left.

Fili charged at me head on but once again I flipped over him and used Aeglos to disarm him before I sweep his legs out from under him and pointed Aeglos’ blade right at his chest. Fili helped Kili onto his feet and they both bowed to me and I bowed back to them.

Next up came Dwalin. Like I’ve mentioned before, this is a dwarf who has breathed and feasted on war. If anything he could have passed off as a War Celestial should he be but a foot taller. He came up to me, shoulders pulled back and his iron axe in hand. The two of us locked eyes with one another.

“I figured this must be an honor for you. Though I may not have originally born a War or Stronghold Celestial, I still have use of their magic.” I said to him.

“Aye, never before did I think I would have the privilege to stand before a Celestial let alone fight against one.”

“Well I promise to make this a fight you’ll remember.”

“As will I.”

I swung Aeglos at Dwalin but he blocked it with his axe. Back and forth did our weapons clash with one another till he got the upper-hand and managed to knock Aeglos out of my hands, before with the handle of his axe hit me across the face. I pressed my hand to my jawline before swiftly fixing it and summoned a Celestial sword in my hand and attacked Dwalin.

Our weapons clashing once again till I managed to disarm him of his axe and held my glowing blade at his throat. Dwalin accepted defeat and went to stand by his brother Balin’s side. Finally it was the Dwarf King’s turn.

Thorin walked up to me his sword in hand as well as his Oaken branch shield. I gripped my Celestial sword and the two of us clashed our swords together.

Every block, swing and thrust was met with a skillful counter of a block and dodge. I thrusted towards Thorin but he managed to counter block my attack sending my blade downward before sending a strike to my gut with his shield. I was forced backward as I held my gut.

“Don’t tell me you’re going soft. I want you to release all your strength on me. Again.” He lectured me. Softly panting I gripped my sword tighter and got my second wind.

Our swords once again clashing with one another before I was able to sweep Thorin’s leg. However he managed to jump over it before overpowering me and Orcrist was pointed at my neck.

“It would seem I’m the victor. Do you yield Celestial?”

“A little lesson about combat I gave to some gifted fighters in the world of Men. It’s not about who’s stronger, but smarter.” Using my gauntlet, I pushed Orcrist’s blade away and used my body to spin myself upward, my foot sweeping Thorin’s leg again knocking him off his feet.

Like a cat, I landed back on my feet and summoned another blade and kept striking down at Thorin, not giving him time to recover or get back on his feet.

Using only Orcrist (since his fall had caused him to lose his shield) to block my constant attacks before I finally knocked the sword out of his hands and held my sword to his neck.

“Do you yield, Thorin Oakenshield?” he panted looking up at me before yielding. I made the sword disappear before extending my hand out to him. “You’ve trained your company well, Thorin Oakenshield. No one of the race of Men, Orc or even Elf has been able to come close to defeating me in combat. I sure would hate to have seen us be enemies.”

He took my hand and I helped him up.

“Some of you would even be considered honorary Celestials based on your fighting skills.”

“We thank you for your kind words Hela. You yourself were a worthy opponent even without the use of your Celestial powers. I too, would hate to see us meet in battle as enemies.”

“Three cheers for Hela and Thorin!” Bofur exclaimed as all the dwarves cheered, raising their weapons for us and Bilbo happily applaud on a job well done.

After all that fun and excitement I went to relax and clear my head (also to heal up the bruise slowly forming from Dwalin’s attack). As I was sitting in my room I heard someone’s voice calling my name. A soft, feminine whisper of a voice. Warm and gentle like melting honey yet soft and almost silent like the coo of a dove.

A voice that I knew all too well. I stood up and followed the voice that was telling me where to find her. I walked across the bridge by the multiple waterfalls, passed the statues of Elrond’s wife and twin brother Elros, before reaching the stairway up to the council room where the most sacred meetings are met at. I walked up the stairs feeling my heart go a flutter yet my palms sweating nervously.

Soon I beheld the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. Standing along the edge in a gown of white, the light of the setting sun making her shine like a star itself. Her long golden hair gently waving down her back like waves along the shore as she slowly turned towards me.

Tall and lean was her figure (as it was for most Elves but her—she was the tallest yet elegant of them all). Her piercing blue eyes stared directly into my eyes, her hands at her side.

“Lady Galadriel.” I said her name in awe.

“Hela.” She spoke in her warm, soothing voice that at the same time held authority. As a true Queen’s voice should. “Glad to see you are in good health.” She said in Elvish.

“Indeed my lady. I-I had no idea you would be here. Had I know I would’ve….properly dressed myself in better clothes than my usual Celestial garb.”

“There is no need. You are fair just as you are my dear child.” I felt my face grow warm at her compliment. Nervously I rubbed the back of my head before clearing my throat and approached her.

“How fairs Arwen and the twins? I heard from Nessa they were taking refuge up in Lórien with you and Lord Celeborn.”

“They are faring well. Elladan and Elrohir were, as I last heard, handling an orc patrol near the borders with Haldir.” At the mention of his name I couldn’t help but feel my face grow warmer. Galadriel turned to me with a soft but knowing smirk, “Should I say how fairs my Marchwarden Haldir?”

“I—I know he’s doing just fine. He is one of the strongest Elves of your realm, you and Celeborn would not have chosen him to be Marchwarden if you did not trust his skill.”

“He misses you. Longs to see you return to our wood one day.”

“And I have missed him as much as you say, even more than. Is it wrong of us? To have such feelings for each other?”

“The heart is a cruel yet confusing thing. But it is never wrong.” She told me with a gentle tuck of my hair. “Otherwise you wouldn’t given up his gift to you.” Her fingers gently stroked over my left wrist.

I sighed and removed my gauntlet to reveal a silver bracelet with the Lórien broach on it, and at the center of it was a sterling hazel gem of pure starlight. Resembling Haldir’s eyes.

“And yet I am afraid to give him my answer. Yes we are both immortal so we never have to fear time eating away at our lives, however there are more dangerous beings that come for me. More dangerous than Orcs or Goblins he’s used to fighting, and I know he’ll never be able to defeat them. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him to those creatures.”

“He too fears to lose you to the Deviants. Your last fight with them almost costed you your life. Haldir nearly withered away at the thought of losing you until you returned to our wood that day.”

“That’s when he gave me this. The day Smaug destroyed Dale and claimed Erebor.” Before more could be said, Galadriel looked up and we both could hear Gandalf and Elrond coming up the stairs.

“Best take your seat dear one. The White Council is about to begin.” I nodded and walked away from Galadriel as she turned back to look at the crescent moon that once again shined down upon us.

“Nor for that matter am I.” Gandalf said.

“It is not me you must answer to.” Elrond advised him as he gestured forward. As soon as Gandalf saw Galadriel, he froze as she turned towards him.

“Lady Galadriel.” He spoke with the same awe I did earlier before.

“Mithrandir.” She said to him. “It has been a long time.” She said in Elvish.

“Age may have changed me. But not so the Lady of Lórien.” Gandalf replied back in Elvish to her. Oh the old flatterer, I grinned as did Lord Elrond. Even Galadriel softly began to smile at Gandalf’s statement. “I had no idea, Lord Elrond had sent for you.”

“He didn’t.” a sudden voice spoke up. A soft but booming and gravely voice. “I did.” I saw Gandalf close his eyes as he slightly squished his face like a child that had just been caught stealing from the biscuit tray. We both turned and there stood the greatest Wizard in all of Middle-earth. Lord Elrond and Gandalf gave him a greeting nod as Gandalf said his name.

“Saruman.”

“You’ve been busy of late, my friend.” He said to Gandalf. He then turned to me and I stood up and bowed my head to him. “And you seem lifted from your grief, young Celestial.”

“In a way. It is good to see you once again Saruman the White.” With that greeting, the White Council meeting began.

The White Council. Consisted of Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel, Saruman the White, Gandalf the Grey, and the Celestial Prime Ajak. Together the five of them would meet on occasion in Rivendell to discuss extreme matters that came about Middle-Earth.

However since the War of the Last Alliance when Ajak was turned to stone along with the rest of my siblings, I was the only Celestial to take her place as part of the White Council. The last time the four of us met like this was well over 400 years ago, just before the era we like to call “The Watchful Peace” where nothing of world-ending occurrences had happened.

I stood by the column behind Gandalf, just a few feet across from Lord Elrond while Galadriel stood just a foot from the balcony she was on earlier. The pink skies of the sunrise now painting the sky in a beautiful haze.

“Tell me Gandalf; did you think these plans and schemes of yours would go unnoticed?” Saruman asked. Gandalf who had his hands together with his head resting against the side of his hands before dropping them said to his superior wizard.

“Unnoticed? No I—I’m simply doing what I feel to be right.”

“The dragon has long been on your mind.” Lady Galadriel said to him.

“That is true my lady. Smaug owes allegiance to no one. But if he should side with the enemy, a dragon can be used to terrible effect.” Like during the First Age. Ikaris and Thena both sported scars that not even Ajak could heal.

“What enemy?” Saruman asked almost in offense. “Gandalf the enemy is defeated. Sauron is vanquished. He can never regain his full strength.”

“Does it not worry you that the last of the Dwarf rings should simply vanish along with its bearer? Of the seven Dwarf rings, four were consumed by dragons. Two were taken by Sauron before he fell in Mordor, the fate of the last Dwarf ring—remains unknown. The ring that was worn by Thrain.” Gandalf tried to reason with the others.

“Without the ruling Ring of Power, the seven are of no value to the enemy. To control the other rings he needs the One. And that Ring was lost long, long ago. It was swept out to sea by the waters of the Anduin.”

“Gandalf, for 400 years we have lived in peace. A hard-won, Watchful Peace.” Lord Elrond tried to reason with Gandalf.

“Are we, are we at peace?” Gandalf questioned them as his hands lay there on the stone table. “Trolls have come down from the mountains. They are raiding villages, destroying farms. Orcs have attacked us on the road.”

“I do have to agree with Gandalf. I know I am not a real member of this council and only a stand-in for Ajak, but I must put in that it’s not just Orcs or Trolls we need to worry about. The Deviants have grown stronger and keep returning every few centuries. More advanced than the last. The last Deviants happened at the same time Smaug took control of Erebor.”

“Trolls and Orcs are hardly a prelude to war.” Lord Elrond said as he walked up to stand beside Gandalf. He then turned to me and said, “The Deviants though mindless monsters only seek out Celestial essence. So long as you remain my dear, I fear they may never stop till you are defeated.”

“Not with what I had to do last time in order to defeat them. But then who knows how long that will last.” I placed my hand over my heart as Saruman said to Gandalf.

“Always you must meddle, Gandalf. Looking for trouble when none exists.”

“Let them speak.” Lady Galadriel advised softly as she circled around us. That’s when Gandalf spoke his mind freely.

“There is something at work beyond the evil of Smaug. Something far more powerful. We can remain blind to it, but it will not be ignoring us, that I can promise you. A sickness lies over the Greenwood. The woodsmen who live there now call it Mirkwood. And uhh, they say….” He trailed off his thought but Saruman demanded he finish his thought.

“Well? Don’t stop now. Tell us what the woodsmen say.”

“They speak of a Necromancer living in Dol Guldur.” I spoke for Gandalf. The white wizard, the Lord of Imladris and the Lady of Light turned to me, their eyes showing either concern or skepticism. “A sorcerer who can summon the dead.”

“That’s absurd. No such power exist, even by your status as the Celestial of Death. For you only allow to bring the dead through you to have a voice.” Saruman said to me.

I shrugged but in the back of my mind I began to wonder. Maybe I could summon the dead without having to be their vessel, but I wouldn’t dare try it for it was forbidden. But being one of the only Celestials of ,Death I never knew just what is the full extent of having this power, nor why would it be considered to be part of the Great Celestial Circle along with my siblings and the Celestial Prime.

“This Necromancer is nothing more than a mortal man. A conjurer dabbling in black magic.” Saruman tried to come up with a reasonable explanation.

“And so I thought too, but, Radagast has seen—” Gandalf spoke up however Saruman interrupted him.

“Radagast? Do not speak to me of Radagast the Brown. He’s a foolish fellow.” His eyes glowered down at Gandalf at the mention of the Brown Wizard. Gandalf shrugged and tried to play off.

“Well, he’s odd, I grant you. Lives a solitary life.”

“It’s not that. It’s his excessive consumption of mushrooms. They’ve addled his brain and….yellowed his teeth.” Saruman said with judgment and disgust. “I’ve warned him. It is unbefitting one of the Istari to be wondering the woods…..” Saruman’s voice was drowned out from my senses as I heard Lady Galadriel’s voice in my head.

‘Mithrandir carries something. It has put you on edge.’

‘Yes.’ I replied solemnly silently gulping. ‘Radagast found it in Dol Guldur. I—dare not say what it is.’ I spoke fearfully.

‘Understood my child.’ With that her voice was gone and I could hear Saruman continue to ramble on about the history of the Wizards and ranting about his dislike for Radagast.

I knew Galadriel was now talking to Gandalf about what I had told her because he now took the tied up tarp and placed it on the table.

“What is that?” asked Lord Elrond.

“A relic of Mordor.” Lady Galadriel spoke in fear. Lord Elrond who was reaching out to see what was underneath the tarp, ceased for a moment when Galadriel revealed it’s true nature. Before he finally got the strength to unfold one end, before finally revealing the weapon inside.

A Morgul Blade.

Frightened at the evil that seeped from this weapon, I turned away. Clenching my stomach with my hand, trying to control my breathing. I felt two arms wrap around me and I saw a golden halo shielding my vision from the wretched blade. I gently wrapped my arms around Galadriel as she stroked her fingers through my hair comfortingly.

“A Morgul Blade.” Lord Elrond said in a grave tone.

“Made for the Witch King of Angmar. And—buried with him.” Galadriel spoke before trailing off fearfully. “When Angmar fell…the Men of the North took his body and all that he possessed and sealed it within the High Fells of Rhudaur. Deep within the rock they buried him, in a tomb so dark—it would never come to light.” Galadriel retold the final moments of the dreaded Witch King.

“This is not possible.” Lord Elrond said. “A powerful spell lies upon those tombs they cannot be opened.”

“What proof do we have this weapon came from Angmar’s grave?” Saruman asked skeptically. I turned to him, my eyes widened in shock. I can sense the pure evil and dread from that weapon, no other weapon can make me feel such fear other than the one wielded by the Witch King himself.

“I have none.” Gandalf said.

“Because there is none.” Saruman argued. I felt Lady Galadriel rest her hands along my elbows and I looked to her and she did a very slight head gesture for me to walk beside her. Getting some distance away from that blade did relieve me a bit of my fear.

I looked up to her in gratitude and she softly closed her eyes as a warm smile came across her face.

“Let us examine what we know. A single orc pack has dared cross the Bruinen. A dagger from a bygone age has been found. And a human sorcerer who calls himself, “The Necromancer” has taken up residence in a ruined fortress. It’s not so very much after all. The question of this Dwarvish company, however….troubles me deeply. I’m not convinced Gandalf, nor of your involvement with them my Lady Hela. I do not feel I can condone such a quest. If they’d come to me, I might have spared them of this disappointment.”

As bad as it may seem, I tuned out Saruman’s voice to really think on all that’s happened. At first this was just about reclaiming a Dwarvish homeland but now hearing from Radagast about this terrible news in Dol Guldur, the weapon forged by the Witch King himself crossing back into our world, I fear this is the beginning of the end.

“My Lord Elrond,” Lindir’s voice broke me from my thoughts. “The dwarves….they’re gone.”

“What? How is this possible the guards were on border watch all over each exit point around this valley.” Lord Elrond said. I turned to Gandalf as he was nonchalantly picking at his nails from underneath the table.

“Gandalf, do not tell me that the over-extension of this meeting was your way of stalling to allow the company to slip pass our sights.” Saruman lectured him.

“They are beyond our reach now. Even if we were to bring them back, they will only push on further. Or worse want to engage in battle.” Lady Galadriel pointed out. Even though he did not like it, Saruman relented and agreed with Lady Galadriel’s decree.

After that Lord Saruman departed from Rivendell and Lord Elrond walked away with Lindir to clean up and restock the food and wine, leaving Gandalf and I alone with Lady Galadriel.

“You both will follow them?” she asked us to which we both replied yes. “You both are right to help Thorin Oakenshield. But I fear this quest has set in motion forces we do not yet understand. The riddle of the Morgul blade must be answered. Something moves in the shadows unseen. Hidden from our sight it will not show itself, not yet. But every day it grows in strength. You both must be careful.”

“We will my lady.” I assured her with a bow and placing my hand over my heart. Gandalf nodded, whilst still in his head before walking down the steps and preparing to leave when Galadriel stopped him.

“Mithrandir?” He turned to her and Galadriel asked him. “Why the Halfling?” to this Gandalf began to ponder as he responded to her.

“I do not know.” He answered truthfully. I raised my brow about to speak up but I stopped as Gandalf began to explain, “Saruman believes that it is only great power that can hold evil in check. But that is not what I have found. I have found it is—the small things. Every day deeds of ordinary folk that keeps the darkness at bay. Simple acts of kindness and love.”

I softly smiled at that response. He is right. While I have seen armies of great numbers fighting off great evil, I myself being apart of those numbers, it truly is the small things in life that helps brighten up this world.

Like during my time in the World of Men; Rohan, Gondor, Dale, Laketown. After the battles are done and the dead are counted for, or when I’m lost in my head at the remembrance of my family’s sacrifice, the little children I have come to know, take care of and watch them grow into strong adults. It was their innocence that has helped keep me out of the Darkness of my head. Whether making crafts or playing simple games or speaking in riddles to fool their folks.

A small spark of innocence can help heal a tattered old soul.

“Why Bilbo Baggins?” he resumed with a slight chuckle before answering fearfully. “Perhaps it is because I’m afraid…and he gives me courage.” I walked up to Gandalf and placed my arm through his and he looked down at me.

I smiled softly up at him and embraced him, resting my head against his arm. He smiled down at me before feeling Galadriel take his hands in hers. She now stood in front of us as she assured him.

“Do not be afraid, Mithrandir.” She tucked a small strand of his grey hair out of his face. “You are not alone.” She said as he eyes directed towards me. Gandalf turned to me and I nodded up at him as my hand softly gripped his wrist in reassurance. “If you both should ever need my help…..I will come.” She finished in Elvish.

We bowed our heads to her and when we looked back up, she was gone.

“Come on old friend, we best get a move on before those dwarves and our Hobbit find themselves in some serious trouble.”

“Yes. Yes we should.” Gandalf replied. With that, we claimed our newly gifted weapons, bid Lord Elrond a fond goodbye and proceeded to catch up with our company.

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raindownforme · 3 years

Note

First off, I adore your work! You’re writing is absolutely lovely!

And also I have a request.

Ted is a the popular theater kid and reader is the punk of the school who keeps to their clique. Ted grows an interest for the reader and constantly tries to flirt with them in front of their friends and in private or get a date with them. Reader brushes him off most of the time but grows to like him.

Shakespeare

Ted Nivison x reader [she/her used]

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” The tall brunette stood at the front of the English classroom, reading from the book in his hand. The teacher sat at her desk a few paces away, taking note of how he talked. y/n watched him lazily, not quite caring for Shakespeare. “Thou art more lovely and temperate.”

y/n didn’t pay attention as Ted continued the presentation. She flicked her mechanical pencil between her fingers, biding time. “Thank you, Theodore, for sonnet 18. Next is 19– y/n?”

“I chose the annotation project.”

“Thank you. Who had 20?”

Ted took the seat next to y/n. “How’d I do?”

“Not bad. I mean, I’m sure you could’ve done better theater kid.”

“I don’t know. Let me practice it for you and we’ll see.” y/n rolled her eyes, resting her flushed cheek against her hand. “What was yours about?”

“Also romance. I mean it’s half of what the guy wrote about.”

“I could teach you some of his other stuff.”

“Yes. Theodore. The theater tutor.”

“Aw. Is it my aesthetic? Is that the problem?” y/n exaimned the difference between the two of them. Ted wore the same blue jeans, sneakers, and graphic tee to school every day. Of course y/n had a few staple pieces; her leather boots and mix-matched pieces of jewelry, but she did most commonly wear dark or patterned pants and faded shirt.

“It’s a thousand percent the aesthetic.”

Ted closed his notebook, playfully muttering the himself. The school bell rang and y/n stood up, shoving belongings into a book bag as the teacher made announcements to the leaving students.

“Hey. Come see the show.”

“What show?” She pushed through the crowd as Ted followed. y/n could spot her friends group in the distance, waiting just outside the doors.

“The show! Midsummer’s Night Dream. I’m starring in it.”

“Yeah sure. Like I can afford it.” Her hand hit the door, but he stepped in front of her, preventing her from leaving the building. “Ted-“

“Please. Tonight. Seven. I’ll set a ticket aside for you.” She felt her face heat up as moved away slightly. “Might wanna say hi to your friends for me y/n.”

The boy walked away and y/n continued out the door to her and her friends’ lunch period.

———

“I mean. What’s the worst that could happen?” y/n’s friend, Alix, peeled away the paper wrapping around his sandwich. “Do you even like the guy?”

“I don’t- I don’t know.”

“So it could be yes.” Alix leaned in the back of his seat as he took a bite of his lunch. y/n and her friends were sitting in Alix’s truck in the school parking lot, all eating something they either brought from home or bought at a fast food place near the school.

“It’s always wise to indulge in the arts.” Jaz, one of y/n’s other friends spoke from the back seat.

“Dude would you shut up? You took a writing class once.” The last one of the group, Ryan, waved away what Jaz said. “If you like the guy you like him. If you don’t you don’t. Or play with him. I don’t care.”

“I’m not going to play with Ted’s feelings.” y/n searched through her French fries mindlessly. “He Is cute. I don’t know guys.”

“Just go to the show. It can’t be that bad.”

———

Lunch passed, as did the next couple classes, until y/n’s last period of the day. Thankfully, it was a TA period, so there wasn’t much to do.

“Dearie would you run these to the theatrics department for me?” The lady behind the front desk has to be at least 80 at this point, but y/n stood to take the stack of papers from her. “Thank you.”

y/n smiled and left, taking leisure in her walk. The sole of her boots slapped against the off-white linoleum, echoing through the hallways and cafeteria as she crossed the entire building. She never really realized how far the performing arts hall was until walking to it.

The door creaked as it opened to an empty black classroom. “Hello?” She stepped in, her words echoing. She could hear some small commotion deeper into the theater. She followed the noise, finding herself in what looked like a workshop. “Hi?”

“y/n!” She whipped her head to the side to see Ted walking through a large doorway. “Always a pleasure to see you. Especially here. How can I help love?”

y/n brushed off his comment the best she could. “I’m looking for the director? I’ve got some papers to deliver.”

She held out the papers, trying to show Ted, but instead he linked one of his pinkies with hers. “I’ll take you.”

She stared at their linked fingers as Ted dragged her from the workshop to the back of the audience. Ted talked to somebody, but she didn’t quite pay attention.

“And who’s this?”

Looking up, she met eyes with a man she hadn’t quite spoken to before. He wasn’t quite as tall as Ted, and he wore a blue blazer and hiking boots. “This is y/n, from the front office.”

“Ah.” He nodded at Ted. “And is this who-“

“Yes.” Ted cut him short, rubbing at the back of his own neck.

“Well thank you.” The man took the papers from her hand. “We hope to see you tonight.”

She watched him walk away before turning back to Ted. “What’s he mean?”

“Well, he’s who I had to talk to about your ticket. You are coming tonight aren’t you?”

“I can swing by.”

“Good.” Ted brought their still conjoined hands up and lightly kissed her knuckles. “I’ll be watching for you.”

———

y/n had been waiting for a while now.

When school had got out, she had hung around with her friends for a while, getting something to eat and doing some homework, but now it was 6:53 and she was stuck in line at the ticket counter. In front of her were five people. She was five people away from whatever was to come out of tonight.

“Next!” The line shuffled forwards as two people walked inside. She bounced on her feet, watching the exchange of cash between the student running the ticket booth and the patrons. “Next!”

“Hi I think I had a ticket reserved for me.” The student looked over their shoulder at something, then back to y/n.

“Who reserved it?”

“Ted Nivison?”

“Oh. Okay then this is for you.” The student handed over a rectangular ticket with a seat number stamped on the bottom. “Enjoy the show.”

y/n walked through the double doors into the audience. Most of the seats were full, and it took her a few minutes to find the seat marked for her. When she did, she set her backpack down in the front of her, noticing something underneath her seat. It was a folded piece of paper with a note from Ted.

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, so long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

-Ted

She stuck the note in her pocket and traded it for her phone. 6:59 pm. She silenced it and looked back to the stage, anxiously waiting. The lights dimmed and she stared up the stage. The curtains began to open and it revealed Ted standing in Grecian style clothing with minimal armor pieces. He stood with his hand outstretched to a girl wearing similar clothing.

Ted’s eyes surveyed the audience, landing on y/n with a smirk. “Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour draws on apace…”

y/n sat in awe for the next two hours. She watched as Ted moved across the stage, putting to life the story as if he’d lived it. She watched as the characters came to life, as the set moved, and as the lights changed. And two hours later, the curtain closed and the cast came together to do bows. She clapped furiously, then watched everyone stand from their seats and leave. She stood, trying to grab her things. The theater had been nearly emptied by now, people rushing out to say hi to people they knew in the cast.

y/n looked around. To the side of the curtain, just peeking out, was someone waving. She walked over, realizing it was Ted.

“Hey there! What’d you think?”

“That was amazing, Ted.” The boy smiled, taking her hand in his. He began to pull her backstage with him. “Wait Ted-“

“It’s fine don’t worry. Here.” Ted pulled her to stand near the classroom area. “Give me two minutes.”

She watched Ted enter the dressing room. For a moment, it was quiet, until everyone else started to file in. The room quickly became loud, filling with student’s voices.

“Hey.” Ted tapped y/n on the shoulder. “I know it’s a lot. Come with me.” Ted draped an arm over her shoulders as he pulled her outside into the crisp night air. “Better?”

“Yeah. Better. Ted that was- that was awesome.”

“I’m glad I can impress you.” Ted checked his phone. “It’s nine already. You have plans?”

“No I-“

“Come get dinner with me. My treat.”

“Ted. It sounds like you’re asking me on a date.” She lightly nudged him with her elbow.

“It’s only a date if you say yes.”

y/n paused, taken aback by the sudden forwardness. “If I say yes?”

“You don’t have to! Don’t think you have to!” Ted gestured with his hands in a panicked motion. “I just- I think you’re really cool and pretty with your style and I’ve always liked you for as long as I can remember and I was just wondering-“

“Yes.”

He paused, eyes wide as a blush crept onto his face. “Yes? Yes as in yes a date? Our date?”

y/n stood on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Take me on a date theater boy.”

Ted wrapped her in a hug, pressing a kiss to her nose. “Anywhere you want.”

——————

Hi! I hope this is what you were looking for!

#ted nivison #ted nivison x reader #chuckle sandwich

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honey-dewey · 3 years

Text

The Dog Days of Summer

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/Reader

Word Count: 1,923

Warnings: A few mentions of Tom, but this is all fluff!

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

On one of the warmest days of summer, Frankie takes his dog to a one man dog wash. The last thing he expected was for his dog to lead him to the future love of his life, but hey, that’s how things work here.

“Community dog wash,” Frankie read off the flier that had been placed in his mailbox. “What do you think Red? Wanna go check it out?”

Red huffed from his spot on the couch.

Frankie chuckled, sitting beside Red. He’d always been a dog person, but could never see himself owning one. At least, not until he’d come home from his latest mission. When Tom had died, he’d left his beautiful Rottweiler dog to the boys. Apparently his wife and daughter weren’t dog people. The Millers couldn’t take Red, and Santi still hadn’t come back to the country. So the care of Red had fallen to Frankie.

Red was not a small dog. At almost 120 pounds, he could’ve been a menace if he wanted to. However, he was gentle as can be and so incredibly enthusiastic for literally anything. Frankie could still remember when Tom had brought Red to meet the boys, and he’d been a tiny fuzzy puppy who’d fallen asleep cradled in Frankie’s arms. Now, that baby was nearing 5, and was no less adorable.

The only thing Frankie hated about Red was having to bathe him.

Red was a menace on bath day. He cowered in the corner of the shower, never got close enough to the shower head to actually get clean, and bit Frankie when he tried to dry him off.

“I think we should go,” Frankie said, scratching behind Red’s ear. “Check it out. You might make some friends.”

Red boofed softly. Sometimes, he responded at just the right times and Frankie could’ve sworn he understood him.

Nearer to noon, Frankie got up off the couch and got dressed, Red dutifully following him and vibrating with excitement at Frankie put his harness on and led him to his truck.

The location of the dog wash wasn’t far. In fact, it was a few minutes away in a small public space. There were a few kiddie pools, a hose, and a single person standing there, drying off a small dog. A handmade sign read ‘Community Dog Wash.’

Frankie kept a firm hand on Red’s leash as he walked over. Tom had trained Red well, but he was still prone to overeager introductions or forgetting he was a big dog.

“Alrighty Ms. Avery, Lydia’s all clean!” you said, handing Ms. Avery her small dog back. Today was one of the nice days of summer, warm without being stifling. So you’d donned shorts, an old shirt, and a baseball cap you’d gotten from a friend and headed out to wash the neighborhood dogs. You did it every summer, and this year was no exception.

“Hello,” a slightly nervous voice said, and you looked around. A man who you’d seen once or twice around the neighborhood was standing there, a practically vibrating Rottie standing by his side. “Is this the dog wash?”

“Yep!” You said happily, kneeling down to introduce yourself to the dog. “Hello, who’re you?”

The man pat the dog’s head. “This is Red.”

Red, seizing his opportunity, licked your face.

“Red!” The man reprimanded, causing Red to whine. “No!”

“Oh it’s fine,” you reassured, wiping your face with your sleeve. “My dog is so much worse.”

As if on cue, your dog came ambling over. The man’s eyes went wide. “That’s not a dog. That’s a small bear.”

You reached up and scratched behind your dog’s ears. “Nah. She’s a Caucasian Shepherd dog. Her name is Oboe, short for Oberon.”

“Like the Game of Thrones character?”

“Midsummer’s Night Dream actually,” you said. “I’m (Y/N).”

“Frankie.”

You stood, brushing yourself off. “Well, Frankie. Shall we?”

Red was very eager to follow you right up until he discovered this would include water. At which he pulled on his leash and whined pitifully, trying to escape.

“I’m so sorry,” Frankie said as you stood by one of the pools and tried to contain your laughter. “He’s always like this when I try to bathe him.”

Oboe snorted, as if she was laughing. She had curled on the grass, bathing in the warm summer sun. You sighed. You’d have to get her some ice, or else she’d overheat herself.

You walked over to Red, grabbing him and lifting him with ease, which shocked Frankie. He stood there, wide eyed, as you plopped Red in the kiddie pool and got in with him, straddling the dog and squeezing his hips with your legs. “See, this isn’t so bad.”

Red whined and tried to run, but your grip on him tightened. “Frankie, can you hand me the hose?”

Frankie grabbed the hose and handed it to you, smiling as Red gave him a very betrayed look. “Sorry buddy,” he said, kneeling down. “But you smell.”

You gasped overdramatically. “No!” You said, smiling. “He smells just fine!”

Frankie laughed. “Mhm. Sure he does.”

Getting Red wet wasn’t hard. Between the pool and the hose, he was soaked in minutes. However, Frankie had to shed his shoes and join you in the pool because Red wouldn’t sit still. Now, with Red soaked and both of you getting sore, you reached to grab the soap and immediately got a face full of water as Red shook violently.

“Red!” You gasped, looking down at yourself. You’d been a bit damp from your previous dogs, but this wasn’t just a bit wet. Water raced down your arms and legs, and you completely abandoned your ball cap, sighing. “Gonna have to wash that.”

Frankie mirrored your action, tossing his hat beside yours. “Yeah. He’s prone to shaking. Sorry.” His face was just as wet as yours, water dripping off his chin and cheeks.

You shrugged, putting soap in your hands and throwing your leg over Red’s back again. “It’s fine,” you said, starting to lather the soap into Red’s fur. “Oboe’s got all that long fur, and when she shakes, it’s hell.”

Frankie nodded. “Where’d you even find her?”

“A breeder,” you said, scratching Red’s shoulder and laughing as he began to kick. “Breeder was a good friend of mine, and she had a puppy who no one wanted because she was the runt. I had just moved here, and said screw it, I’ll take her. They named her Oberon. All the puppies in that litter had Midsummer names.”

“She’s a runt?” Frankie looked at Oboe, surprised.

You nodded. “She was,” you said. “She’s actually still on the small side for her breed.” Red squirmed out of your soapy grip, but Frankie caught him before he could make a getaway. You smiled and picked up the hose. “Red, stop squirming.”

Red didn’t listen. He continued to wriggle, now trying to bite the hose water. You used one hand to clear the soap from Red’s fur, grinning as he kissed your chin when you bent down.

“So, how’d you end up with Red?” You asked, looking up briefly at Frankie.

“Oh.” He was quiet for a second. “I was in the military, and we lost a good man on a mission not too long ago. Red was his dog.”

You paused in your actions. “I’m so sorry.”

Frankie shrugged halfheartedly, still crouched in the water. “It took a while, but we recovered.”

Red gave you no time to feel much regret about your words. Instead, he tried to bite you as you washed his paws, and you gave him a light bop on the nose. Not enough to hurt him in any way, but enough to warn him. He didn’t try again, thankfully.

Once Red’s front paws were clean, you turned around and started to wash Red’s back half. Oboe had joined the fray, licking moisture out of Frankie’s shirt. He didn’t seem to mind much as he held Red’s face and kept him from going anywhere. As you scratched your nails over Red’s butt, he began to wiggle harder, one leg coming up and then the other.

“He’s dancing!” You said joyfully, continuing to scratch. Frankie laughed, watching Red kick.

Finishing your job only took a few more minutes, and then you were drying Red off and strapping him into his harness again. He kissed you anytime you came close to his face, and you laughed when his entire back half wiggled when he tried to wag his tail.

“Alright,” you said, finally done. “He’s as clean as he’s gonna get!”

“It’ll last all of ten minutes,” Frankie promised, picking his hat up but not putting it on. “I’ll see you around?”

You nodded. “Of course. I’m here every weekend to play with Oboe. We haven’t got a huge backyard, and she likes to run.”

Frankie smiled. “Maybe we’ll have to come play with you and Oboe one weekend.”

“I think we’d both like that.”

Frankie left after that, and you watched him herd Red into his truck. He waved as he drove off, and you waved back.

“Alright Oboe,” you said, turning back to your dog, who was chewing absently on the brim of your hat. “Hey!”

You pulled the hat from her mouth and immediately felt your stomach flip. This wasn’t your hat. The oil company logo was faded and unfamiliar, and you looked around. Frankie’s truck was nowhere to be seen. He probably hadn’t even noticed he’d left with your hat instead of his.

After an hour, the sun got to be too much, and you relented, putting Frankie’s hat on your head. You had to adjust it so it would fit, but it did a decent job of keeping the sun off your face.

When you finally ended up home, you hung the hat up and let Oboe loose in the house. She immediately curled up in her bed, and you slowly made yourself dinner. You were halfway through chopping some vegetables when your phone rang.

“Hello?” You wedged the phone between your shoulder and ear.

“Hey.”

You smiled. “Frankie!”

Frankie chuckled. “I think you have something of mine.”

“I could say the same about you,” you said, glancing at the hat on your coat hook by the door.

“Yeah. Sorry about that,” Frankie said. “Glad you wrote your number in it though.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot I did that,” you admitted, dumping the vegetables into a bowl. “Oboe and I are going to go back to the community space tomorrow to watch the neighborhood soccer team play. Wanna come with?”

Frankie was quiet for a second, and you could hear shuffling. When he spoke again, he sounded strained. “Yeah. Sorry, Red had my shoe.”

You laughed. “Tell that rascal he needs to be nice to his daddy!”

Red barked in the background, and you smiled. “Anyway, tomorrow. The team plays at noon, but I’m always there at eleven to help set up.”

“I can be there at noon,” Frankie said. “I won’t bring Red though. He’s spending the day with his uncles.”

You leaned against your counter and tried to wipe your grin off your face. “It’ll just be the two of us. And Oboe.”

Oboe looked up when you said her name, but quickly went right back to sleep.

“That works,” Frankie promised. “This almost sounds like a date.”

You tried to cover your nervousness. “Maybe it is a date.”

Frankie had a grin in his voice when he spoke again. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date.”

“Same here.”

“I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow then.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be seeing you. Don’t forget my hat.”

“Don’t forget mine,” Frankie replied. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” you echoed, hanging up and looking at Oboe. “Oboe. I think I’m in love.”

#Triple Frontier #francisco 'catfish' morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

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the-melting-world · 3 years

Text

Goosebumps 🍋

~ In which a pscyhic pirate reunites with a quiet quartermaster...

@midsummer-masquerade

Sun Bai x Jacqui

Jacqui belongs to @apprenticealec

You can read all the fics to Off To The Races: A Midsummer Masquerade here.

Music: "Goosebumps" by Travis Porter

Day 5 of The Midsummer Masquerade ~ Voyeurism

Smut Prompts 9 + 48: "Is it good when I touch you here? Or maybe here?” + “Shall we put that mouth to better use?”

cw: brief mention of death

~ 3k words

Shortly after Rodrigo leaves his quartermaster's side to pursue a masquerade guest with a swan mask, Jacqui starts to feel a familiar, encouraging sensation lightly pressing up the against the nape of his neck...

As much as Jacqui couldn’t get enough of Sun Bai’s telepathic kisses, this was the one time he could pass on them. Especially if it meant he could catch up to the slippery mantis as he took Jacqui on a maddening journey through the Palace corridors.

Though Jacqui was able to keep Bai in his sights – thanks to both of their heights, none of them had a problem getting lost in the sea of people – Bai was always just out of Jacqui’s reach. Yet the pirate continued to taunt and poke the quartermaster with those psychic touches that felt eerily similar to Bai’s lips walking down his spine.

Eventually, the halls grew darker and less crowded.

Bai, Jacqui called out in his own head, knowing that the other could hear him, where the hell are you taking us?

A kiss ghosted across Jacqui’s pressure point, followed by some quiet snickering.

[You’ll see.]

Finally, Bai went still before a pair of tall, metal doors. Jacqui caught up to him and, with breathtaking control, steered him against the wall. This close to Bai’s lean body, barely covered by a dark silk robe, Jacqui could hardly hold back from burying his face in the pirate’s neck. And so he didn’t.

Bai hissed and trembled in what Jacqui knew to be pleasure as he walked his lips up and down Sun Bai’s throat, taking in his scent of rain and whatever herbal tea he last had to drink.

Jacqui reached for the opening in Bai’s robe and slowly dragged the pad of his finger down his chest. “Is it good when I touch you here?” He pulled the edge of Bai’s robe off his shoulder “Or maybe here?” Jacqui whispered as he lowered his head and dropped a kiss to the exposed skin.

To Jacqui’s surprise, it was Bai who eliminated the space between them. “I need you closer.” The pirate sounded desperate, almost whiny.

Jacqui rocked his hips forward and once again rolled his face against his partner’s neck.

“I’m here. Take as much of me as you want.”

Jacqui sensed some of the internal battle taking place in Bai. He didn’t miss a single shiver or shudder from the former bounty hunter. Bai dragged his palms up and down Jacqui’s bare chest and keened his hips forward so his erection rubbed insistently against the quartermaster’s.

[Goddamnit Jacqui, I want all of you.]

He sounded more frustrated with himself more than anything. Jacqui didn’t know if it would ever be the right time to ask Bai how he got this way. Sometimes in the rare quiet hours on the Bleeding Heart, he wondered about Bai’s behaviors. He had seen him without clothes and knew that he didn’t have any scars or brands to speak of. So what was the source of all his avoidance?

There were other peculiarities as well. In the bedroom, Bai had an aversion to being bent over solid surfaces. He preferred to stretch out on the bed or even the floor. He was also content with being on his hands and knees. These aversions weren’t something Bai ever came out and spoke to Jacqui about. The observant quartermaster simply happened to pick up on things over time.

For now, however, his curiosity would have to wait. He wanted Bai just as much as he felt wanted by him. Jacqui used a fraction of his strength to line his entire body up with Bai’s, pinning him firmly to the wall. He fed a hand inside his robe, relishing in the way Bai’s smooth skin rippled as Jacqui’s palm traveled down to his waist where he firmly gripped. Jacqui wanted to feel more of Bai between his legs so he spread his own a little, encouraging Bai to press his thigh in between them.

Jacqui’s other hand came up last to Bai’s head. Soon he was lost in his ghostly white waves, careful not to disturb his glasses as he moved in with deep and tender kisses. By now, Bai no longer struggled with matching Jacqui’s rhythm. His body might have been shivering and losing its grip every time Jacqui flexed his muscles, but that wasn’t the case with his mouth. Bai’s jaw went slack for Jacqui as his tongue came alive and eager to tease the ring in the pirate’s lip.

“We need to find a room,” Jacqui groaned as he drew back just enough to look into Bai’s eyes. Bai was clearly in a giving mood and he didn’t want to be in a place open enough to risk getting interrupted by any of the crew.

Jacqui suddenly had a thought. It made him smirk as he drew Bai’s face up by his chin. “And then maybe we can put that mouth to better use, hm?” He gave him a soft kiss, but immediately regretted his words when he pulled back and saw the look on Bai’s face.

Jacqui wished he could kick himself. If there was one thing Bai had come clean about in the past, it was his vulnerabilities around any oral affection below the waist.

Jacqui stepped back and hid his face in his palm. “I’m sorry. It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other. I totally forgot–”

Bai’s hand came up to rest on Jacqui’s arm. He gently pried Jacqui’s palm from his face. “No. That’s actually something I wanted to…” He swallowed and adjusted his lenses. “Just follow me.”

The room that Bai led Jacqui inside of was almost completely dark except for a spot in the center that was lit up by a single beam of light. There was a cushion on the floor, resting under the spotlight.

Jacqui stopped Bai from going any further. “Wait. Before I forget.” He pulled out something he had carried with from the ship. “This is for you.”

Bai didn’t look at the gift until both of them were under the light. He quietly observed a simple solid black case. Once he figured out how it opened, he discovered the rich velvety interior. It came in a nostalgic shade of green much like the jade stones occupying the piercings in Bai’s septum and bridge.

“For my glasses?” The psychic whispered.

Jacqui smiled as he carefully removed the blue-tinted frames from Bai’s face and set them inside the case. “Yes. So you don’t have to keep replacing them so often. Besides, I figured it would come in handy tonight.” He set the case on the ground out of the light.

“Now.” Jacqui faced Bai again. “What was it that you wanted to show me?”

Bai looked a little lost for words. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting the gift. Jacqui reassured him by brushing his thumb over the mole close to Bai’s eye.

“You can talk to me with your mind if that’s easier.”

Bai turned his eyes up under the light, which illuminated the true gray in them.

[It is easier this way.]

Jacqui wasn’t sure at first, but he thought he heard the space suddenly fill up with the sound of a violin.

[You asked me earlier if I wanted to put my mouth to better use.]

The darkness in the room began to lift.

[The truth is I do. I have. I always have.]

It didn’t take long for Jacqui to realize that they were not alone.

[These sort of things take a little longer for me. But I think I’m ready now, Jacqui. I wanted to make tonight special for that reason.]

Jacqui scanned the room to see that they were surrounded by chairs, which were all occupied. There were two rows. The second row belonged to the orchestra. The first row closest to Jacqui and Bai was full of guests barely clothed and touching themselves in ways that were meant to bring pleasure.

[It’s going to be special because we get to have a witness. Quite a few actually.]

The party guests’ limbs were positioned at odd angles. That’s when Jacqui noticed that they all seemed to be controlled by strings at their joints. He followed the threads up and and up and up until…

[Puppet masters and their “marionettes,”] Bai explained. [It’s some sort of kink magic. I don’t know. All the parties involved are consenting, I promise.]

Jacqui’s heart was causing a lump to form at the base of his throat. He looked back at Bai.

“They’re going to watch us while you–”

Bai collided messily with Jacqui’s mouth. Hot and breathy, he whispered, “While I suck you off – yes, yes. Yes.”

[If you’re not into it, just say the word. I’ll make them go away.]

Jacqui steadied his breath against Bai’s already swollen lips. He cleared his throat and said with calm confidence, “Let them watch.”

Sun Bai didn’t waste any more time talking. He dipped his face against Jacqui’s neck, working kisses down his collarbone and over his chest. His fingers came to Jacqui’s crotch to unlace the drawstrings on his tight, leather pants.

Meanwhile, the orchestra and the masturbating marionettes carried on in the background.

[Do you want to know why I don’t get jealous when I see Rodrigo all over you? Or lose my cool whenever he catches wind of me and chases me off? It’s because I know and more importantly I know that you know: you’re mine. Just mine.]

Bai was on his knees now, dragging his open mouth over Jacqui’s tight bulge. His breath was unsteady under the musical whine of the strings playing in the background. Bai dug his fingers behind the leather and seesawed the fabric down just enough to free Jacqui's cock.

The psychic looked up at the quartermaster as he formed a ring with his index and thumb that he then slid from Jacqui’s base and up until he gently pinched the head. Bai maintained eye contact as he brought his face forward and dabbed the crease of his lower lip with Jacqui’s small spell of precum.

Jacqui’s face burned at the sight. He knew he had no control over the muscles in his jaw. Was he wetting or biting his lip? Was he arching his eyebrow in curious fascination? He had no clue.

Bai was tonguing his slit now, his eyes closed in tranquil concentration. He dug his fingers deeper past the lip of Jacqui’s pants and gave a slow tug, filling his mouth up with Jacqui’s impressive length. Bai took his time salivating over every centimeter of Jacqui’s cock, savoring each ridge, each hidden dimple that he would have otherwise missed if he had simply tried to swallow him whole.

“Bai,” Jacqui breathed, “I want you in my head too. Talk to me.”

Bai’s eyes fluttered open. He gave the softest of smirks, his mouth still full of cock.

[What’s wrong? Don’t like the orchestra that I’ve prepared for you? And here I thought you were a man who could appreciate the more alternative art forms.]

Before Jacqui could respond, Bai’s presence was back.

[Is it getting to be too much? The crowds? The lights? I can turn them off if that’s better.]

Jacqui didn’t know how Bai controlled it, but the room went completely dark. The music was still going and the audience was still getting off on themselves.

[There. Sounds like they’ve seen enough to take care of themselves. Now it’s just you and me.]

The sounds of the marionettes groaning and cycling through their orgasms were only amplified in Jacqui’s ears. That and Bai’s wet, deliberate sucking.

[Show me you’re mine, Jacqui.]

Jacqui bit back a groan. “What do you mean?”

[I know you won’t ever say it outright. Out of respect for your captain. I understand that, but I know you to be a man of action rather than words. So show me.]

The lights came back on. Bai hollowed out his mouth and came to a stop.

Jacqui shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Bai came off his cock and took a moment to swallow his spit. Then he stood up and kissed Jacqui with such tenderness, the quartermaster felt his heart actually skip a beat.

“You don’t want to hurt me?”

Jacqui shook his head again, his silver ring lightly brushing along Bai’s lower lip. Bai steadied Jacqui’s head by reaching up and tightening his hand in the roots of his locs.

“Then don’t.” He steadied Jacqui’s lips with a kiss. “You know I trust you.”

Bai drifted back down to kneel on the cushion. This time Jacqui was ready. Eager even. He fumbled at his leather still constricting his waist and peeled it down to his knees so his legs could breathe and spread a little wider.

Stay with me, Jacqui called out when he felt Bai trying to fade from his head. The cool feel of wet grass stayed as he worked his cock past Bai’s lips and over his tongue.

[–mmk!]

Jacqui sensed the ebb and flow of Bai’s reactions as he held his face and found his rhythm in it, his own groans barely a whisper despite all of the charged blood that had rushed straight to his extremities.

Bai’s lashes fluttered out of his control. His gunmetal eyes lolled behind them. And then the lights began to flicker, like a strobe, dancing to the music of the marionettes and the violins and Bai’s patient gagging.

Jacqui began to feel Bai’s presence in a new way in the form of a firm, uneven pulse. He realized it was the beat of his own cock every time it kissed the back of Bai’s throat. The sensation was so hypnotic, Jacqui let go of a shuddering breath and leaned into it.

The strobe lights danced for them, Bai’s reactions registering in Jacqui’s vision only as flickers and flashes. The steady, constant beat of his hips took both of them by storm.

“Bai, I’m coming.”

[Yeah, I know.]

Jacqui was seeing stars. His fingers became tangled up in Bai’s ghostly waves. His hips managed not to jerk too hard, but he couldn’t help anchoring Bai’s face downward so his cock could take advantage of the natural curve of his throat. He opened his hips some more as he emptied out his excitement. Jacqui groaned unexpectedly at the sensation of Bai’s esophagus gently nipping the tip of his cock with each desperate swallow.

Despite his efforts, Bai hadn’t been able to get it all down. While the orchestra was wrapping up and the puppet magicians were packing their things and filing out, Sun Bai was still trying to catch his breath against Jacqui’s leg. Jacqui stroked his hair while Bai leaned his cheek against the quartermaster’s damp thigh and waited until his chest stopped heaving.

Jacqui expected that when Bai was ready, he would tuck Jacqui’s cock back in his pants and go about the rest of his night. But Bai stayed, leaving breathy, half-hearted kisses along his partner’s inner thigh.

This went on for some time, to the point where Jacqui’s already damp skin tingled under the tenderness of Bai’s lips and the light brushing of the soft, dark hair from his chin. All the other guests had left the dark hall.

Jacqui, who wasn’t used to this sort of attention, especially from Bai, called out to him. “Babe, you don’t have to do that.”

“I know that.” Bai shot Jacqui a look before he went back to kissing and sighing against him. Jacqui’s face burned under the prolonged affection. He returned to massaging his fingers against Bai’s scalp, which only earned him more delayed reactions that walked a fine line between an exhale and a whimper.

Finally, Bai helped Jacqui adjust his pants before getting back to his feet. Jacqui walked over to where he had set down the glasses case and handed them off to Bai.

“Thank you. I…” Bai hesitated. “I got a room for us. But if you want to go back to yours–”

“I’m staying with you tonight.”

Bai turned around before Jacqui could catch his reaction. “Alright then. It’s this way.”

Sun Bai’s chambers were sleek and free of the usual masquerade decorations. Without many words, Jacqui and Bai helped each other out of the more restrictive components of their costumes until Bai was just in his silk robe. He brought another robe out of the closet for Jacqui, so he wouldn’t get cold. This one was dark blue, almost black. The swirls of gold painted in the fabric were only visible when they caught the light at certain angles.

“You can keep that,” Bai said just as Jacqui was in the middle of calculating the fortune something like this must have been worth.

Soon they were under the sheets, Jacqui’s back resting against the pillows and the headrest while Bai chose to lay his head on the quartermaster’s chest. With one leg draped over Jacqui’s thigh and his arm resting along his abdomen, Bai encouraged him to let down his bun and massage his darker roots. While Jacqui happily went about doing so, running his fingers through the psychic’s pale locks, Bai spoke quietly about his travels since they had last seen each other.

“We got a cat. He’s gray and likes to ride on my shoulders sometimes.”

“He sounds a lot sweeter than Mr. Pickles,” Jacqui mused. “What’s his name?”

Bai offhandedly flexed his wrist. “Gatsby... Don’t ask me what it means. Sascha named him. Probably has something to do with guns.”

The pirates kept chatting until Jacqui started to yawn.

Bai shifted a little. “Hey. Stay up with me. Don’t let me fall asleep either.”

Jacqui arched an eyebrow. “Why not?”

In all the time they had known each other, Bai had never spent the night. This was also the longest he and Jacqui had spent in a position like this. Cuddling seemed a strange word to use, but Jacqui honestly didn’t know what else to call it.

Bai hesitated. “Because…”

Jacqui held his breath. A few beats later, Bai’s confession came out honest and straightforward.

“Because the last time I fell asleep in someone’s arms, I woke up in a pit of dead bodies.”

Jacqui stiffened ever so slightly, hoping Bai hadn’t noticed.

Bai didn’t turn his head to look back at Jacqui. In fact, he didn’t move at all.

“I was nineteen.”

Jacqui closed his eyes as he dipped his face towards Bai’s crown.

“I won’t let you fall asleep.” He wrapped both arms around Bai and held him as tightly as he could. “I promise.”

Sun Bai let out a very small breath.

[Thank you.]

#the arcana #sun bai the psychic #jacqui the quartermaster #midsummer masquerade #VesuviaAfterDark #death mention #lemon #minors dni #my writing #baiqui

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infinitelytheheartexpands · 3 years

Text

Responses from the Opera Screencaps Captioning Quiz

Hello, everyone, and thank you for taking my quiz! I had SO MUCH fun reading your captions-- there were several times I literally started crying from laughing so hard at the amazingness of your work! With that in mind, the captions (which I will continue to add onto as more people take it):

(also, thank you to @dichterfuerstin for translating the German captions I got)

originally taken from: the Wiener Staatsoper’s 2020 production of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Die Entführung aus dem Serail, featuring Regula Mühlemann (center) as Blonde, Michael Laurenz (right) as Pedrillo, and an unnamed extra (left) as the Grim Reaper

Responses:

(Backstage warm-up) “ok so someone dropped the pulse”

me and my friends watching the fire burn after doing arson

Introducing the polycule to the parents

*boom* ... did...you guys hear that too?

Ma Signor !

Knight in whinging armour gone wrong, look at how he holds the egg. Polyamory with weird knight and death.

the father, son and the holy ghost are very gay

the gays meeting for brunch, 2021, colorized

chicken lady forces death and a very flamboyantly homosexual anthropomorphized pink bird to be parents of her egg (they dont want to be)

That’s just me and my friends on our night out (before covid rip)-- closest

A Good Friday night

good omens (2019)

["the pocket guide to boy/girl/mischief" meme] who's the boy and who's the mischief though????

Papageno and Papagena take their first-born egg trick-or-treating

Angry Birds - The Musical. A pig stole an egg and the bird unites with death to take revenge.

I love my bird wife

Someone got murdered during the funky chicken dance

throuple murders child and steals sibling of said child

When you and your friends have widely different tastes in literature

angel leading twink to his rightful place (hell)

draco malfoy from a very potter musical and a death eater are very much in the wrong show

What have I gotten myself into

Mlm/wlw solidarity but I’m not telling who is who

A woman stands with a pink dipshit with an egg and a reaper.

A bird-couple makes a pact with Death, sacrificing their first-born bird-child in order to bring good luck upon their unborn bird-baby

There are three types of people on Halloween:

Uh oh, I don’t think the mother hen is very happy about this...

oh god, they’ve invented seussical. It’s too early!

gay brunch

Three little maids from school are we

guys maybe if we dress gay enough we can distract everyone from the dead flapper bee in the back

those three killed a duck for her egg and are facing the conswquences.

Duck has egg with human, shocked and upset due to biological impossibility

When you bout to make a banging omelet so you invite your fellow queers

"No mortal man could pass that egg, but heaven shall repair your rectum."

originally taken from: the Salzburg Festival’s 2007 production of Hector Berlioz’s Benvenuto Cellini, featuring Maija Kovalevska (left) as Teresa Balducci, Laurent Naouri (center, in chimney) as Fieramosca, and Burkhard Fritz (right) as Benvenuto Cellini

Responses:

“In this same interlude it doth befall That I, one Snout by name, present a wall; And such a wall, as I would have you think, That had in it a crannied hole or chink, Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby, Did whisper often very secretly. This loam, this rough-cast and this stone doth show That I am that same wall; the truth is so: And this the cranny is, right and sinister, Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.” - a midsummer night’s dream, act v scene 1

"ah yes a prime specimen. see here, right in this box is our one of a kind hob goblin that can be all yours for the low low price of your soul"

what, YOU don't have a special eavesdropping chimney window?

Hänsel und Gretel plotting against the witch

man takes a wrong turn and ends up in a chimney, catches his girlfriend cheating-- closest

when you end up third wheeling the straight couple

lady cheats on her leather jacket wearing scummy boyfriend and when he unexpectedly comes home she hides the lover in the chimney

A straight girl and her gay best friend gossip about stuff idk

Idk Shakespeare?

experimental couples therapy feat. the chimney mf from mary poppins

Area Couple Inadvertently Traps Santa-in-Training in Chimney as they Attempt Rooftop Flirting

Landlords laugh over student renter's misfortune

I never asked for this

Ay yo lil mama lemme whisper in your ear

voyeurist listens to sandy and Danny from grease

Psssst! Did you hear about Susan? You won’t believe it!

lady and the tramp meets beauty and the beast?

human trafficking

And for just $30 you too could have your own tiny brick cage!

Psst I’m wearing assless chaps under this dress

A couple tortures a man in a box.

It's all fun and games being stuck in a chimney until your greasy uncle steals your crush from right above you-- okay ngl this could actually be a great Don Pasquale concept

Taking eavesdropping to the next level

Will you two stop being lovey dovey and let me out? SUMMER LOVIN, HAPPENED SO FAST—

overhearing how people talk about you when they think they're alone puts you in the shithouse

Does he know we can see him?

dear god, i am so fucking hungry, yall please just do whatever heterosexuals do so i can go eat a popsicle

the human version of the trash man from sesame street is realizing that those two are going to fuck on his trash can

Tmw you capture an angry short dude and start trashtalking him where he can hear

Omg what if we kissed but we actually kissed the lil goblin man under us

"Remember, don't feed him after midnight"

originally taken from: the Théâtre de Capitole du Toulouse’s 2017 staging of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s Le prophète, featuring Leonardo Estevez (right, on fake horse) as Le Comte d’Oberthal

Responses:

“When I said we needed to drain the swamp I didn’t think there were people actually living there”

horse? what horse? no sir i dont know what horse youre referring to.

definitely don't have a napoleon complex going on

King stole La Scala‘s Lohengrin set

king breaks all his horses, has to use statue dragged by servants as transportation because he’s too kingly too walk

Emperor Söder and his subjects on a carnival procession

man on horse makes a big deal out of being on a horse

That’s not Zeffirelli because the horse is not alive

Who the fuck put a horse on the stage

isn't this that picture of napoleon on the horse

Area Count Thinks Citizens will be Intimidated by his Extremely Fake-looking Horse Statue-- closest

Everyone wants their turn on the giant plaster horse. Police are there to make sure everyone waits their turn.

Night out with the lads

Local royalty horrified at the state of his own damn kingdom

gay army fights different gay aesthetics-- hi author how does it feel to be the funniest fucking person on this quiz

Well at least I LOOK badass

ceasar if he hadn't gotten stabbed (colourised)

some soldiers jumped out of my kindergarten fairytale collection book to burn the don carlos flemish deputies at the stake

It’s just a model

Is that how you feel pulling up in your Honda Civic, Madge?

Someone rides a horse statue in public.

Just a normal party with the bros.

what is this, some kind of crossover episode?

Terribly sorry for all the fuss, it’s just, that is, my horse is afraid of neck ruffles. I’ve tried to talk to him about it, but he’s—whoaaa there—he said he was a french courtier in a past life and he’s allergic to English fashion

Horse seller, listen to me! I am riding into battle. I need your strongest horse. - We have horses at home. - The horses at home:

All hail Incitatus the king

we are not ripping off shakespeare’s henry viii. what the fuck. this is about lenny xi you uncultured swine, go drown in a pit of your own farts

oh god is that hamilton

Guy Removed From Art Museum For Sitting On Statue, more at eleven

Gay <3

Officer: This horse... is a virgin! Crowd: *cheers*

originally taken from: the Parma Verdi Festival’s 2017 staging of Giuseppe Verdi’s Stiffelio, featuring Maria Katzarava (left) as Lina and Luciano Ganci (right) as Stiffelio

Responses:

That One kid in class

its a mEntAL BreAkDowN *final countdown but kazoo*

*record scratch* yeah, that's me. you're probably wondering how I got here-- closest

Dad keeps monologuing, teenager is done

left: all of my concerned friends, right: my emo ass having a very public mental breakdown

the demons in the corner of my room when im just trying to sleep

lady gets mansplained to (do i need to say more, we've all been there)

It’s probably an area baritone telling off an area soprano-- sorry; it’s a tenor. soprano is right though.

That was a fake horse in the last photo right?

child comes out as gay to father at a particularly bad time

dissociation solves everything

I can't believe it's not butter

Honey we talked about this

My sleep paralysis demon is Crowley from supernatural

child has nightmare of boring job

When you start dating a singer but he won’t stop practicing at night

just an average day in a hetero marriage

what do i do my wife's having period cramps again

Stop having an existential crisis. It’s time to sing!

“No son of mine will kin Gomez Addams under MY roof”

Crowley stares into space while a teen has post nut clarity.

When he wont stop reciting jordan peterson monologues!!

Do you realize how effed you are?

Ugh, not this lecture again! Dad’s Practicing For His Experimental Indie Band Again

asking your parents for help with your own personal situation and them just ranting off about what they went through instead of helping in any way

Will he shut up already!

no one tell him he’s yelling in the wrong direction, no one tell him plnsbdjddhdj

this kid is tired of his dad listening to rush limbaugh (a man who claimed to be pro life but died anyway)

Me internally vs externally

Daddy issues

originally taken from: the Grand Théâtre de Genève’s 2020 staging of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s Les Huguenots, featuring several chorus members

Responses:

It’s the deadly eye Of Poogley-pie. Look away, look away, As you walk by, ‘Cause whoever looks right at it Surely will die. It’s a good thing you didn’t … You did? … Good-bye. - shel Silverstein

why the fuckith? my good sir, i beg of you to put your pants back on

I hate this itchy hat

Titanic Extras hear that they have to do extra hours

people waiting to board the titanic watch someone fall off the plank

pov: you’re a time traveler

guy in the flatcap is embarrassed by patriotism and pathos

No idea. For some reason Le Marseillaise comes to mind

Is this from Harry Potter?

disneyland main street usa workers on strike

local tries to hide behind Newsies cap to avoid unpleasant but inevitable conversations. meanwhile, some very fashionable ladies look on.

"Thank fuck, 2020 was just a dream after all"

“We gather here today because this bitch got exactly what she deserved” “heaven!” “Stfu Stephanie she’s going to hell and we all know it”-- not quite but this basically happens later on in the opera (and act) so yeah (except the person in question very much Did Not Deserve It)

dc movie filter on bridgerton

america?

looks like my history teacher paused the prohibition documentary again

Who still wears page boy hats bro?

Coming out to a room of people who Already Knew That

Bitches are relieved at some party.

Several drunk people exiting getting off the subway attempting to seem sober and rational but realizing they have somehow lost all of their possessions

How tf do I act natural in this situation-- closest

“do you think any of them noticed that I don’t know the pledge of allegiance”

It's too fucking hot outside for this outfit

when hyyh yoonkook ending just hits different

pedestrians watch in horror as the triangle shirtwaist factory burns and the workers throw themselves out of the windows from a dozen stories up

Starting the pledge of allegiance be like

He's having a heart attack oh no oh god oh fuck

originally taken from: if I remember correctly, the Semperoper Dresden’s 2018 semi-staging of Johann Strauss II’s Die Fledermaus, with Jonas Kaufmann as Gabriel von Eisenstein

Responses:

“William Shakespeare wrote: "To thine own self be true And it must follow, as the night the day Thou canst not then be false to any man" I believe this wise statement best applies to a woman A blonde woman Over the past three years she taught me And showed us all That being true to yourself never goes out of style Ladies and gentlemen Our valedictorian: Elle Woods!” - legally blonde the musical

eat ass, suck a dick, and sell drugs

woooooorrrrd

Finally Jonas has graduated! It’s about time, considering he’s an international star.

what my professors think they look like

Prof. Dr. Dr. When someone tells him there are more than two genders

'and since you've now graduated high school, you'll be entering college etc. blablabla' .........meanwhile, there's a whole row of graduates daring each other to chug the cheap vodka one of them has brought in gallons (yes that happened at my graduation, lol)

Jonas darling baby <3-- can’t argue with that

I just realized I have no idea what the actual fuck happens in an opera

ok this one is just what jonas kaufmann always wears you can't fool me.

"as valedictorian i will share with you the importance of loving the floor"

"Yes, mother, my art degree will make me money!"

Graduation speakers are out, singers are in

Senior year takes a new meaninbg

mansplainer professor explains the concept of feminism to women

Your Prof when you finally turn in that missing assignment be like

younger boris johnson (derogatory)

jonas kaufmann retires from opera and takes up motivational speaking

What a fine graduation evening we’re having today

-70 points for slytherin you all have no swag

A man with a college hat sings.

An obviously greying actor trying to play a university student in a low-budget porn parody

How it feels to graduate high school after being held back for years

East High is a place where teachers encouraged us to break the status quo and define ourselves as we choose. Where a jock can cook up a mean crème brûlée, and a brainiac can break it down on the dance floor-

I may not have been "cool" in high school, but in ten years you will all be working for me!

I finally got my GED!

that one guy in ur intro to cultural anthropology class who mansplains to the professor somehow fucking graduated

he;s just graduating and taking his speech too serously idk

Graduation speeches with that one dude who got held back 3 times

Smrt

originally taken from: the Metropolitan Opera’s 2011 staging of Gioachino Rossini’s Le Comte Ory with Joyce DiDonato (left) as Isolier, Diana Damrau (center) as Countess Adèle, and Juan Diego Florez (right) as Le Comte Ory (disguised as a hermit)

Responses:

There is something very [disturbing grunts] About polyamorous couples - polyamorous, Chris Fleming

jinkies

femme fatale (including to herself)

I’ll have a threesome soon !

Hot guy walks by, everyone swoons.

thirdwheeling friend does not realize the other two are having sex

When your girlfriend had „just two beers“ again

jesus is exasperated about having to drag the two ladies towards doing what he needs them to do instead of purple dramatically declaring suicidal intent over the smallest trivial matters and red being equally dramatic about declaring that it's not the way! stay alive! i love you!!

The throuple is thriving

Get off the milf

orgy

my last three braincells because im a horny slut

countess receives too much love and is confused on how to react

Rasputin's lesser known romp with a much older czarina of russia

Woman's soul leaves body

Jesus and co. are worried after another woman gets pregnant without having sex

bisexual looks at photos of celebrity couples

When you go to the party to socialize with new people but your weirdo friend group starts getting clingy

Jesus cumming

one of those weird church christmas pageants but everybody's drunk

What have I done

Hozier??????????

Jesus assfucks some purple lady being hugged.

This time, the chick IS the magnet

An affair/threesome gone awry (2019 colorized)

What do you mean they canceled GLOW?

“I TOLD you it was cashmere!”

Are you wearing the - - The Gucci dress? Yes I am.

It's not what it looks like!

jesus is fucking that one cheerleader who grew up to be a suburban mom with one (1) super cool dress she stole from her kid who is desperately hugging her middle begging for it back because the spring fling is coming up and jason might actually make eye contact with her for more than three seconds.

jesus and mary magdaline and some other bitch

I’m at a bar and these drunk girls are flirting with me, do I lOOK GAY?!

Shrek 5, jesus's return

c. 2025 First attempt of an Officer and his Wife with a Handmaiden (colourized)

just about all of these are close lol

originally taken from: the Bolshoi Theater’s 1993 staging of Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s The Maid of Orléans, featuring Nina Rautio (left) as Joan of Arc and Vyacheslav Pochapsky (right) as Thibaut d’Arc

Responses:

Don’t look, I’m still pooping

yall, the audacity of this man. he fuckin talked to me

*i can't even tell you how wrong you are* *it would be insulting to ME*-- closest

Cospeto!

„No I’m not talking to you, you keep cracking bad jokes!“ - „But I got another!“

when you’re mad at him but he says he’ll buy you food if you cheer up

When I’m wallowing in self-pity but my friends won’t comfort me

right: wanna fuck ;) left: yeah, fuck OFF lmao

Her face is screaming “don’t tell me what to do”

Yeah I got nothing

gay man tries to hit on a lesbian bc he thinks she's a twink. she's not amused but she's watching this happen anyway

me tired of MET's bullshit and them organising a Netrebko, known blackface apologist, a recital during Black History Month. (sorry im still fucking salty lol)

"stop smiling at me like that I'm trying to pout over here"

"I got fleas, you got fleas... wanna fuck?"

I have the best idea!

Haha nooooo don’t hit me with that bat you’re so sexxyy

lesbian is bothered by dilf

Me trying to flirt

if call me by your name was hetero and set in america

how many more dad jokes can i take before i explode

So. You’ve gotten yourself in a little pickle again.

What if we fought in the Russian revolution together ✨???????... unless??

Two people flirt in a poor place of town/

"If you ask me what I've got under this dirty, shapeless tunic one more time I swear to god I will kick your rotting teeth in"

You look like ur gonna kill me but ok

Really? You again?

Okay, I’ve been sitting here for 20 minutes, do you think it’s safe to—oh god, he’s still there.

Have you seen Godot?

she is tired of everyone’s shit. she has done so many derivatives it physically pains her to see a variable. dont test her. ur icarus rn.

idk pick better pictures-- I HAVE DIED THE SHEER AUDACITY AND HUBRIS I LOVE THIS

200% done with your crap

Homeless man has fucking legs of steel n is gonna show off his Russian dance moves

originally taken from: the Théâtre de Capitole du Toulouse’s 2019 staging of Paul Dukas’ Ariane et Barbe-bleue, featuring Sophie Koch (right) as Ariane and I don’t remember who the person on the left is rip me

Responses:

The knight who wore this into battle sure was swaggy

dear god its hiddeous

Capitalism

Knight in shining armour gone even more wrong.

ghost contemplates the safety of spiky motorcycle helmet

„Stop! He feels bullied!“

'this is my newest take for jesus's crucifixion crown ...... what do you mean they already put him up'

That’s probably a really expensive magic helmet idk. IDK-- closest

Omg I love the adventure zone!

minesweeper (windows xp)

"Okay whatever you do don't touch the shiny spiky ball" "It's so shiny I wanna touch it"

Taking down the trash way too late

IT'S NOT A PHASE MOM

Darth Vader got stuck in the freezer.... again. Leia isn’t happy

Star Wars 2030

“And here is the very latest in motorcycle helmet trends” “Look, I only came to the mall for a pair of socks “

futuristic kkk

long-suffering jewelry store attendant really wants to retire

Put it down put it down put it down

“Hmm no you should see a doctor about that”

A weird ass crown is presented

The creation of sars-cov-2: an experimental Eurotrance nightclub art piece gone horribly wrong

How it feels to want something that u cant have

AND WE WILL CALL IT—SPIKE MAN actually do you think that’s too obvious?? Because of the—yeah, because of the spikes?? See, that’s what I’m worried about. I want it to be SCARY

I know it's risky but... lube me up

use the force luke.

that is a weird fleshlight

When you get an ugly gift and need to find a way to get rid of it, so your family member/friend offers to smash it

Touch the orb

originally taken from: the Opera Vlaanderen’s 2019 staging of Fromental Halévy’s La Juive, with Nicole Chevalier (left, with bottle) as Princess Eudoxie, Enea Scala (center, under table) as Prince Léopold, and Roy Cornelius Smith (right) as Éléazar

Responses:

When no one comes to your birthday party :(

fantastic, day 487 of mischief and they have yet to find my masterful hiding spot

i really wonder who he thinks he's playing footsie with

Marriage crisis. Reason sits under the table-- closest but not in the way you think (after all, the man under the table IS a tenor).

the last supper afterparty after jesus left

When you order the last supper on wish

espionage at the Politischer Rosenmontag

Probably the wrong opera but is that Leporello under the table

Now THIS is a Good Friday night

this was every birthday party i went to between the ages of 5 and 11

that awkward moment when you drop your fork under the table but when you re-emerge everyone else has left except one drunk lady and the guy trying to deal with her

After the last supper

Tfw you arrive to the dinner party too early and have to hide until a more fashionable hour

When the cishets aren’t home

waiter hides from customers

Nobody: My dog every time I’m eating:

what's left of the homies Jesus had dinner with

university chem lab experiment gone terribly wrong

I’ve been under the table FOR 30 MINUTES

Set your friends up by tossing them off under the table, they’ll think it’s each other n fall in luv

Someone hids under a table

"You're about to see an surreptitious-under-the-table-dick-sucking master at work"

5 yr old me trying to eat the desert under the table without my parents finding out be like:

They never invite me to their parties!

Just another girl’s night in

Oops! Didn’t notice you the table.

dionysus - bts (2019, colorized)

just a normal episode of eric andre (eric is the one under the table)

Just a normal day with the boys

Thievery

originally taken from: the Théâtre de Capitole du Toulouse’s 2017 staging of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s Le prophète, featuring Kate Aldrich (left, surrounded by women in white) as Fidès and John Osborn (center, looking like a Jesus doppelganger) as Jean de Leyde

Responses:

Hold up, is that Eggman above Jesus?

holy disco

Looks like Tannhäuser. Our lord and saviour Richard Wagner. Now I need to be saved from that.

catholicism

me defending pineapple on pizza (THANK YOU)

jesus but hes about to be abducted by the alien ufo above him

Emmmmmmm Heaven? Idk

Lord of the rings?

ewww christianity gross

"behold, I am Important"

"Seriously?? It's not ACTUALLY pyjama day? Fuck you guys!"

Jesus at the Disco

Jesus Finds The Molerat People Who Live Under Bethlehem

disco is heaven

Want to join my new religion?

the kkk

church christmas pageant where everyone's sober but it's based on the director's fever dream

Am I the only one who sees the giant demon? Just me? Okay...

“Oh god I think I’m starting my period”

A party is held with a priest in the middle

"Let's get this secret Vatican sex party rolling!"

The new avengers endgame set is looking great!!

You know, guys, I try not to be a bother but...I can’t help but feel like I missed a dress code memo for this wedding??? It’s cocktail, right??”

Jesus visits Hogwarts

I must really stink if no one will even come close to me

the extra ass funeral i DESERVE

star wars life day

A cult at it’s best-- closest

Shrek 5, Jesus is still there I guess

originally taken from: the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden’s 2013 staging of Giuseppe Verdi’s Les vêpres siciliennes, featuring Bryan Hymel (left, standing) as Henri, Lianna Haroutounian (center, kneeling in the black gown) as Duchess Hélène, and Erwin Schrott (kneeling to her right) as Jean Procida

Responses:

When the director’s like “great rehearsal guys, just a few notes before I let you go” but it’s already 9:13 and your mom’s waiting in the parking lot

loyalist of subjects

bow before your queen

They forgot to take down the stage boxes after the Vienna opera ball but the show must go on.

somebody forgot to book chairs for this funeral

Me sharing God’s (Hayley koyoko) word on the discord server

mass execution bc the oboe solo sucked ass-- closest

That’s too many black suits I can’t see shit

I can’t even tell what’s going on here

8th grade school assembly about how it's uncool to shit on the walls at school

let's all get fancy so we can go to the opera and sit on the stage (idk this one's hard lol)

"Yes i am a time traveller, now don't freak out"

Tfw you forget to pay your lighting bills

White guys make decisions that will benefit them and screw someone that’s not a white guy over-- OUCH but that is too real (although not really in context here)

dead man gives speech at his own funeral

brotus and the boys ??? last meeting before the stabbing

high society social function ends in mass murder-- right opera, wrong scene

Someone walks into the talent show stage with a dog

Black-dressed bitches worship a man.

Worst school assembly of all time

POV:You're the window in the classroom and someone said "its snowing"

When the conductor shows up fashionably late to the orchestra concert

That's what you get for choosing the cheapest ticket option, get back in the mud where you belong

theyre just trying to jump into a grave at a funeral leabe them alone this is normal

oh my god he really whipped his dick out in front of everyone, this is just like in 1776 guys, except some women are actually in the room this time,

A funeral, stop wearing so much black

I want to slap their bald heads like rice

originally taken from: the Teatro Real Madrid’s 2018 staging of Gaetano Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor, featuring Roberto Tagliavini (right) as Raimondo

Responses:

Crowd “haha!! Looks like someone missed the all-black memo!! Now it’s laugh-in-your-face time! / Guy on the floor (whispering to guy against wall): go, save yourself! I’ll hold them off...”

if i leave now i wont be a witness and can tell the police i had no idea

it was the best of times, it was the worst of times

Guy in the back pretends to help but is to far away to even know what’s going on.

priest walks in on beginning of an orgy, contemplated joining but is too scared-

when someone brings up capitalism but you’re just trying to play minecraft

lol lets trample this guy while the judge isnt looking

Again. Too many black costumes

Loved this Dostoevsky novel

i would know if opera directors were more creative with clothing choices ngl

me on parties lol

"imma just sneak out of here while everyone else is distracted"

"Where did he get this flooring!? Amazing!"

Everyone act normal!

The tell tale heart but they got REALLY drunk

man tposes to ward off vampires after being caught undercover

boys ???? night

the priest really shouldn't have visited the insane asylum-- closest

He’s FINE everyone’s been hit by a car before

Something happens in a room.

Perks of being a wallflower

There's always that one person in the fight whos trying not to get involved when they really wanna

Oh good, they’re all posing for a Rembrandt painting, I can just sneeeeaaak out the back here...

The gamer livestreaming Resident Evil + everyone watching the stream ? waiting for him to open the door just knowing it will trigger a chase scene

Quick!

the guy t posing in the back is regretting his every decision.-- also accurate

the us senate jumps ted cruz, some other wack ass gop senator is trying to sneak away

...I spoke too soon, however this is a James Bond mission

Queers help fellow queer do math but it's a struggle

#opera #opera tag #results #screencaps #captions #caption #caption this #caption contest #this seems to have gone over well and I am Pleased

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fae-fucker · 2 years

Text

Review: Stolen Thorn Bride by Kenley Davidson

Can a stubborn farm girl steal the heart of an elf king who has sworn never to love again? After a century of war, the elves of Abreia are losing hope. Their greatest defender—Dechlan, king of the Northwatch—lies near death, and only a soul bond with a human bride can save him. The problem? No humans have set foot on elven lands for over a hundred years. Kasia is no stranger to the fight for survival—she’s spent her life in the far northern reaches of Garimore, struggling to provide for her three siblings. When she’s captured by a trio of beautiful but terrifying elven warriors, her only thought is to return home, until they inform her she must marry their king… or be put to death. Both Kasia and Dechlan are reluctant to accept their unwanted bond, until the elves’ ancient enemy rises up to threaten both their worlds. Kasia might just be the key to ending the war, but only if she is willing to sacrifice the life she’s always known. And only if Dechlan is willing to risk losing the bride he never expected, but is no longer certain he can live without.

The seventh short novel in the Stolen Brides of the Fae series. We’re almost at the end, gang!

After the emotional journey of rage and despair that was Threadwitch Bride, I was ready for the worst, and was pleasantly surprised. It may have colored my perception of this book, but let’s get on with it, shall we?

This book has similar elements to previous Stolen Bride books: Kasia is a farmer-adjacent peasant girl who needs to take care of young siblings, she’s plucky and spunky and blonde, and she also has secret hidden magic that she wants to suppress. Meanwhile, Dechlan is not a fae, he’s very specifically an elf (the fae exist in this world and are mentioned as separate entities), and he’s not the elf king, but rather an elf king, as there are several lesser kingdoms under one, even fancier king, who’s actually in charge of the kidnapping. Meaning the hero doesn’t even do the stealing this time, but that’s in the blurb at least.

So it’s a plucky human farm girl and a broody elf king. Sounds pretty generic, right? And it is! But this book is an example for why I defend clichés and tropes: when they’re done well, they’re fun and good!

Kasia is honestly a delight. Meg from Midsummer Bride wishes she was Kasia, and while I can’t exactly pinpoint why they’re different to me, I think it’s narrative agency. Meg was plucky but went with the flow, Kasia takes control of the plot and affects it directly. Even though she is lured into the elf lands, she doesn’t let herself be pushed around, and I was actually surprised and impressed with how she bossed the elves around despite thinking she had no power.

Like, there’s something very compelling about a female character who, despite thinking she’s powerless and below all these pretty and prim elves, still doesn’t let herself be mistreated. In fact, she even purposefully provokes and gets on their nerves at several points. You can easily see why Dechlan fell in love with her, because she verbally bitchslaps people into obedience and we love to see it! She also doesn’t get a billion descriptions of how ugly but gorgeous she is, and she canonically is physically strong and has actual muscles from all the manual labor she does. I also loved how honest she was? While there was the obligatory third act misunderstanding/miscommunication, I was genuinely surprised when she straight up told Dechlan that she didn’t want to involve herself with him because she might fall in love with him, and she didn’t want to do so because then she’d be in the shadow of his lost lover, and if she were to love him she’d want all of his heart for herself. Like, that’s genuinely a baller move, and she says it so simply and it just hits, ya know?

Dechlan himself is just a depressed bastard. He comes off as cranky and sad, and though he’s not as fun to read as Kasia, I’m okay with him being a support character to her journey. While he does get his own little arc of letting go his first love, it’s not suuuuper impactful and could’ve used more time. I was honestly pleased there wasn’t as much emphasis on their physical differences and how strong and sexy and domineering Dechlan is, because he just wasn’t. He’s kind of a sick sad sack for the most time, which was refreshing. Like yes he was still hot, because this is a romance novel, but there weren’t uncomfortable Disney levels of sexual dimorphism going on and no weird implied sexual dynamics with “claiming” and all that shit. (Also yes, a few of the other books in the series are indeed guilty of this, despite being “clean.” I guess nothing’s so clean that we can’t sneak in some ill-fitting fetish stuff in right?)

There’s also the -- at this point obligatory -- animal sidekick, Aral, who’s a big ol’ spooky doggo. And for once I actually quite enjoyed the sidekick, he wasn’t overly peppy or cute and Kasia had a genuine connection with him that felt real. It didn’t feel like something that was shoved in there for the sake of it, the wolf felt like a natural part of the world that Kasia just bonded with.

See? You can do simple things and clichés well!

The main flaw of the book is probably the length, again. I would’ve loved to see more of these leads and give them more time to develop. The falling in love itself was pretty quick, but I enjoyed them together and it felt realistic that they’d fall in love eventually, Kasia kicks too much ass to not get a hot elf husband, so I wasn’t super miffed about the speed of it.

At first I also thought the ending was a bit of a copout, but after giving it some thought I think it worked just for how bittersweet it was and it made enough sense that I accepted it and came away from the book feeling satisfied and happy that I read it.

So yeah! This one is an easy four stars. It’s not groundbreaking, but it has a genuinely fun and active heroine, an appropriately brooding hero, a fun doggo sidekick and a cute soulmate love story with a magic-y backdrop. If you’re into this sort of thing, this could be an easy breezy afternoon read!

I still don’t know what the thorn in Thorn Bride refers to, though. I guess the Hedge dividing the human lands from the elf ones? Idk.

#eff reads: stolen brides of the fae #book review

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addicted2escapism · 4 years

Text

Young Love | JJ Maybank

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: You’re a Kook with parents that want to control your future. You need a fake date to get them off your back at Midsummers, and JJ seems like the perfect option.

Warnings: None

“You do realize who you’re asking, right?”

“Yes, JJ, I do realize. I need a date for midsummers or my parents are going to try to force me into some arranged marriage like it’s the freakin’… 1700s or something!” You complain, taking your hands off the steering wheel to throw them up in the air dramatically.

You’d scooped JJ up from the Southside, your new Audi SUV turning heads as you drove around The Cut looking for him. Typically, you didn’t like to drive yourself down to the Southside for this exact reason, but this was important and you needed to find JJ as soon as possible.

Now, he sat spewed out in your car, one leg up on the dashboard with his arm hanging out the window.

“And you think your parents would let you marry me?” The boy snorts, looking at you with a bemused expression.

“Ok, not actual marriage! I just need to show that I’m in a relationship so that my parents don’t try to secure my future for me.” You explain, putting on your turn signal and taking a third right in a row. You were driving around aimlessly.

“Once again, I don’t think your parents will accept me as your boyfriend.” JJ argues, waving a hand at himself to allude to his general appearance. “You should ask Pope.”

“I’ll fight for you!” Your outburst startles even yourself. You blink. “I mean- you can’t seriously think I’d just let my parents shit talk you. Besides, they’re practically oblivious to The Cut and everyone on it, so they don’t know anything about you. Please, JJ.”

“You really want me to be your fake boyfriend?” He asks, softness permeating his voice. You look over to see that he’s already looking at you.

“Yes. Who else would I ask?” It wasn’t really a question. You smile at him, and he returns it with an eye roll.

“You’re gonna dress me up, aren’t you?”

You grin.

“Yeah. And I’m gonna enjoy every second it!”

—

JJ looked… handsome. Undeniably and unconditionally handsome. You watched as he walked from The Chateau to your car. You’d seen the outfit before, as you were the one to take him shopping, but seeing him all made up was different. JJ was wearing a sober blue suit with a black dress shirt underneath. His dress shoes were also black, from some fancy Italian brand that you’d thought looked nice. When you were at the store, you had let him pick out a couple of ties because apparently he needed to see what type of mood he’d be in on the day of the party. He’d chosen the dark blue tie with metallic silver embroidery in a floral pattern.

You didn’t realize you were staring and sporting an idiotic grin on your face until JJ hopped into the car and called you out on it.

“Sorry.” You chuckle, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You just look very… nice.”

The compliment makes him smile back, and you try not blush when he looks you up and down and says: “You look very… nice, too.”

You make a face at the way he copies your pattern of speech, turning away from him and putting the car into drive.

“Time to party with some Kooks!” JJ cheers, banging on your dashboard in fake excitement.

“Please, contain your elation.” You tease, speeding down the road to head back to Figure Eight. “You’ll need to save some of it for when we get fed to the sharks.”

—

When you pulled up to the Midsummer party, JJ jumped out of the car and ran around to your side, opening the door for you before you had a chance to object. He graciously offered you his hand, and you accepted, letting him lead you up to the front door. After giving your name to the security guard standing at the door, the floodgates opened.

The moment you and JJ crossed the threshold together, young and old Kooks alike couldn’t take their eyes off you. You smiled sweetly at them as you made your way through the large dining room, noting the way they looked JJ up and down before their eyes flickered back to you.

“Why is everyone looking at us like that?” JJ murmurs lowly, only audible to you. He smiles at a grandma that had been staring for an uncomfortable amount of time.

“We walked in together.” You say simply, leading him to a door that will hopefully let the two of you escape into the backyard. “It’s kind of a big deal.”

You don’t want to explain that such a simple action of walking into a party with someone could mean so much. You don’t want to explain that because of such an action, everyone knows that you and JJ are together, that you are his, and he is yours. That everyone expects you to be tied together forever. But for the sake of getting your parents off your back, such an action was exactly what you needed. They were already here, somewhere in the crowd, and if they hadn’t seen you walk in, word would travel fast. It always did with Kooks.

“You laying claim to me, or something?” JJ raises an eyebrow at you, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist as you exit into the backyard. You laugh, beelining for the hors d'oeuvres.

“Or something.”

JJ’s eyes light up at the sight of free food, and you nod at him when he glances at you questioningly. He grabs a small plate and starts loading up, making a quiet, interested noise when he comes across something new. Your heart swells with intense fondness for the boy, your fake boyfriend, and his endearing behavior. You take a few items to snack on as well, and then you both make your way to a standing table.

You’re glad that you could take JJ somewhere and provide him with something to eat. You knew he usually lived off whatever he could come by. At the same time, you didn’t want to think that you were doing him a favor or something. You just wanted the best for him, and if you could make sure he didn’t go hungry for a little longer, you would.

You let him eat, looking out for your parents or any teenaged Kooks that would undoubtedly recognize JJ and cause trouble.

“Oh man, I’ll go to all of your Kook events if I can get free food like this.” JJ sighs in satisfaction, taking a deep breath and then popping his last hors d'oeuvre into his mouth.

“Well, as my boyfriend, you’re more than welcome to all of them.” You say matter-of-factly, eyes still scanning the crowd. JJ stays silent, an unusual attribute that makes you look at him curiously. His eyes are wide, and he looks panicked in a way that usually ends in him bolting from the situation.

“Uh, fake boyfriend.” You correct, awkwardly scratching behind your ear. “I know you’re not into the whole… commitment thing.”

Your words make his eyebrows furrow, but it only takes a moment for his face to smooth out and be replaced with a smirk.

“You know it, baby.” His usual energy wasn’t in his words, but he links his arm with yours and starts towards the group of people on the dance floor. “Shall we dance? I think it’s time to subject these beautiful people to my impeccable moves.”

“Oh, the horror!” A malicious voice taunts from behind. You sigh, clenching your jaw and putting on a brave face for the altercation that was about to come. You and JJ turn around to face Topper, who was backed up by Rafe and Kelce.

“Hi, Topper.” Your sharp tone of voice cuts through the growing tension. “Do you need something?”

“Oh, I’m just here, enjoying my time at Midsummers, when I suddenly see a Pogue infesting our land.” Topper smiles nastily.

“He’s my date. I invited him.” You defend, unlinking your arm from JJ’s to grab his hand instead. “He’s my boyfriend.”

The three Kooks were incapable of suppressing the surprise on their faces.

“Damn!” Topper cracks his knuckles, looking between you and JJ. “I knew you’d been whoring around with them, but I didn’t think you’d actually commit to one!”

JJ throws himself at Topper with an incredible reaction time, and you’ve never been more glad to be holding hands with someone in your life. Topper raises his arms in defense and shoves JJ back, and you follow up by tugging on his hand to rein him in.

“You don’t wanna be doing that, boy.” Topper snarls. Rafe and Kelce are subtly squaring up, ready to assist their friend if need be.

“Don’t talk about her that way.” JJ grinds out through his teeth. You try to pull him backwards so that he’s standing behind you, but he won’t budge. You can tell he’s boiling on the inside from the strength of which he’s gripping your hand. You squeeze back, trying to give him some sort of grounding force.

“Control your pet.” Rafe snarks at you, not even bothering to address JJ himself.

“Shut up.” You clenched your hand that wasn’t in JJ’s into a fist. This wasn’t the place to get into a fight. You knew that JJ wouldn’t think twice about practically letting himself get jumped to defend you. Plus, your parents would never stop hounding you if your brand new boyfriend got into a beat down at Midsummers.

“Aw, young love. So sweet.” Topper tilts his head to the side and smirks. “Do you love him?”

You can feel JJ hold his breath.

“Yes.” You say it with such conviction, without even thinking. JJ is staring at you incredulously. Topper is sputtering, Rafe looks disgusted, and Kelce seems like he’d rather be anywhere else. You hold your confident gaze on Topper and his friends, staring them down as you take a few steps backwards, pulling JJ with you. “Thanks for your concern.”

When they don’t seem to have anything else to say, you turn around and march over to the dance floor.

JJ looks like a deer in headlights, completely out of it as you maneuver into the middle of the crowd, trying to hide from prying eyes. You turn to face him, hooking your arms around his neck and swaying him side to side in a weak attempt to make it look like you’re actually trying to dance.

“Are you okay?” You whisper, wanting to keep the conversation away from any overextended Kook ears. “I’m sorry about them. At least it didn’t get too bad, right?”

“Did you mean it?” JJ sounds like he’s practically choking on the words. He tentatively reaches up and places his hands on your hips. You swallow nervously. JJ’s eyes are red and pooling with liquid, and the way his lips are twisted into a frown shows how hard he’s trying not to let any tears escape.

“I- yeah. I did.” Suddenly everyone else in the crowd disappears. It’s only you and him. There might as well be a spotlight beaming down, making the sea of Kooks you were swimming in insignificant. Your words feel like a confession and a revelation. You laugh softly in happiness. “I do. I love you.”

“Can I kiss you?” His voice cracks and he brings a hand up to softly touch your cheek. You nod. He leans down and connects your lips tenderly, as if he’s afraid you’ll run away if he kisses you with any more force. You smile against his mouth and return the kiss, hands tangling in his hair. When he pulls away, he whispers: “There’s no way this is real.”

“You better believe it, mister.” You confirm, pressing your forehead against his. “You’re in for a lifetime of Kook parties, now.”

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #outer banks netflix #my writing #gem writes

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averykedavra · 3 years

Note

75. With whoever honestly (I definitely could see Patton saying it to Roman to make him laugh tho)

(~ im-an-anxious-wreck)

(Hi! Sorry for the delay, @im-an-anxious-wreck, I needed to do some school!)

Words: 1840

It was rare for Patton and Roman to get a moment to themselves. With the school play coming up, they were thrust into the busy bustling of a play almost finished. Every costume had to be perfect. Every movement had to be aligned. Every line needed to be accented, every light on at the correct time--it was a whirlwind of rehearsals and preparations.

Roman loved it, of course. He loved every moment of every play their high school put on. But it certainly got tiring, and it kept him rehearsing long after school was over, until the sky was dark outside.

He must have repeated his lines ten times just today. If he heard ‘start from the top again,’ he might faint, and he was beginning to resent every inch of the school stage. He kicked it in irritation. It didn’t budge. The stage waits for no one, he’d been told, but he wished it would wait a few more days and give them time.

He’d barely gotten a moment with Patton all week.

That was the only reason he’d agreed to this. Everyone was already gone, bundled in coats and tucking scripts against their chests. The stage was empty and the lights glowed yellow, so bright that Roman could see the dust spiraling in each beam, so bright that he could barely make out a single seat in the audience.

Next week, he’d be up here, saying his lines to the whole school. Slightly to the left of center stage, then cross downstage, then gesture to the right.

Roman looked down at the pamphlet in his hand. Midsummer Night’s Dream. Or it would have been, if he hadn’t folded it backwards.

“Crap!” Roman said, unfolding the pamphlet and trying again. “Why are these so hard?”

“It’s just fold, fold, and then fold back over!” Patton showed him. “Easy.”

“Easy for you, darling.” Roman fumbled his way through the pamphlet. “Who was supposed to do this again?”

“Us,” Patton said with a smile. “We did sign up.”

“Hmph,” Roman said, flattening the edge of the pamphlet. “That’s because you’re a sweetheart and can’t say no to anyone.”

“It’s the nice thing to do!” Patton’s eyes widened in the way they always did, cute and pleading and a bit teasing. “Who else is going to? We need pamphlets.”

“Just don’t hand any out,” Roman suggested. “No names. No plot summary. People can go into this play and figure out what’s happening for themselves, like real audience members.”

Patton giggled as he placed a folded pamphlet on the pile. All his pamphlets were perfectly folded. Of course they were--when was Roman’s boyfriend anything less than perfect? “It’s a Shakespeare play anyway,” Patton said. “I think they all know what happens.”

“Fair,” Roman admitted, trying not to cut his fingers on the edge of his pamphlet. He wished he could reach out and hold Patton’s hand. But he was busy. Even when it was just the two of them, they were busy. Roman was a bit tired of that. “Stupid pamphlets, though.”

Patton gave him a sympathetic look. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to--”

“No, no, I am valiant! Brave! Noble!” Roman pressed a hand to his forehead. “I shall persevere through this struggle, for peasants are in need of my gifts!”

Patton giggled. Success!

“We can make it more interesting for you, though,” Patton suggested after a second, fingers dancing nimbly over the pamphlets. “Maybe you could run lines?”

Roman groaned loudly. “Not more lines.”

“Aw, isn’t it more fun when I’m here?” Patton grinned at him. “Just suggesting! To make this worth your while.”

“Fine,” Roman said, and Patton squealed. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I am!” Patton agreed.

Roman tried not to splutter. He stared fixedly at his pamphlets as his face grew hot. “You were saying?”

“Practice your lines!” Patton said. “What’s a scene you want to work on?”

“None of them,” Roman said, truthfully.

Patton fixed him with a look.

Roman sighed. “Act Two, Scene One. The fairies kept forgetting their blocking and we barely made it to my part of the scene.”

“Okay!” Patton looked around for his script book. He fumbled with it and pulled it out. “Sorry, I’m gonna need this for any scene with no Theseus.”

“It’s okay!” Roman waited for Patton to finish. Patton flipped through several pages, still pulling at the pamphlets with his other hand. Roman poked at some pamphlets himself. There were entirely too many of them. Maybe he should have guilted some of their classmates into staying behind, too.

“Here?” Patton asked. “‘Ill met by moonlight’?”

“Yep!” Roman stretched and looked out into the audience. Nobody was there, except for their stage director bustling around backstage. It was less stressful when nobody could see him, but it was stranger, to be the only person in the room. Patton and him, single spotlight.

“I’ll be Titania,” Patton said. “You can practice being Oberon.”

“Great.” Roman turned to face Patton again. “Go?”

Patton nodded, twin afro puffs glowing in the stage lights.

“Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania,” Roman began, trying to deepen his voice a bit. He couldn’t do his perfected stance--feet slightly apart, shoulders back--but he could still pretend he was a snooty fairie king.

“What--” Patton blinked at the script and looked up. Then, in a nasally voice, he said “What, jealous Oberon? Fairies, skip hence: I have forsworn--”

“Wh--” Roman snickered. “Patton, what is that voice?”

“What?” Patton said, batting his eyelashes innocently. “I’m acting! Anyway--” He cleared his throat and dipped back into his faux-Elizabethan falsetto. “I have forsworn his bed and company.”

Roman laughed, covering his mouth. “That’s not--”

“What?” Patton said again, giggling.

“Why are you doing that voice?” Roman asked. “You know how to act, dear!”

“I’m trying to distinguish this one from Theseus,” Patton said. “I have to go all high up!”

“No, you don’t!” Roman laughed harder. “Nobody’s going to think that Oberon is flirting with Theseus.”

“Oh, is thy humours unaligned?” Patton said, in the same nasally voice, somehow even more posh and oddly British. “Art thou irritated at me, oh wise one, havest thou irritation at me--”

“No!” Roman leaned back, trying to stop laughing. “No, no, that is so wrong.”

Patton pouted. “It is?”

“Yes!” Roman let his head hit the stage. He stared into the lights, laughing. “You know how to do this, honey, don’t mess with me.”

“I was just trying to make it more interesting,” Patton said. “I don’t even like this scene. Oberon’s a jerk.”

“He is,” Roman admitted. “But I don’t think any Shakespeare characters aren’t. Or, at least, the men.”

“Oberon tries to steal a baby!”

“Like I said.” Roman sighed. “Contrary to what I believed at first, Shakespeare is rather messed up. The words are still pretty, though.”

“They are.” Patton cleared his throat. “Then I must be thy lady, but--”

Roman started laughing again. Patton just sounded ridiculous. After a few seconds, Patton laughed, too, and dropped the script on the ground.

“You’re adorable,” Roman told the ceiling.

“You aren’t even looking at me.”

“Don’t need to.” Roman swung upright and held out his hands, framing Patton’s face. “See? Knew it!”

Patton giggled and looked away. He did look adorable. The golden light glanced off his glasses and gleamed on his nose, and reflected something deep in his brown eyes. Roman would be happy to just sit here and look at his boyfriend for hours--goodness knew he hadn’t had the chance for a while.

Roman looked down at the pamphlets. Right.

“You’re going to distract me,” he teased. “And we’ll never get this done. So much for running lines.”

“Yeah, I know.” Patton let out a breath. “Just figured--oh, I don’t know, I just wanted to make things easier on you. You’ve been so harried by the play all week. I thought giving you more time to practice would make you feel better.”

"You--” Roman blinked. “Oh.”

Patton gave the pamphlets a small smile. He’d started to fold them again, easily, fold-fold-and-fold-over-top. “I just want you to be excited for this. Not scared or stressed.”

“Oh,” Roman said again. “I am excited.”

“I know!”

“No, I seriously am!” Roman laughed a bit. “It’s all been a blur, and I’m definitely filled with adrenaline, but I’m not stressed about it. It’s going to be fine! I’ve practiced my lines enough to recite them in my sleep.” He smiled softer. “And I’ve got you there on stage with me. It’ll be okay.”

Patton laughed and rubbed at his cheeks. “You’re making me all flustered! I don’t think we even have a scene together.”

“Yeah, but you’re backstage most of the time!” Roman raised an arm and twirled it. “I do my beautiful, spellbinding acting, then I go backstage to the most beautiful and spellbinding person I know!”

Patton squeaked.

“And yeah, I’ve been a bit stressed,” Roman admitted, letting his arm fall. “But that’s just because I’ve missed you. We’ve barely had any time to hang out--which is fine, I just...yeah, I’m looking forward to when we can be together again.”

Patton’s eyes widened in his classic you’re so cute expression. He didn’t even have to say it. Roman cursed his blushing cheeks as he tried to hide his face.

“You’re so cute,” Patton said. Roman blushed harder. “And sweet, and I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner!”

“No, it’s okay!” Roman shrugged, still trying to force down his blush. “We were both busy. I get it.”

“Yeah.” Patton looked down at the pamphlets, glossy in the light, then back at Roman. “And it’s worth it. But--I miss you, too.”

Roman smiled at him.

Patton smiled back. “So, what do you want to do now?”

“What?”

“We can talk about anything,” Patton said, waving a hand. “Or we can go peek at the costumes, or dance around onstage--tons of things!”

“What?” Roman said again. “But--the pamphlets--”

“Can wait!” Patton beamed and folded one pamphlet. “It’s easy, see? Fold-fold-fold? I’ll get them in no time, we can take a break or two.”

Roman found himself grinning brighter than the stage lights. “Really?”

“Of course!”

“Fantastic!” Roman jumped up and extended a hand. Patton took it, and Roman pulled him to his feet. They stood there for a second. The stage lights were always uncomfortably hot, but Roman couldn’t tell if that was why he felt warm. Maybe it was just Patton’s hand in his.

Patton looked beautiful, on the stage, in front of the world. Absolutely beautiful. Pretty words and beautiful sentiment.

Who needed Shakespeare, fake accent or not?

Roman had really missed this.

“So,” Roman said, “want to practice blocking? I think you start out center stage--”

He tugged Patton to center stage. Patton giggled and stumbled to a stop, and Roman caught him, arms around his waist.

“And then you go downstage, upstage, all around!” Roman squeezed his hand. “Wanna practice?”

Patton beamed back. “Sure.”

And Patton was right--with his boyfriend around, Roman didn’t mind practicing at all.

Give me a prompt, and I’ll write a short drabble!

#royality #patton sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #high school au #long post #asks and answers #im-an-anxious-wreck #averywrites #yeahh this did not turn out as a drabble either rip #not super super short but here i am!

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talesofphantombandits · 4 years

Text

JJ One Shot ~ Always Believe in you.

So this is my second time writing this Intro and the last part of this story because while I went off for one second to find a photo to use, my tab decided to refresh. So I lost everything.

NOT HAPPY.

Here we go again. So I just finished Outer Banks, AMAZING. Must say the first few episodes I struggled with but then when I got on episode 4 that’s when I started really getting into it and from then on I was hooked. At the start my first impression of JJ was ‘dam this dude is so handsome’ then it turned into ‘Jesus this boy has issues’ and ended with ‘OMG PROTECT THAT BABY AT ALL COSTS’ So yeah......

There might be a second part with these two, I had another idea for another scene. But we shall see how this one does first.

Pairing: JJ x Reader. Warnings: Mild language.

Summary: Y/N was forced by her parents to go to Italy to see some family, the only hitch her phone was taken off her after landing and put in a safe so she couldn’t talk to anyone back home. Safe to say your parents didn’t approve of you dating JJ and hanging out with the rest of the crew. Seen as they only told you this after landing, snatching the phone right out of your hands at the airport you didn’t have time to tell them you wouldn’t be able to communicate, they probably thought you’d forgotten them. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what JJ though. Safe to say he wasn’t very forthcoming when you saw him again.

(I will look over this tomorrow for mistakes, I’m just so angry right now that it was ready to post and then It didn’t save. So sorry if there is mistakes)

I’d been in Italy for the past few months, my family had decided that sometime away would be good for all of us.

I hadn’t had any communication with the guys during the stay in Italy, which meant JJ too. I’d been cut off, “They were bad for you.” That’s what my dad told me but I loved them they were what true friends, true family was made of. It had broken my heart to leave JJ alone he’s been through hell and still going through it, but it was a little relief to know that he had John B, Kiara and Pope looking out for him.

We were coming home for the Midsummer's party, It happens every year but my family insist on being there. To ‘keep up appearances’ they just wanted to keep their social status.

We arrived back home at about 7am, the only thing on my mind was raced up to my bedroom to take a nap. God I were exhausted, what I really wanted was to go straight to see the guys but that was impossible my parents weren’t letting me out of their sight.

I woke up about 4pm and decided now would be a good time to take a shower and get ready for the party. I knew that Kiara would be there so that gave me a sense of hope and motivation to look my best. I picked out a dark green velvet dress, deciding to do some darker makeup and curly my short shoulder length hair. When I was satisfied with the look, I got the black platform heels out of the bottom of my closet and sat on my bed while strapping them.

“Hey you ready?” Mum stood at the bedroom door putting in her earrings.

“Yeah, as I’ll ever be.” I sighed rolling my eyes, I got up from my bed, heading to the door.

“You behave tonight.” My dad passed a kiss to the top of mums head on his way pasted, pointing his finger at me.

“No promises.” I said under my breath.

Walking down the stairs I waited in the front room on my phone until everyone was ready to leave. My mind wondered to JJ, I wondered what he’d been up to and how he was coping with his father. My eyes started to brim with tears, I felt so bad leaving him without no contact but it was hardly my fault. I’d feel better when I could finally escape and see him.

Arriving at the party the first person I saw was Kiara looking extremely bored, sipping her drink leaning on the wooden railing outside.

“KIE!” I screamed, running as fast as my heels would take me.

“AHHH! Y/N!!!!” She screamed back and held her arms open wide.

She gave me a bone crushing hug. “God I’ve missed you!” I whispered in her ear.

“Me too! why didn’t you call or text? We were all starting to worry that you were never coming back!” We, we were starting to worry. I gave her a sad look.

“Yeah about that, I was cut off.” She looked at me sympathetically. “They locked my phone away, said I needed to keep away from you guys.”

“You better tell that to JJ when you see him.”

“What, why?” I said confused.

“He erm kind of thinks you’re ignoring us, and abandoned him.” She said looking at the ground.

“Why would he think that? I said breathlessly. The thought of JJ thinking I abandoned him broke me.

She just shrugs. “Who knows what’s going on in that head of his. We tried to tell him that it was probably your parents stopping you but.” She gestured off.

“He doesn’t listen.” We both chuckled softly.

“I’m glad you’re back, I know you’ll be able to sort it out with him. I’m glad you can be here to help me cope with this party.” She smiled sweetly at me patting her hand on my bare shoulder.

“Me too.” I smiled back as we went to sort out drinks for ourselves.

A few hours had past and Kiara told me that her and Sarah had sorted their differences out, that they were now friends now. I was very surprised at first but happy because that meant that there would be no awkwardness when I started dancing with Sarah and her sister on the dance floor.

This was the happiest I’d felt in a while, just dancing and loosing myself in the music.

Just then a arm came over my shoulder, I looked at it then at Sarah who stood in front of me confused. She inspected the note in the hand. “From Vlad.” I knew that voice! Sarah took the note, smiling into it and rushing off.

I turned to come face to face with JJ. He was wearing smart black pants, a crisp white top and a strange coloured bow tie. He stared me dumbfounded, I looked down to his chest.

“That bow tie is horrible.” My eyes snapped to his face as he scoffed at me. When I finally studied his face I could tell he wasn’t happy, and I finally noticed the scratches all over his cheeks and the bust lip that looked all swollen.

My smile fell. “ JJ your face, what happened.” I raised my hand to cup his cheek but he slapped it away. I looked at him shocked, It wasn’t violent but there was enough force in it to make me flinch.

He looked angry now, he step backwards then shook his head and turned to leave.

“JJ!” I stepped to follow him but my dad caught my arm, pulling me to go chat with his friends.

“Y/N I want you to meet someone.” My dad introduced me to a tall dark haired preppy boy, he looked my age. He also looked very familiar.

“Hi.” I said uninterested, my mind still on JJ but mainly the state his face was in.

“I’ll let you two talk, you both have a lot in common.” That snapped me out of the daze at the words of my father, was he seriously trying to set me up with this tool? and how did he know what likes I had, I don’t think he knew me at all.

I looked up to the guy next to me, he was smirking down at me. It made me feel sick.

“Look sorry to disappoint.” I patted him on the shoulder. “But I’m already seeing someone.”

I went to walk away but he called out. “That’s not what your dad says, So either you’re lying to me to get me to go away. Or you’re dating someone daddy wouldn’t approve of.”

I turned giving him an unimpressed face. “What’s your name?”

“Rafe.” I scoffed.

“As in Sarah’s brother?” He just nodded at me enthusiastically. I just laughed. “Yeah no chance in hell.”

I walked off to find Kiara.

___________

I was speaking with Kiara and her family when JJ frantically entered the room being pushed around by a security guard, he was screaming and shouting. Me and Kiara just looked at each other concerned.

“What the hell.” I whispered under my breath. “Hey! Let go of him.”

The security guard didn’t let up and pushed him further towards the porch.

“It’s okay everybody, do not panic leave it to the men and women in uniform.” Everyone had slowly turned to look at who was making and fuss. Me and Kiara had slowly started to move towards the centre of the room.

“What is he doing?” I said to Kie.

“I have no idea.” She looked at me concerned.

“You can’t just boot him!” Kiara shouted to the guard.

“I invited him here.” I said. JJ turned to look at me but rolled his eyes, deciding to focus on Kiara instead.

I looked at him then turned slowly to look at Kie. Both our parents where telling us to back down and shut up, but we weren’t going to take that.

Suddenly he’d pushed the guard away and turned back to Kiara. “Hey, mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Kie.”

He didn’t even look my way.

“Pope, you as well. All right?” He turned to leave off the porch still shouting at Kie and Pope to follow him.

Kie grabbed my hand, I looked around confused but decided that JJ probably wouldn’t want me to follow. I told her I couldn’t, she stopped dead for a bit looking at me sadly. Her mother and father started tugging at her so she had to get away leaving me standing there staring at them all run off happily into the distance. I sighed and decided to leave, clear my head.

“I’m going for a walk.” My parents tried to get me to stay but fat chance that was happening, I didn’t want to be at this stupid party in the first place.

___________

I just let my feet lead me, I must have been walking Idly until I stopped at the smell of burning wood. I looked up to find my feet had carried me to John B’s house, If the others where going to be anyway they were going to be here. I sighed deep and prepared myself for the argument that I didn’t want to have but it was killing me that I had been home less than a few hours and I hadn’t touched JJ yet.

I walked around to the back where the smell was richer now, I looked to the left to find all four of my friends by the campfire. I walked over trying to think of something to say when a twig snapped under my heels.

They all turned quickly to look at me. “Y/N!! You’re back! why did no one tell me she was back.” John B rushed to me and tackled me into a hug.

Least someones happy that I’m back. He carried me in our hug the short distance to the fire and set me down beside Pope, who already had his arms outstretched for a hug. I just smiled at him and gave in.

“We’ve missed you! how come you didn’t call?” John B patted my thigh.

I tucked my hair behind my ear. “Yeah about that-”

“What are you doing here?” I’d only heard the cold tone JJ was using when he talked about his dad. I never knew one day it would be directed at me. “I thought you’d get the message not to follow us when I didn’t call your name at the party.”

“JJ.” Kie warned.

“What is wrong with you?” I could feel the lump forming in my throat. “I’m going to explain everything.”

“I don’t want to hear it.” He stared at me with such malice, a sharp pain shot through my chest.

I stared at him but his face just seemed to harden more. Finally I broke contact when I felt the first tear fall.

“Fine.” I said quietly, I hoped no one would hear the crack in my voice. Luckily it was dark enough that I hoped no one noticed the tear flowing down my cheek.

I got up and walked away without a word. I heard Kie call JJ a dumb ass as I turned the corner. When I got back to the road I bent over, my hands on my knees trying to catch my breath. Tears were free flowing now, I looked down both directions of the road. I could go home or go to my secret spot on the beach.

I decided that the beach would probably be best, I could cry it out and regain myself then go back home like everything was okay.

_________

I’d finally calmed myself down when I heard someone climbing up the dune to my right. What I wasn’t expecting was to see JJ’s face pop up.

“Hey.” I said quietly, a massive contrast from earlier.

I just stayed silent, looking straight ahead to watch the moon reflect off the surface of the water. It always looked so beautiful and calming to me, that’s why I came out here when I was mad or upset.

He came and sat next to me but not too close.

“I’m a jerk I know.” I just scoffed.

“That’s a big understatement.” I’d stopped crying a while ago but I could still feel the breeze making the tear stains cold.

“Kie told me.” I could see him mindlessly playing with the sand. “I should have heard you out, I’m sorry.” He dipped his head low.

I sighed deeply, the marks on his face are obviously a sign that his dad had beaten him again. they where fresh as well. I wanted to be so mad at the way he treated me but I just couldn’t bring myself to be mad anymore.

I turned to look at him and reached for his hand. “What happened to your face JJ.” I whispered as if not to startle him.

“My dad.” He sniffed and interlocked our fingers. I turned to fully face him, putting our hands on my lap.

“Me and Pope did something stupid, Pope was going to get arrested for it but I couldn’t let that happen. He has a scholarship to look forward to, and a future I don’t. So I took the fall for both of us.” He looked at me now, tears brimming in his own eyes. “Dad came to bail me out, then proceeded to beat the shit out of me in the car.”

I shut my eyes, my lip quivered. When I opened them his tears had began to fall. I scooted towards him cupping his face and wiping away the tears pooling on his cheeks.

“Hey, It’s okay. I’m here.” He leaned forward in to me and put his face in my neck. He started sobbing now, I could feel the wetness on my collarbone.

All I could do was sooth him and rub his back.

When he’d calmed I lifted him to sit up straight. “You never have to hide from me JJ, I’ll be here supporting you forever.”

He just smiled reaching up to turn strands of hair from my face that the breeze had blown everywhere.

“What would I do without you?” He leaned in, I met him half way. Our lips met in a sweet kiss. “Now that’s how I should have greeted you at the party.” He smiled closing his eyes to savour the moment, leaning our foreheads together.

“Would have been a better greeting.” I just laughed.

I grabbed his hands and pulled him up with me, Slowly making my way down the dune. “Where are we going? You’re not going to kill me are you?”

“Maybe.” I said absentmindedly, he stopped short dragging me back until I crashed into his chest.

“Ouch, why’d you stop.” I looked up at him.

He looked down at me dumbfounded. “You just told me you’re taking me to murder me.”

I huffed. “Babe, it was a joke. I just want to walk along the beach, at the edge of the waves with you.” laughing at him now with his cute little pout.

He leaned over me, snatching my heels out of my hand. “lets go then.”

The silence was beautiful, it was dark and the only sounds were waves crashing against each other. This had always been my favourite past time with JJ, this is when the boy who had the most chaotic energy was the most calm. I thought it was a simple treasure that only I got to see this side of him, let alone that I was the only one that could bring out this calm in him.

He stopped again, but this time he hugged me from behind. His head leaned on top of mine as we just took in the sea and the moon.

Things were definitely going to get worse before they got better, little did I know just how bad they’d get.

#outer banks #JJ #outer banks x reader #JJ x reader #JJ one shot #outer banks one shot #John B #pope #Kiara #Sarah

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absentsdream · 3 years

Text

* you know rina benton-moa, right? they’re twenty-four, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, their whole life on and off? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to reinvent by phoebe green like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole fury encased by the reflection of daylight in the eyes; lines etched into skin from lifetimes over of squinting into midsummer skies, odd trinkets lined carelessly along a mantlepiece shrouded by aged dust, a split in the lip lancing keenly as the tongue darts out to wet it thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is july 15th, so they’re a cancer, which is unsurprising, all things considered.

hi i’m cee .. u all know me...... regrettably gone for a cutla weeks but now i’m back ready n waiting to finally write rina (rip to their intro i never wrote last time around) kisses u all so tenderly let us plot shall we.......

AESTHETICS.

a weather-worn baseball cap ( jacksonville jazz festival 1983 ) adorned with dried sweat akin to the rings of saturn that collects dust on the back seat of a car, neglected piles of unopened government letters spilling from a haphazard tower onto the floor, a moth-eaten cotton shirt, johnny cash at four a.m. on the jukebox hits radio station, hand me down trainers marred by crowsfoot grass stains, dollar store candy older than your own existence, blinking grocery store fluorescent lights, the acrid scent of tyres set aflame.

CHARA INSPO.

frankie ( animal kingdom ), theo ( catherine house ), libby bray ( dark places ), frances ( conversations with friends ), ruth ( ozark ), tommy ( never let me go )

BACKGROUND.

lilac ridge’s newest, unwelcome baby for 1997. rina’s mother is gone before they have the chance to memorise a voice, the touch of a hand on their fever-ridden forehead. she forever remains in old polaroids - their parents look happy here, sun-blushed and clutching amber bottles of schlitz. their dad tries and tries, often in a futile effort, to be the parent an unruly rina needs. that old woman in the trailer next to them hates the saturday morning cartoons that they play too loud: she says the catdog theme loops in her sleep, now.

TW NEGLECT despite the one or two friends rina manages to keep, school isn’t lonely. it’s lilac ridge that’s hollow, an ugly reflection of the way their father returns wordlessly to the chair found on hard rubbish collection day once, gesturing for a drink and waving them out of the trailer as he lights a cigarette. he doesn’t say he’s lonely. they’re too young to understand, or too foolhardy, and spends the afternoon fashioning bracelets from creek reeds until the cicadas quiet and the evening sky turns imperial violet, led back by constellations. some nights, rina isn’t there but in the alien comfort of a tentative friend’s trundle bed, eyes fixed on the owl nightlight and stereo that emits a soft tick as it reaches the end of a 4kids cd. TW END

the trailer is often empty without warning. rina’s in fernandina beach, florida one month. the next two, it is macon, georgia. the louisiana dirge for a friend of a friend of a friend’s funeral holds their attention better than any maths teacher can. to make friends is hard, but money is money and it puts food on the table. rina becomes used to tucking away their life in a tattered rucksack. prized possessions are rare. when they find one, it makes a home at the very bottom of their bag, cushioned by old newspaper and a spare pair of socks.

one tepid night, rina wakes to a clear desert sky wheeling above them. in the front seat, knees cramped under a too-thin blanket, their father is nowhere to be found in the street emptied by midnight. without keys the radio doesn’t start. for hours, they wait in silence for him to return. he does, eventually, fifty dollars short and reeking of beer.

TW DEATH live and let die — an eighty-cent find from a gas station in texas that exists permanently under a layer of dust some time in the nineties, the garish yellow sticker stubbornly remains on the back window of her father’s car. it’s not a day after his funeral that she peels it off. cirrhosis and failing lungs, they say. the more stubborn parts of the sticker come away easily by the blade of a pocket knife and sat on the bottom cinder block step to the now-empty trailer back at lilac ridge, rina sets it alight. the sticker melts and warps above the flame. heat stings the pad of their thumb that grips to the top of it for as long as they can bear it and the melted bits stick to the hem of the navy dress the old lady next door lent them for the day. she asks if they need anything else. they say no. TW END

at sixteen, nobody has impeccable financing. rina doesn’t leave irving until after graduating high school, sustenance made off cup noodles that they microwave despite the label saying not to, a quick buck made to sit the SAT for that quarterback who thinks he’s hot shit, yale material, for the mousy girl who likes literature written by dead people exclusively and scrunches her nose up at rina’s rates, upfront, but pushes across the seventy bucks anyway. the school’s careers counsellor catches them eventually - you could make it into an ivy league if you applied yourself a bit more. rina’s brow quirks. their grades are fine, more than fine. what else do they need to do?

on blind faith alone — a rarity, perhaps something rina let free after the hideous, lonely last two years — hands that never quiver submit college applications. pre-med at dartmouth awaits, but two years in the structure and demand wigs them out. lilac ridge is the glue trap dangling from the ceiling and rina is the fly, buzzing relentlessly. they are nothing, just as they suspected.

TRAITS & QUIRKS.

dumbass sun, fuckwit moon, muppet rising

unofficial mensa member with zero motivation. self-help books won’t work, neither will a stern word from an exasperated mentor

at their core, all seems numb. rina is nowhere close to understanding themselves. really, there’s a stubbornness that makes them reliable, even at the worst of times. a warmth, too, not a raging flame but embers that never go cold. hands which caress despite the bruised knuckles and nail bitten fingertips. outwardly, rina’s personality depends on whichever standout film or book antihero has their attention at the time.

petty criminal and relegated to dead-end jobs because of it. it’s rare for a boss to re-hire them, simply because their habit of up and leaving town without warning is too expensive and too frustrating

refused bail once for being a flight risk on account of their propensity to disappear into a louisiana bayou

although rina has never breathed a word of it to anyone, they’re desperate to scrape together enough money to leave for new zealand and track down their mother’s family, if only for the prospect of a better life than thier father’s derelict trailer, the only inheritance received from him

absolute parasite :/

julian assange apologist. took up skateboarding after the infamous ecuadorian embassy footage came on the news one evening

on that note, rina hacks for a spot of extra money. cites their resume for it, so they’re reliable. it consists of them hacking into the irving mayor’s website once and photoshopping che guevara onto the face of every councillor

WANTED PLOTS.

ummmmm

a childhood friend, particularly one whose house rina ended up staying at far longer than planned on account of concerned parents

rina’s natural enemy whose own rigid academics competed against their disorganisation and confounding, cherry red a+’s. bonus: debate club rivals

literally anything. i’ll take it. gimme

#irvingintro #:P #tw alcoholism -#tw death -#tw neglect -

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whitetrashjj · 4 years

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This is kind of a random thought but I loved your jiara hc’s so much last week and I was curious your thoughts on Kiara’s parents and the Pogues? Like do you think they’ll ever expect that they’re her friends and be okay with it? Especially JJ because obviously I’m hoping they eventually get together and then her parents would have to get used to him as her bf not only her best friend?

Okay, I’m so happy you sent this ask! Kiara’s parents and their relationships with and opinions of the boys is something I think about a lot, for the purpose of fic and just in general canon. I would love to explore their approval of JJ and jiara in a fic sometime, I’m thinking 5 times they didn’t approve and the one time they realised that he’s good for her, but that’s for another time.

Okay, so unfortunately we got very limited backstory for Kie and her family - I hope they get more fleshed out in season 2 but who knows, for know we can only speculate and fill in blanks. This is probably gonna get long…

Now I’d say it’s pretty clear that the Carrera’s are ‘rich’ in the eye’s of the Pogues but are still not considered ‘full kook’ and are still slight outcasts to that side of the island. We infer this from Anna and Kie’s conversation about how hard they had to work to be invited to become members to the island club, and I’m guessing also contributes to Kie having ‘a foot in both worlds’.

It seems that Anna is from a Kook background, saying to Kie that she want’s her to have the same experiences she had as a kid. But she has clearly been cast out of that world at some point, my guess? Because she married Kie’s dad, clearly they have had to work hard to get their money, The Wreck seeming to be they way they have got to this point of being almost kooks. In episode 3 Kie’s dad worries about money, suggesting that even though they have it, it isn’t a given and they don’t have piles of family money to fall back on.

Anna marries Kie’s dad, someone without status, from the cut, a black man. So now with no money, and let’s say maybe cut off from her rich parents they have to rebuilt their lives and make it back to what Anna is used too, and give their daughter a better life and opportunities. That’s my analysis anyway.

I don’t think Kie’s parents are bad parent’s, I think Kie’s mum especially get misrepresented in fic’s, I can understand that for plot reasons so I won’t get into it. But they seem like a close family, with good relationships, but they want a good life for Kie, a better life than being a Pogue which is why they want her to go to the kook academy, to midsummers, they want her to mix with the right people, and open up the opportunities for her future.

That brings us to their opinions of the Pogues and their motivations behind them. Let’s look at the interactions we have between the Carrera’s and the Pogues shall we?

‘I don’t really know what her parent’s think of us.’ Is John B’s assessment of the situation. I take that to mean that he parents aren’t outwardly hateful or disrespectful for the boys. Don’t show a complete detest for them. Of course they mustn’t fall over them either but it means that in general they are quite neutral about them, if not, at least civil.

Then we have the ‘you hang out with trash you get dirty’ line. Now look at this from Kie’s dad’s perspective, he wants a better life for his daughter and he has to pick her up from the police station because of John B. There is probably that aspect of worry because Kie is a woc and has the potential of having a much harder time running in with the law than John B. He’s not happy but still bails John B out because he cares about Kie and the fact that he is her friend and I guess probably feels a level of sympathy for John B. The hate isn’t necessarily at John B as a person, just more what his friendship could mean for his daughter.

The scene at The Wreck show’s Kie’s relationship her dad, they seem close and happy and I really liked seeing it, I thought it was cute. Her dad expresses his resistance to her friendship with the boys and brings up his desire for her to have better friends, again, a better life, better opportunities, keeping out of trouble. But Kie insists that they are her friends, and he relents because he loves his daughter, and does ultimately care about her happiness.

Midsummers is the final straw for the Carrera’s. They are going to an island club event, they are part of the kook society, Kie is in a dress and mingling with the right people. And then the Pogues come, JJ is getting kicked out by security, they cause a scene and pretty much prove that they are a bad influence for Kie and not the sort of people she should be hanging out with. They declare she can’t hang out with them any more, she ignores them and runs off. They have tolerated them to this point, but having their family associated with the boy’s who crashed the party is obviously going to be bad for their reputation and effect their chances of being accepted into, or back into, the fold of the privileged.

The interaction between JJ and Anna outside The Wreck intrigues me. The way JJ calls her ‘Miss Anna’, while still be respectful seems a lot more casual and affectionate, like they have a somewhat good relationship. Anna seems worried about Kie and the situation but not nesicassriljy mad she’s with JJ or helping John B, just that she’s putting herself in danger. I don’t know, take that as you will.

Lastly, we she the Carrera’s rush in and comfort Kie when John B ‘dies’, this again shows the closeness of their family. Show’s that even though he wasn’t their first choice for her friends, they understand what he meant to her, and don’t want her to hurt.

All in all, I don’t think her parents hate the boys as people, they just wish Kie would have friends who could influence her and help her get the life they want for her, but ultimately as long as she’s safe they are happy with Kie being happy.

To answer your first question. Do you think they’ll ever expect that they’re her friends and be okay with it? I think in a lot of ways they have accepted it but I can’t see them ever stopping trying to get her to hang around kooks a lot more.

I think having Sarah as her friend again might give them some peace of mind, but that also depends on where Sarah stands in the social hierarchy when she returns. I do think with John B gone, and also when he returns, they will lay off her a bit, seeing how much she is hurting and knowing she needs her friends. That being said I can also see them going in the other direction, forbidding her from seeing JJ and Pope because two of them have already got themselves killed.

Now, let's get into the good bit. Jiara. You know I’ve been thinking about this a lot. When you compare the Pogues in the eyes of a parent, JJ is probably the worst option. Pope comes from a respected family, is smart and has ambitions, well behaved, polite and sensible. John B while still a Pogue, seems like he does well in school, at least until his dad went missing, in general is sweet and well presented, someone who you could take home to the parents no problem. JJ is, well, JJ. He smokes weed all the time, runs in with the law, is about as lower class as they come, with a bad family name and not much hope for the future. Say the Carrera’s suspect Kie is dating one of the boys, JJ would be the last one they would want.

But JJ is what they get. So above I speculated on Kie’s parents most likely being a kook/pogue relationship, so here we have history repeating itself. The question is, does this make her parents, particularly Anna, more or less accepting of the relationship. Anna know’s what it’s like to fall for a boy that your parents might not approve of, that is lower class and seen as less than. So I can see her making the effort to accept it, knowing Kie is happy. As I’ve said Kie being happy is a big deal for them. But I can also see it making Anna less inclined to accept it because she had to give up everything and then claw her way back, and she doesn’t want that for Kie.

The thing is, Kie will not be told no, she is very independent and stubborn and if she decided she wanted JJ, that’s that, nothing else matters to her. It matters to JJ though, because he already doesn’t feel good enough for Kie and with her parents thinking it too it probably makes he even more insecure. I can see him wanting to break up with her because of it. He tries to and she tells him no, and to get over it, and probably angrily tells him she loves him for the first time.

So then JJ is having to go out of his way to prove that he is good for Kie, and will treat her right. He comes over for dinner and tries to be all polite and respectful, Pope coaches him on how to act. He end’s up messing up somehow and it ends up being a really awkward night. But they don’t give up, he keeps showing up to things and I think slowly her parent’s will start to see how good they are together, that he treats her right and they come around.

Tl;dr They want a good life for Kie, and they think that will come with money and good connections, which of course that will make it easier, but all in all they want her to be happy and if she’s happy with JJ, with the Pogues, then that’s good enough for them

#this might be a mess #idk im tired #kiara carrera #jiara #obx #outer banks #anon #lara answers

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bisexualkramer · 4 years

Text

Hi! I participated in @pilesofnonsense‘s 2020 Rusty Quill Big Bang this year, and I’m so excited to share my fic with all of you!

I’d like to thank @aibari for betaing this monstrosity and @cthulu-time for making a REALLY COOL ART PIECE FOR THE FIC LIKE HOLY SHIT IT’S AWESOME!! It was such a pleasure to work with both of them!

Hope y’all enjoy it!

The End of All Things - A Magnus Archives Lord of the Rings AU

Part One: Fellowship

Part Two: Towers

Part Three: King

Summer had come to the Shire at last. The green grass was soft underfoot, as gentle as the breeze that danced through the air, bringing with it the scent of wildflowers and tilled earth. The skies were blue and filled with clouds that drifted lazily about. Children wove daisy crowns and danced through the streets in preparation for the midsummer holiday. The old dozed; the young worked; everything was peaceful and good.

Not that Jonathan Sims would have known. His summer habits were no different than his winter ones. He awoke before the sun rose—quite the feat, in those long days of summer—and trudged down the lane to the Shire’s old archives, where he dutifully toiled until after the sun had set. The only variation in his routine was the thickness of his jacket and the presence or lack of an old woolen hat, a gift from his gardener that had kept him from catching his death of cold for at least the past three winters. Jon, bless him, had never thanked the man for it, but he was still willing to wear it, and that was quite enough for Martin Blackwood.

On the eve of the midsummer feast, Jonathan was down in the archive basement again, digging through a waterlogged box of paper and finding the documents that needed to be replaced. The head archivist, Gertrude Robinson, sat beside him, dutifully copying down an old deed that had been damaged in a spring flood. They worked in a quiet tandem, satisfied with the comfortable silence that came from years of friendship.

Jon had been very young when his parents had died in a boating accident. His grandmother hadn’t been keen on raising another child, but there had been no one else to take him. He’d grown up a lonely child in the country, kept company only by books, until his grandmother had died, leaving him her house. He’d sold it immediately and moved to the Shire, and his job application to the town archive had been accepted within a week. He’d been working there ever since, though he’d only become one of Gertrude’s close assistants in the last couple of years. Still, the two got on like a house on fire, and Jon liked to think that Gertrude would ask him to take over when she eventually retired.

A knock at the door brought Jon out of his thoughts. A young man stepped in, his blonde hair falling down around his cheeks in ringlet curls that made even Jon jealous. He handed a sheaf of paper over to Gertrude with a smile.

“Thank you, Michael,” she said. Michael Shelley had only been working in the archives for a few months. He had a bad habit of leaving his red cardigan in the archives. Jon was beginning to suspect he was doing it on purpose, if only because of—

“Hey, guys?” asked a voice from the back. “I’ve found another one with water damage. Where are we putting it?”

“Bring it here,” said Jon resignedly.

Gerry Delano was a short, broad-shouldered hobbit with badly-dyed black hair that hung in greasy strings around his face. He had a permanent scowl that occasionally lifted into a smirk. Every time he spoke to Michael, Michael would erupt into nervous, grating laughter, which did little to improve Jon’s mood but seemed to make Gerry much cheerier.

Jon hated working with them.

Gerry dropped the box in front of them and exaggeratedly wiped the sweat off his brow. He met Michael’s eye and smirked. Michael giggled. Jon tried very hard not to roll his eyes.

“Right,” said Gerry. “Think I’m off for today. Anyone fancy the Green Dragon for a half-pint?”

“Oh, ah, that sounds fun,” said Michael. “Uh, would either of you care to join us?”

Jon scowled, but Gertrude shoved at his arm. “Go have fun,” she said. “I’m expecting a visitor soon. I don’t need you moping down here next to me.”

“But the deeds—” Jon began, only to be hauled to his feet by Gerry in a feat of strength that stole the words from his throat.

“None of that,” said Gerry. “C’mon. Besides, I think your boy’s usually there on Fridays.”

“My what?” Jon scoffed, but he was already being firmly escorted out the door.

“Lord,” said Gertrude. “Youth is wasted on the wrong people.”

...

The Green Dragon was always lively around the end of the week, but it was even more so before holidays. Gerry crept to the bar for drinks and brought them back to the table, cursing as he set them down.

“Nearly lost one,” he said, passing them around. “Anyway, cheers to another year in the archives.”

“Cheers,” said the rest of them absently.

Jon peered around the room as Gerry and Michael began to flirt rather obnoxiously. He felt his stomach drop as he accidentally met eyes with Martin from across the room. Martin’s expression brightened, and he began to head toward the table. Jon tried not to scowl.

The truth of the matter was, Jon had spent a very, very long time hating Martin. Martin had apparently been the gardener at Bag End since before the previous inhabitant had left (very mysteriously, and no one in town would say anything about it—there were rumors that he had been close with Gertrude, but she refused to say anything about it). Jon kept him on because his rates were good and it felt like the right thing to do, and not because he had often heard Martin chatting quietly with the bees while he worked, oblivious to Jon’s watchful eye on the other side of the kitchen window. As Martin approached, Jon quickly realized that the only remaining seat was the one next to him. He tried to ignore it when Martin’s leg brushed very lightly against his own, but couldn’t quite manage to get it out of his head.

“All right, Martin?” Gerry asked, giving him a smile.

Martin blushed a bit at the attention, which made Jon want to commit murder, or possibly arson. “I’m all right,” he said. “And you?”

The two of them struck up a friendly conversation, which they roped Michael into fairly quickly. Jon buried his face in his drink for a while before finally allowing Michael to draw him in with a well-aimed question about the old books he’d found in his home when he moved, which led to several hours of debate over the whereabouts of the mysterious owner, and then a conversation about Michael’s sister, who had sold the property, and then the state of the small library in Hobbiton, and soon Jon found himself ranting about the properties of various waxes for almost a quarter of an hour.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly when he realized no one had stopped him.

“No,” said Martin, his face flush with alcohol. “No, it was interesting. It was really interesting.”

“Christ,” said Gerry. “Right. I think I’m done for tonight.” He glanced at Michael. “Care to walk me home?”

Michael stuttered a response and pulled on his sweater, leaving Jon and Martin sitting beside each other.

“Well,” said Jon, just as Martin said “Anyway…”

“Oh,” said Jon.

“Sorry,” said Martin. “I mean, uh, go ahead.”

“No, no, it’s all right,” Jon stuttered. “You first.”

“Right,” said Martin. “Uh, I was just going to say it was getting late. Maybe we should go.”

Jon stared at him blankly for a moment before the words made it past his ears and into his head. “Oh, yes,” said Jon. “Of course. Yes.”

“Unless you don’t want to…?”

“No, it’s really fine. Absolutely fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Jon tried not to let too much annoyance creep into his voice as he said “Yes, Martin. I’m quite sure.” From the look on Martin’s face, he was fairly certain he had failed.

“Right,” said Martin. “Um… I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“Yes,” said Jon. “Tomorrow.”

“Okay. Night, then.”

Jon gave him a thin smile. “Good night, Martin.”

The walk home was colder than Jon had expected. He wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly wishing he had brought a jacket to the archives that morning. The night sky was clear and star-filled, broken only by the slightest sliver of the moon. As he walked, a small group of fireflies flitted through the bushes by the side of the lane.

He passed by the archives on the way home. The lamps inside were still lit, and Jon could hear hushed voices from within. Never one to miss a chance to eavesdrop, he slowed his step and quieted his breathing, listening with all his might.

“… power grows ever stronger,” said Gertrude. “I’ve felt its draw for the last thirty years. I think soon I shall have to leave it behind.”

“I just hope we’re wrong,” said a familiar voice that Jon hadn’t heard in years. A silhouette appeared in the window, wearing a pointed wizard’s hat. Forgetting himself, Jon flung open the door with a smile.

“Sasha!”

She whirled toward him, her dark hair whipping out as she did. “Jon!”

Gertrude looked rather grumpy to have been interrupted, but Sasha’s eyes were full of delight. She wrapped Jon in a tight embrace, laughing all the while.

“It’s good to see you again, old friend,” she said. “I was going to stop by in the morning. I wasn’t sure if you were asleep.”

“Gerry and Michael dragged me out,” said Jon. Sasha’s face lit up at the mention of Michael’s name.

“I’m glad they’re getting you out of this dusty basement,” she said. “Don’t want you withering away down here, eh?” Her glasses and her many rings glinted mischievously in the lamplight.

Gertrude glanced at him over her reading spectacles. “I’m sorry to interrupt the reunion,” she said, “but I really do think we need to continue this discussion, Sasha.”

“All right, all right,” said Sasha. “Listen, Jon, I’ll talk to you at the festival tomorrow, yeah?”

“Very well,” said Jon. “I’m very glad to see you again.”

“I’m glad, too,” she said. “Take care of yourself, Jon.”

Jon turned to leave, then glanced back at Sasha. As she glanced at Gertrude, her smile vanished, and Jon’s heart filled unexpectedly with fear.

...

The midsummer festival was a full day and night of merrymaking, complete with the finest ales and pipeweeds that could be found in the Shire. People baked for days to prepare enough pies and pastries for the whole community. Everything was shared at the festival, from food to old stories. Even Jon, for all his curmudgeonly ways, could admit that it was a rather wonderful day.

A flowery banner had been erected across the entrance to old Eric Delano’s field, where they’d held the festival in memory of his late wife for the past ten years. (Gerry tended to complain about it, if you could get him drunk enough to recount the tales of his childhood with her—apparently, she’d been rather cruel, and he didn’t feel she deserved such a nice party.) Jon arrived in the early afternoon, far later than most of the Shire, as large crowds tended to make him nervous. It wasn’t long before he was accosted by Martin, who was camped in a corner, sipping at his ale.

“Oh, Jon!” he said, nearly knocking it over. “Hi! Nice to see you here.”

“Hello, Martin,” said Jon. He cast about awkwardly for something to say, landing on, “Uh, are you having fun?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Martin. “I was just helping set up this morning, and then I’ve been sort of running around with everything. D’you need anything?”

“No, thank you, Martin,” said Jon. “I was just, ah, going to see Sasha. Have you seen her or Gertrude, by any chance?”

“Uh, no,” said Martin. “D’you think they’re just running late?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping you would have seen them. I’ll ask around.”

“Okay,” said Martin. “Um, you’re here to stay, right?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, good! Because, you know, I was thinking we could get a drink—uh, with Michael and Gerry, I mean, and maybe Sasha, not just the two of us, haha, if that’s okay?”

“Yes, Martin,” Jon said distractedly, still searching the crowd for Gertrude and Sasha. “I’ll be seeing you.” He turned and began to shove through the crowd of hobbits once more.

He didn’t make it far. There was a large booth on the northern border of the property, near where he had come in, that sold beautiful pastries topped with intricate spiral designs. There were two people manning that booth. One was Michael, who was chatting with old Eric Delano by the fence. The other was his sister, Helen, who was handing out sweets to anyone who walked by with a smile and a nod.

Michael and Helen didn’t look very similar at all. In fact, they weren’t siblings by blood; their parents had married when the two were nearly twenty, and they’d instantly started to bicker like any other siblings. Contrary to Michael’s fair skin and hair, Helen’s skin was dark, and her hair was a deep black. The only similarity between the two was their hair. Both had hair that curled in tight coils around their heads. Michael kept his back in a ponytail with a fair bit of effort and oil; Helen let hers grow out around her head, leaving her with a spiral halo that could be quite disorienting if you looked at it for too long.

“Jon!” she shouted, waving him over. “Jon, over here!”

Jon rolled his eyes but made his way over to the stall. He and Helen had a somewhat tumultuous relationship; she enjoyed teasing him (though Jon likely would have said “torturing him), and he tolerated her jabs with the best humor he could muster on any given day. Often, this meant that he stormed away fuming, followed by her very distinctive cackle of victory.

It was as good a friendship as any, he supposed.

“Hi, Jon,” said Helen cheerfully when Jon arrived at her stall. “Here, try a hot cross bun.” She shoved the pastry at him forcefully and laughed when he took it and instantly swore at just how hot it was.

“Hello, Helen,” said Jon. “Have you seen Sasha?”

Helen pouted. “Don’t want to stay and talk to me, Jon? How very rude!”

Jon rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that. I’ll come back later, if you like. I just need to speak with Sasha.”

Helen’s pout didn’t disappear, but she pointed a long, slender finger toward an innocuous tent that was hidden behind the many barrels of ale that had been prepared for that evening. “I saw her setting up in there,” she said. “I think it’s her fireworks, but I’m not sure. She didn’t even stop and say hello.”

“Right,” said Jon. “Well, I’ll be seeing you.”

He made his way quickly to Sasha’s firework tent, shoving through the crowds until he was able to duck inside. Sasha was there, thank heavens—Jon was just about ready to leave the party entirely if he had to talk to one more person.

“Jon!” said Sasha as she fiddled with the fuse of a long, red rocket. “I was looking for you earlier, but I couldn’t find you anywhere. Where have you been?”

Jon sighed. “Socializing,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain.

Sasha laughed. “Oh, come on,” she said. “You love it.”

Jon rolled his eyes, but he let his expression soften. “So what brings you back to the Shire?”

Sasha’s smile faded slightly around her eyes, which Jon noted and tucked away. “I needed to talk to Gertrude,” she said. “And I thought it would be nice to see everyone again. You know I miss you all when I’m on my travels.”

“Ah, your mysterious voyages,” said Jon. “Any chance we’ll get to hear some stories tonight?”

“Perhaps,” said Sasha, waggling her eyebrows.

“Speaking of Gertrude,” said Jon, “I should probably go and find her. I haven’t seen her all day.”

“Really?” Sasha asked. “She said she was planning on showing up early. Apparently, her and Eric had a bit of a fight last week, and she said she wanted to apologize before the festival really kicked off.”

“A fight?” Jon asked. “What about?”

“I don’t know. You know they haven’t been as close since Eric left the archives,” she said. “And he hasn’t been the same since the whole Mary thing, or since he lost his eyes.”

Jon hummed. “I’ll ask around, see if anyone’s seen her,” he said. “When are the fireworks?”

“Just after sundown,” said Sasha with a sparkle in her eye. “You won’t want to miss them.”

“No, I won’t,” Jon agreed. He glanced up at her. “I’ve missed you, too, you know.”

Sasha’s smile grew. “Oh, Jon!” she said, and she threw her arms around him. Jon squawked in protest as he was smothered by her flowing wizardly robes, but Sasha paid him no mind. She squeezed his shoulders tightly. “I know how hard that was for you to admit—”

“I am capable of talking about my feelings, you know.”

“—and I want you to know that I’m very, very glad to have you as a friend.”

Jon laughed, then pulled away, trying to extricate himself from a truly ridiculous amount of fabric. “All right, all right,” he said. “I’m going to go and find Gertrude. I’ll meet up with you later.”

“Go on and have fun. And, hey, try not to cause any trouble.”

Jon scoffed. “I do not cause trouble.”

“Sure, you don’t. Enjoy the party! Have some of Helen’s pastries. They’re delicious.”

Jon made his way out of the tent and back into the midst of the festivities. The sun burned in the sky, and the air was humid and heavy. Most of the party-goers had retreated to the relative shade of the small copse of trees in the northeast corner. Jon spotted Gerry sitting there with old Fiona Law, who was regaling a small group of children with a fairy tale that seemed to have put Gerry halfway to sleep.

“Gerard,” said Jon as he approached, “have you seen Gertrude?”

Gerry shook his head sleepily. “Figured she was with you,” he said. “She must have gotten caught up in the archives. Want me to go and look?”

“No, don’t trouble yourself,” said Jon. “I’m sure she’ll show up eventually.”

“Mm-hmm,” said Gerry. He closed his eyes once more. Jon left him to his nap.

It seemed the whole Shire had fallen into the afternoon daze. Jon took it upon himself to clean up some of the mess while everyone around him slept, then decided he could return to the archives and do some work before the fireworks that night. He doubted anyone would notice him leaving, sleepy as they all were.

When he reached the garden gate, a horrible, wriggling sort of sound brought him to a stop. He glanced around, looking for its source, and settled his gaze on a ball of silver worms that were intertwined so tightly with each other that they almost looked like one creature. Normally, Jon didn’t have a problem with worms–only spiders were enough to set him shivering–but something about the worms seemed wrong, reminding him of rot and decay and illness rather than good soil and the smell of summer. He suppressed a sudden bout of nausea and carefully stepped past them, keeping his distance as best he could.

Hobbiton was largely abandoned, as everyone was at the party. The sun had settled into that lazy mid-afternoon place where everything looked a bit like a dream. Jon brushed away a bit of sweat and then paused, hearing the wriggling sound once more. There were more of those silvery worms in the soil beside the main road, though not in nearly so high a concentration as the ones by Delano’s farm. Jon hurried on.

As he rounded the last corner, he heard something that made his heart drop in his chest: a panicked scream, coming from inside the archives.

Jon ran down the lane toward the scream. As he ran, he accidentally squashed a few silver worms underfoot. The sensation of their segmented bodies bursting against his toes made him shudder, but he did not slow his speed. He flung open the heavy wooden doors to the archives with a desperate groan, shoving against years of rust that had grown across the hinges.

Martin was pressed against the wall inside the door, clutching his chest as though trying to keep his heart inside. His face was white as a sheet.

“Martin?” Jon asked.

Martin whirled around, curls bouncing against his forehead. His eyes were wide, and his mouth was wider.

“Jon!” he said, clutching one hand to his chest.

“What’s the matter?” Jon asked urgently. “I heard a shout.”

“I— it’s—”

“For God’s sake, Martin, spit it out!”

“It’s Gertrude,” Martin gasped. “Jon, she’s dead.”

#the magnus archives #tma #tma fic #my stuff #rusty quill big bang 2020 #jonmartin

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allforhader · 4 years

Text

Why here?!

Barry Berkman x (F) Reader

Warnings: Blood, Language

Y/N and Barry have been dating for half a year, but secrets weren’t kept very long. When Barry told Y/N about his affairs, she needed space. She didn’t take the space to protect herself, she needed it to process the information. She needed other reasons to cloud what’s been said.

“Please don’t make me do this”

“You promised your fucking word Barry”

“I can’t do this”

“Just fucking do it”

Y/N jolts awake in her bed to a loud crash coming from the main room of her apartment. She grabs the bat from under her bed and braced herself making her way out of her bedroom. She reaches and takes a hold of the door knob quickly opening it about to swing when the silhouette was too familiar.

“Barry?” Y/N questions as she turns on the light and the first thing she notices was the broken window. “Barry I can’t afford-“ she stops talking when she noticed the blood on him. Was it his?

“I’m sorry I-I’ll fix....” Barry felt lightheaded as he stopped talking to process what’s happening internally until he couldn’t.

“Barry-!” Y/N freaks when he passes out on her coffee table, well what was her coffee table.

Fuck...

Why here?

I could’ve...

No I couldn’t have...

I trust her

I love her

She’s my everything...

Barry groans as he woke up eventually after passing out. He sits up in Y/N’s bed realizing his shirt is off and his wounds were taken care of. He looks around finding Tylenol waiting for him with a glass of water on the night stand. Barry tried to get out of the bed when Y/N walks in angrily smacking his legs to be brought back onto the bed. He noticed her hospital uniform and he immediately thought that he made her late, but the worried expression said otherwise.

“Y/N...what are you doing here...”

“I live here and there’s a patient in my damn bed. Who should stay in the damn fucking bed” Y/N’s anger seeped through the worry as she took his wrist doing the regular check of vitals she’d do in the ER.

——

Barry met Y/N in the ER, but it wasn’t for him that time. Sally fell and hit her head during an exercise, and Gene made Barry take her.

“Hello my name is Doctor Y/L/N and I’ll be your doctor this evening. Can you tell me...” Y/N trails off when she locked eyes with Barry. She immediately looked at Sally to bring back the attention. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I fell...”

“Well, you clearly hit your head” Y/N sets down the tablet for keeping charts on the end of the bed before putting on gloves. “You have a head lac. What exactly did you hit?”

“One of the floor speakers. Y’know, on stages?” Barry states as Y/N gave him an annoyed smile for talking to her like she doesn’t know shit.

“This is LA, Mr.?”

“Berkman”

“Mr. Berkman. So please. Don’t talk to me like an idiot when I get actors almost every day. The usual is heat exhaustion or dehydration. What is up with you actors not taking care of yourselves?” She frowns checking the lac as Sally winces. “Alright. You hang tight while I order a CT before stitching up that lac”

“Oh wait. Are staples faster?”

“Why?”

“I have an audition”

Y/N rolls her eyes taking the tablet and ordering the CT before waving over an ER nurse to put a pressure dressing.

“Ms....Sally Reed” Y/N reads the chart for her name before giving her a stern look. “Staples will definitely scar. If you let me take my time with your stitches, I promise there won’t be a noticeable scar”

“Fine...”

“As for you...Berkman. You can wait for your friend in the waiting room” Y/N states as she left to take care of a few things.

The hours went by and Y/N’s shift was over, she always leaves from the ER’s exit/entrance and when she stepped out. Barry sat on a bench outside the ER catching her attention.

“You injured Berkman?”

“No ma’am”

“Then what are you doing out here?” Y/N smiles walking over to Barry as he stood to his feet looking down at her.

“My name is Barry”

“Oh, first name formality is why you came here?”

“Well I thought I’d ask the badass ER doc if she’d like to get a drink”

“This...badass ER doc. Doesn’t drink on call” Y/N smiles. “But Y/N, would happily get tea with Barry this late”

“Then shall we?”

“We shall”

——

“You’ve been out for a week”

“I’ve been out for what...?”

“You lost a lot of blood Barry. I already stole gauze, a syringe, lidocaine, wraps, a few suture kits. I can’t steal blood to replace what you lost. So your body made it natural while you were out cold” Y/N frowns grabbing the clipboard off the night stand seeing the Tylenol and water. “You should take some right now if you’re still in pain” she states writing down his vitals as she’s been charting it down.

“Y/N, you didn’t-“

“What? Didn’t have to? Oh like I totally want my boyfriend dead on the streets for who knows what fucking happened to him” Y/N frowns making him sit up completely so she can check the wounds on his back.

Barry frowns feeling her take off some of the bandages to clean and re-patch.

“Tell me”

“What?”

“How this fucking happened”

“One bad job”

“Details Barry, for fuck sake”

“I was paid. Well. Boss-“

“Fuches”

“Fuches, was paid and then I’ll be paid. To take down this guy in downtown LA for the favor of Hank. I got stuck in a fight. That involved Guns of course. I only got grazed for the most part until I took a metal bat to a few places and well a knife to a gun fight”

“How many people were involved? Was it a trap?”

“It seemed like that. Honestly. You do a lot better job at taking care of wounds compared to Fuches when I fought a guy with a fucking black belt”

“Barry...”

Barry frowns turning around looking at Y/N upset expression only becoming her balling. He tried to move completely to hold her but she stopped him. Y/N got up cleaning up everything before propping Barry up with her pillows.

“I’ll....be back after my shift”

“Y/N...”

“Why here? You have actor friends. Aren’t actors supposed to be great liars? Lie to one of them that you got mugged. Just like New York, there’s a lot of jackasses in the streets of LA.”

“You’re the only one I trust Y/N”

“...it’s hard to believe that love”

Barry frowns watching Y/N grab one of Barry’s jackets on her way out. A part of her still loves him, even if everything is so out of the ordinary.

A few hours into the shift, Y/N sat down in the ER nurse’s station taking a minute as she watches interns freak out when nothing much is going on. She started trailing into her thoughts causing her to think out loud.

“He would’ve died...if he got shot...”

“What?”

Shit

“Huh?” Y/N looks over to find her favorite nurse Ollie look at her confused.

“You said something about getting shot?”

“Oh, yeah sorry. I’ve been thinking about an episode of Greys” wow.

“Y/N how can you watch that stuff when you do most of it everyday?”

“How can you watch that show AND it’s spin offs?”

“Okay. This isn’t about me”

“I just think about it a lot. They over dress a lot of stuff that we tend to see everyday. Can you imagine it being that bad every day? Also...I wouldn’t want to be Owen Hunt”

Ollie laughs at the final comment before answering the call. When he ends it he gave Y/N a look.

“You jinx the ER when you mention Owen!”

“Sorry!” Y/N laughs getting the trauma gown on as she makes her way out to meet the rig.

When Y/N meets with the rig, it wasn’t a big trauma but the person was too familiar.

——

Y/N sat in the middle of the audience waiting for the play to begin.

“Why are theaters so cold...” she whispers to herself as she heard a man laugh at her comment.

“Actors can’t sweat or the makeup will melt off”

“Tsk. Fucking actors”

“Who are you here for?”

“My boyfriend, you?” Y/N turns to look at him as he scoffs a bit.

“My uh. Nephew” Fuches laughs. “I hate acting. I think it’s an excuse of a job but he wants to do it. So whatever right? Support the ones you care about”

“Yeah, so. Your name?”

“You first little lady”

“Y/N”

“Fuches”

——

Y/N frowns putting her gloves on and checking Fuches for any major injuries but for the most part he took a beating. To her, he got what he deserved. But to her as a doctor, no one deserves to be in pain.

“Get an x-ray and CT. Let me know when he’s conscious”

“Should I admit him?”

“If there’s anything on the scans according to radiology that recommends observation, then yes. Please” Y/N states going to order the tests but before she did. She decided to handle all of it.

Fuches groans waking up in a hospital bed but when he looked around. The only one he spotted was Y/N.

“You...”

“You broke a few ribs and there’s a grade two liver lac. We are observing it and if it doesn’t resolve, we’ll do surgery”

“Why...our of all the doctors-“

“Did I help your ass?”

“...”

“I should’ve known that the funny guy sitting next to me during the showing of A Midsummer’s Night Dream, was the guy telling my boyfriend to go kill people”

“Should you...really be saying that out loud?”

“Who hurt you?”

“That’s none-“

“It’s my business if its the same fuckers that almost killed Barry”

“Tsk. So he’s not dead”

Y/N frowns realizing what she admitted as she crosses her arms leaning against the back of the chair.

“You leave him alone, or I’ll call the police”

“They’ll...only arrest Barry too Y/N..”

“The leave him alone or I’ll make it look like a complication in surgery, if there is one.” Y/N got up from her seat as Fuches watches her leave the room.

“Crazy bitch...”

Barry jolts awake when he heard the front door shut. He pushes himself to get out of bed and check on Y/N but she had already walked in when he stood to his feet.

“What’s wrong?” Barry frowns as Y/N just stood there. “Y/N?”

Y/N places her hands on his face giving him an angered look. Barry frowns resting his hands on her hips waiting for her to say something but for the most part all she did was look at him and tear up.

“Y/N what happened?”

“That fucker...that fucking fucker that told me he was your goddamn uncle at the play, was in my ER with semi similar injuries to you”

“Did he say anything? Anything of concern...?”

“No just....“ Y/N lets go of Barry trying to pull away when Barry only wrapped himself around her. She just didn’t want...she didn’t want this. She didn’t want to have to worry to an extreme level. Her job is already stressful enough...now there’s so much more.

“I’m in love with you Y/N...”

“...really? I should be saying that to you...I did just threaten to kill a man to protect you...” Y/N frowns feeling Barry squeeze her in his arms as she gripped onto his shirt. “I’m in love with you Barry Berkman...and I don’t want anybody hurting you anymore”

#bill hader #barry berkman #barry berkman x reader #barry block #barry block x reader #barry hbo #barry x reader #bill hader x reader #I like...writing. a lot

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