Flesh and Stone {Draal x Reader (Jim Lake's sister)}

Comedy Act With Y/n

Disclaimer: I got these funny stories from Youtube, and rephrased some of it to make it sound like as if the reader, A.K.A you, was telling these stories like as if this actually happened to your character in this story. Anyway's, Enjoy! P.S. This isn't part of the timeline. In this timeline, you and Draal are dating. And Barbara knows about the trolls and Trollmarket, and you two dating. Anyway's onto the story! :)

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I was sitting at the table, angrily muttering to myself. Then Draal came out of the basement and noticed my behavior. "Are you alright, Y/n?" He asked. "No. I mad at Toby." I said. "Is it because he's kinda... round?" He said, trying to find the words to make it sound like he's NOT body shamming.

"I'm not mad that Toby is fat, I mad that he does fat-shit. Like every time when me, Jim, and him meet up together and I brought food with me that I brought, every single time I look away, some of the food that I got disappears. And I knew it was Tobes because he was the one that was right next to me and my bag of food. So I always eat my food before I go to the fucking meet-ups. But the reason I'm mad is because I got caught the other day, I had just finished my food, and I was sitting in the driveway, and I was doing so well. Here comes my fat-ass friend outside. "Y/n"" I said as I was mimicking his voice. "I said. "What, Toby?" He dropped his voice like Monique impression and said "I smell something." He then sat down right next to me, looked at me and took two crumbs off my shirt, rubbed them together, watched the crumbs fall, sniffed the air, Tobes then looked right at me and said. "Y/n, was that an Italian extra dip with mozzarella cheese mustard and hot peppers on a kaiser roll?" I said "Wait a min-" He said before he sniffed the air again and added to his sentence, which pissed me off, "Was it cut in half?" "Now wait a minute, you fat bastard!"" I shouted as Draal started laughing hard, and fell to the floor. ""I want you to tell me how the fuck you can smell if a sandwich was cut in half! Who the fuck does your fat-ass work for, CSI in the food division?!"" I shouted some more as Draal started hitting his fist in the ground.

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After a few weeks after that happened, they decided to make a stage for me in the troll pub to tell my funny life stories. My first one was when I told Draal what happened when I was upset by Tobes. I was scheduled to do a show once a week, or when I feel like doing one, to do this funny bullshit. So, anyways, I am now walking onto the stage. "Hello everyone. So, yeah, I have another story to tell. So before I get into it and tell you the story, um... what I'm about to tell you will be in the story. So, I bought myself a truck. The reason why I'm telling you this is because it will make sense later on as I tell you the story." I said and then cleared my throat. "So, my mother bought a bookshelf off Gum-Tree, and my mom wanted me to get it for her because she'll be busy at work for the say and will have probably have a night shift at the hospital. So I agreed, because I love my mother and she loves me, so she showed me what it looked like, gave some of her money and told me to talk to the guy, and the guy's name was 'Morgan', so I texted him. Before you freak out, no it's not Morgana as a male. So I texted him 'Hello, my mom saw your bookshelf on Gum-Tree, is it still available?' Morgan's response came 2 minutes later and simply read 'It was my wife's bookshelf.'" I said and everytroll started laughing.

I gave everyone the shocked facial expression that I had when I saw that as they laughed. "How do you even respond to that?! Aside from the face that it doesn't answer my fucking question. His use of past tense in that sentence unnerved me slightly. I'm like 'Uh, I should probably tell mom to buy another bookshelf from another person' and then I noticed that he lived in the suburb next to me, so I replied 'Is it still available?' He responded with the letter 'Y', just a 'Y'. Is he asking WHY I want to know if it's still available, or is it a 'Y' for yes, and he's so in the throes of grief that he can't manage the 'E' and the 'S'? I assume that it's a 'Y' for yes, so I respond 'Cool, I'll take it. When's a good time to come and pick it up?' No reply for 15 minutes, I'm like 'Oh, he's forgotten about me, fuck it, I'll find a bookshelf somewhere else.' And when his reply does come through, I realized he spent those 15 minutes crafting his response. Because it's a fucking thesis! He must have felt so bad about only using a single consonant in his previous text, that he just massively overcompensated with this one."