James Jesse "The Trickster"

“You can’t afford digital?” He felt personally affronted that he was kidnapped by a man with technology from the nineteen nineties. At the least, this cartoon character had a devastating smile. It didn’t make up for much but it was enough to make Hartley talk. “Goodie good? And I thought my even-steven was bad.”  Aggravating his kidnapper wasn’t the most intelligent idea, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Yet, he knew that he should.

It would be a delicate balancing act. “You’re welcome.” His eyes narrowed at the toys, specifically at the wiring and scrap metal that laid with it. In the back of his head, he had another nagging thought. What happened to his sonic gloves and how was the fail-safe disabled? “Do I get a name?” An engineering background, definitely. Where would an acrobat find the time to learn those skills? Why would he feel compelled to?

Interesting.

“No.” Now things took a turn for the disturbing, he stared at the mannequin, skin crawling at the idea of being changed. He didn’t want to be formed into someone else’s image anymore. He had left that behind. “No modifications to my hair, my clothes. Nothing. If you need my skills, I’m already enough.” It’s said with a desperate conviction, body stiffening at the suggestion of pretending to be anyone but himself.

And then as quick as a blink, his eyes widened as calloused hands encircled his own. It was presumptuous to touch him without permission, but Hartley didn’t want to challenge him now. Besides, as far as the people in his life went, this one wasn’t terrible.

He missed the connection.

“I don’t have any allergies.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Would you expect me to give a straight answer? Don’t be so trusting.” When he walked away, Hartley stared down, wishing he had gauze to pull tighter into his skin. Along with his gloves, the acrobat had taken the protective covering off his hands as well. His fingers uncurled, he hated how much he wanted to feel someone else’s touch again. “But, I’d prefer to eat your rotini without having handcuffs on.

His smile finally fell away completely. Looking sheepish, he shook his head. “I’m...not sure I can do that. I’ll help you if you find it difficult to manage.” He laughed quietly and just like that, the smile was back though it lacked a bit of the brightness it had before. Hartley’s words had stirred up the dust at the bottom of the pool that was James’ eyes and they were growing clouded with past experience and doubt. “Some of us have to fight to get what we need. That being said, I prefer Polaroids. The picture is developed almost instantly. And this particular camera came from the circus. My old circus.” He said, replacing the camera with reverence atop one of the stacks of crates.

Heels clicked against the floor as he drew close and tiny wrinkles appeared over the bridge of James’ nose. “I didn’t bring you here because of any skills.” He said in a quiet voice. “I don’t want you to do anything for me... I just wanted...well... I wanted you.” A hand lifted and the acrobat rubbed his own chin, looking Hartley over again. “You don’t have to change your hair or your clothes. I like you the way you are.” His smile softened. “I only thought you might look nice in full technicolor. It’s okay though. You’re still very handsome and I’m glad to have you.”

Don’t look here too graphic Like people, like plastic Don’t look here too graphic Like people, like plastic So dance in the madness Oh Lord did you plan this?

“Why are you calling for your childhood dog, again?!”

“You don’t live there anymore… Don’t you remember? You haven’t lived there for years!”

“Yesterday you said you remembered, and now you don’t recognise me anymore… I don’t know how long I can hold this up.”

“Don’t drink that, you’re pregnant!”

“Why do you keep trying to call your mum/dad?”

“You could’ve just said you weren’t in the mood, no need to punch me! Why are you looking at me like that? What’s wrong?”

“What the hell are you doing here?! I told you I never wanted to see you again!”

“So, what you’re saying is, you don’t believe you can trust me? After all we’ve been through?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Maybe it’s better if you don’t remember…”

“You’re safe with me. Don’t listen to what anyone says, they’re trying to confuse you. You need to stay with me. I will help you remember everything, my dear.”

“He/she is dead.”

“You should at least try to stop living in the past!”

“Haha, very funny, but that’s not going to get you off the hook.”

I decided that I wanted to do a sort of shout-out, follow forever sort of thing for all of my most active blogs which include @theshatteredteacup , @stilltheyscream , and @rotteneggsandchainsaws​ . The people here are listed in no particular order and I apologize in advance if I have forgotten anyone. I love all of my followers, which combined together with all my blogs is a number I can barely comprehend. Thank you all for welcoming me to the world of tumblr rping. I have never felt more at home.                                                                     ~ * ~ 

“Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. “Pooh!” he whispered. “Yes, Piglet?” “Nothing,” said Piglet, taking Pooh’s paw. “I just wanted to be sure of you.” ― A.A. Milne, The House at Pooh Corner

@bellicosum: I am so thankful that I can always be sure of you. I hope this new year brings about the change that you want. Thanks so much for being there for me. You are a beautiful person. Don’t get discouraged, your writing is getting better all the time and you deserve all the praise and love for it. Don’t lose hope, things can and will change. It won’t be this way forever. Don’t forget that I’m here for you and you’re one of my best friends. I’m so glad I have you.                                                                    ~ * ~

“So I guess you could say Neel owes me a few favors, except that so many favors have passed between us now that they are no longer distinguishable as individual acts, just a bright haze of loyalty. Our friendship is a nebula.” ― Robin Sloan, Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore

@fiftyguilders: I heard this quote on the audiobook I’m listening to and my first thought was you. Thank you for sticking by me and for helping me grow as a writer. You are far more talented than you realize and only getting better. I hope this new year brings happiness and love and know that I thank God that I met you. Just know that when we finally meet in person I am going to hug you no matter how much you grumble about it and I’m going to buy you Zaxbys. Juliet is still here.                                                                    ~ * ~

“Why did you do all this for me?’ he asked. ‘I don’t deserve it. I’ve never done anything for you.’ ’You have been my friend,’ replied Charlotte. 'That in itself is a tremendous thing.” ― E.B. White, Charlotte’s Web

@moralsofajackal: So I’ve not even read Charlotte’s Web completely, but there are a lot of lines such as this one that really strike a chord for me. Thank you for being there for me and listening to me. Thank you for your kindness and your willingness to listen to all my crazy ideas. Thank you for all the love you shower upon my muses and for feeding my small ego with your lovely compliments and encouragements. Just thank you for being you. Your writing is amazing and the twists you put on your characters are so unique. I hope this new year brings more happiness, peace, and a fountain of creativity.                                                                    ~ * ~

“There is no surer foundation for a beautiful friendship than a mutual taste in literature.” ― P.G. Wodehouse

@lecteronthelam, @nigellecter, @iletyouseeme, @brokenbeautifulbird, @tandfe, @clothedinthesxn, @hooopers, @burningvermilion : Thank you all for helping me be a better writer. Thank you for listening to all my ideas and for your willingness to have fifty thousand threads going at once. Thank you for talking headcanons with me and sending me memes and helping me feel loved. You all are amazing writers and I am thankful that I have you all. I’m looking forward to another amazing year full of angst and doom and fluffy fluff.                                                                    ~ * ~

“There’s not a word yet, for old friends who’ve just met.” ― Jim Henson, Favorite Songs from Jim Henson’s Muppets

@flyingambulist, @malevolentmusician - thank you so much for welcoming me into the Flash fandom!

# however drunk u are keep it up op,

… Accident? 

James worried his lip for a moment as his brow furrowed. What kind of accident would make a Hartley so different? The parents dying, maybe, he wasn’t really in a good place after that but it didn’t actually harm the ginger himself in any way that wasn’t mental. Then again, this James’s Hartley wasn’t even a redhead. Was he absolutely sure this was a Hartley? To Gio, no, from what he’s heard there is no way but this James just seems so determined–

“What accident? Besides the one that gave me these awesome scars and him the matching set I can’t think of any major accident that would do that to him that came up. Dude, JJ, does yours even have a fetish for music like it’s going out of style?” Did he have a Blatt?

His hand went out in a second to pat his duplicate on the shoulder and give it a squeeze. That look and slight waver to his words, he could clock that from anywhere. Nobody knows what you sound like sad better than yourself. “It ain’t in his character, kid. No matter what kind of fucked up–” Oops, sorry lady with a child that just walked by. Gio grimaced a little and rolled his eyes, “Messed up world you come from. But! Hart wouldn’t just leave and never come back without sayin’ something first. The guy likes an audience as much as the rest of us.” 

He shivered and shook his head. “Anyway...he was working on some kind of gloves. I didn’t get a very good look at them and he wouldn’t say much but they looked like it could be a weapon of some sort. I’m worried...”

The gentle squeeze on the shoulder was grounding and he felt comforted by this older version of him’s words. He smiled slowly. “He adores music. He’s also been working on experiments with this flute device, trying things out with the rats. It’s pretty cool.” But he hadn’t been in the loop much with that either yet. Hartley was wonderful, he loved him more than life, but he did have a tendency to keep his affairs close to the chest. James was more used to blurting out everything that came to mind as he thought of it.

The unfamiliar voice, the suddenness of it… Everyone in this bank should have been taken care of, frozen for at least another fifteen or twenty minutes. Yet someone was undoubtedly speaking to him.

The flute was snatched back up and raised to his lips. Sharp inhale, not his best preparation breath but it would do… But that breath slowly, shakily exhaled again. You, sir, almost met the same fate as the rest of this bank. You still might, unless an explanation came quickly.

There was no mistaking that outfit, though; who else would wear an outfit like that? 

“Or...,” His eyes widened. “Did you get the hang of things? My Hartley was just beginning to experiment with this sort of thing... He was trying it out on our rats...”

“I didn’t think it was possible,” He began, his smile growing wider. “I think you might be shorter than my Hartley.” His Hartley. He missed him dreadfully. It was taking everything within him not to pull this new Hartley close, but even if it was allowed, this wasn’t his Hart. It wouldn’t be the same.