#Anyways my boss said that the bucket of work I like will be lunch and learns and shit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

immortalbumblebee · 2 years

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Chapter 11: Foreign Material

*nervous laughter* I'M SO SORRY I KNOW ITS BEEN LITERAL MONTHS. I swear to god I'm still in love with this series, and trust me when I say I'm getting more and more dedicated to forming a proper upload schedule.

As a gift to make up for my absence, I wanted to give y'all some extra content so...I kinda sorta made a character playlist for Min? Just a collection of songs that reminded me of her/I think she'd like! Hope this helps makes up for me being a terrible writer to all of you.

Masterlist

“You’re sure you’re good with this, Sewer Fish?” Benzo’s question should have been some comfort, but it wasn’t. Looking up at the towering structure in front of you, a large concrete structure with smokestacks reaching up to the cloudy sky above, dark smoke billowing out of them and across the river, you felt nothing but anxiety.

You flattened your hair for the hundredth time, the hair gel you had slathered into it feeling alien to you. “Can I be honest?”

“Would be pissed if you weren't."

“Not really.”

Benzo chuckled, but it wasn’t out of humour as he slung an arm around your shoulders outside those giant metal doors. Feeling the strong, miner arm of your best friend, you allowed yourself to breathe deeply; the topsider air tickling your lungs.

“You’ve got this. If anything happens, you have your escape routes. Just make a distraction and you’re gone.” Benzo attempted to comfort you.

“But…what if I don’t get the job at all? Then what? All this stress and planning for nothing? Getting Vander mad for no reward?” You sighed deeply. “I wish I had my dagger. I feel naked, and not in a fun way. If I get killed, my mom’s going to kill me..”

“Something tells me your new boss wouldn’t appreciate his new street-rat brandishing a weapon.” As Benzo let you go, you began fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt. “Niya said the job was pretty much yours, guaranteed. Just don’t show off how much smarter you are than all of them and you’ll be golden, Sewerfish. And don’t worry about all the rest of that; planning is a part of life, and Vander’ll cool down soon.”

The air seemed to get a little bit colder as you thought about your brutish friend. “He hasn’t said a word to me since I told him about this damn job!”

“Man has the attention span of a goldfish, soon he won’t even remember why he was upset to begin with." Benzo chuckled. "Since when are you so bothered by a guy, anyway? Aren’t you the one that’s always warning me about getting attached?”

“But-” “Look, if we go through every possible scenario, we’re going to be out here all week.” The deadpan look on his face reassured you that he was right. You couldn’t stand here overthinking all day, you had a job to get to.

“You’re right.”

“When am I not?” You slugged him in the arm for that one, but to his credit, it did make you giggle.

“Thanks for walking me, and for the shirt.” You offered a smile, and Benzo nonchalantly shrugged back.

“Thank Luoi, he’s the one that lets me take long lunches if I need to.” As he began to walk away, he pointed at you one last time. “Tell you what. If you survive today without pissing anyone off, we go out for drinks tonight. Your first round’s on me.”

You feign shock, moving your hand in a clutched-pearls expression. “You saying you wanna buy me a drink, Benzo? How forward.”

Rolling his eyes, Benzo turns his back and continues on his way. “Save the charm for your new boss, Fishie!”

Then he turned the corner and he was gone. And you were alone in front of the factory doors.

Meeting with Niya to tell her you wanted to accept the position had been bad enough for your anxiety, but crossing the bridge and travelling to the factory itself? To say you’d been sweating buckets as you walked in the heavy metal doors would have been an understatement. You weren’t sure what you’d be met with when you got there, as you'd only been told to look presentable and to bring your work papers.

The latter hadn’t been a problem, just a case of using the fake work papers you usually kept on-hand. ‘Looking presentable’, however, had been a completely different ballgame. You had nice clothes, but what did someone wear to a job interview on the rich side of town? For a factory job? Eventually, you wound up raiding Benzo’s closet and borrowing one of his good work shirts and a pair of simple trousers.

That was nice enough right? You hoped so, at least.

Taking one final deep breath to steel yourself, you opened the door and strolled in.

Being escorted from the front reception to the head supervisor’s office, you were struck by the notion that no factory had any business looking as nice as this one did.

The clean air was one thing, you'd left your bandana in your pocket because you’d expected the lighter air quality. But the whole damn place practically glimmered, not a drop of oil or rust in sight. The entry was decorated with framed photos of the factory over the years, leading to a heavy wooden desk where a receptionist sat on the other side. You barely spared the images a passing glance as you introduced yourself, affirming the time for your appointment. The assistant-a young girl-was prim and pretty, that much you could have expected. Speaking politely with a neutral expression, her hair was placed in a tight bun that pulled all her features up and back.

Then, before you could really even catch your bearings, you were escorted up to your new boss' office. As you climbed the spiralling staircase, you couldn't help but marvel at the polished hardwood that you stepped on. Hardly the right substance for heavy foot traffic. But the wood paled in contrast to the railings that kept the staircase in place; intricate spiralling patterns were woven with a shiny black metal that you weren't quite familiar with. It was beautiful, deep black similar to a starless night sky, that had seemingly been moulded and smithed to perfection as the patterns danced around one another until tying off at the end of the ascent. As much as you found yourself gawking at the masterful artistry, you couldn't help but wonder why someone would put so much effort and resources into a place like this. After all, it was a factory, not an art gallery. Who came to an industrial building expecting glamour?

Just as you thought you couldn't be anymore awed, you were let into a big-looking office, seemingly that of your new employer, and all your preconceived notions of what a factory should look like flew out the window. Light hardwood floors spanned the floor, save for a plush rug in the center, which drew the eye to the heavy wooden desk in the middle of the room. Above the desk was a giant crystal chandelier, something you'd only seen in ballrooms during big jobs. This was smaller than one you may find in a ballroom, but it was nonetheless spectacular and gaudy as it cast little glimmering lights across the walls and furniture. Your eyes tried to take in all the sights, assaulted by the sheer amount of belongings put into the room. Plush couches, beautifully crafted tables, a bird cage of some kind.

What the hell were you getting yourself into?

Stepping into the room of riches, you were welcomed by the superintendent and subsequently had to hold back a laugh behind a polite smile. The fact that he looked exactly as you’d expected was completely humorous in your mind, and you’d only wish the boys had been around to share in your amusement. A fat, white, and balding man in a fancy suit, smoking from a fancy pipe, sitting at a fancy desk with a bunch of fancy, useless paperweights on it. Suddenly, the room was beginning to make much more sense.

“Minerva, I presume.” The man called to you, tapping the end of his pipe into an ashtray. Looking at the pipe, which you could only assume was an antique based on the shape and design, you wondered if it was actually practical to use. But the subtle yellow staining in the man's otherwise silvery white mustache spoke for itself.

“Yes, Sir.” You nodded, making your way over to his desk with an extended hand. “Mr. Morichi, nice to meet you.” As you spoke, you were careful to hold your chin up and keep a watch on your accent.

He shook your hand, a tight but casual grip as a metal ring with his family crest dug into the meat of your fingers. “Morrison, please. Mr. Morichi was my father.” He had an easy smile, and you were reminded of the businessman smirk that Benzo often used when making deals.

“Morrison.” You corrected off-handedly.

He gestured to a soft leather seat across from his desk. “Please, sit.” You accepted the invitation, actively sitting on the edge with your stiff spine refusing to lean against the back. “Ms. Minerva, I’ve heard good things about you. One of my managers knows a friend of yours? Tells me you have quite a bit of experience in the field.”

For the next few minutes, the two of you have a polite back and forth discussing all the places you’ve worked over the years. Over 13 years, you'd made up an impressive resume working in just about every factory, blacksmith, and vendor shop in the Underground. This was only more remarkable thanks to the fact that practically every boss you'd had had nothing but good and kind things to say about you. This, you knew, would come in handy during this hiring process.

As you name a few of the more well-known places you'd worked, he nods and asks about the bosses working there, seeming to recognize them through business dealings.

“So you’re familiar with parts of the metal industry in the Fissures?” You ask politely.

He shrugs, taking a couple of puffs from his pipe. By now you’ve got a full smell of the tobacco between his lips, and recognize that it’s much lighter and smoother than the stuff you’re used to. “It’s a small city, Piltover. Even between the two ends, Top and Bottom side, people forget that sometimes. But when you’ve been working in this field for as long as I have…you make yourself familiar with every piece of possible competition that stands in your way.”

That was an interesting answer, knowing full well that the Morichi metal monopoly had bought out several of the larger factories in your home city. One of their bigger buy-outs had put about 4,000 people out of work. But you chose not to bring that up just yet

“Such an impressive resume. You've got the experience, and the references to prove it." Your smile grows, if only a little. "So why venture away from the Underground?”

Squaring your shoulders, you recalled your practiced answer in your mind’s eye. “I wanted to broaden my horizons...sir. Maybe by working here, I hope to encourage more collaboration between topside and the Underground, specifically when it comes to industry.” A generic interview answer, but Morison didn’t seem to mind as he just absently nodded while studying the paper in-hands.

“You’ve uh,” The man, Morrison, continues; “neglected to mention your skillset in this impressive resume of yours.”

Biting your lips, you clear your throat and continue; praying you sounded more confident in this whole thing than you felt. “If I may ask, what’s your opinion on mages, sir?”

He chuckles a bit at this. “Pretty sure you’re the one supposed to be interviewed here, Ms. Minerva.”

“Would you prefer not to answer the question?”

He smiles for a moment, holding off on his answer as bright blue eyes scan you over. You don’t flinch from his gaze. “You have backbone, kid. I appreciate that. But you got to be careful on this end of the city, you know. A lot of people see some little girl from the Underground and are going to misconstrue backbone for arrogance.”

“Not you though?”

“Lucky for you, no.” He puts down his pipe. “As I’ve mentioned, I’ve been in this business quite a while. My father owned this factory, and his father before him. I plan on retiring soon and passing it down to my son. And if there’s one lesson I want him to learn from me…is that business opportunities come in every shape and size.” You hesitate, waiting for this anecdote to lead somewhere notable...but it doesn't. You realize that, much like many Topsiders, this man just likes the sound of his own voice.

“And that’s what I am after all,” a sarcastic note slipping into your tone, “a business opportunity.”

“You’re a smart girl. You know better than to think this situation is anything otherwise.”

“To be frank, Ms. I want to be clear that this isn’t an act of charity or some sort of diversity ploy for good marketing,” Morrison explained. “Rest assured, this business holds no loyalty to you. If any of my staff finds you being light-fingered with the merchandise, you start causing conflict with the other employees, or you get on the wrong side of the law-” again, you had to hold back a smirk, “you will be sent out of here faster than a bat out of hell. Frankly, I don’t care that you’re a mage or whatever filthy, inbred, slum you come from, Politics is for the council to worry about. If hiring you means I get to pay fewer wages? Fantastic! But I will not tolerate Trencher Trash in my family’s factory, do I make myself clear?”

Trencher Trash, there it was.

Your teeth grit at this, and you could feel your nostrils flare angrily, but you remained still. Breath even, eyes locked on the man across from you as he raised his eyebrows expectantly. After a long, tense moment, however, your gaze softens and your lips pull into a polite smile.

“Crystal clear, Mr. Morichi.” You nodded. “And, as for my skill set-” with a singular beckoning motion of your finger, his pipe flies out of his hands and into yours. You catch it easily, smiling as his eyebrows shoot up ever so slightly at the sudden motion. “-I’m sure you will find them satisfactory for the job.”

After watching you with steady eyes for just a second more, Morrison reaches into a pile of paper, pulling out a few sheets you recognized as Piltover work papers and a proper liscence to use your mage powers on company grounds. You’d never had one of those mage licenses, never needed one in the Underground, and the whole concept felt very uncomfortable to you, like a leash. But with a heavy ‘thunk’, he presses a rubber stamp of his family crest onto the loose-leaf paper and then hands it to you.

“Glad to hear it! Welcome aboard, Ms. Minerva. I’ll call up your floor manager to give you the rest of your orientation.”

“Okay, okay.” Niya hiccuped, her face (much like your own) pink at the cheeks as she giggled slightly to herself. Leaning into her giggles, you muffled your own behind a closed fist. “But, like, seriously, Girlie! What was he like?”

“Morrichi?” You clarified, puffing a breath up to brush your hair out of your face. “Same generic self-entitled, full-of-himself, Topsider snob. Definitely hasn’t ever missed a meal before, if you know what I mean.” Despite being in a quieter corner of the pub, you still had to yell quite a bit so that Niya could hear you over the loud conversations and jukebox music. The place was packed for a weeknight, crammed like a can of sardines, and smelled just the same. The scent of body odour, ale, and smoke filled the air and created a rank atmosphere.

Niya rolled her eyes, finding your answer completely unhelpful. “Was he handsome? In his correspondence with the paper, I always imagined him as a silver-fox type.”

You made a gagging motion, face curling up into a cringe. “Niy’! He’s, like, 60!”

“Some 60-year-olds can be sexy!” She exclaims, lifting her hands defensively. “What about that, uhhh, floor manager you mentioned? Would you consider it?”

Yet again, you cringed before taking a sip of the ale you held in hand. Even the thought of possibly romancing any of your new ‘coworkers’ was enough to create a bitter aftertaste in your mouth. “Sure, Niya. Dorian could be considered attractive…if you could ignore the blatant prejudice against us Fissure-folk. He only referred to me as a 'sumprat', never by my name! Everyone in that factory is the same, that’s why I never fuck Topsiders…unlike some people.”

After another hiccup, Niya swayed in her seat and pointed an accusatory finger at you. Her dark skin was shiny with sweat, bringing out the natural glow that always seemed to encapsulate her. Even when she was sloppy-drunk…“Hey! Heyyyyy~ don’t be mean to meeeee! You said he was good when he was showing you the furnace-thing, right? That means he’s good with his hands! Plus...nothing like a prejudice-fueled hate-fuck, amIright Babes?”

You gapped at your friend for a long moment, utterly speechless, before reaching over and grabbing her half-drunken glass of wine. “Aaaand that’s enough for you tonight. You're ridiculously stupid-horny when you're drunk, you know that?”

Niya made a sort of half-hearted groan of disapproval as you set the glass away from her, leaning more onto the table. She may be an Underground native, but Niya was never able to drink with the rest of the Fissures, couldn’t hold her liquor to save her life. Two glasses of wine and she was done. Shaking your head, you downed the rest of your own ale and felt the heat in your cheeks grow and migrate down to the tips of your ears. Maybe you should think about slowing down yourself…

Feeling a soft touch on your shoulder, you turned to see the beautiful face of Skye, her long and silky purple hair draped over her shoulders and hooded eyes smiling at you as she floated to the corner table. Despite being clothed in just a ragged blouse and plain jeans, the way she carried herself had always struck you as nothing but graceful and elegant; almost akin to Topsider beauty. Behind her, Silco crept over and stood closer to where Niya was now fully slouched over the table. Upon seeing the two, Niya exclaimed their names excitedly, causing Silco to pat her head like a toddler.

“I didn’t know you were here tonight!” You smiled back at Skye, welcoming the friendly hug she offered. Back in their teens; Niya and Skye had been great friends, only for them to naturally grow apart when Niya took more of an interest in working topside, while Skye was more interested in getting married and settling down. They were still friendly these days though, as far as you knew.

“I just wanted to pop in for a little while and say congrats on the job. Benzo told us this morning on his rounds. I gotta say, was not expecting you to be the type to take Topsider cash.” You heard the inquisitive tone in her voice.

“Trust me, I’m not just doing it for the pay. Never hurts to have another pair of ears when it comes to those elitist sons-of-bitches, right?” You winked at her. “For Zaun.”

She smirked back. “For the rebellion.”

“You should tell her about the uniforms,” Silco smirked from his place across the table.

The woman’s eyebrows flew up. “Uniforms? What kind of factory is this?”

You sighed loudly, rolling your eyes. “Don’t even get me started. The damn place has me wearing a fucking dress, for Lady’s sake. I mean, talk about impractical.”

“Fucking Pilties.” Skye cursed, laughing dryly. “It’s kinda funny picturing you waltzing around a workfloor in a ballgown.”

“Oh fuck off, I may be a damn-fine dancer, but I don’t ‘waltz’ for anyone. I don’t care how good the pay is.” The three of you continued, discussing your various places of work (with the odd slurred mumblings of Niya thrown in every once in a while). After a while though, you began looking around the room.

“Speaking of factory workers though, is Narco here too? I haven’t seen him. I’d love to talk to him about some of the metals I was working with today.”

Skye shook her head. “Nah, he’s on babysitting duty for the night. When Benzo was telling everyone it was a pub night, I tried to convince him that Violet was just fine with my mom, but…one sad look from that girl and he refused to walk out the door. She has that man wrapped around her little finger, let me tell you.” After laughing a bit at her joke, she eyed Niya with concern. While you’d all been talking, the reporter had begun childishly poking into Silco’s ribs, much to the man’s annoyance. “How much has she had this time?”

“Two glasses of wine, not even.” You laughed and watched Silco slap her fingers away yet again. You tilted your head up to him. “How have you been making out tonight? You see where our boys wandered off to?”

“I think I saw Benzo leave with someone, didn’t see who though. Typical.” Silco explained. “Niya, Would you please stop–as for Vander…” His eyes danced behind you, and-somewhat hesitantly-you followed his gaze only to regret it a second later. Sitting at the bar, Vander was seated next to a guy you didn’t recognize. He was young, maybe a couple of years older than you lot, and very pretty. He also seemed to be laughing quite heartily at what Vander was saying. In return, Vander was smiling quite heartily as they chatted, not a care in the world. Stubbornly, you turned your head away, looking at your glass and wishing it wasn’t empty.

“Uh oh…” Skye muttered, squeezing your arm. “Do I sense some trouble in paradise?”

“Shouldn’t be.” Silco shrugged, although the twinkle in his eye made your skin crawl uncomfortably for some reason. “Right, Min?”

You paused for a second, staring angrily at your glass as though it was the root of all your problems, before swallowing the lump in your throat and looking back up; a smile now plastered on your face. Logically, you knew you shouldn’t be feeling mad right now. You and Vander weren’t together, never were. You’d chosen that path a long time ago, and both of you had had plenty of partners since. So why bother being upset about something like this?

Because the stupid, stubborn arsehole hadn’t spoken a word to you in days, that’s why.

“Right then." Your accent slipped for just a second, causing you to clear your throat before continuing. "Nothing to worry about. Can I get you guys a drink? A pitcher for the table, maybe?”

“Another wine!” A now very sleepy Niya exclaimed, but you just ignored her.

“I’ll take the house whiskey if you don’t mind.” Silco shrugged. “A nightcap. I think I should probably take our lovely Ms. Niya here home in a minute.” Looking down at your girl friend, you weren’t surprised to find her falling into slumber, lightly drooling on the table.

“Nah, I’ll do it.” Skye volunteered.

You frowned. “But I just bumped into you! You can’t leave yet!” But she just shook her head.

“It’s probably for the best… This may not be the best time to bring this up but-” her hands landed on her abdomen, a smile lifting the corners of her lips “-I can’t drink right now anyways.”

Your and Silco’s eyes sprang open, looking quickly to each other for confirmation before looking back at the purple-haired woman in front of you, who was now full-on grinning.

“You’re pregnant again?!” You exclaimed, rushing to hug her, all previous issues now wiped from your memory. “Since when?”

“Three months now. We wanted to tell everyone ASAP but Dr. Yan was real strict about waiting 'til the first trimester before telling anyone, just to be careful.”

“Congratulations!” Silco grinned, leaning in to give her a congratulatory handshake. “You two seem to be popping them out like rabbits, huh? Narco’s got to be thrilled.”

“You have no idea. He’s hoping it’s a boy this time.” She laughed. “And I don’t know if I’d say three years was ‘popping them out like rabbits’.”

You shook your head. “We’re just thrilled. It’s not common that kids in the Underground grow up with one awesome parent, never mind both of them. If more kids get to experience that then we’re excited for all of you.”

Skye smiles, shrugging modestly. “Ah, we try our best.”

“If you need anything, at all.” Silco eyed her seriously. “You let us know, alright? We’re always here to help.”

“Thank you, both of you.” With another smile, she made her way over to the passed-out Niya, scooping her up in her arms and propping her up straight as the other girl whined in partially-conscious complaint. “That’s the main reason I wanted to come out today, just to get a start on the announcements. But Niya really looks like she needs to get home now.”

“You sure you’re good to do that on your own?” Silco asked, eyebrow raised. But he was just met with a passive handwave.

“I’m pregnant, not weak. Besides, Niya’s, what? 90 pounds soaking wet? I’ll be fine. See you guys soon?”

“You better.” You smile. “Come by sometime! I’ll make something pregnancy-safe for dinner!”

“We may just take you up on that.” Skye smiled and waved to the two of you before walking off towards the exit.

“That’s awesome.” Your own smile is seemingly glued to your face, eyes following the two women as they disappear into the crowd. “She and Narco make such adorable parents.”

“Two little ones is quite the handful though. I would have waited a couple more years, personally.” Silco notes, taking Niya’s half-drunk wine and swirling it in the glass. You can’t help but laugh, eyeing him out of the corner of your eye. He’s wearing one of his nicer outfits, as he tends to do when you all go out. A light purple button-down, billowy with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, layered underneath a cheap-but-nice-looking grey blazer that you’d all bought him for his last birthday. His hair slicked back to reveal his angular features, you notice that his nose is just slightly pinker than normal, a sign that he had been drinking lately as well. But based on the fact that he wasn’t swaying or slurring his words, you guessed that it hadn’t been very much.

“I’m sorry, how many of you did Mikael raise again? You guys are, like, a few months apart between the three of you, and he seems to have done just fine.”

Silco, half smirking, nods and downs the mouthful of wine. “Fair point.” As he reaches into his pocket, he pulls out a box of what you recognize as his home-rolled cigarettes. “I know you said something about a drink, but how would you feel about a smoke instead?”

For a moment, you’re hesitant. There are more people here you haven’t said hello to yet, and you can still hear another bottle of ale calling your name. But one look back to the bar, and you see that mystery guy has stepped closer to Vander now. Suddenly, the anxiety from before returns tenfold, watching with unmistakable envy as you watch the man's hand reach out to touch Vander's bicep.

“Count me in.”

Taglist (if you want to be added just lemme know!) @the-lake-is-calling @conretewings @officialjellydoughnut @ladyoakenshield @lovesleepybearwriter @pinkrose1422 @pinkheartfleece

#arcane #arcane netflix #arcane fanfic #arcane league of legends #vander arcane #Vander Arcane #vander x reader #Vander x Reader #vander x oc #Vander x OC #arcane benzo #arcane silco #young vander #young benzo #young silco #oc fanfic #original character #Spotify

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amjustagirl · 4 years

Text

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven. ~ eight.

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Being with Miya Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. After all, it’s impossible to tame a storm.

Notes: Multipart fic, slow burn. Updates to come soon (and dw, fic’s completed, so you won’t be left hanging ^^)

Masterlist here

AO3 Link here

‘You sure you want the job?’ Miya Osamu asks her when she turns up at his shop, application in hand, responding to the advertisement in Onigiri Miya’s window for part time staff - general help needed, ability to ride a scooter a plus point - it had read.

There are only fifteen seats in Onigiri Miya, and hardly any space for her to fit her backpack between her knees, but sunlight streams in invitingly from the glass shop front and there is a faint smell of grilled rice and fried fish that reminds her of weekly lunches at her grandparents’ home.

‘Yes’, she answers, gesturing with her thumb at her scooter parked outside the shop. ‘I think I’m a good fit for this job’. The corner of Miya Osamu’s mouth lifts ever so slightly, and he leans forward in his seat, hand extended to her.

‘Welcome to Onigiri Miya then’, he says before proceeding to brisk walk her through the ins and outs of the shop, the scope of her responsibilities, work schedule and (most importantly) her wage, leaving her head spinning at the end of the impromptu briefing. Miya Osamu seems passionate about his craft, his face brightening up with enthusiasm when he talks her through the various onigiris he sells, the type of rice he buys (from a boutique rice farmer in Hyogo, apparently), and he’s generous enough to offer her a decent wage, more than what she could be making working in a combini.

She stands by her bike on the roadside, tilting her face to the setting sun. There is the faintest smell of rain in the air.

She soon falls into the rhythm of Onigiri Miya.

Osamu is strangely territorial over food preparation, so her tasks in the kitchen are mainly limited to washing rice (thrice in clean water, drained thoroughly) and doling out cups of tea and bowls of soup. When he finds out that she’s studying accountancy at Osaka University, he immediately places her in charge of the cash register (and later, in charge of their books). Her scooter comes in handy when he needs her to do urgent stock runs or deliveries to customers.

She learns the name of their regular customers - Abe-san, who only ever orders salmon onigiris with a side of pork bone soup. Kawasaki-san, who spends half her meal complaining about her aches and pains to a sympathetic Osamu. Mina-san, who turns up every day for breakfast after Osamu includes spam onigiri on his menu after he overhears that she misses her hometown of Okinawa.

Osamu calls her over at the end of her shift on a busy Saturday night. ‘I’ve a large order for an old customer of mine. D’you think you could help deliver it?’

There is a gleam in his eye that she does not quite like.

‘You sound like you’re sending me out to slaughter’ she comments half-jokingly, to which he responds with an amused shrug of his shoulder. She considers whether it’s bad form to throw her shoe at her boss’s head, but decides not to waste her time. So she shoulders the large sack of food, heading off on her scooter to a neat apartment building in a quiet neighbourhood.

Well – it would have been a quiet neighbourhood but for the music blasted from the top floor of her destination. She has to cover her ears the minute the elevator opens and wonders if their neighbours are deaf or dead because there is no way otherwise the apartment wouldn’t have copped a noise complaint. Grimacing at the tape over the doorbell, she knocks politely on the door.

There is no response.

She knocks once more, less politely this time, but still the door does not open. ‘Hello, your delivery is here!’ she calls firmly, slamming her fist down on the sturdy wooden door.

There is still no response.

She’s about to turn around when the door crashes open and a blonde head pops out. Her jaw falls open because standing before her is the spitting image of her boss that just sent her out with this order, albeit blonde and ever so slightly broader.

‘You’re not ‘Samu, but you’re pretty’, he leers, leaning against the doorway.

She’s tempted to deck him but she’s pretty sure that would mean losing her job. So reminding herself that all that’s standing between her and her bed is this delivery, she bites her tongue and extends the bag of food to him. ‘Your order, sir. Payment please.’

‘Didn’t ‘Samu mention that I don’t need to pay?’ The blonde Osamu replica tugs the bag of food towards him, frowning when she refuses to let go.

‘Not that I know of - and I can’t let you have your order unless you pay for it’, she answers firmly, foot against the door.

He straightens into his height in a thinly veiled attempt to intimidate her - and while he’s at least six foot of solid muscle from what she can see, it’s thanks to years of working in her father’s shop with men at least a full head taller and broader than her that she’s not afraid to tip her chin up at him with her widest, sharpest grin until he looks away to draw out a couple of thousand yen bills from his pocket, enough to cover the bill.

‘Fine, fine - tell ‘Samu he wins’, he grumbles, slamming the door in her face.

She waits until she’s back at her scooter and a good distance away from the apartment before she dials Osamu’s number.

‘What was that?’ she asks without preamble when he picks up.

‘What was what?’ Osamu answers, sounding uncharacteristically amused.

‘Don’t play cute with me! Did you just make me deliver food to your brother?’

‘My twin actually’, and he ignores her squawk of indignation. ’Did he pay up?’

‘What do you take me for - of course! I didn’t let go of the food until he did.’

‘Huh’, Osamu responds, sounding surprised. ‘That’s the first time he actually gave in’. And with that, he laughs merrily and hangs up on her.

She shrugs it off as one of her boss’s weird quirks.

Except it doesn’t stop as being a weird quirk but turns into an annoying habit.

Atsumu quickly becomes a regular customer (she learns during one of the twins’ many bickering sessions that he’s back in Osaka after several competitions), and Osamu latches on pretty fast that she’s far better than he is at forcing Atsumu to pay for the food he eats, so he sics her on Atsumu every time the blonde setter shows up at the shop for a meal.

‘Pay up’ she orders Atsumu for the fourth time this week. Her tone gives no berth for refusal so Atsumu reaches for his pockets even as he grumbles his complaints about ‘cowardly scrubs’ and ‘ crazy bitches’ at a grinning Osamu.

‘You should give me a raise for managing your brother’, she complains to Osamu later, and though he raises an eyebrow at her, to her surprise, he does exactly that.

Osamu proceeds to take advantage of said raise to send her to man their stand at MSBY’s first match of the season, armed with a few hundred onigiris. Business is brisk, but she finds her attention diverted by the sheer speed of the plays and the way the players all seem to have wings in their feet.

Atsumu in particular catches her eye. Osamu explained to her over a slow day at work about volleyball positions and basic plays, and he boasted about Atsumu’s talent as a setter, how ‘he always takes the best care of his spikers’. Watching him now, even to her untrained eye, she can see how much thought he puts into each of his plays - the way he tricks the blockers to let his spikers fly high above them, the quick side stepping of increasingly frustrated attackers, the dump shots at the most unexpected of times.

She’s impressed, though she doesn’t want to admit it - because Atsumu has the personality of a puddle of muddy rainwater, and she's fairly sure he'd never let her hear the end of it if he ever finds out.

So it isn’t surprising when she spots him being hassled by a large gaggle of his fan girls outside the sports hall. They’re hanging off his arms begging him for autographs - and probably something much less innocent from the way his eyes are bugging out of his head. It’s tempting to walk away from him – it’s not as if he’s been particularly nice to her after all, but a few of the more rabid fan girls seem to get a little too close for comfort and she figures even he doesn’t deserve that . Plus he probably can’t just shove them off because that might cause yet another PR debacle that she and Osamu have become accustomed seeing in the news, so she breathes a sigh through her nose, cursing her conscience.

‘Oi asshat, your ride’s here’, she shouts as loudly as she can, shouldering her way to the center of the crowd. His fan girls stare in stunned silence, but Atsumu catches on after she shoves her spare helmet into his chest, and grabbing her wrist for dear life, they sprint all the way to her scooter.

‘Don’t tell me you’ve never ridden before’, she snaps as he fiddles helplessly at his helmet.

‘Of course, I have, what d’you take me for, some scrub?’ he retorts when he manages to strap his it on to his head. Her scooter groans under his weight.

Yes - she itches to retort, because he’s clearly lying. He fights to keep upright as she loops her way through bends on the road and maintains a white knuckled grip on the back of his seat until she comes to a stop two streets away where his fan girls are unlikely to see him.

‘So, where to?’ she asks him as he wheezes, trying to catch his breath. ‘I could let you off here, or we could grab some food - your choice.’

‘Eh… Could we drop by 7-11?’ he chuckles sheepishly.

‘Really? You want me to take you to a combini when your brother literally owns a restaurant?’

‘I’m cravin’ an egg mayo sandwich, what’s wrong with that?!’ he yells as she revs off, and she laughs when he squeaks and clings on to her waist.

They end up at a combini anyway. Atsumu buys his egg mayo sandwich. And a bucket load of oden. And a bagful of karaage. And two pudding cups (singly packed, none of the triple cup kind for him thank you very much). At least he steers clear of the onigiri section, because Osamu might explode otherwise if he ever finds out.

‘You’re paying the fine if my bike gets impounded’ she tells him sourly.

‘Relax - it’ll be fine’, he waves his hand airily at her. ‘’Sides, what’s a girl like you doing with a bike?’

‘A girl like me?’ she echoes, tilting her head in confusion.

‘Y’know - kinda square and all? I assumed so, since ‘Samu mentioned you’re studying to be an accountant’, he clarifies through a mouthful of food.

‘Square?! ’ she mouths at him, outraged, and he grins unrepentantly back at her, crunching on karaage. She abandons her annoyance to scoot back to avoid the ensuing spray of crumbs.

‘Do you want me to answer seriously, or was that a rhetorical question, gross pig?’

‘Please, I’m always serious, darlin’, he drawls.

She steals a fishcake from him in retaliation and he tries to rap her knuckles with his sandwich. They only settle down when the combini staff glare at them mildly in reproof.

‘I’ve always wanted to ride a bike ‘cos it seemed like it allowed its rider to be free’, she says, shooting a fond look through the window at her own scooter, rusty and old it may be.

‘I mean it allows you to get from one place to another, what’s so special about that?’ he asks, cocking his head in confusion.

‘Mm…well, not just that. You see, when I was younger, I used to be so jealous of my older brothers getting to ride their motorbikes. They refused to let me borrow it, so I stole it one day when they weren’t looking and took off - but because I was so excited, I hit the thrusters so hard on the way up a hill that I ended up crashing on the way down. But right before I crashed, there was a moment when I was on the top of the world with the wind in my face - it was the first time I truly felt alive .’

She closes her eyes at the memory, her mouth lifting into a smile. ‘And that’s what I become addicted to - chasing that feeling of being completely unfettered from the world, like a bird in the sky.

He stares at her meditatively, as though she’s a puzzle he can’t quite solve.

‘What!’ she exclaims, the tips of her ears flushing pink, suddenly self-conscious.

‘Nothin’, darlin’. Just thought that you’re more interesting than I thought’. Ignoring her indignant ‘ what?!’ , he stands up, brushing the crumbs off his lap. ‘Shall we get goin’? It’s about to rain.’

The ride back to his apartment passes in a blur of streetlights and gathering rain clouds, but thankfully it’s not as unpleasant as it was before as Atsumu eases into his seat, moving with her when she drops into a bend, loosening his hands on her waist. Still, she suspects it’s all bravado, as he stumbles stiff legged off the bike when they reach his apartment.

But as to be expected from a seasoned athlete used to the spotlight, he manages to plaster on a grin, cocky and charming enough to make her blush.

‘Thanks for the ride’, he says. ‘I wouldn’t mind coming out again with you for a ride sometime’.

Then he smiles at her, and it’s soft, shorn of the sharp edges she’s used to seeing. It plants an unfamiliar seed of warmth in her core that survives her race home against the storm.

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rurulyywrites · 2 years

Text

✨☁️ IT'S APRIL FOOLS!:Work it better make it harder!|Lilia Vanrouge|

Here it is EVERYONE!!!!

We're just continuing part one. This is part 2

Title(since it's very long):

✨☁️ IT'S APRIL FOOLS!:Work it better make it harder!|Lilia Vanrouge|

Pairings: none

Plot: everyone's getting harder to prank. With Ruru snitching about it being April Fools and everyone being on edge due to it. It made Lilia level up from east to difficult as the pranks progress. He needed to get smarter and that's why his pranks were intricate and complex. No one's gonna pass this April Fools.

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

Lilia POV

Everyone was clearly on edge. Some people dodging my water buckets and water balloon throws. Ruru really made it harder didn't they.

"HA! Not today Li--!" "A true prankster gas backups. Also,get pied!" "I HATE THIS DAY!"

Mission #2:

Octavinelle

h yes. Octavinelle.

Octavinelle is separated into levels.

Azul Ashengretto being easy due to just a small thing being off place will set the bomb to tick

Jade Leech being moderate since only big differences or problems will have him worry about everything

Ursula Gutio being Hard. She's a fellow prankster. She might get me before I get her. I have to be quick and complex. She won't tick unless someone's dying.

And ohhh Floyd Leech..

Floyd Leech being the boss. You have to have everything calculated and ready to go. He won't tick unless it's someone he loves that's dying. And when you're caught? Ohh.. he'll go berserk. Not only that,but he's also a fellow prankster. What a challenge it is.

this will be f u n

「Cafeteria」

"Let's eat!" Lilia said as he turned to Ruru who looked at him unamused "Yes,Child of void. We eaten together this morning,why not this noon?"

Malleus said as Lilia smirked "ok I have a name. But I'll pass. I'll go hang with the gang--" Ru was immediately stunned to see their friends with their fellow dorm members.

Even Ursula who hates Azul to the guts. "Looks like your friends ditched you" Silver whispered as Ruru rolled their eyes. "let's just go.." "Wonderful!"

Lilia said with a cheery smile. They all sat down,Lilia sitting in between Silver and Ru. "What are you planning,old man" Ru whispered. "Azul. He's so easy to prank--"

"I HAVE LOST MY LUNCH?! AND LUNCH RAN OUT?! WHAT IS THE POINT OF GOING TO THE GODDAMN SURFACE?!" And on cue,Azul shouts his complaint.

"Azul can you shut the fuck up? Just... Ugh. have my protein bar" Ursula said as he gave the dormwarden a protein bar and apple juice.

Azul was stunned by the sudden act of gratitude. "What? Picky tentacles. I'll leave 2 waffles for you. I'm on a diet" Ursula said as Azul sat down. Uneasy about the protein bar and apple juice. Thinking it might be poisoned.

"Well that's not technically a prank,Lilia." "Well do you know the prank?" Lilia said with a smug smirk. Ruru sighed "What is it" they asked as Lilia leaned closer to the dark teal haired's ear "I plan on having Azul and Ursula be friends."

This evil bitch

"You absolute moron. Ursula would never" "and at the end of the day. I'd have them have the worst fight ever,they'll go less than a pinch away from overblotting"

.....

Oh dear.

.....

Ending obtained:7/31

Let fate pull them apart after you build them together

Jade Leech

"So. Plans for the one of a hell of a student?" Ru asked as them and Lilia got to the botanical garden. "I removed every single mushroom" Lilia said as Ru looked at him with wide eyes before rushing towards the part of the garden with the most mushrooms.

He wasn't joking...

Ru thought as a whole kilometer of mushrooms were gone. "Any you did this when?" "I think it was 10 pm." Lilia replies. "The roots are gone as well. Don't worry,it'll be back to normal tomorrow"

Lilia reassures the dark teal haired as they sighed. "How the hell do you not have bags under your damn eyes."

And within minutes like it was on cue. Jade arrived. "Oh-! Hey Jady" Ru said as they lightly waved at the Octavinelle student. "Rury-.. p..pleasure to meet you here,Ruru and Lilia San"

Jade corrects himself "Did he just---?" "Nope. Anyways,why're you here?" Ru asked him,while blocking the loss of mushrooms behind their back.

"I was going to collect mushrooms,Ursula has recently taught me how to make a certain stew from its world" Jade said as Ru glared at Lilia.

"Hate to burst your bubble,but..." Lilia said as Ru sighed and moved aside(THAT RHYMED) to show Jade a whole kilometer of just soil.

No mushrooms.

Just soil.

"B..but.." "apologies,young one. But we also arrived to this news" Lilia said as Ru decides not to look at neither. "..... Why....." Jade looked like he was about to cry but immediately kept his posture and left without a word.

"Please put the mushrooms back tomorrow" "'Course!"

Ursula Gutio...

"What the hell are you planning?" Ru asked as Lilia was setting up a fool proof prank for their best friend,Ursula.

"Well I had 5 choices. 1,disrespect its pronouns. In which I thought would trigger its boundaries and I don't want that. 2,talk about sex and love. It's an ace and aro. And that's disrespectful. 3,Rice crispies. 4,have it be alone in the school grounds. Would need too much effort. And 5, public humiliation"

Lilia said as he pulled out his magic pen. "And I'm assuming you chose..?" "Public humiliation" Lilia said as Ru rolles their eyes and watches Lilia.

"Why are you here with me tho? Don't you feel bad for me humiliating your friend?" Lilia asked as Ru looked at him with a raised brow.

"oh,well. Let's say I have absolutely no empathy and no clue on what emotion in feeling right now. Besides,drama is everything"

Ru said as Lilia chuckled. Soon, Azul, Leech twins and Ursula all walked out of the building that Lilia and Ru were on the second floor of. "And here we go".

Ursula POV

"Ula Chan really needs to be careful,it's April fools!" Floyd said as us four exit the building. "I've recently planned a wonderful April fools prank. Although too much effort." I said,making Azul chuckle. I didn't know why,but Azul is being extremely nice. It's a change of pace between us,it was nice.

Just then.

I felt my sixth sense tingle.

I immediately looked up and saw water coming down its way. I pushed The twins back and giving Azul my phone before also pushing him back and--

*SPLASH!!!!!!!!*

Water with a force of a waterfall fell down on me. Being an Octavinelle student,my uniform was soaked and my original form showed itself. All I could hear were muffled shouts of my name due to the water current. It went on for 5 seconds.

Until I suddenly stopped.

It's so cold.

I'm so cold.

My eyes wandered around with my hands over my chest

"Look at it.. Ursula looks... Disgustin"

Stop please... Please..

Even if I sat down on the ground and covered my face. The whispers don't stop. Everyone saw my original form....

It was so cold...

Until..

I suddenly felt warm.

I looked up and saw Azul wrapping his coat around me. "What the-?!" "Come on" and with that. We left. All I heard were Jade and Floyd faintly shouting at everyone that they saw nothing.

3rd person POV

"What the fuck..?" Ru asked as Lilia slowly clasped. Ru also clapped as well. "what a show" "indeed. Better than that school play I starred at".

Floyd Leech

How do you prank such smart yet an imbecile of a being?

Lilia needs an idea.

#disney #twisted wonderland #wattpad #twst x reader #twst headcanons #twst fanfic #twst mc #writers on tumblr #anime #diasomnia #lilia vanrouge #april fools

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lazuli-bloom · 3 years

Text

Roses and Styx

Chapter 1 - An Inconvenient Attachment

Beetlejuice x Reader

Word Count : 5365

Sure life wasn’t always easy, it had it’s ups and downs, but you were doing alright for yourself. Mostly. However when you find a strange sight while on your lunch break one autumn afternoon, your life gets all the more unusual.

Archive | Next Chapter

--=--=--

The sun beat down on you, unobstructed by a single cloud in the vibrant blue sky. A pleasant breeze wafted by, chilling the heat of the sun’s kiss. Summer was in its death throes, but stayed determined to linger as long as possible. It gave an odd contrast to the scenery. The blazing warmth of a summer sun illuminating the turning leaves and tombstones on that early October afternoon.

You sat on a stone bench enjoying your lunch in the quiet peace of the graveyard. Most people avoided visits to the cemetery, not wanting to keep the company of the dead. You, however, frequented it. With few visitors and lovely Gothic inspired architecture, the cemetery made a relaxing place for lunch breaks. Plus, it was only a short walk from your job.

While there were benches throughout the graveyard, your favorite spot was one off in the corner and closest to the gate. That day, however, there had been a funeral held in that corner of the cemetery. So as not to impose, you picked a different bench to occupy. You tried to not let your gaze stay fixed on the graveside service, but the task proved to be easier said than done. The funeral repeatedly pulled your attention back to it by partly virtue of being an event you’ve rarely seen.

Many people, dressed in black, all focused on one grave. Most of the figures standing there were adults, but among the crowd were children clinging onto parents. The group was too far to get a proper look at any of the mourners, but there was one that stuck out. A man, slightly broad in build, wore a peculiar striped suit with wide vertical bars in black and white. You noted the clothing choice as strange, but tried not to judge. Perhaps he wasn’t able to get a solid black suit on short notice.

The strange pattern of the suit made it easy to pick him out against the other mourners. He didn’t stay still. He moved around, seeming to want to get other’s attention only to be ignored. The man’s bizarre actions, coupled with the indifference of the crowd, were major reasons you kept glancing back to the funeral.

You shake your head and check your phone, almost two o’clock. Time to head back to work. You grab your trash and get up with a stretch. With one last glance back to the funeral, you find the striped suit man looking back your way. You pay him no mind and check your phone once more before heading to leave.

To wring the most time and relaxation out of your lunch, you amble back to the hardware store. You turn to the next street where brick shops sat side by side. On the corner was a shop with a rounded, sun-faded green awning stretched over most of the front facade. Your eye glanced over the printed “Rose Creek Hardware” in yellow letters for what must have been the millionth time.

The bell above the door chimed as you stepped inside. To your left an older mustached man stood behind the front counter. He wore a light blue button down under a green apron, both tight around his rounder stomach. He gave you a warm smile that you returned.

“Back from lunch already, Cass?”

“Yeah. It’s really nice out today, I can hardly believe it’s October already.”

“Hopefully, when I get the Halloween decorations up, it’ll give things a more autumn feel.”

“Can’t wait to see it, Mr. Turner! Oh, and is Sam still here? Or have they left already?”

“They’re still around. Sam was helping the new hire.”

You nod and make your way behind the counter to retrieve your apron. After you get the strings tied, you do a sweep of the store. You found Sam in the back corner pulling merchandise forward. They didn’t notice you straight away, so you softened your footsteps for your approach. You stayed at their back until they turned enough one way that you could slip around to their side and not get caught in Sam’s peripheral. Once close enough to the shelving yourself, you slap your hands down on a bare spot- “-Missed a spot!”

Sam seized up, grabbing the shelf for support. “Geez, dude! You trying to kill me?” A wide grin breaks across your face. You chuckle to yourself as Sam regained some composure. They took a breath, shot you a glare, and got back to work.

“Heard you were training the new guy.”

“Yeah, he left already.”

“What’s he like?”

“Eh. Kinda boring? White bread personified, if you ask me. Dude came in with a dress shirt and tie.”

You shrug and start helping pull forward items. While turning products to have labels front-facing you continue on with your conversation. “Sounds like all I’ll have left to talk to will be Mr. Turner.”

There was a pause in that moment, and a sting of sorrow poked at your heart. You do your best to smother the feeling and focus on your work. It’s better to cherish the moment. You force yourself to smile and keep your chat going.

“So, there was a funeral today-”

Sam groaned and rolled their eyes at you. “You went to that creepy graveyard again? How are you not haunted?”

“Hey! I told you, it’s close by and usually quiet. I enjoy taking my lunches there. Anyway, there was a funeral and one guy there was in a weird suit with black and white stripes. Kinda like the Hamburglar.”

“I swear. You’re a magnet for the weirdest shit. It’s all those shitty movies you watch that seep into your head. How the hell do you not get nightmares?”

You stay silent and look over the product in your hand as your mind wandered back to your most recent nightmare. Piercing blue dots masked in shadow, watching every move you made. You shake your head to dismiss the thought.

You huff out a small laugh. “Guess that stuff just doesn’t get to me.”

“Whatever. Just don’t let any of your weirdness rub off on my cat.”

You press your lips into a tight line and tap your finger against the pliers in hand. “You sure there isn’t anywhere else he can go?”

“Cassie, I already told you I checked.”

“I’m just worried. I don’t think this is a good idea. My apartment doesn’t allow pets.”

“It’s just for two weeks. I’ll pick him up on the sixteenth. Hell, that’s not even a full two weeks, just thirteen days. You’ll be fine.” Sam finished with their side of the aisle and took a step back. “When do you want me to drop him off?”

You breathe out through your nose and make a noise somewhere between a hum and a groan. “Seven should be alright. Donna’s always heads out to the bars on Saturdays, so it should be clear by then.”

“You need to lighten up and not worry so much. Maybe a cute roommate is exactly what you need.”

You don’t give a reply and go back to work. The two of you split off and start tackling other sections of the store. Time marched on, and all too soon, Sam’s last shift ended. Mr. Turner bid them a farewell with a handshake and handed Sam their last paycheck. You give them a small wave and focus back on your task. You knew full well you were going to see them later that night, so you didn’t see the point of having a drawn out goodbye right then.

Once Sam left, the rest of the day dragged on slower than a sloth on crutches. When there weren’t any customers needing help, you talked with Mr. Turner. It gave you something to do, sure, but time still crawled.

That day was one of the worst kinds you can have in retail. The kind that’s just slow enough you bored out of your mind, and peppered with enough customers that you couldn’t slack off and dick around on the store’s desktop. It’s like they coordinated to space themselves out to be the most annoying.

As grueling as it took to get there, five-thirty eventually rolled around. You and the boss took the last half hour to close the store. Sweep, wipe down the counters, count the till, all that good stuff. You were in the middle of dusting when Mr. Turner handed you an envelope. You thanked him and opened it to count the bills inside. Five whole Benjamins. With another thanks, you move the bills into your wallet and get back to dusting.

Once all finished, you headed out, followed by your boss. He locked the front door and walked with you around the side to the small parking lot. He hopped into his old pickup while you climbed into your little junker. The bucket of rust masquerading as a car was on its way out, but you planned on getting every mile out of it you could. Mr. Turner had driven off by the time you coaxed your car into starting. The car sputtered and hissed, but you got the clunker going.

The drive to your apartment complex was as mundane and silent as ever. Your only option for music was to sing it yourself, since the previous owner had beaten the hell out of the radio. CDs weren’t an option either as the owner before the last had stuffed the disc slot full of cookies. For what reason remained a mystery.

You drum your fingers on the steering wheel as you drove, watching familiar sites go by as you neared your apartment. Nicer well-kept buildings and streets slowly turned to the more rundown variety. The street grew more broken and in increasingly desperate need of repairs as you went.

Building after building, you passed by until finally it was time to turn off. You pull up to your complex’s parking lot, just as run down as the roads leading to it. Two buildings sat facing each other, both in contest for which one can be the most rundown. Your building nudged ahead of its twin with the recent addition of graffiti marring the exterior.

You park in your designated spot, managing to not bump up against the two cars encroaching on your space. You worm your way out without adding anymore dents to the black sedan, and head to the complex’s front door. Standing near the door with a cigarette between clawed yellowed fingers was a scrawny older woman with a perpetual sneer on her wrinkled face. Cold steel eyes narrowed at you as you dared to approach the harpy.

“Hi Donna. How are you?”

“Parker! Where’s the rest of your rent?”

You force a smile to mask the spike of irritation. This harpy is going to be the death of you. You clear your throat to help prevent your ire from bleeding out into your tone.

“Right here, Donna. I get my pay on Saturdays.”

“Not my problem. Rent is due in full on the first. Today is the third.”

“I tried paying you last Saturday, but you-”

“The first, you stupid child. Not Before. Not after.”

“Yes Donna, I know. I’m sorry, I needed to replace a flat tire an-.”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. Just pay the rest of your rent and get out of my sight. You worthless leech, can’t even follow basic instructions.”

You press your lips into a tighter line to keep yourself from screaming at the horrid bat. It was best to bite your tongue and get the interaction over and done with as quick as you could. You pull out your wallet and hand over four bills. It was nice while it lasted.

Donna snatched the money from you and promptly counted it. Once satisfied, she took a long drag off her cigarette. She ordered you to leave while smoke seeped out of her mouth like a dragon.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You hurried off to your apartment, climbing the stairs to the second floor and making a beeline for your door at the end of the hall.

You shut the door, leaning against it and breathed out a deep breath. After calming yourself some, you set your keys on the counter by the door and step further into your little abode.

You make your way back to the small living room and crash on the dingy brown love-seat, tossing your phone onto the stained coffee table. You lean back and stare at the ceiling. A boring white painted over heavy popcorn texture, collecting all kinds of dust. You close your eyes and let your mind wander, wanting to squeeze some relaxation time out of the rest of the day. Too bad your phone rang.

Sam called to tell you they were on their way with the cat. You told them to be careful and not let Donna see them on the off chance that she hadn’t left for the bar yet. Sam, however, brushed aside your concerns and told you not to be so worried. You pinched the bridge of your nose and groaned at that. Sam wasn’t the one that had to deal with Donna and hopefully never will.

It wasn’t until a long while later that there was a knock at your front door. A quick check through the peephole showed you Sam was on the other side with a backpack and pet carrier. You open the door and hurry them inside. Sam stepped in, stopping in the space between the kitchen and living area, and looked over the place.

“Wow. This place is shitty.”

“Thanks, hadn’t noticed.”

Sam set the carrier down on your couch, and the cat inside growled in a low tone. Sam took off their backpack next and handed that one over to you.

“Here’s all of Rigel’s things; food, bowls, litter box, toys. I’ll be back in town to get the last of my stuff on the sixteenth, and I’ll pay you then.”

“I thought we agreed half now and half when you got back?”

“It’ll be easier to just pay you all at once.”

You drum your fingers on your thigh and let out a sigh. “Alright, fine. It will be nice to get two hundred dollars all at once.”

“See! You fuss over the smallest things.”

You change the topic by offering Sam something to drink but they declined. Sam still needed to pack up a few more boxes before the end of the night. You nod and give a small wave goodbye, only for Sam to pull you into a hug. Your muscles tense up, but you did your best to return Sam’s sudden hug.

There was a unique funk around Sam that made the hug even more challenging to bear. An overly strong lavender tried and failed to cover some mix of sweat and burnt coffee. Sam left shortly after, telling you to just call them should you need anything. You nodded and waved them off.

Once they left, you turn to Rigel stuck in his carrier. His hissing got louder the closer you got to the carrier, and was full on slashing at the front when you reached down to open it.

You recoil and let him be for the moment, choosing to set up his things in the bathroom instead. While your bathroom was on the smaller side, it seemed big enough for one cat to stay in. You pack up all the various toiletries that a bored cat might knock down and set out Rigel’s things. Litter box in the corner across from the shower stall, while his food and water were against the opposite wall between the door and the sink.

With that set up you go get the carrier. You did your best not to jostle it too much, but Rigel wasn’t pleased and let you know. He let out some of the most chilling demonic screeches as he knocked against the fabric carrier, desperate to break loose and slaughter you. You set the carrier down in the closet, closing one of the bi-fold doors so he had a dark corner to hide in. You braced yourself with a few steadying breaths before swiftly unzipping the front. Once open, you pull your hand back and leave the bathroom completely, making sure the door shut behind you.

You did your best to salvage the rest of your night, enjoying your cup of noodles while watching a movie. It was a B-Movie slasher about a supernatural being going on a killing spree in Las Vegas. And this somehow led to the being going to space in the next film. Overall, it was pretty cheesy, but got a few laughs from you.

Soon you had to wrap things up and head to bed. You sneak into the bathroom to swipe your toothbrush and clean them at the kitchen sink that night, and probably for the next two weeks. With a yawn and a stretch you change into sleepwear and crawl into your bed.

Sleep didn’t come to you easily, but it wasn’t a night full of endless tossing and turning, either. The rest you got didn’t feel like enough, as the buzzing of your alarm woke you too early for your liking.

You sat up rubbing your eyes and checked your phone for the time. The small screen on the back of the thin flip phone showed the time was seven o’ two. You heave out a sigh and pull the warm covers off.

While your body went through the motions of your morning routine, your mind wandered back to the images you saw in your dream. An island floated in the middle of a dark ocean with storm clouds rumbling high above. The cold wet sand pricked against your bare feet like needles, yet you kept on walking. You had found yourself on a rickety dock at least fifteen feet above the violent waves below. There was nothing around you, but you knew you weren’t alone. Down below, lurking beneath the water, two hungry orbs of blue glared up at you, waiting. Expecting. When you didn’t move from your perch, the beast thrashed at the pillars of the dock. You lost your footing and tumbled down to the abyss.

You shook your head, forcing your thoughts to jump back to the present. Chills ran down your spine as the nightmare crawled around in the back of your mind, clawing its way forward. You stuffed it as far back as possible and carried on with your morning.

You soon were out the door and on your way to work. You grip the toilet paper wrapped over your forearm, letting the lines of blood soak into it so it can better rest on your arm. Rigel had given you a few nasty scratches when you got him fresh water, the ungrateful bastard. At least there’s a first aid kit at work.

The bell above the door chimed as you looked at the time on your phone. The damn cat almost made you late for work. You make your way to the back room to grab your apron, only to bump into a man turning the corner. It took a second to get your bearings and notice you ran right into Mr. Turner.

“Oh shit. Sorry, sir.”

He laughed and waved you off. “Morning Cass, see you’re in a hurry.”

“Ah- no, well, kinda. I hit every red light getting here and-”

“You’re fine, don’t worry. No need to rush. Just get your apron and I’ll introduce you to the new guy.”

You nod and scurry back to grab the green apron. It hung by itself on the hooks, speckled in paint and smudges. By that point the thing was overdue to get tossed and replaced, but the same thing would end up happening to the next apron.

You throw it on and tie it behind yourself before going out to the sales floor. Mr. Turner stood next to a man younger than himself but older than you. The boss was the first to notice you and gave another wave. “There they are.”

The new guy turned and flashed you a wide smile, showing off straight white teeth in a hollow smile. Tamping down the disquiet, you force yourself to offer a smile in return. The man strode up to you and held out a hand. “Great to meet you, I’m Brandon! Mr. Turner was just telling me how great of a worker you are-” He squinted at your apron before going back to that fake smile- “Art. Interesting name.”

“Thanks,” you said, and hesitated a moment before taking his hand for a brief shake. On contact that strange buzz of discomfort shot from your palm through the rest of your arm. Once your hand was free, you fight the urge to rub off the non-existent traces of him. There wasn’t anything there, nothing real, and you knew that, but more than anything you wanted that feeling gone and the only way for it to leave was to brush it off. Why did people have to insist on handshakes, just needless physical contact with strangers? It’s stupid, and you hated it.

For the first half of your shift the boss had you go over the day-to-day tasks with Brandon. There were few customers in the store that Sunday morning, so you mostly had the guy pull forward merchandise and clean some shelves. Brandon did the tasks, but they all came with questions. Most of the questions were mundane things about the products stocked, store hours, and what times saw the most customers. The problem came when Brandon veered his questions towards you personally.

“So, is Art short for anything?”

“Artemis.”

Your answer was short and pointed. You already didn’t like that he was the type to read name tags over asking for someone’s name.

“Interesting. So you from around here?”

A shiver shot through you, and you’re quick to stop that line of questions. You ignore the question entirely, instead cutting in to tell him to finish front-facing the aisle while you go check on Mr. Turner.

The day dragged on until finally getting to your lunch break. Brandon, thankfully, caught on that you weren’t one to disclose much about yourself to a new face. However, that didn’t make the morning smooth sailing. You grab your lunch and speed off to the cemetery, eager to get a break from Brandon.

Your usual bench was free, and you took your place to enjoy lunch. Munching on your meal, you take in the sights, finding a serenity in the quiet. The sun shined brightly, causing some of the glossier headstones to reflect the rays. You hum to yourself and scan over the graveyard. To your surprise, you spotted someone in the far corner opposite you. Your brows furrowed, perplexed by the other. You watched the figure, curious of what they’re doing.

They wandered from gravestone to gravestone, kicking at the earth with hands stuffed into pockets. The build of the figure suggested a man, and one dressed in monochrome. You squint your eyes at them making sure you weren’t mistaken; but no, that was the same bizarre suit you saw a man wearing the day prior.

You keep your gaze fixed on him, wanting to figure out why he might be here a second day in a row visiting completely different graves. Did the man simply like to visit graveyards and have a limited wardrobe? If so, you didn’t want to comment on the matter out of fear of shattering the glass house.

You ate lunch with glances at the man. You wanted to piece together why he might be there. He wasn’t mourning; he moved from one grave to the next as if searching for something. The man in the weird suit went down one row of graves, heading away from you, only to hit the end and turn back for the next row.

You forced yourself to not look at him for fear of getting caught. But your curiosity burned, and you chanced a look up. He didn’t notice you, too engrossed in whatever he was doing. Embolden by that, you continue to munch away at your food and sneak glances at him. That is, until you swallowed wrong and went into a coughing fit.

You got your breathing under control a minute later and checked to see if he noticed. And oh boy, did he notice. The man was staring straight at you. It was awkward enough to get caught looking, but you noticed the man closing the gap between you two. He was still at the far end with well over two hundred feet between you, but you didn’t want to stick around and have that plummet to single digits.

Nope. You scoop up your belongings and speed-walk straight back to the store. You didn’t even chance a look behind you. Eyes forward and keep moving. You weren’t sure if he was actually still following; you didn’t hear any footsteps behind you. So that seemed like a good sign.

You blew past the door, bell violently chiming, and you made a beeline for the back. Your heart pounded against your ribs, wanting to break free and make a run for it. You take quick breaths, forcing the next to be longer than the last to get yourself to calm down. In the middle of collecting yourself, Mr. Turner walked into the back area with worry knitted on his brow.

“Cass, you alright? What’s wrong?”

“Is there a man in a striped suit in the store?”

He gave you a puzzled look, but left to do a sweep of the store. He came back half a minute later, shaking his head. “No, no one’s in the store dressed like that. What happened?”

“Nothing really. I just saw him in the cemetery and it looked like he was starting to follow me.”

He frowned. “Well, you just come to me if any creep is giving you a hard time. I’ll knock his teeth out for you.”

You manage a smile and nod. You take a few more breaths to calm down before you grab your apron. Things were going to be okay. The guy might not have even seen what store you went into. Heck, that guy probably didn’t even leave the cemetery. And even if he did, Mr. Turner was there to help you out of a tight spot. You smile a little brighter and step out onto the sales floor where you see the stripe suit guy looking at paint chips.

A strangled scream catches in your throat. You step back, dipping back into the employee’s only area of the store before he could see you. What the Hell were you going to do now? You couldn’t hide back there all day.

You push aside the fabric curtain dividing the sales floor from the back, and get a look at the man. With him much closer, you could see his green hair and the distressed look of his suit. He leaned forward, looking over the paint colors. Maybe he didn’t know you were back there. If so, you could wait in the back for a few minutes for him to just leave.

You close the curtain and slip your hands into your apron pockets. Your fingers brush over cool metal, and your thumb flicks up the slider on the side. It wasn’t much, but it was certainly better than nothing. Box cutter in hand, you look back out.

The stranger stayed put in front of the paint colors. You take a shallow breath, prepping yourself to go out. In the middle of psyching yourself up, you see Brandon wander over to the paint section. Hope bubbles up in you. The new guy can take care of him for you.

Brandon scanned over the section. He pushed down some color chips, looked over the desk before looking your way.

“Art! There you are.”

Brandon’s voice bellowed in the small store, not only earning a squeak from you but also causing the stranger to turn and look. You yank the curtain closed, hoping the man in the monochrome stripes didn’t get a good look at you.

Brandon parted the curtain a moment later and looked you over with knit brows and lips in a thin line. “Art, what are you doing back here? I don’t think it looks very professional for an employee to skulk around in the back all day.”

“The guy over at paint followed me from the cemetery.”

Brandon raised a brow at you. “There aren’t any customers in the store, and certainly not in paint, I would have seen them.” He pulled open the curtain with a flourish to reveal the man standing just on the other side. “See, no one’s there.”

Your eyes dart between the idiot holding back the curtain and the green-haired man tilting his head some with a grin plastered on his face. Thought processing came to a crawl as you tried making sense of what you were seeing. Your gaze lands on Brandon in the end.

“You don’t see anyone there?”

He rolled his eyes and looked back out to the sales floor. He then looked back at you with brows knitted further. “No, there’s no one there, Artemis. Perhaps you should stop taking your lunches in the cemetery if they’re just going to put scary thoughts in your head.”

Brandon frowned at you before stepping out onto the sales floor, going right through the man in the striped suit. He stopped to shiver, only to keep walking a second later. Once he left, your wide eyes landed on the man still standing there, still grinning and showing off sharp yellowed teeth.

“Hi there!”

Nope. Nope nope nope. You grab your box cutter and pull it out to point at the guy. And without a word you push aside the curtain more and go around the man. The man whined at your action and followed you.

“Come on babes! Don’t ignore me, I know you can see me!”

You keep walking, heading straight for Mr. Turner. He turns to you at your approach and the small smile fades from his face. “Cass? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The gravelly laugh behind you sent shivers down your spine. You did your best to shake off the feeling and forced a smile.

“I’m not feeling too good. I was hoping I could go home early today.”

His lips sink further into a frown, but he gave you a nod. “It’s fine by me. But what about that man you were talking about that followed you from the cemetery? Are you going to be okay?”

The man behind you continued to laugh. You tighten your hands into fists, the metal of the box cutter pressing hard into the flesh of your hand.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay Mr. Turner. See you tomorrow.”

He nodded, and you handed over your apron while keeping the box cutter in hand. You offer one last quick goodbye and head out the door, the bell only chiming once. You march down the sidewalk and hear the strange man continuing to talk.

“So, babes, where are we heading?”

You pause at your car door. You take a few quick breaths and finally respond to this... person. “I’m going home. I’m obviously not feeling well and seeing things that aren’t there.”

You slip into your car and promptly lock all the doors. You heave a sigh and lean against the steering wheel as your brain sorts through all this nonsense. A groan rumbles in your throat and you lean back in your seat. In your peripheral, the man in the striped suit sat in your passenger seat sporting a sharp grin. Well shit.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #musical beetlejuice x reader #roses and styx #my writing

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harrypotter-imaginess · 4 years

Text

Part 1 Here!

A/N: I’ve been writing this since March, and finally wrapped it up. Slightly NSFW, and apartment scene is inspired by Lore Olympus by Rachel S.

- You’ve been dating for 2 or 3 months.

- You do it basically every chance you get

- You moan as he pushes you up against the wall, trailing kisses down your neck, sucking at your collarbone

- “Dra-Draco please” you mumble into his shoulder

- “When do you have to be back at work?” He asks between kisses, piercing grey eyes peering into yours

- He never seems to lose his composure, not even during sex

- Which of course only makes you more flustered

- The first time, it had been fairly dark

- But over the past few months you’ve been with him so often you’ve got a very good idea of what his body looks like

- Toned arms, a firm outline on his abs, pale skin blooming with the hickeys you’ve left

- Not to even get started on that face

- No wonder you couldn’t keep your hands off of him

- He bites your collarbone and you yelp, only to be met with a raised eyebrow in return

- You feel your face grow hot, you were so busy admiring him, you forgot to answer his question

- “H-half an hour I think” you mumble.

- He frowns, that’s not as much time as he’d like

- “I guess you’re going to be late” he mumbles against your skin, his hand making quick work of your blouse

- You’ve got this glow, and everyone has noticed

- “Hey! Took a long lunch today?”

- You feel your face growing warm, your hand moving over the new hickey forming on your neck

- “Just lost track of time” you say with a laugh

- You haven’t told anyone at work about you and Draco because of his popularity in your office

- “Hey (Y/N)! Come over and look! The hot guys walking by our office again!”

- Draco’s got a scowl on his face, thin, pale eyebrows practically pressed together. His eyes hold a fierce glare.

- God, you haven’t seen that expression on him in months

- You had completely forgotten that you both hated each other at first

- You catch a glimpse of his soft, pale hair, falling against his eyes. A gloved hand moves to push it aside.

- A hand that had been somewhere rather intimate only a handful of minutes ago.

- Draco’s never been happier in his entire life

- Even his employees have noticed

- “Is it just me, or does Mr. Malfoy seem more chill than usual?”

- “Yesterday That part timer, Natalia, spilled coffee all over his coat. He didn’t even blink, just said ‘these things happen’, usually he’d sack her on the spot!”

- “Maybe he finally got laid”

- They both laugh at that, while Reginald is practically sweating buckets at his desk behind them

- Little do they know they’re spot on.

- Ever since Draco started seeing you, he’s constantly come to Reginald for advice on “navigating the muggle world”

- “The traps of the muggle world are terrifying” Draco had said with a shiver. “Y’know she wanted me to use one of these?”

- Draco pulls out a condom

- “I mean what even is this? A sweet? It tastes just like plastic”

- Reginald’s not sure what’s more embarrassing, that his boss tried to eat a condom, or that he had to spend an hour and half explaining what a condom was to him, and how to use one.

- “So you can shag as much as you want with these, and nothing happens?” Draco says with a face of sheer amazement.

- Reginald has to remind himself to be empathetic. He’s lucky his parents are muggles, and generally very open minded.

- It’s not surprising Draco doesn’t know anything. The wizard world’s typical propaganda encourages procreation to increase the wizard population.

- The truly desperate can drink a potion or cast a charm, but Reginald’s sure something of that sort is never discussed in pureblood familys.

- “Muggles are pretty brilliant aren’t they?” Draco’s staring at the small plastic square in his palm, with true wonder.

- Reginald can’t help but smile, he looks like a kid that just discovered sweets

- “They are”

- Draco’s feeling pretty good, he’s got your favorite take out in one hand, flowers in the other, and a smile on his face

- He’s got someone he loves, he knows what condoms are, he’s on top of the world

- “Draco, how come I’ve never been to your place?”

- Happiness is fleeting, and reality is a lie

- He’s just set down the take out on your dining table, watching you sitting on the edge of the sofa

- You’re only a few feet away from him, but you feel an ocean away

- Well, he can hardly tell you that he still lives with his parents and that they despise Muggles and would probably curse you before you could even make a sound

- His mouth opens, brain scrambling to find an excuse

- He’s going to go with “he lives at his parents estate” when he actually looks at you

- You’re not looking to him, waiting for an explanation. You’re looking at your hands, eyebrows creased together and teeth nibbling into the flesh of your lip.

- He places a hand under your chin, nudging your face to look up at him.

- “Is that really what you’re worried about?”

- It’s not

- You were too much of a coward, and chickened out asking him your initial question

- You hadn’t thought of it before today, when all the women in your office crowded around the window to look at him

- He must have women throwing themselves at his feet

- You were together so often, you doubted he had the time to have anyone else.

- But you never had dates at his place, always yours

- In fact, you had never visited his place

- He could have an entirely different life than what you imagined, and this relationship, the blossoming feelings inside of you could just be in your head.

- Well, you’re only half right. Draco does have a whole other life, but not like you think

- “It’s just- what are we?” Biting on your lip, mustering up every ounce of courage you have you add “...are we dating?”

- Or are you both just f*cking

- He’s taken aback that this is what you want to ask, and honestly he’s a bit annoyed

- In his mind he’s already given up so many things to be here with you now

- His pride, his family, his heritage, he’s even ready to give up magic if it comes to it

- It’s all so obvious to him, that he doesn’t realize it’s all in his mind, he hasn’t conveyed any of this to you

- A softer expression moves across his face, as he takes you in, your gaze lingering on your hands.

- Of course you’re confused

- He kneels beside you on the ground, his fingers wrapping around your hand

- “Of course we’re dating, you’re my (girlfriend/boyfriend), my lover, my significant other, my partner” each title is pronounced by a soft kiss on your knuckles. He peers up at you through his eyelashes, taking in your flushed face

- You’re his entire future

- “How do you feel about me?” He asks, his breath held in his throat as he watches you carefully

- He’s only now realizing that much of your relationship has existed in his mind

- The thought that perhaps you don’t see your relationship as anything long term only occurs after the words leave his mouth.

- You’re flushed hiding your face in your large sweater

- It’s hard for you to be honest with your wants and needs, especially in relationships

- “I want you to be my boyfriend” you mumble, and he squeezes your hand

- The words take courage you didn’t know you had, but Draco’s grin is worth it.

- He places kisses on your hand, then your face, and finally your lips. You feel his smile, and can’t help but smile as well.

- Then his kisses trail to your neck

- “Draco... the food will get cold...” you murmur, but your hand creeps under his shirt.

- “It’s fine,” he mumbles against your neck. “Gives me an excuse to invite you to my place for a proper meal next time”

- Cue to the next day, with Draco sitting across from his mother in their home. She’s flipping through a book with her wand.

- “I want a flat!” He practically shrieks out, Narcissa doesn’t even look up

- “To own, or rent?”

- Crap. He didn’t think this far ahead, he didn’t really think the words would actually come out. But he promised you a date at his place, and he can’t exactly bring you to the manor now can he?

- Besides, possible hexes and curses aside, his parents being here would definitely kill the mood

- “Rent, I guess. It’s just hard commuting to the office from home.”

- He half expects his mother to tell him to quit then, not like he needs the salary anyway. They have plenty of money.

- But instead, she says:

- “Fine, I’ll tell your father to contact our real estate connection.”

- Draco lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, about ready to walk away, his mother looks up from her book for the first time

- “And Draco,” He meets her gaze, stopping midway from exiting “do bring them home sometime.”

- He’s attempting to play dumb when his mother adds

- “And make sure to cover up the marks on your neck before you see your Father. You know how he is.”

- Draco just nods, feeling the heat creep into his face.

- Apartment hunting is surprisingly stressful. Partially because of how little he understands the muggle world.

- “This is the electrical closet, it stays locked.”

- Muggles. Don’t they realize he can just use a quick ‘alohomora’ to open it.

- When the realtor isn’t looking, he opens it, takes in the air conditioning unit and the wires, and promptly closes it again

- The muggle world is truly terrifying

- He ends up choosing a flat a few streets away from yours, in a posh upscale building. Naturally he lives in the penthouse.

- He considered moving into the same building, but decides against it

- He has to remind himself that even though he plans on marrying you, he has to play it cool.

- From your perspective you’re a new couple that’s still falling in love

- He hates his apartment, he doesn’t understand how anything works, he has to cook all his meals himself, and he didn’t realize how much cleaning went into living without servants

- He has a newfound respect for house elves as he scrubs pasta sauce off of the ceiling

- In addition, none of the appliances in this place are enchanted, which means he has to actually use his hands to turn on the water or open the refrigerator

- He hates it

- “Wow, I considered this building too, but it was pretty expensive” you say as he helps you out of your coat

- You wonder if the reason he never invited you over was because he was trying to hide the fact that he came from money

- Not like it was a secret, what with the clothes and the restaurants he took you to, he was either rich or close to bankruptcy

- Draco’s just hoping you haven’t figured out he only moved in a week ago

- Thankfully the red sauce stains on the ceiling and Draco’s inability to clean very well thoroughly mislead you into believing this is a well lived in apartment

- Your eyes twinkle as you take in the incredible view from the large panel window in his living room

- “The views absolutely bewitching” you murmur with a smile, enchanted as you gaze at the twinkling lights of London

- He watches you, watching the lights. You look like you’re almost glowing, your form wrapped by the scenery

- “You’re the one that’s bewitching” he murmurs, watching your grin

- Well he can manage for a bit longer

#harry potter imagine #harry potter preferences #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy headcanons #draco malfoy imagine #harry potter headcanon #harry potter x reader #draco malfoy reader insert #draco malfoy x Muggle reader #draco malfoy x you

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sadpotatoondrugs · 4 years

Text

Time For a Change Ch.4

<< – First

<< Prev | Next >>

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Marinette is embarrassed and I’m ashamed of myself

——————————–

“I… think that’s everything?” Marinette questioned quietly after checking that she had all the items on her ‘bring with me’ list… For the third time. After she got back from her meetup with Kagami the day before, she made the list of all the things she would need to pack. She wasn’t stressed about bringing clothing or something like that, but rather about an emergency sewing kit and such.

But wait, wasn’t the wedding supposed to be two days from the meetup? Marinette said so herself!

Yes, indeed she did. But she forgot about one thing.

You see, since her parents were asked to cater for the buffet of the wedding, they had to arrive earlier than all of the guests, including the groom and the bride. While the wedding itself was going to be on December 14th, it was going to start early in the morning – which meant a ton of things to prepare the day prior. Along with being asked to cater, the Dupain-Chengs also held the positions of a bridesmaid and a maid of honor, so they were going to oversee the preparations and make sure everything goes according to plan.

“Marinette! We’re leaving in 15 minutes! Make sure you have everything!”

“Yes, maman!” Closing the suitcase, she sighed in relief. Looking over at the bridesmaid dress, currently laid on her chaise in a garment bag, she started bringing her luggage downstairs. She struggled a little bit, more because of the maneuvering than the weight; She had been working out, after all.

She brought her luggage to the van they borrowed and placed it in the appropriate place and went around to the back to potentially help her parents with loading the cake into the van.

Why ‘Borrowed’, you ask? No? Well, I’m gonna tell you anyway.

The bakery they bought a long time ago wasn’t originally a bakery. Her parents built the bakery from scratch and were happy with the results. At the time, it didn’t even matter to them if the place was small; they were just starting out and were barely known. Even as they became well-known, their customers commented that the bakery was warm and welcoming. The downside was that the building had no garage, which was becoming a problem with their rising number of orders. Thankfully, her parents were grateful for a friend of theirs that provided delivery services. They cooperated on big deliveries and often shared a part of the income. Thus, their problem was solved.

After helping her parents move the cake and many, many pastries, desserts and many more heavenly sweets for the buffet, the family got into the van and begun their two hours long way to the wedding venue.

When they arrived, it was already 10 AM and the workers there were already hard at work. Even though they were present for probably about 3 hours, the venue was barely decorated – but that was acceptable, given the space they were working with. Nadja, being a successful reporter, had met a lot of people in her life and made a lot of friends along the way. It was to be expected that the wedding was going to be big. And by big, we mean Castle of Esclimont big.

From what Marinette saw, chairs and tables outside were already set up randomly with people moving them to find the perfect placement and there were boxes of decorations waiting to be opened. The place was already being decorated with fake and cold-withstanding flowers to give in to the theme of the wedding. The family made their way into the castle, where the rooms for the guests of the wedding were supposed to be.

“Alright, Marinette. If you need us, we will be helping out with the decorations.” Her mother smiled gently, walking out of the room with her husband in tow.

Marinette looked around the room, taking in the details of it. The design of the walls, floor and furniture reflected the style of the building. It held the feeling of being in a royal bedroom. The furniture, while new and modern, was styled in a way that basically screamed ‘history’. But as traditional, antique, old-fashioned, however you may call it, as it was, the hand of modern technology did not just pass by the area without leaving something behind. There was a safe in the corner of the closet, a TV opposite of the bed and the bathroom the room was adjacent to was fully modern.

Which was completely understandable. As much as the old-time look of it all made Marinette admire the building, she (and, probably, everybody else) would certainly not want to pee in a bucket.

Checking the hallway in case her parents forgot something, she closed the door into the room and approached her bed, where she opened her suitcase.

“You can come out, Tikki.”

Tikki immediately flew out of her chosen’s pocket and looked around, darting to every corner of the room. Marinette let her kwami search for a hiding spot while she upacked a few of her things. She didn’t know how long they were going to stay, but if things all went according to plan, they would leave the day after the wedding. She didn’t want to unpack all of her things in case she wouldn’t even use them. She unpacked her hygiene products, her pajamas and casual clothes, putting them into the built-in closet next to the bridesmaid dress.

Last, she brought out her sewing kit and laid it next to the door, where it was easy to find and reach in case of a fashion emergency. Nothing could ruin such a special day. And nothing would.

Marinette could only hope that Hawkmoth wouldn’t decide to send out an akuma while the ceremony was held.

Tikki returned soon after Marinette finished unpacking her stuff and they both made their way outside to see the decorations and help out with the preparations.

When she got there, she saw a glimpse of her father helping carry two tables into the garden. Instead of calling out to him, she searched for her mom.

She found her by the entrance of the castle, carrying various sweats and pastries out of the van.

“Tom already brought the cake in, so all we have to do is take the other desserts over to the kitchen fridge.” Silently, Marinette started picking up boxes of treats from the van and followed her mother into the kitchens. She was pleasantly surprised that the kitchens were well maintained, unlike those in certain restaurants. The place looked properly cleaned, with small exceptions that could be pardoned in such a big kitchen.

After about half an hour later, the van was completely emptied and Marinette and her mother went over to help with the decorations. Being close to the bride, Sabine went over to the woman organizing the furniture and the two discussed the arrangements together. Marinette, not wanting to butt in on their conversation, helped various people with moving the furniture to the appropriate place and, occasionally, suggesting a change of the placement or décor.

They took a small break around lunch, to eat and relax for a bit, before going back and managing the details and making sure the staff at the hotel all knew about the wedding and had instructions on what to do. There was still quite a few things to décor, but that would all be finished in time for the wedding the next day.

At 7pm, they took another break to eat dinner and, again, relax. By that time, the majority of the venue was ready for the wedding ceremony. Sabine even sent Marinette away, saying that they’ve got it handled and she could do what she wanted. She helped out for a little while after that with table decorations, before she decided that she really was tired and went into her room.

She passed by a glass door and, with her curiosity taking over, peeked through the glass. She saw a garden; different to the one where the wedding was to be taking place, which was behind the castle. This one was on it’s side, so it seemed. There was a pretty big pool with folded chairs next to it. Since it was so late, she didn’t see anybody else in the pool garden, so she buttoned-up her coat and stepped outside. As she approached the pool, she noticed an archway on the side of it, connected to a stone wall that wrapped around the area of the garden. It was a pathway into another building that belonged to the castle grounds, trees were planted on one side of the sand path, the other being protected by the castle’s wall. She didn’t want to venture further, though. As guests, they had restrictions and she didn’t want to accidentally enter a place where she wasn’t allowed. She turned around, about to head back into her room, when she heard a rustle in the bushes nearby. Startled, she quickly turned around to get inside as quickly as she could – it was already hard to see outside, after all, when she bumped into somebody.

The impact wasn’t strong enough for her to fall over, but it did make her stumble. She began apologizing straight away.

“Oh my go- I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going- I-“ Looking up, she froze in place.

Her first thought was Adrien Agreste.

Why?

Because in front of her stood a boy strangely too similar to her blond classmate.

She would assume it was Adrien further, had she not noticed the distinct differences between the two. For instance, while the boy in front of her had the same shade of golden blond hair as Adrien, they seemed to be a bit longer and combed to the side. His face strangely resembled Adrien’s in the structure, but upon closer look, Marinette could see that he had sharper cheekbones and a more defined jawline. Lastly, the most distinctive feature, his eyes. Instead of green, Marinette stared into a pair of silvery grey eyes.

There was a pause, before Marinette realized the situation they were in and stepped away from him.

“Sorry, I- ” There was another pause, as Marinette took in his appearance. He had a coat on, unbuttoned, and she noticed he wore a formalwear. It was similar to what she saw some of the castle staff wear. Her eyes widened. “-I’m so sorry, I didn’t see any sign that this area was prohibited to guests. Please don’t tell the security, or call your boss, or anything, I was just curious and-”

“Miss, I assure you that you are not in any trouble. This area is indeed available to guests so you do not need to worry.” She sighed out in relief, “Also, I am not an employee.” She stiffened up again, her eyes widening slightly. Great, now she unknowingly insulted him.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I just saw your clothes and assumed- I’m so sorry.” He nodded, a sign that he took her apology. The conversation seemed to end there, which Marinette didn’t mind. The situation was embarrassing enough and she was glad to head back.

The bush moved again, though, which cause both their heads to turn into it’s direction. She saw the stranger move towards it and reach out to it. A moment later, out of the bush emerged a black kitty. It was more of a cat, but still held the resemblance of a kitten, hinting on it’s young age.

“So that’s what was hiding in there. You really startled me, little guy.” Marinette whispered softly, making the kitty wince slightly before cautiously stepping fully out of the bush. Only after the stranger crouched down did Marinette notice a bag in his hand.

She watched as the stranger pulled the contents of the bag out and handed them to the kitty, who was obviously hungry. She smiled subconsciously, admiring the care he showed. Not in a romantic way, though, but Marinette always admired kind and good-hearted people. There weren’t many of them in the world, after all.

She turned around and left the two alone, walking into her own room.

Tikki scolded her only a little bit for wandering off somewhere this dark and alone. She knew that Marinette would hold her own against many people, but it didn’t ease her worry for the young heroine. If something were to happen to her physically after what she had to endure emotionally in school… Well, let’s just say we wouldn’t want another ‘Plagg accidentally uses cataslysm’ event.

She was simply worried.

Marinette returned to her room a little after 8pm, changing into her pajamas and turning on the TV, she grabbed the sketchbook and filled it with the many ideas for designs inspired by the old-fashioned style of the castle.

Her parents came back a little after 10pm, wishing her a good night before heading into their own room to rest. She followed suit and, after setting up a few alarm clocks to wake up in time to prepare for the wedding, she went to sleep.

The morning was hectic. Marinette couldn’t imagine what Nadja must be going through at the time, because she was nervous as hell, and she wasn’t even the bride. Her morning started normally, with her daily morning routine.

The wedding starts at 10, or at least, that’s when the vendors arrive to prepare for ceremony setup.

Nadja was already in the castle, having arrived in the middle of the night due to personal reasons, and will probably start getting ready for the wedding soon. Marinette wanted to stop by in case she needed help with the dress or to announce that if something were to happen at any time, she is prepared and to find her.

Stepping out of her room, she noticed that the halls were already busy with people running to prepare for the ceremony. She kept her guard up, evaded any possible collisions with others and made it all the way into Nadja’s dressing room.

Knocking on the door, she heard the voice of her mom yell out “Come in! But if you’re the groom, you’re gonna feel my foot on your back as I kick you out!” Giggling quietly, she entered the room and greeted the women. There was only her mom and Nadja that she recognized, then three other young women, who she assumed were friends of Nadja and probably the other bridesmaids.

Nadja was still out of her dress, and it seemed that the preparations were only starting, as the women were only spreading out hordes of make-up and bottles of nail polish on the table now.

“Good morning, mom. Good morning, Nadja. I hope you’re well rested.” Nadja gave her a sheepish and a little nervous smile.

“I mean, as well as a bride on her wedding day can be.” She smiled at the woman, before her attention was switched to her mom, who faced her suddenly.

“Good morning, sweetie, could you please inform your father that I’ll meet with him at the ceremony? I don’t think I will have enough time to tell him myself, so I would need you to give him this.” She handed her a notebook that she grabbed from a nearby table, “And, please, help him out with setting up the buffet.” Marinette nodded and headed for the door, before pausing.

“Oh, Nadja? If there is any problem, I brought an emergency kit. If anything happens, find me immediately.” Nadja bid her thanks and smiled at her appreciatingly. Marinette nodded again and made her way into the kitchens. She found her father and gave him the notebook, which she found out was filled with notes about certain foods and directions on where to put them.

She helped him out with setting up the buffet table and putting up final decorations on the tables. By then, it was already 11am and the vendors were hard at work with their own preparations. The first guests would arrive around 12 o’clock, so by then, she would have to be ready.

She released her hair from her pigtails and put on her bridesmaid’s dress. With a little bit of Tikki’s help, she managed to zip it up and move on to the hairstyle. She looked herself over in the mirror, deciding on what to do with her hair since the bridesmaid’s weren’t instructed on a specific type of hairstyle to use. She decided to leave it simple and put her hair into a bun, similar to the one she did when she was younger, only slightly different thanks to the difference in her hair length from then and now. Last, she let out a few streaks of hair on the sides of her head to better frame her face.

She felt satisfied with the results, the last thing to decide was whether or not she was going to put makeup on. She wasn’t very skilled with it, since she normally didn’t use it, hence her hesitation to do so. In the end, she used a red lipstick and a little bit of blush. At the very least, her red lipstick would match her red earrings.

When she was finally all done, it was almost 12 o’clock. She was surprised by how long it took her to get ready. She grabbed a small red purse (she silently celebrated that she brought it along just in case), where she put her phone and where Tikki would be hiding for the rest of the day – she didn’t need to bring any more of her stuff, since if she needed anything, it was like a five minute walk to her room. Putting the purse around her shoulder, she went over to her dresser where her bodice and flower crown were, put it on and swiftly left her room.

She arrived around the same time as the first guests did, for she saw a pair dressed in formalwear talking to one of the staff who was pointing towards where the ceremony would be held. She went out of the palace and into the garden, pulling the furry bodice closer to her form once she realized how cold it really was.

She waved at her father, who’s eyes widened when his attention switched to her. As she approached, he warmly greeted her with a hug.

“You look beautiful, darling.” Giggling, she did a 360 before walking over behind the buffet table.

“Thank you, same goes to you.” Her father wasn’t one for formalwear, he claimed that it was stretchy and uncomfortable, so he chose not to wear it unless he really had to. But Marinette had to admit, it did look good on him.

Looking over the notebook her mother provided earlier, she began arranging various items on the list into their stated places. She had no idea why the food had an order in which to be placed, but she didn’t question it. She just did as she was instructed. While she did that, her father kept bringing more and more of the pastries. At one point, Marinette worried that it wouldn’t all fit on the table.

She later found out that there was a secret fridge/freezer under the table, out of the eyes of the guests and easily available for the stuff to resupply the table.

They finished quite fast, not even half an hour later, they were finished and left the table for the staff to resupply when needed. She talked with her dad for a while before he was called by a group of people she didn’t know. By the way he greeted them, though, he seemed to know them quite well. She looked around, searching for a familiar face. Spotting none, she turned towards one of the people struggling with the cables for the lightning and sound. She approached them and offered a helping hand.

Halfway through the work, the guests were invited to head over to where the ceremony was being held, so Marinette bid goodbye to the workers (who thanked her for the help), and headed over to the ceremony stand. The ceremony itself wasn’t going to start right away, Marinette guessed it would take another thirty minutes, but she wanted to be able to relax before the main moment of the day starts. That, and in case she had to quickly run away.

She stood of slightly to the side, by the table where the drinks were served – there was literally a punch bowl like in those high school proms on tv. She opened her purse, checking subtly on Tikki while grabbing her phone and opening the news channel.

While Nadja might be absent for a while and a bunch of her coworkers were attending the wedding, there was plenty of reporters still working and being on call if there was an akuma present. She was glad that she didn’t see any alert for one and would had to hope that it would stay that way for the rest of the day. Putting her phone back, she turned around and decided to drink a little before the ceremony.

She went to pour herself a cup of punch, subtly even asking Tikki if she wanted to try it since she never had any and didn’t know how it tasted.

Meow.

She looked around, quite startled by the sound. Was that a cat she just heard?

Her eyes fell to the ground behind the drink table, where the same black kitty from the day before was hiding. Her eyes softened as it meowed again, it’s voice a bit strained.

“You, again? What are you doing here, little guy? You cannot be here.” A meow was the response she got. Her eyes fell on one of the bottles of water on the table. She grabbed one and approached the kitty. She filled the cap with it and offered it to the kitty. It seemed cautious for a bit, sniffling the cap before drinking the water inside.

After refilling the cup five times, the kitty no longer wanted to drink and only kept looking at Marinette and meowing.

“Perhaps it’s hungry?” She heard a familiar voice behind her, and only then realized that the kitty wasn’t looking at her anymore but at something behind her. Turning around, her eyes widened slightly before going back to normal once she relaxed.

“The buffet table won’t do, the items there seem to all contain chocolate. We might need to ask one of the cooks for a roll.” Marinette nodded while the blond approached the kitty slowly. She watched him interact with it, gently reaching out his hand for the kitty to sniff, before gently picking it up. Marinette wondered if she should let him take care of the kitty alone, but she replayed his sentence in her mind and realized that it held an invitation to come along. And, seeing as the ceremony room was still only half full of people, she came along.

It was a silent walk, something that Marinette found slightly uncomfortable for some reason.

“Sooo,” She started, seeing him slightly turn his head towards her as an indication that she had his attention gave her enough confidence to continue, “you’re a guest of the wedding, too, then.” He turned his head back into it’s original position.

“Yes, it would seem that way.” He responded quite blatantly. It would sound a little on the harsher side, but Marinette didn’t see any emotions of annoyance or anger on the boy’s face, so she assumed he was simply being polite. “Perhaps it was cold, it’s not meowing anymore.”

The two paused to look at the kitty. It seemed comfortable in the man’s arms. As soon as it noticed their eyes on it, it meowed again.

“Or not.” Marinette stated, before pausing. “Are cats even allowed in the castle?”

“Even if they’re not, we are just taking it into the reception before taking it right back outside. It shouldn’t cause any trouble.”

She nodded. The two made their way into the reception, where the man dealt with the receptionist who immediately ran over to inform them about the no pet policy.

Marinette left him alone with the kitty and the receptionist while she went into the kitchen. She asked one of the cooks who she met the day before for some rolls, if they had any. They offered her a baguette on the house and she happily accepted.

When she walked outside, she saw the man patiently waiting by the door outside, with the kitty secured in his arms. She walked over to him and the two walked back outside.

“I wonder what’s going to happen to it.” She wondered out loud. The boy looked at her questioningly. She continued, “I mean.. It’s still just a kitty. And it’s about to be winter and this little thing is clearly homeless.” The boy seemed to ponder over her words for a while.

“Well, you could take it in yourself.” She shook her head at the idea, already knowing too many reasons as to why that was a bad idea.

“I live in a bakery and we cannot have pets inside. The possibility of a cat hair being in one of the products is way too high.” She informed him, which he seemed to nod at.

“Perhaps we can ask around if anybody wants a kitty. One of the guests here might be looking for one.”

“Yeah…”

The two reached the garden with the pool, now occupied with a few of the guests. They walked over to the tree they found the kitty the day before and sat it down. Marinette crushed the baguette and picked out the soft inside of it for the kitty. They sat there for a while, just watching the kitty eat.

“Sorry again about yesterday.” The boy looked her way again, silently. He was not much of a talker, Marinette noticed. Or perhaps he just didn’t feel like making big talk with a stranger. “About bumping into you, I mean.” Suddenly, he made an expression different to the neutral one he wore up until now.

She cursed silently, she probably just made him uncomfortable now or something.

“Oh, that was you?”

Marinette blanched.

He didn’t remember her!

She suddenly felt embarrassed again.

What’s with this place always making me feel like a fool?

“Heh… Yeah…” The conversation went quiet after that, and Marinette actually thought about just turning around, saying her goodbye and bolting out of there.

“I apologize. I didn’t quite pay much attention to you yesterday. My focus was mainly on the kitten.” She sighed out, at least he was making an effort to lessen the tension.

“Well, let’s drop the topic. I’d rather not relieve that moment again.” The kitty sneezed and their attention was immediately on it.

“We should leave the little guy here for now. We’ll see if it remains here until after the ceremony is over.”

“Yeah.”

The two stood up and walked back into the gardens. The place seemed to be full with guests, most of them were already sitting in their assigned chairs. Marinette paused, unsure if she should stay and converse with the boy or head over to meet up with the other bridesmaids for the walk down the aisle. But, seeing as he didn’t seem to move either, she stayed.

“In what relation are you to Nadja?” She asked, actually curious.

“I am merely an acquaintance. It’s my mother that actually knows Madame Chamack.” He then looked at her in a way that suggested he was asking the same question.

“My mother and her are long-time friends and our families are actually really close.”

“I see.”

Right in that moment, it was announced that the ceremony was about to start. As the rest of the guests started to walk over into their assigned seats, she turned to the boy for the last time.

“I must say, even though our first encounter wasn’t the best, Mademoiselle…”

“Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” She smiled kindly.

“Very well, it was very nice meeting you, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng.”

“The pleasure was mine, Monsieur…”

The boy reached out his hand, which Marinette shook gently.

“Felix. Felix Graham de Vanily.”

[masterlist]

Okay so I fucked up and forgot to add a taglist, sorry guys, please forgive my dumbass self <3

@miraculous-ninja @moongoddesskiana @flufflepuffle296 @wannajointhecrabcult @meme991001 @ladybug-182 Really sorry guys. Also, if any of you wanna be added to the taglist, just msg me directly or comment on this post

#time for a change #Marinette #marinette dupain cheng #MLB #fanfic #mlb fanfic #ml salt #salt #felinette #felix culpa #felix graham de vanily #Felix #ml class salt #lila salt #Marinette deserves better

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cheeriecherry · 4 years

Text

Birds Of A Feather [2/7]

Hawks x Fem!Reader

Warnings: like, one swear

Part 2/7

It’s been a week since you started your new position at Hawks’ hero agency. It’s a nice workplace, very accommodating for the staff, and the sidekicks and interns you work with are friendly and sociable. But there’s still a little piece of you that’s bitter.

You appreciated the job, especially when you discovered what your monthly paycheck would be, but the whole place was just so damn...busy. If you’d known that you’d maintain your hectic lifestyle after moving to Japan, you never would’ve come in the first place.

On top of that, despite your presence being requested by the man himself, you’d yet to actually meet your new boss. Not a conversation, a text, a simple hello, or even a red feather. At this point, you were wondering if the guy even existed.

You decide to mull it over some more on your afternoon lunch hour. You find your usual seat in the staff lounge, and pull out a container of chicken curry.

“Hey Y/N! Hawks says he wants to see you in his office!”

You pause with a forkful of food halfway to your mouth, glancing over at the young sidekick who’d just bounced in. “Can it wait until after lunch?” you ask, hoping to at least finish your meal before dealing with whatever you were wanted for.

The sidekick looks sympathetic. “Sorry,” she says, “but I don’t think so. He asked me to tell you to bring your food…”

You sigh deeply, but thank her for passing the information on. Don’t shoot the messenger, and all that. You begrudgingly pack your things back up and bid farewell to the few people in the room, all of which are ominously quiet.

That didn’t bode well.

----

A few minutes later finds you outside Hawks’ office, balancing your lunch container in one hand while you knock on his doorframe with the other.

His door is wide open, and you can see him sitting at his desk, facing the window and the view of the city. He probably knew you were there before you knocked, but there was no harm in being polite… though he might appreciate the humour of you walking in like you owned the place.

“You wanted to see me, Boss?”

He spins around in his chair, a charming smile gracing his features. You wonder idly if he’d planned that little spiel, and if so, how long he’d been sitting like that for.

“That I did, chickadee! Pull up a chair, make yourself comfortable, eat with me.”

You do as you’re asked.

“Sorry for not seeing to you sooner. It’s been such a busy week, villains and disasters all over the place. I swear, I’ve been to every end of the country.”

You sit tidily on the chair, legs crossed and wings tucked up neatly behind you.

“I understand,” you tell him, “you’re number two, after all. You’re in high demand.”

Hawks smiles wider, but you get the feeling it’s lacking some genuity. You don’t call him out on it, though.

“That’s a relief,” he sighs, slouching back a little. “I looked into you a bit before I hired you, y’know? Gotta make sure you had a good track record, blah blah, PR crap, blah, anyways. The reports said you were a pretty easygoing person. I’m glad they were right!”

You pray he doesn’t notice the slight ruffle of your feathers. Easygoing? Is that what people thought of you? You supposed there were worse things to be known for, but you? Easygoing? Maybe you’d become an actress if the whole hero gig didn’t work out for you, if you’d fooled that many people.

Easygoing. Yeah right. Burnt out, exhausted, apathetic, those were all accurate descriptors. But fucking easygoing?! Hah.

“Hey, you alright, kid?”

You’re about to ask him what he means, to tell him you’re fine and completely unbothered, but your stomach has other plans. Right when you open your mouth to speak, a loud growl interrupts you, aggressively sounding in the quiet of the room.

His grin softens a bit, a touch more kindness apparent on his face. He’s concerned.

“I didn’t mean to take your lunch hour away,” he apologizes, “I had actually wanted to catch you earlier today, but you were on patrol. I figured it wouldn’t be very cool of me to approach you and get swarmed by fans. Not productive for conversation, that.”

You shrug. “I haven’t taken it personally.” In fact, you hadn’t taken it at all. He could have never spoken to you ever, and it wouldn’t have made much of a difference. You were here to do your job, and anything else was an unguaranteed bonus.

“Anyways,” he pulls out a paper bucket of what looks like KFC, and pops the lid off, “eat up. Don’t need my favourite employee dropping out of the sky from exhaustion.”

He digs into his own food, and you take yours out.

“If exhaustion could do me in, I would have fallen out of the sky a long time ago,” you mumble, immediately afterwards spooning food into your face.

Hawks bites off a small piece of chicken. “Whadya mean?” And you curse yourself for forgetting he’s sensitive to sound.

You chew your food pensively, making sure to swallow before you speak (unlike him…). “It’s like. Okay. Wing quirks are pretty rare where I’m from, yeah? In my old job, I was the only airborne hero for five hundred kilometers. I got called all over the place, back and forth, never in one place for very long, almost never at home in my own bed. I was sort of...uh…”

“Spread thing?” he supplies.

You nod. “Spread thin. It wasn’t healthy for me. Anywhere that makes you grow to hate your own quirk can’t possibly be good for you.”

“Now hold up, chickadee,” he interrupts, leaning forward in his seat to rest his elbows on the desk. His eyes are wide and surprised, like he’s unable to fathom your words. “How could you possibly hate your own quirk?”

You think for a moment. “Hate is maybe a strong word,” you admit, “but there’s definitely some contempt there. Flying used to be my favourite passtime, y’know? The views, the wind, the sun, the silence. And then one day I woke up and thought ‘god, I hope they don’t make me fly today’.”

Hawks picks a little at his lunch, but is far to engrossed in your tale to pay much attention to it.

“Yikes,” he says.

“Yeah.”

You’re both quiet for a moment before you start speaking again.

“Two weeks after that happened, I moved here. Figured a change might be nice, good for my head, or whatever.”

“And how’s that working out?”

“I still hate flying.”

The conversation ebbs and flows after that, with Hawks not supplying much personal insight on the matter, despite you just spilling your guts to him. You don’t mind, though, and he doesn’t strike you as the kind of person to open up very easily. You probably would have been more disgruntled if he’d offered you some kind of similar story.

The two of you talk a little about work, what your old agency was like, where you went to school, and the questions centered around your life, and none prying into his. You make note of that, and file it away for later.

By the end of the hour, you’re sufficiently full of chicken curry, and your boss looks like he’s fairing the same (you’re not sure how he managed to pack away an entire bucket for fried chicken by himself).

“Thanks for lunch, Boss,” you tell him with a smile, an unspoken ‘it was kind of weird’ in your tone. If he picks up on it, he doesn’t say anything.

He does, however, stop you at the door, tugging you back into the room by your collar with a single red feather.

“Say, chickadee,” his voice is coy, “how’s about we make the afternoon more fun?”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Come patrolling with me,” he clarifies.

“Why?”

“Flying’s more fun when you’re not alone!” he says, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You doubt him, thinking back to all the times you’d ever flown with someone else (re: none). You relent, deciding to entertain his plan.

“Fine. But don’t fall behind, okay? I take my patrols seriously.”

The strange smile returns to his face.

----

After packing up your dishes and throwing away your trash, you follow Hawks to the stairwell. He said it was best to take off from the roof, if you didn’t want to get bombarded by fans.

“Ah, but I’m sure your fans would love to see you!” you tease, marching carefully up the steps. “It wouldn’t take too long, surely?”

He glances over his shoulder at you, pausing so suddenly that you almost get a faceful of his feathers.

“Well sure, if they were just my fans. Most people have seen me before, though, flying around, fighting crime. But you? You’re new. Your fans in Japan haven’t gotten to meet you yet.”

You tilt your head. “I...don’t have fans, boss.”

“You’re kidding, right?” He swivels around on the step, wings brushing quietly against the cramped cement walls. His expression is one of exasperation, and a hint of disbelief. Once he sees your genuine confusion, however, he sighs. “You really have no idea, do you?”

You shake your head. “I’ve only been here like two weeks. How could I have any significant following?”

He looks at you with a fondness reserved for naive children, or puppies. It’s a little patronizing, in your opinion.

“International heroes are pretty big here, you know?” he explains, “and you, little chickadee, were voted number four on the overseas popularity poll this year. Your fanbase here is rivaled only by a handful of heroes, most of which are in Japan’s top ten.”

You’re shocked, to say the least, and Hawks takes your silence as cue to continue walking.

You dodge his wings again, and resume following him.

“How could I be popular and not know it?” you ask. “Surely someone would have approached me by now-”

“Chickadee, when was the last time you were on the ground-”

“This morning-”

“-in the daytime?”

“Oh.”

You think back a little. You’ve patrolled in the skies since you started working at the agency, and your shifts started before sunrise. Plus, you usually flew home, well after sunset. It was just easier than trying to fit into a car and deal with traffic.

“I guess...not since the day I arrived.”

“Exactly! No one knew you were here, then. But now?” He pushes hard against the heavy metal door to the roof, taking a deep breath when it opens and a breeze blows through. “Now, all of Japan knows we work together!”

You saunter out into the sunlight, basking for a few seconds in the warmth. But the thought of your fans quickly overtakes your mind again, and the relaxation is lost.

“Are you sure it’s not fame by affiliation,” you wonder, “because seriously, I didn’t have fans back home. I’ve never been stopped for an autograph, or asked for a photo. I’m cool with that. I just don’t want people to like me because I’m near you sometimes.”

Hawks steps up on the lip of the roof, wings spread wide and overlooking the city.

He stays like that for a few seconds, and you note the deep tiredness in his posture, behind his eyes. You’ve seen it in your mirror too many times.

He’s just as exhausted as you are.

“Thus is the way of the world,” he mumbles, and you’re not sure you’re meant to hear it.

But then he perks up, as quickly as a light switch. He turns on his heel to face you, mischief and playfulness glinting in his smile. “I’ll race you to the bank tower? If I win, you gotta go on patrol with me tomorrow, too.”

You shrug, and take off into the sky. It’s not much of a fight, though. He has agility and familiarity on his side, and he’s waiting for you by the time you finally arrive at your destination.

You don’t mind.

#hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #reader insert #winged reader au

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sickviking-fr · 3 years

Text

This is a long one, fellows. Buckle the fuck up.

Y'all know I only started this job two weeks ago and was all excited but it all went to shit day one. Well I got an offer from Walmart to start at a dollar more and I took it.

So last night was my last night at this grocery chain and I guess the universe knew it. The manager was happy for me so that was good, he'd been super nice and supportive for the few days since I gave him my resignation so I came in deciding I was going to give my all and do the best I could. I shot down four energy drinks because I knew it was going to only be me and one other on the shift and I was determined.

Those energy drinks took an hour to kick in but once they had I was WIRED and Manager appreciated it. About half an hour into the shift, Manager pulls me and the other guy (we will call him Jack for no reason) to the side, clearly high on caffeine himself, to give us the low down. He gives us a huge list of stuff to do and says he's sorry, its ordering night and he's all alone so he can't help us. And like, I get it, shit is the opposite of streamlined and efficient here, as you all know from my bitching, he's got a lot of work ahead of him. Jack and I have to do the work of 6 people and Manager has to do the work of three.

"Time is our enemy tonight, guys, we don't have a minute to spare standing around talking. lets get to it!" he finishes his speech.

Me, being out of my gourd on energy drinks, yell "NO BOSS! WE CAN'T ALLOW TIME TO BE THE ENEMY! LETS GO BOYS, WE'RE MAKING TIME OUR BITCH TONIGHT!" Manager punches me in the shoulder and says "Heck yeah, thats the attitude I wanna hear, why the fuck are you leaving me?!" and with that he's gone.

Now. When I said that, Time looked over at God and said "Hold my flower. No, hold my fucking flower! Who is making who their bitch? We'll see about that!" And God sayeth unto Time "Kick his ass babe, I got yo flower."

So my first task was to stock Gatorade and the energy drinks which I did in record time, taking only a half hour to do about two hours of work, working three pallets and condensing them down to one AND wrapping it up so Manager can swing by with the forklift and haul it off no questions asked. I'm feeling invincible. Next, me and Jack have to go stock water. He's exhausted, was up all day and feeling sluggish so not a whole lot of help tbh. Thats okay I'm running on four energy drinks and the high of imagining the boss begging me to stay, I've got this!

There's several pallets of various types of water container on the floor to be organized and stocked, and I'm on it like a fly on dogshit. In only fifteen minutes I put up a full pallet worth of gallons (Probably about 60-70 gallon jugs) before Time makes her move.

I don't know where Jack is, I'd sent him to move another pallet a while ago and he's not back yet. I move on to the 2.5 gallon jugs with spigots (Different brand but this same jug tbh) get about twenty up, only have four or five more that can fit on the shelf. Both hands are full of these heavy ass jugs, I lift one up onto the shelf and the spigot comes off. It just pops the fuck off. I drop the second in surprise and its spigot pops off. There's water pouring everywhere, I'm now soaked and panicking trying to gather up these jugs and get them turned in a way so they aren't pouring water everywhere and I am swearing profusely this whole time.

The wooden shelf is soaked, I'm treading water and Jack comes around the corner to see if I'm okay, sees me juggling water and starts laughing his ass off. We double team taking down all the water I just put up so I can mop the floor and the shelf. It takes the two of us over half an hour to dry everything and get the water back on the shelf.

Jack starts in on the 2 gallon bottles while I finish cleaning up. As I come back from throwing the broken containers in Claims, I see Manager has arrived with a fresh 5.5 foot high pallet of these 2 gallon waters (Its also vital to note that these come wrapped in plastic in packs of 6, which we are separating to sell individually), both are laughing, Jack is facing away from me doubled over with laughter.

"All I hear" He says "Is suddenly 'SHIT...SHIT SHIT! FUCK-SHIT FUCK!' and then just 'squeak squeak squeak'. His shoes sounded like Spongebobs boots!!" And at this point I realize my shoes are squeaking in the water but their shoes are not (I still do not know why...) As soon as Manager hears my squeaking shoes coming towards them, he also becomes consumed by giggles. Ha-ha, okay y'all shut up so we can carry on. I'm still trying to be impressive here! But I guess we are opening the water packs too slowly for Manager because he takes his special plastic cutting cutter and starts slicing open packs so we can just grab the jugs and throw them up.

EXCEPT HE'S NOT PAYING FUCKING ATTENTION! He cuts this one pack thats on the edge of the stack, three of the waters immediately start to fall over dragging the whole pack with it and now six, two gallon jugs come crashing onto my foot and also suddenly I'm wet again. Manager doesn't realize it hit my foot, but I shout and he says "Don't worry, its plastic they wont break." This phrase gets repeated ad nauseum the rest of the night to mock him.

"Well that would be great except they all fucking exploded!" he just looked at me stupid, then started swearing too. My foots fine, thanks for asking. Actually its not, my ankle is killing me as I'm writing this but whatever.

All six jugs broke open at the bottom seam and are now spewing fresh spring water onto my newly mopped floor, under the pallet and soaking into my shoes. Again. I'm running around trying to gather as much of these jugs as I can as fast as I can and get them to the sink. Again. Meanwhile my shoes are squeaking anew. Again. Jack cannot stay standing, what between laughing at Manager for busting open six gallons, repeating "It'S pLaStIc! iT wOnT bReAk!" and laughing at my squeaking footsteps running all around the two of them.

Manager has us leave the spilled water and stock, then when we are done he moves the pallet and sends the janitor over with the zamboni to clean up the water while sending us to fill up a display of cases of 24 bottled water other-where. Jack is now awake and still melting into fits of giggles every few minutes, and with his newfound energy he's tossing the cases up onto the display and then punching them into place instead of just putting them there. Toss a case, punch-punch-punch, flex, repeat. (Did I mention Jack is 18? What is it with teen boys constantly wanting to show off? Like bro who are you showing off to? Its literally just me and Manager here.) I keep telling him to knock it off but eventually, you guessed it, he pops a couple bottles.

Its already the four hour mark by the time we clean up all the water and get the rest of the packs all on the display. Smooth sailing from here on out, yeah? We're done with water, everything that needs to be on a shelf is on a shelf. It has to be easy from here. We think so anyway. It can't possibly get worse, we've still got shit to do! Innocently, we go to lunch and I chug down another energy drink. Okay so we are done stocking, its now time to face the shelves(AKA make them look nice). Manager sends me and Jack to the opposite ends of one isle, Jack arranging pickles and vinegar and I'm freshening up condiments. Suddenly I hear Jack yelling and cursing.

For several days, theres been a mystery bottle of vinegar by the Huntz that no one knows where it came from but also no one has bothered messing with. We've just been nudging it to look nice lined up with everything else and if someone buys it good if not, well it seems happy there. Its kinda shaped like this but plastic and not quite a gallon. It's filled full to the lid.

Jack decides to remove it today. He grabs it, lifts it about three inches, and the neck comes off. Just comes the fuck off. Its a perfectly clean separation at that seam where the neck connects to the body. The entire contents are now soaking into Jacks clothes from mid-chest to his shoes and puddled all over the floor. I rush over to see that he's okay and then go to get the mop for him. I can smell the vinegar from four isles away. It takes nearly another thirty minutes for him to get that properly cleaned up and then he has to take a break to change into his spare shirt because the smell is giving him a headache.

By the time he comes back, I've finished that isle and moved on to the cereal + juice isle and the store is now open. I tell him that he must have felt left out that Manager and I both made bigger messes than him with the water so he had to one-up us. This seems to make him feel better. Jack starts working juice while I'm tidying up the snacks and gummy candies. An older couple come up to me to ask about Rice Krispy Treats. I don't know where they are other than the ones I'm holding so I go to ask Jack. Poor Jack. I call out to him as he's kneeling in front of orange juice with both arms shoulder deep in the shelf and as he looks at me, for some fucking reason he squeezes his arms together in a hugging motion around maybe 8 jugs of juice.

Several fall into his lap and a customer must have gotten thirsty yesterday because someone took the cap off one jug and just left it there. Jack is now soaked chin to toes in orange juice. There is a looooot of swearing as I run over to check on him and then run off to get the mop and bucket from the back.

At some point the janitor had taken the mop from where we left it by vinegar and used it to mop up milk that the Dairy folks had spilled (so the bad luck wasn't just towards our crew, Time was taking her frustrations out on everyone). Anyway, the bucket is full of maybe four gallons of milk water and also the vinegar from earlier so it stinks but I don't have time to put fresh water in it because there are customers in the store now and the juice is a major slip hazard.

I'm pushing the bucket through the isles and I run over a drain like I do every day and thousands before me have done, except the drain cover decides TODAY IS THE DAY, NOW IS MY TIME. It kamikaze pops off and the bucket wheel goes straight in the hole, tipping the bucket over and spilling four gallons of stanky milk water every-fucking-where. Also, apparently this POS building wasn't built so that the floor sloped towards drains so the water is just flowing further and further out in every direction. Now I'm panicking trying to push as much of this water into the drain asap so I can get the bucket over to Jack so he can mop up the OJ. And I see the older couple are still waiting, toe tapping and pointing at their watches as soon as they see me. And then get all pissy that we didn't have any smaller packs of Rice Krispy Treats in yet.

Jack fucks off to the bathroom to dry as much as he can of himself while I do my best to hunt down the Janitor to send him and the Zamboni down juice, vinegar and the main pathway where the vinegar-milk-water spilled and is still stinking up the joint. Jack didn't come back for probably 40 minutes, I was honestly surprised he came back at all, I didn't think he was going to.

Manager has no idea any of this shit has happened because he's been darting off everywhere like a squirrel on coke doing his own thing. He's got the rest of those 2 gallon bottles from earlier on the fork lift and has us follow him to the frozen section. He wants us to add what's left to a display over there where we are selling the full 6-pack cases. He drops off the pallet and is gone before we can say anything. Jack, understandably, is beside himself pissed and starts literally throwing the water up onto the display and then punching them into position. Like, he's full force punching these things like gym equipment and chanting "It'S! pLaStIc! iT! wOnT! bReAk!". And of course, he pops two bottles. We still have 2 more hours of our shift left, plus 2 hours of mandatory overtime.

THANKFULLY, once we cleaned up that water the rest of the shift was uneventful, but it took forever because we were exhausted physically and mentally and pissed

#not fr #long post #this took forever to write up

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chilling-seavey · 4 years

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Heartbreak Hotel (d.s.) - Chapter Five

A/N Not me listening to Greased Lighting while writing this

The fact that Christian insisted on driving separately to the auto shop had Daniel in immense confusion but Christian was half down their street before he could protest. So Daniel drove himself farther into the city and parked on the industrial lined street outside the shop for his first shift. He only got a job at the very bottom of the ladder – washing cars and vacuuming the interiors – but it was better than nothing and certainly better than Jack and Zach’s terribly uniforms.

The young men in the shop had Daniel nervously hesitating in the entrance, eyeing their light grey mechanic overalls with oil stained white-shirts underneath and facial structure to make anyone feel emasculated and Daniel ran an anxious hand through his hair before walking inside. The boss was an older man with a big belly and he literally did nothing but sit in the office in a cloud of smoke and pump through a few cigars in one day.

Daniel’s presence seemed to hinder his terribly important day as he got up from the old office chair was a grunt and led him back out into the shop to show him what he was expected to do on his shifts. Christian glanced up from one of the cars, his arm working under the hood and a single dark strand of his hair falling over his eyes. He looked away.

“We like to shine ‘em up pretty before sending them home with customers so once our men finish the hard work you can wash them over here.” the boss gestured to one of the empty corners of the garage, his words muffled from the cigar that was stuck in his mouth. “Hose and buckets are on that shelf. Soap’s here. Vacuum is in that cupboard. Sometimes it needs a good tug to get started, but don’t we all?”

He let out a gruff laugh and Daniel only blinked at him, confused, but offered a nervous chuckle and a “yeah” just to humor him.

Daniel was soon left alone, told to wait until a car was ready to be cleaned and just sit in his corner and not bother anyone. So he did, sitting on top of one of the boxes and scanned the shop to familiarize himself with his surroundings. He watched his brother for a moment, how he worked on the car like it was easy, his arm flexing under the rolled up sleeves of his grey uniform and when he stood back a moment, Daniel could see a rectangular patch above his right breast pocket that read Seavey. Christian brushed his wrist across his forehead to get his hair out of his face but he smudged a bit of grease over his skin, unknowing.

Suddenly, the garage was filled with music and Daniel glanced across to the other wall where another young man had just turned on the radio. He looked about Christian’s age too with slicked back brown hair and oil and grease covering his hands. He wiped them on the towel that was draped over his shoulder but some still managed to stain his t-shirt and when he turned back around from the radio, Daniel’s eyes dropped to his name tag, half of it covered in oil but he could still read Marais in block letters. He caught Daniel’s stare, sending the younger boy a furrowed glance through hazel eyes and Daniel looked away quickly.

The third employee was near the back of the garage and Daniel recognized him as the guy from the diner the other day, the same blonde streaked hair and light eyes that were narrowed in concentration as he worked. Daniel couldn’t help but think of the girl again, wondering how such a coincidence occurred where his taste lined up with what she was eating but yet, she already had a soulmate. Or so it seemed at least.

When lunch break came around, the four employees gathered around the table in the breakroom to eat their packed lunches. Daniel was left with a seat empty between him and Christian as the three older guys sat together and the new boy was on his own. Daniel didn’t mind; he was slightly intimidated by the others anyway and he ate quietly while they talked in their little group.

“Leftovers again, Corbs?” Christian laughed teasingly as they all took out their lunch.

The boy from the diner scoffed, shaking his head through a smile, “Yep. Mom’s the queen of leftovers and she’ll be making my lunch until I get Loretta to get herself in the kitchen.”

“Until you get the balls to propose to her more like.” The second boy corrected.

“I’m in no rush.” Corbyn smirked.

“Right, right.”

“Just cuz you popped the question fresh out of high school doesn’t mean I’m going to.”

“Get it over with.”

“Loretta wants it be special.”

“And mine wasn’t?”

“You asked her in the middle of a drive-in movie, Jonah. That’s hardly romantic.” Corbyn retorted.

Christian chuckled into his cup of water.

“You’re a liar, Corbyn.” Jonah tisked, “We weren’t even watching the movie.”

The three guys laughed.

“Whatever. I couldn’t care less about a proposal but you know how my girl is; she loves that mushy shit.” Corbyn leaned back in his chair.

Daniel frowned into his sandwich, keeping his eyes on the tabletop as he just listened.

“Maybe by the end of the summer.”

“At least you have a girl to propose to.” Christian said.

“Ah, you do to.” Jonah assured him.

Christian shrugged.

Daniel glanced up at his older brother before looking back at his lunch without a word.

“You gonna have some fun before she comes back?” Corbyn asked.

“How do you mean?” Christian asked.

“Little thing on the side? Swipe up a random girl and get a night or two.”

“Nah.” Christian shook his head, “I don’t roll like that.”

“Well me neither, my girl and I are going steady just fine, but she’s also not in Europe for who knows how long.” Corbyn said, taking a sip from his bottle of Coke. “A man’s got needs.”

“Cut the gas, man.” Jonah scoffed through his eyeroll. “Not like you would know anything about that.”

“I do so!” Corbyn retorted, leaning his elbows on his knees as he turned towards his friend. “I just don’t go blabbing about it like you do.”

Their lighthearted argument was interrupted by someone ringing the bell to the garage in need of assistance, so they all packed up to get back to work. Daniel didn’t know much about these two new guys after only meeting them that same day, but he didn’t know if he was much of a fan.

This was only proven when he returned to his corner and was handed over the keys to one of the cars that was finished being fixed up and Corbyn nudged his leg with the bumper of the car as he drove it into place. Daniel stumbled only slightly and Corbyn got out to ruffle a hand through his hair and smack the keys into his hand,

“Make her shine, buddy.”

#🍓#daniel seavey #why dont we #christian seavey #jonah marais #corbyn besson #soulmate au #why dont we fanfic #daniel seavey fanfic #wdw #why dont we music

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oikirstein · 4 years

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𝟎𝟑 | 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,097

𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝: 1/30/2021

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: Mentions of depression and suicide

If you find any of these topics triggering, please refrain from reading; proceed with caution.

Have you ever stuck your hand in a bucket of ice cold water and felt how your skin burned so much it went numb? That’s what living felt like to you.

The clock made half a rotation before you could even look into his eyes. You didn’t know what to say. It was an awfully weird and awkward situation to be put in, and you wondered: how were the others before you able to come to such a difficult decision?

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” said Suna, who sat comfortably in his chair scrolling through his phone.

You were suddenly snapped out of your daze from his words. Had you really been staring?

“Sorry,” you mumbled, once more looking down.

“Nah, don’t apologize,” he slipped his phone back into his pocket, observing your avoiding gaze and slumped shoulders, “I know how...shocking it is to be told all of this. Take a day to think more about it.”

“How will I be able to tell you my decision?”

Suna slowly stood up from his seat, the legs of the chair screeching against the wood floor. He flashed you a sincere smile and took a step towards where your body sat.

Leaning in, he whispered into your ear, his tickling breath causing blood to rush towards your cartilage, “Trust, I’ll know when you need me.”

He straightened up before winking at you, taking half a beat to take in your unreadable form, before making an exit through the glass doors and disappearing into the night. After gulping down the last of your drink, you too got up from your seat and hastily took your leave, the last thing you heard being a sweet “Come again!” from the barista who was wiping down the marble counter.

The next day, you went to work as if nothing had happened the night before. As if you didn’t sneak onto the roof with the intent to jump. As if you didn’t scream into the abyss of the blinding Tokyo lights. As if you didn’t come face to face with a literal angel. As if you weren’t deciding between life and death. No—you chose to do what you did best. You chose to shove all that shit, all the events and all the thoughts, deep down into your brain. You didn’t want to think about this—you couldn’t anyway, as the phone ringing to your left was waiting for you to answer the call.

“Bouncing Ball Corp., how can I assist you today?” you effervescently said into the phone, your voice an octave higher than usual.

This is what your day-to-day life consisted of. Answering phone calls, scheduling meetings, getting energy drinks for your boss, filing contracts, relaying messages, redirecting calls, and ordering lunch for the floor, all before noon. You were just a simple secretary. Nothing really special about your job. You didn’t necessarily hate it—it was what you did to get by—although some nights you laid in bed consumed with insomnia only to be left thinking about what you would be doing if you’d listened to heart instead.

The day was mundane and tedious, muscle memory caused by your routine left no gaps for surprises. As you entered your studio apartment and kicked off your shoes, you placed all your body weight on the back of the heavy door, inciting a quiet slam that rumbled the surrounding frame and walls, dropping to your ass, hugging your knees, and raising your left arm to lock the knob.

Oh yeah, you thought, this is why. Your laugh was borderline hysterical as you tilted your head back to rest on the door and stare at the ceiling. Soon giggles and guffaws turned into sobs as your fists hit the floor and tears ran down your flushed cheeks. Exerting so much energy into your wails, your voice refused to come out—mouth hanging open, eyes squeezing shut, clutching at your chest as if the ache echoing throughout your bones would silence. Your eyes burned with your mascara leaking into the whites prompting you to finally get up and drag your feet to the bathroom.

Look at you. You were pathetic. You stared at yourself hunched over the counter, hands resting your weight on either side of the sink. Your hair was a mess from running your fingers through the strands and pulling at the roots. Your temples were red from the contact of your palms. Your throat was dry from the strain. Nothing made you look more insane than your bloodshot eyes and rorschach tests painted on your skin, though. Once more, you laughed while looking down at the diluted black drops on the faux granite. Life wasn’t fun anymore. It hadn’t been for a long time.

When your eyes traced your form back up to make eye contact with yourself, you realized you were no longer alone in your tiny studio apartment.

Swiftly turning around to face the figure, you stifled a scream.

There Suna stood, his arms crossed and leaning against the doorframe, his gaze intensely focused on you and your eyes.

“W-what are you doing here?” a whisper was all you could muster, hand loosely covering your mouth.

“I told you I’d know when you’d need me,” he uncrossed his arms and hesitantly took a step towards you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, first watching if you were okay with the contact. You tensed up before you could relax under his touch. It’s not like he would hurt you—he was an angel wasn’t he?

“C’mon,” he tilted his head towards the couch, which was just slightly out of view from where you stood, “let’s sit down.”

You simply nodded and followed him to the worn out loveseat that separated the poor excuse for a living room from the kitchen.

“I have a feeling you’ve come to a decision?” he waited for you to get comfortable before taking a seat next to you and stroking your knee with his thumb reassuringly.

He was right. You didn’t really need to take time to make a decision—you’ve known the answer since he asked you the question. You needed time to come to terms with your new reality, since after all: euphoria numbs the pain, but the hurt is still there nonetheless. Both outcomes were the same, so might as well take the chance to spice up your life, right?

You stared at his hand which lay upon your skin, why had it calmed you down this much?

“Yeah,” you then looked back up to his eyes before gifting him a small grin, “let’s do it.”

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

reblogs are greatly appreciated :)

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𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @kenmascutiepie @peganimeboys @airheadpillar @sunasspit

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ghastily · 4 years

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✎ — Gravity (1/??)

➥ Wolfpack x Reader | 4101 | Ao3

Life is hard, sometimes it rewards you with three boyfriends for your efforts.

notes: I don't care if that's not how the garbage launcher works, I'm shooting trash out a cannon.

CoCo Town wasn’t exactly what you would call high class. It actually fell somewhere in the middle, catering more toward the people who did the menial jobs on the upper levels. It’s a place for good, hard-working people who didn’t make that many credits but had just enough to get out of living in the lower levels.

Your life wasn’t glamorous but you couldn’t complain. You had a decent job washing dishes at Dex’s Diner, a roof over your head, and food in your belly. And sometimes you didn’t even notice the smell of garbage piling up around the district.

“…tragically 50 people have lost their lives due to a malfunctioning garbage launcher,” The woman on the holonews announced as you watched, chewing on a piece of slightly burnt toast. There has to be a better way than launching trash out of the district. You don’t even know where they are shooting it.

Hopefully at the senate building.

You clean up the remains of breakfast and turn off the news, making sure to switch the buckets from a leak under the sink before heading back to your room to prepare for another day at the grindstone. Maybe this weekend you’ll look up a video on the holonet so you could fix the damn leak yourself. The landlord definitely wasn’t going to. It would be cheaper too. Probably. You hope it will be anyway.

One last check to make sure you’re presentable, you grab your bag and head out the door. The bright morning light reflecting off all the buildings causes you to flinch, it takes you a hot minute to get your eyes to adjust. You lock the door, giving it a quick jiggle double checking that it was indeed locked this time before you begin the trek to work.

That one time you didn’t check and came home to find your door unlocked was one of the most nerve wrecking nights of your life. You had combed the apartment, pot in hand, checking every corner for anyone who would’ve come in while you were at work. Sleep was hard that night since you were constantly waking up at every little sound.

Just a new thing on the long list of desperately needed repairs.

Despite it all, your job was actually something you looked forward to every day. You had hit it off wonderfully with the human waitress, Harmony, and quickly became close friends. Dex was sweet on you too and often let the two of you take home any left over food that didn't sell that day. It definitely helped with your grocery bills and kept your fridge full. And your waist line a little thick.

It was after the lunch rush that Harmony leans through the serving hatch, arms folded on the little counter.

“Hey, let’s hang out this weekend. We’ll go to 79’s? Watch some nuna-ball?”

You look over at her, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of your lips, “Really? Nuna-ball? You watch that?!”

Harmony grins, twirling a piece of her blonde hair around a long finger. “Nah, but I knew you’d say no if I said it was to check out the clones.”

And the truth comes out! You’d be lying if you weren’t curious about the clones as well. You’d seen the usual ones with red markings patrolling around before, but never without helmets.

“Harmony I had no idea you were into clones!” You tease, setting aside the plate you had been drying.

“I’m not! I think.” She squeaks, “Come on, don’t you want to see what they look like under all that gear? People watching and getting drunk! It’ll be fun.”

“Harmony!” You gasp in mock scandalized horror, a hand over your chest.

“Not like that!” The young woman slaps her hands against the counter. The good humor has you both smiling. It didn't sound so bad and you didn’t have anything else planned for the weekend. You sigh loudly, guess the do-it-yourself leak fix holovids could wait another week, “All right. Nuna-ball and drinks it is.”

The waitress let’s out a delighted ‘yes!’ and pumps her fist in the air.

Dex waddles into the room, carrying a box of ingredients from storage, “Just be careful heading home afterwards you two.”

You always were but for Dex to mention it made you and Harmony look at each in concern.

“One of usual customers mentioned there was another break out at the penitentiary,” He sighs. “Sorry for bringing the mood down but it hasn’t hit the news yet and from what I could get the prisoner is dangerous.”

It was nice having a boss who looked out for your well-being, he couldn’t give much but he gave you both, and the diner, his all. Sometimes you think of where you’d be today if you hadn't landed this job — if Dex hadn’t hauled you out of the gutter. You mentally shake away the dark thoughts. Not today.

Harmony shakes her head and smiles at Dex.

“It’s fine, boss. Thanks for letting us know!”

You nod in agreement, turning back to the sink and fishing up another plate to scrub. “Yeah! But let’s get to it! This diner won’t run itself!”

“Ain’t that my line?!” Dex chuckles, saddling up to his station where he begins to prepare ingredients for the dinner rush. You watch him for a moment, glancing over at the serving window when Harmony ducks back into the dining room to greet a customer with a cheery ‘welcome!’.

Dex flicks a Bith bean at you with a wide grin, “Get back to work!”

Yeah, life wasn’t that bad.

The weekend came sooner than you expected and you find yourself shivering and alone outside of 79’s waiting for Harmony to show up. Checking your comlink for the millionth time you sigh, finally giving up and call her. After a few moments, the young woman finally answers and .. She doesn’t sound too hot.

“Hey.. I’m sorry, I was asleep all day..” Harmony croaks causing you to flinch in sympathy. Poor thing, if she sounded that bad you couldn't hold it against her for not calling to cancel on you sooner.

“You sound like shit, maybe I should come over..” You tug your jacket tighter around your body.

“Nooo,” She whines softly, “You’ll get sick too. Party on in my honor.”

You hold the comlink away from your face when she breaks into a coughing fit, as if she would spread whatever she had to you through the device. Sighing, you bring it back and look back at the bar, “All right. I’ll try my best for you, just get some sleep and feel better soon, ok?”

Harmony makes a soft noise of confirmation and the two of you end the call. You'll have to see if you can get a droid to bring her some soup and medicine later. You stuff the comlink back into your pocket and head into the bar.

The music is deep and thumping, it feels like your whole body is vibrating with the beat. It’s different and you’re a little nervous without Harmony here. She was way more confident than you were in new places — that’s why she worked the front and you were in the back washing dishes. Looking around you spot an open booth, taking a deep breath you make a beeline for It dodging around dancing bar goers.

You slide into one of the circular booths along the wall, unsure of what to do next. There's no menu on the table, and a droid hasn't zoomed over to greet you yet. The crowd around the bar means you'd probably have to go over and order there. You rub your palms nervously against your thighs. You’ll go over later when it thins out a bit. Who needs drinks when you're people watching. Not you. Nope.

Another deep breath and your gaze wanders over to the people gathered on the second floor of the bar. There really are a lot of clones here. Huh.

“Hey, someone took our booth! I told you to stay there so we wouldn’t lose it!”

Your eyes go wide and a small prick of panic shoots through you and look over at the sound of the voice. Stars, you really hope they weren’t looking for a confrontation. The two clones standing at the edge of the table grin at you, brandishing drinks in both hands.

“Sorry, I can get up.” You start scooting out but one of them stops you.

“Woah, hey! Don’t get up,” The clone has two massive scars on his face, and his hair shaved into two red stripes. He places the drinks he was holding down on the table in front of you, “Looks like you could use this. I’m Boost by the way,” He jerks his head to the side, “That’s Sinker.”

There’s an awkward silence then. They’re waiting perhaps for you to introduce yourself.

You don’t.

You’re too busy staring at them as your brain tries to process how human interaction goes again.

“Uh,” Sinker nudges Boost with his shoulder and a silent conversation seems to pass between the two men, “Mind if we join you? There’s no other open table. It's fine if not, Boost hasn’t had his bath yet so I won’t blame you.”

“Hey!” Boost pouts, “I took one as soon as we landed. We all did!”

You blink back into reality, offering an apologetic smile before shuffling further into the booth, giving them some room to sit down.. “Sorry. I don’t mind, uh, go right ahead.”

The look of pure joy on their faces makes you blush and a tiny smile tugs at the corner of your lips. Sure, they shared the same face but seeing just how happy they were — they were cute. The pair slide into the circular booth — on either side of you.

Okay, that was not what you had expected.

They're all charming smiles as they get comfortable, and you smile tightly back.

“So, we didn’t catch your name?” Sinker edges a shot glass closer toward you.

You squint at the glass suspiciously, trying to figure out what drink it is exactly. It’s purple and kind of sparkly. It honestly looks like a tiny liquefied galaxy. Dex doesn’t have this on the menu.

Boost chimes in, breaking you out of your scrutiny of the mysterious purple beverage, “I bet it’s something like Pierce, cause you’ve pierced my heart!”

He dramatically grasps at his chest with both hands, slumping over a bit so he’s closer to your side.

What.

Sinker rolls his eyes hard, “More like Bolt cause they’re bolting away after hearing that line.”

“That’s not—” You try to answer but your voice is drowned out by the pounding music and the bickering of the two clones. It’s all a little overwhelming if you're honest with yourself, your entire face feels like it’s on fire but you try your best to keep yourself together and calm. It’s not often you’re the center of attention, especially not from strangers. Harmony was always good at keeping the heat off you. That’s why you washed dishes and she dealt with customers.

You hope she’s doing okay.

Boost snaps his fingers and the sound brings you out of your thoughts. Right. People are talking to you. The red head looks smug, and all too pleased with himself as he reclines into the booth, stretching an arm over the back, “Okay, so it’s something cute .. like Wallflower! I bet it’s Wallflower.”

That’s not even a name!

Sinker shakes his head as he leans forward, folding his arms on the table. You glance over at him, and the butterflies in your stomach start a wild riot when he smiles at you. It's just your nerves, at least that’s what you tell yourself as you duck your head to avoid his gaze.

It has absolutely nothing with just how handsome he is.

“Mousy like the mouse droids.” Sinker’s voice is soft — soothing, “Hey, you look ready to go find somewhere to hide you doing okay?” Your eyes widen a fraction, looking over at Sinker. Had you been so easy to read? He smiles and bobs his head in a way that says he gets it. If you're that uncomfortable, he’s giving you an out.

“Y-yeah. I’m fine. I was suppose to meet a friend here, uh, for drinks. Which is what you do at bars, go drinking. But she couldn’t make it, so I’m trying to make the most of it.” Your voice trails off at the end, reaching for the shot glass in front of you and downing it in one go. It’s stronger than you expected and the alcohol makes your whole body shudder. There's a weird sparky sensation in your mouth too, what even is this drink.

This is probably not your best decision tonight.

Boost laughs at whatever expression you’re making, and takes the empty glass before sliding another one over. This one is red instead of purple. “Then let’s party in honor of your friend, Mousy!”

Kjshdkajhd!!

You down the next glass resigning yourself to the fate that your name is now Mousy and this was your life.

The next day you wake up to a massive headache, it feels a lot like someone’s banging around in your head with a hammer, and what is easily the worst hangover of your life. The last time you got that drunk was when you were a teenager and a friend got their hands on some cheap booze. Sighing, you stick a hand out from under the covers and blindly feel around for the button to shut off the alarm figuring that your clock going off was the source of your pain.

Nothing happens.

The banging continues.

You groan. There’s medicine in the kitchen, but that means you’ll have to get up and that really doesn't sound like a good idea. So you stay curled up under the sheets until you can’t take it anymore. It’s a struggle but somehow you manage to disentangle yourself from the sheets, and roll out of bed. You give the world a moment to stop spinning before getting to your feet and heading down the hallway, leaning heavily on the wall for support.

The sound of snoring and something moving in your little kitchenette makes you stop in your tracks, and suddenly that hangover is gone. You start to panic because, as far as you were aware, you lived alone. You go from disoriented sloth to one with the Force in two seconds flat.

Half a second if you weren't hungover.

A million scenarios run through your head on how horribly this will end for you as you peek around the corner into the main room, only to spot the familiar white armor of a clone trooper bumbling around in the kitchen.

The snoring is louder now, a cursory glance over the rest of the open room, and you pinpoint the noise as coming from another clone with familiar red hair that’s passed out on your couch. There was no way you were forgetting that haircut.

Oh.

Stinker and Booster.

It takes a hot minute for your brain to recall the events of last night — what it could remember anyway. You vaguely recall that they had been concerned about how drunk you were, and that they insisted on escorting you home. You don’t remember much else after that, or ever getting home and into bed. You’re still in your clothes from last night so at least drinking was all you did and not something scandalous with two troopers.

That’d just be stupid, that would never happen. Pffft.

It would have been kind of hot though. Harmony would’ve been proud of you.

“H-Hey,” You keep your voice low, and inch slowly into the room and in the direction of the kitchenette. The hangover starts to make itself known again now that you’ve determined your life wasn’t in any immediate danger. Sinker looks up, twirling a hydrospanner around in his hand.

“Oh, hey. Sorry, did I wake you?” He smiles, bashfully gesturing to the leak that's been haunting your dreams for weeks now, “The dripping was driving me nuts. Hope that's okay..?”

It’s more than okay. It’s on your knee and ready to propose okay.

“Yeah, no, help yourself,” You shuffle into the kitchen, fishing from painkillers out of a drawer and mumbling, “There’s plenty more things around here you can fix if you're offering.”

Sinker leans back against the counter, watching you get a glass of water to wash the pills down. “Just point me at ‘em. And as payment—”

You nearly choke on the water, right, people get paid for their work usually. Credits were something you didn’t have a lot of but maybe Sinker would be cheaper than hiring an actual mechanic to come fix everything. Or fix any further damage you’d cause from trying to fix it yourself.

He chuckles, and pats you on the back.

“Easy there. Instead of credits, how about dinner?”

You stare at him in confusion, wondering if you really heard him right. Dinner? That was all he wanted for fixing things in your crappy apartment? Apparently, you take too long to answer as Sinker starts to look uneasy from your silence, “Uh, forget I said anything—”

“No!” You practically shout, grabbing hold of his arm with both hands as if Sinker was going to disappear on the spot if he finished what he was saying. The sudden outburst catches the white-haired trooper by surprise and he freezes, “No, I mean, yeah? That sounds fine! I can make dinner if you’re willing to um.. Eat.. My cooking.”

Smooth.

Sinker nods with a soft ‘mhm’, and looks down at where you were holding onto his arm then back at you. The faint red that begins to color his cheeks make your heart beat a little faster. Neither of you move and instead just stare at each other. You didn’t want to get too hopeful but maybe there was something here. Something mutual.

“S’mn’ne say food..?”

The two of you jump apart and look toward the living area where Boost is stretching on the couch. The other trooper rubs both hands over his head, looking around the room with bleary eyes. You take a deep breath, sheesh, you feel like a little kid getting caught red-handed doing something you weren't suppose to.

“Yeah, you’re making it di’kut!” Sinker smirks at Boost’s pouting, playfully bumping you with his shoulder. That weirdly intense energy that was building between you two dissipates. When you look at him, he winks and heat blossoms across your cheeks.

Wait until Harmony hears about this.

Sinker and Boost settle comfortably into your life after that night, spending any free time they had at your place just simply being domestic. Affection flowed freely, mostly aimed at you, Sinker was subtle, shy touches and chaste kisses, while Boost was more expressive. He’d grab you up in tight hugs, and always touching you in some way. It was nice and you found you didn't mind it in the least.

All of your appliances and pipes were like brand new now thanks to Sinker’s handiwork, and Boost even found whatever was stinking up the refresher. All they asked for in return was a home cooked meal, which you were all too happy provide.

You weren't that great at cooking but you picked up a few tricks from watching Dex at work, thankfully the guys didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, they loved it. It really made you wonder what kind of food they were eating while away. You were seriously considering packing them lunches.

Harmony thought it was adorable.

“I am so disappointed that I was sick that night!” She whines, leaning through the service window while you finish up the last of the dishes from the morning rush. “Really, you didn’t miss much. We got drunk and went to sleep, the end.” You laugh.

“Nuh uh, you went to sleep and woke up with two boyfriends.”

Things did move fast but no one really discussed what exactly was happening between the three of you. You just knew that you liked them, they liked you, and that was good enough. “I-I don’t think it’s that serious..”

“What's not serious?”

The sudden voice cutting into the conversation startles the two of you. Harmony squeaks, and you nearly drop the dish you had just cleaned. Standing in the doorway that leads to the back alley is Boost, grasping a take out box in one hand and his helmet in the other, and looking adorably curious.

You carefully set the plate down on the pile of other clean dishes, reaching back to untie your apron, “Hey Boost. I’ll be right with you.”

“I’ll let Dex know you’re on lunch break.” Harmony looks at you with a knowing smirk. The petulant child in you rises up and you stick your tongue out at her as you go over to Boost, ushering him back outside and shutting the door behind you.

Away from prying eyes, you lean in and press a kiss to the corner of his lips. It’s become a familiar show of affection, one that you've repeated several times now with both him and Sinker. Each and every time their face lights up in joy and their cheeks turn a deep red.

“Brought you some lunch,” Boost offers you the box of food, which you take gratefully before heading over, and taking a seat on the bench that you and Harmony usually sat on during lunch breaks. Stinky trash weather permitting. You make yourself comfortable against his side, opening the box and settling it across your lap.

“Thanks! Oohh.. Looks yummy,” You wiggle in excitement, reaching in for a protato wedge. Just as you bring it to your mouth Boost leans in, eating it right from your hand.

You gasp, “You jerk! That was mine.”

He chuckles around a mouthful of your precious lunch. The nerve!

“Got to pay your taxes, Mousy.” Boost waggles his brows at you, and oh if he wasn’t so cute you’d smack him. But fine, two can play that game. You look at him through your lashes, putting on your best innocent act, “If you wanted me to feed you, Boost.. All you had to do was ask.”

He sputters and coughs, face turning as red as his hair.

You take out another protato wedge and wave it in front of his mouth, “Say ‘ahh’.”

Boost hesitates, flustered and unsure at first. You can practically see the gears in his head turning as he debates whether he should give in or not. Much to your delight, he opens his mouth and leans a little closer. But the food takes a detour and you stick it in your mouth instead with a smug grin, “Mm! So good!”

The trooper looks positively offended, “I knew it! Augh!”

You laugh, and Boost crosses his arms over his chest pouting. It did make you feel a little bad though, with a little coaxing you get him to open his mouth again, and this time let him eat the protato wedge. You eat the rest of the meal, pausing occasionally to feed Boost. The conversation is light, revolving around how your respective days have been thus far and all too soon, you're done eating and lunch break is over.

“Oh yeah, Sinker’s going to be late for dinner.”

You nod in understanding, that’s all he needs to say. They’re soldiers, and duty comes first and foremost. “All right, I’ll keep a plate warm for him then.”

Boost smiles, and you notice that some of the worry on his face disappears. Something was bothering him, you’d notice it earlier but if he wasn't ready or able to talk about it — you wouldn't push. So you settle for the next best thing; reaching up to cup his jaw in your palms and press your lips to his.

The kiss is soft and slow, you try to convey your feelings to him through it. To reassure him. Boost just melts into it, dropping his helmet on the ground with a clatter so he can wrap both arms around your waist, pulling your body as close to his as humanly possible. The hard edges of his gear dig uncomfortably into you but you'll live cause this felt good.

“I’ll see you at home,” You voice is low and breathy when you break apart for air. Boost affectionately bumps his forehead against yours, lips curling up in a smile. “Yeah. See you then.”

#star wars: the clone wars #reader insert #wolfpack x reader #commander wolffe x reader #boost x reader #sinker x reader

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larryfanficwriter98 · 3 years

Text

Chapter Nine

*Fake It Until You Make It Real*

"Hey quick question." Louis pressed his phone between his shoulder blades and ear as he helped Freddie into a coat on the chilly Tuesday morning.

"What is it?" Louis asked.

"Can I have Freddie today?" Louis momentarily froze in his everyday routine of pulling Freddie's zipper up when he heard the question.

"What?"

"Can I have Freddie today? I thought I'd take him on a Harry and Freddie date."

"I don't think a Harry and Freddie date classifies as a good reason to skip Nursery." Louis said though he was smiling when Freddie looked up at him excitedly.

"Sure, it does. Besides I'm already outside with a brand new spiderman booster in my backseat."

"I have a booster for him I could have moved."

"We'll need an extra booster anyway and i got a backless booster for your car incase Maddie needs it. She's sort of in the middle but I always make her sit in the backless still whenever I have her in my car. Nice to have extras when we have more than one vehicle. So, can I? I'm already parked outside." Louis laughed as he opened the apartment door and stepped out. He locked it before grabbing Freddie's hand and heading to the elevator.

"I'll have to ask Freddie if he wants to go with you. Who knows maybe he thinks you're too lame."

"Please Papa please!" Freddie begged making him and Harry laugh.

"I'm getting into the elevator see you in a moment." Louis ended the phone call as he stepped on the elevator. Once they reached the main floor they headed outside, and Freddie ran to the familiar Murano where Harry was leaning against it.

"There's my favorite little man!" Harry cheered picking Freddie up and spinning them around making Freddie laugh, "so do you want to spend the day with me Freddie?"

"Yes yes yes! Pease Papa." Freddie begged widening his eyes and pouring his bottom lip.

"Yeah alright." Louis said smiling when Freddie and Harry cheered

"Would you like ride to work?" Harry asked setting Freddie down.

"I would love a ride to work. Maybe even a lunch visit if I can get an hour slot during your busy date." Louis said grinning as Harry turned to Freddie with a raised eyebrow.

"What do you think? Think we can slot Papa into our lunch?"

"I think so. We'll get back to him." Louis laughed.

"You heard the boss. I guess we'll be in touch for lunch." Louis took the offered hand as Harry opened the passenger door for him.

"I shall wait eagerly." Louis said looking back as Freddie sat in his new booster. Harry helped adjust the straps correctly before he got in the driver’s seat and started the car. Harry's hand took his intertwining their fingers together before he pulled his hand to his lips and kissed it smiling over at him.

"So, when is my day date?" Louis asked.

"What? Looking at wedding venues or napping on my couch doesn't count as dates?" Louis laughed shaking his head, "I've got dates planned don't you worry about that. I figured it'd be easier to work with when everything settles down some. These next three months are going to be really busy as you well know."

"Waiting for us to get married so I can't run out on the date I see. Smart man." Harry chuckled.

"You know me so well." Louis grinned as he thought about how they had spent Sunday together laying on the couch cushions that were on the floor as a fake mattress. Harry had been exhausted but they had breakfast together and had spent the morning laughing as they talked about whatever came up. They had taken a few hours nap so Harry could get back on a night sleeping routine then they had watched a movie before Louis had to go home to prepare for Freddie's return. Harry had driven him home but didn't come on as he also had to get home and do some paperwork before his day back at work Monday morning. The few minute car ride to the school was filled with Freddie asking Harry all types of questions that Harry avoided answering.

****

Harry held Freddie's hand as they walked through Ikea, Freddie excitedly pointing stuff out for his bedroom. Harry figured the best way to get Freddie excited for a huge change was to let him decorate his bedroom as promised. This was his short week, only working three days this week and short eight hour shifts which made it a perfect time to get everything set up. He had the fee days leading and after Halloween scheduled off as well as the week of his court date as well as the week of Christmas then he had the three weeks in January off. The week before, week of, and week after for the wedding and family vacation which he still had to talk with Maddie's school about. Freddie was excited about his new bedroom and had picked out everything that was in the cart so far.

"What's next?" Freddie asked after picking out a few sheet sets.

"I think we're done at Ikea." Harry said, "next stop is the mattress shop to find you a new mattress."

"Then lunch?"

"Yes, then we will pick up lunch for us and Papa and eat with him then we will take everything to my house, and we will have you pick out your room."

Harry will have to remember to thank his parents for helping him with the cost of his house when he talks with them next. He didn't want a huge house when he moved, but his parents insisted he buy for the future. He had been set on a nice penthouse, but his parents had offered to help pay to get a house built and so he had relented. Harry had always been a good saver, always budgeting like his mother taught him even though they had been well off after her marriage. He still remembered eating peanut butter bread slices though and peanut butter toast. He remembered having to rinse his clothes in a bucket of water and dish soap and hang them on the shower rack to dry. He didn't remember as much as his sister, but he remembered enough for it to make a lasting impression on him. His first job he hardly ever spent his paychecks always saving it for emergencies that never came. At least not back then. He was always glad he did save them when he went off to college though. Now as he swiped his card through the reader and heard the ding of acceptance for his purchase of many things that cost far too much, he knew he was now his stepfather to Freddie. A doctor who comes into their lives and swipes his card on large expenses without batting an eye and hopefully make their lives better. Louis wasn't his mother, he obviously had money and had savings despite what his apartment building said about him. He obviously spent every reasonable pound on Freddie and clearly grew up in a household where he learned to budget like Harry did. Even if his time learning wasn't as needed as Louis' was. He hoped he could make their lives easier and better, he hoped this would last, that he and Louis were able to make it all work and by the time January comes they can say their vows and mean at least some of it. Harry looked over at Freddie as he bounced his bottom on the mattresses with the elderly salesman grinning and encouraging him to jump harder. He hoped one day Freddie and Maddie would seem them as a family with maybe a few more kids in the extremely far future.

***

Harry grinned as he covered Louis' eyes and led him up the stairs to Freddie's new room that was filled with boxes and bags and a mattress against the wall.

"Where are we going Harold?" Louis asked.

"My new room Papa." Freddie said excitedly as he opened the door and spread his arms wide. Harry removed his hands and grinned.

"Oh, wow I especially love the sleeping on the wall idea. Very unique." Louis teased making Freddie fold his arms and pout.

"Papa, look it's a jungle theme. There'll be dinosaurs and wild animals and look I got a new mattress and toys for my new room." Freddie said excitedly showing off five things at once. He got distracted by the toys and started playing giving them false privacy.

"He has a bed you know." Louis said quietly as they stepped out of the room.

"Oh, hush it got him excited for the big change coming to his life so unexpectedly. Besides, I figured you can sell the stuff or give them away to an orphanage. They could always use more things after all. I have to take some of Maddie’s clothes and toys she outgrew to the orphanage sometime soon."

"So how much damage did he do you your wallet?"

"Not as much as Maddie did when we redone her room a few years ago." Harry said as he intertwined their fingers together and led him to the door with MADDISON painted on it diagonally. He opened the door revealing the bedroom making Louis' eyes widen.

"Harold."

"I know. Alright trust me I know." Harry said chuckling, "to be fair I was overcompensating for not being around as much. I over did it I know that and trust me it won't happen again, but this is they're safe space. If they need time away, they go to their rooms and I want them to like being there and I want them to feel safe and secure in their private space. If that means spending a few hundred then so be it." Louis nodded as he closed the bedroom and turned to face Harry.

"And to think I found you on craigslist." Harry laughed as he wrapped an arm around his waist and led him downstairs with him.

"I think we would have found each other eventually. You do work at my daughters’ school after all. Eventually we'd have seen each other."

"Seen sure."

"Oh, trust me if I had seen you in your teacher outfit, I'd have looked for you a second time and gotten your number."

"What makes you so sure you'd have gotten my number?"

"I would have told you a brilliant dad joke and you wouldn't have been able to resist." Louis laughed shaking his head as he turned and pulled Harry in for a quick kiss. Harry grinned before leaning in for another kiss that had more pressure to it as his hands slid up and cupped his face pulling Louis in closer. Louis opened his mouth to the eager tongue and groaned as his back suddenly pressed against the wall.

"We have a toddler right across the hall." Louis spoke softly and only pulled away for enough to talk.

"I'm sure it's bedtime somewhere on this planet." Louis laughed shaking his head, "actually in Australia it is way past bedtime. It's like three in the morning over there."

"Yeah? Well in California it's nine in the morning."

"Damn." Harry said kissed his forehead, "so dinner then?"

"Yeah, I'd say that would be a good idea." Louis said putting his hands on Harry's shoulders and pushing him gently the rest of the way down the stairs, “Time goes by faster if you keep yourself busy."

"Liar. I’m busy at work all the time and time drags on for hours.”

“That’s because you’re thinking about it.”

“God you’re such a teacher. I hated teachers like you mister ‘stop looking at the clock and the time will go by faster’.” Harry mocked before groaning, “If you say one thing about dismissal, I’ll divorce you the second we sign our marriage papers.”

“Uh huh. Sure, you will.”

***

"Harry?” Harry looked over at the open doorway leading into his home office and saw Freddie standing there in his pajamas.

“Yes, my love?” Harry asked.

“Can you read me a story tonight?”

“Can I read you a story? Of course, I can read you a story come on.” Harry grinned as he picked Freddie up and headed upstairs. Freddie led the way to his new room, not set up yet for overnights, and he grabbed a book from his bag then made a beeline dash towards Harry’s room giggling wildly telling Harry he had preplanned it. Harry laughed as he followed Freddie into his bedroom to seem him already snuggled into the middle of the bed under the covers looking far too innocent. “Trickster.” Harry said as he grabbed a spare blanket and laid on the bed beside Freddie staying above the covers. He took the book and let Freddie snuggle into his side as he flipped to the first page after turning everything, but the nightstand lamps off.

“How does a Dinosaur say goodnight when Papa comes in to turn off the light? Does a Dinosaur slam his tail and pout? Does he throw his teddy bear about? Does he stomp his feet on the floor and shout, ‘I want to hear one book more!’? Does a Dinosaur roar?” Harry read aloud making sure to put extra touches in his words to make it fun and make Freddie laugh, “How does a Dinosaur say goodnight when Mama comes in to turn off the light? Does he swing his neck from side to side? Does he up and demand a piggyback ride? Does he mope, does he moan, does he sulk, does he sigh? Does he fall on top of his covers and cry? No, Dinosaurs don’t. They don’t even try. They give a big kiss. They turn out the light. They tuck in their tails, and they whisper, ‘Goodnight.’.” Harry grinned at Louis as he came in and laid behind Freddie kissing his temple as the little boy drifted in and out of sleep, “They give a big hug, then give one kiss more. Goodnight, Goodnight, Little Dinosaur.”

“Goodnight.” Freddie mumbled sleepily as he snuggled into Harry again before falling asleep.

“Sorry I had a mess to clean up in that bathroom. Little man’s bladder emptied itself before we made it on the potty.” Louis whispered.

“It’s fine I didn’t mind. I miss reading bedtime stories. Maddie doesn’t much like them anymore, occasionally she’ll want to be read to, but not often. Besides a sleepover in my bed is always welcomed. I’ve missed toddler cuddles. I’m sure when he knees me in the morning, I’ll regret those words, but for now his knee is a safe twelve inches away.” Louis laughed covering his mouth with his hand to stay silent.

“I can always move us to the guest room.” Harry settled into bed and wrapped an around Freddie and Louis and pretended to fall asleep. Louis chuckled as he pinched his side before he too settled in the large bed cuddling Freddie. Harry turned on the tv for a bit of background noise and turned off the nightstand lamp on his side and within minutes he and Louis was asleep as well.

#Larry Stylinson #larry shippers #larries #larry fanfiction #larry stylinson fanfiction #fake marriage #nonfamous au #larry fake marraige au #doctor harry styles #teacher louis #parents au

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danadumaurier · 4 years

Text

World Turned Upside Down - P.1?

The first time she’d seen him, Jean hadn’t bothered. She’d been awoken by a loud noise outside and had peaked through the blinds to see a man tending the garden. He was helping, not hurting anything, and she had a massive hangover, so she’d simply sprawled across the bed and passed out again.

She’d been at her mother’s house for a week and a half. She’d attended the funeral, gone through her mother’s closet, and met up with her one friend in town, Matthew Lawson, for drinks. Other than that she’d kept mostly to herself. There was an older woman, a Miss Toohey, who came in twice a week to cook, but she was quiet, efficient, and hadn’t said more than a dozen words to her boss’s prodigal daughter. Her perpetual frown and clucking tongue left Jean with little doubt of her opinion of her new employer. Jean was quite sure that arrangement wouldn’t last for very long.

———

Lucien Blake stared at his reflection in the small mirror above the sink in his bathroom. He’d just finished his lunch and was trying to make a decision about his afternoon plans. Mrs. Randall had paid him through the end of next month, but he had heard nothing from the daughter who, according to the rumor mill, was in town to settle her affairs. He’d gone over to the house a week ago per his regular schedule and seen no indication that anyone was there, so he’d gone about his work as prescribed. There was nothing for it. He’d been paid to do a job, and until he was told otherwise, he’d continue to do it. Within five minutes he was out the door, had checked the tools in his truck, and was on his way to the Randall House.

When he pulled up on the gravel drive it once again appeared as if no one was home, but as he shut down the engine, he could hear music wafting from the back yard. It was too loud to be coming from inside, and he’d planned to weed the back bed anyway, so he’d grabbed his gloves, bucket,and a few tools and headed around the side of the house. The woman had good taste in music, and he wondered if that meant she’d be kind and consider keeping him on. He rounded the back corner of the house, eyes on his feet, thinking about his accounts and what he’d need to do if the daughter was not in need of a gardener/handyman.

“Well hello!?” He’d been so distracted by his own thoughts he hadn’t looked up until she called his name. He glanced towards the voice and received the most pleasant shock of his life. A woman, a very attractive woman, wearing a massive sun hat and glasses, but little else, was sunning on Mrs. Randall’s lounge chair. He immediately dropped his bucket and swung around so his back was to the lady.

“There’s no need to be shy, but I would like to know why you are trespassing in my mother’s garden.” He heard the click of the record player as she turned the music off.

Keeping his back turned, Lucien decided he could only be honest, even if this was the most awkward position he’d ever found himself in with a potential employer. “Mrs. Randall paid me to keep up the garden and do odd jobs about the house. Her account is current through February, so I’m here to do my job ma’am.”

Jean stared at the man’s broad back. One less task she’d have to arrange to get the house ready for sale. “Good. I won’t keep you from it. What is your name?”

“Lucien Blake, ma’am.” He still had his back turned to her and was fiddling with his hoe nervously, so she decided to take pitty on him.

“Well Mr. Blake, there is no reason to be ashamed of the human form, but if it is going to keep you from your work, I’ll put my robe on.”

Lucien waited a few beats and turned to find the woman standing next to the lounger in a blue silk robe, her sunglasses dangling from red tipped fingernails. Her cheeks were a bit pink despite the hat, and her eyes, well he’d better not spend too much time thinking about how pretty she was if he intended to continue working there.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” She turned and headed for the sunroom.

“Thank you, ma’am.” He watched her retreat. She was the most elegant woman he’d had the pleasure of meeting. Well perhaps with the exception of her mother, who was, of course, too old and proper to have ever caught his attention. Her daughter, however, was all gorgeous curves and confidence. It was several minutes before he remembered his task, or that he hadn’t asked her about the fate of his job.

———

#should i continue #tdbm #genderswap sort of #the doctor blake mysteries #my fic

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tanglebond-tales · 3 years

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Wake Up, Lupin (pt. 1)

Most days, it doesn't matter what time Lupin casts the spell.

But today is Thursday, and therefore, it matters.

Ding a ling a ling, says the first alarm. Ugh. That means it's 6 o'clock. Two hours til work, one hour til portal time.

Lupin goes back to sleep.

Bing bong, says the second alarm. Ugh. Six thirty.

Wake up, Lupin. Now. Says the third alarm. Okay, the first two didn't actually SAY what they said, it was onomatopaiea. Sounds that they made translated into words. But this one actually talks.

"Uh. Portal day."

The alarm clock does not respond. It only knows how to say that one thing, repeatedly, in its tinny little voice.

"Wake up, Lupin. Now."

"Fine! Ugh. Fine. Okay. Get up, Lupin." She rolls out of bed. At least it's warm.

---

"Ugh. Why is it always so warm here."

Lupin draws the final stroke of chalk to complete the circle, and before she can even look up, there is a flash of light.

"Hello, Lupin. It's been a while."

"It's been a week." Her handler's enthusiasm at this time of morning was routinely offensive.

He steps forward out of the teleportation circle, places the supply chest on the sideboard, and makes a show of brushing the dust of the conjuring chalk from his otherwise immaculate coat. "It has! I do hope things are going well with you."

Lupin yawns and stretches. "Not bad. Work is fine. Y'know, hammering steel. Over and over."

"But you are getting plenty of practise with those elementals."

"Well, yeah, it's what I do like literally all day, so yes."

"I am glad. I take it they are co-operative."

Portal successfully cast on time, Lupin has retreated to the kitchen. She is making toast. "They're okay. I mean, some more than others, some of them are rude. Some of them are lazy. But most of them are nice. And some of them are really funny."

"I actually kind of envy you. The air realm boundary here is so thin. You're really getting the best of it. It's a wonderful assignment."

"Rui, I've been here for a year. It's getting pretty boring. And why do you always have to visit so early?"

Ruiprouice Frouce sighed. "I know. It is a long time. But we all do it. And, as you know I have a lot of people to visit. This is how I like to start my Thursdays."

She cracks some eggs into the pan and smiles at him over her shoulder. "You're sweet.” From nowhere, a wooden stirrer coalesces in her hand and she prods at the sizzling eggs. “Okay, look, I know. Rite of passage as a conjurer, blah blah. I get that, and I'm grateful for the chance. But, Pelor, am I ever ready to move on."

"Yes, Lupin." Closest thing Lupin ever had to an uncle, but he never used her nicknames. "Just one more week."

Lupin sighed. "Yes. Just one more week. Have you had breakfast?"

---

Felton Blacksand sighed, stroking his long beard and looking at the chrono dial. "Where, oh where, is Lupin."

"I'm here!" hollered Lupin, her attempt at sneaking into the office foiled by her big mouth and scrabbling feet. "I'm sorry."

"It's Thursday, already?"

"Sure is! So, what needs doing?" she inquires as she catches her breath, coils up her two long braids, and stuffs them into her beret.

Felton sighed. Not that he'd been paying close attention, but he knew the year was almost up. When he'd gotten the letter from the conjurers’ guild - sorry, the Guild of Conjurers and Summoners - he hadn't expected much, a bookish nerd maybe? Certainly not someone so talented in the trade as well as the craft. The thought of Lupin moving on was heavy on his mind.

"Crew two is on the Hammer, so they'll probably need you to help get them started. Third crew is in the mines, so Pelor willing they won't need much attention, but crew four is on the mechanisms so they'll definitely need your support. And crew five is,” he consults his clipboard, “smelting, so they may need some fires put out."

"Put out? Come on." She shimmies indignantly into her company-issue grease-spattered overalls. Frowning as she spots a couple of small tears, she jabs at them with a finger and they mend instantly.

"Loops. We're training your replacements. Give them some space to make mistakes."

Lupin was losing track of the number of sighs today. Plus one. "Can I at least stoke some fire tomorrow?"

"Sure, as long as they learn a lot today."

Lupin rolled her eyes. "Thanks, I guess."

"Crew one is on bucket detail, so keep an ear on them. They're not exactly fast."

"True, that. Anything else? Roll on end of shift, right?"

"Roll on. Don't forget to eat lunch."

"Thanks, boss." Lupin left.

---

It hadn't been an eventful shift. The air elementals had been compliant, mostly, but she'd had to talk down to a fairly large firey, and he almost didn't accept her bluster. She knew the protocol for that situation - contain with a magic circle, call for the water squad - but she was proud of the fact that she hadn't had to do that in a bit over six months. She could usually get them to listen to reason, which helped a lot since her physical stature would hardly be described as intimidating. Not that she didn’t have a few other tricks up her sleeve if it really came down to it.

Anyway. The shift was over, and Lupin was heading home. The viewing platform was on the way - about the closest thing this charming hamlet had to a tourist attraction - and hey, the Hammer in action was always a sight to see after walking up that big darn hill on her short gnome legs, so Lupin often stopped there.

Today was different, though. It was Wednesday; nearly a week had passed since Rui's last visit, and tomorrow was the big day. It was tradition in the guild to time the final day of casting with a visit, do a bit of a ceremony and whatnot, and that was tomorrow.

But more immediately, today there were some actual tourists.

A bunch of weirdoes, actually, thought Lupin as she approached the platform. In a good way, an interesting way, and certainly something she hadn't seen in a while. An elf lady with a fancy-looking bow strapped to her back. A tall human man with rippling muscles and a giant sword. A robed monk, a little girl, a birdman. A lizardy guy. Lizardy? No, more dragon-y. And a peculiar boy, not so much taller than Lupin, humanish but for the pointy, swept-back horns atop his head. Lupin somehow has an impulse to just run forward and hug him.

She suppressed it, barely, and instead sidled up to the group just as the dragony man was leaving. Adventurers? What were they doing here? "Hi! I'm Lupin!" She thrust her hand out in the vague direction of the boy with the horns.

---

It seemed like the boy with the horns had a lot on his mind, but that was okay, because Lupin loved talking about her work, and had been doing so incessantly. "And then, right? We put the molten slug on the anvil. And then, the hammer smashes it flat! So flat. Keeping that hammer working is basically my day job. You know, just the other day..."

Fancy bow lady interrupts her. "So, you work here, then?"

Lupin stops. Was that sarcasm? She wasn't used to that, around here.

"Yes, I do! So where are you guys from?" Funny how the fatigue of a whole shift in the steelworks could be erased with a little bit of chitchat.

---

It turned out they were new in town, just passing through really, and looking for somewhere to eat, drink and sleep. Lupin knew just the place - and what a coincidence, was going that way. Even if she weren't, she would have said she was. She'd learned some names, including the horn-headed fella, Russell. Walking next to him, she felt like he was in need of some cheering up.

"Hey, do you like animals?"

Russell immediately perks up. "Yes! I love animals."

"Oh, well." Lupin clasps her hands together, and then opens them a crack. A tiny nose peeks out, whiskers twitching as it samples the air, followed by the face and long body of a silky white ermine, which scurries up Lupin's arm and perches on her shoulder, looking intently at Russell.

"Russell, this is Snickers."

Russell is agog. "What.. how.. did you just.. summon that?"

"Her. And yes. Well, no. Well, she's always around, just not always in material form. I think she likes you."

Lupin bumps her shoulder into Russell's and Snickers scuttles across, disappearing up Russell's sleeve and, a moment later, poking her fuzzy face out of the neck of his armour.

Russell's excited grin has turned into barely contained paroxysms of laughter. "That.. tickles!!", he exclaims between gasps of air. "Oh yes indeed," says Lupin, "this is definitely her tickliest form. Sometimes she's a cat, sometimes a rat, we didn't really like her as a snake, but birds are a lot of fun. Though, not as cuddly."

Snickers has wriggled free of Russell's armour and parked herself on his shoulder, busying herself with nuzzling him incessantly. Accordingly, Russell has regained the power of speech. "She can change forms?”, he asks, returning the affection. “Like, whenever?"

"Oh, well it takes a little bit of doing. We have to cast a spell for it, which needs some fancy ingredients, so it's a bit of a special occasion when we do, you know?"

Russell is impressed. "That is so, so cool."

Lupin blushes a little. Finding a familiar is among the most basic of basic conjuration, but it’s nice that he's impressed. And it’s nice to be chatting to someone who doesn’t tower over her. "You think that's cool? You should see what I do for a living." She starts into telling him all about a day in the life of an elemental wrangler as they walk on.

---

"So, this guild has had you living here for a year, casting the same spell every day, over and over, to - set up a portal?"

Sitting around an assortment of tables, the adventurers are exercising their elbow muscles hefting tankards of excellent ale. Blacksand's Brewery is crowded, as always after the end of a shift at the 'works, with dwarves, gnomes, and humans, far too many of whom Lupin knows by name. The elder of the Blacksand brothers, Beren, tends bar, and waitstaff sashay busily amongst the tables.

"Yep, that's right. It'll facilitate travel and trade and blah blah blah. And it'll mean I've concluded this stage of my service to the Guild, so I'll be presented with a shiny new badge and make a bunch of people real proud, but best of all, I won't have to stay in this boring excuse for a town anymore."

"Oh come on, it's not so bad. This place is nice. And the hammer is really cool!"

"Yeah, so cool! So much going on here! And I get to hear the clanging all day every day from up close AND far away!" Lupin is thrilled to be using sarcasm again. She makes a show of counting on her fingers. "You've seen the Hammer, you're eating at Blacksand's, and you've met me. I think that about covers the highlights of the Praak experience."

She pauses to sip her ale. "I will not miss this place. I will miss some of the people, though." She looks around at the interior of the Brewery. "And, well, I might miss this place. But Praak generally? I don't think so. I don't exactly have a plan yet, but I'm sure looking out for an excuse to leave." A smiling waitress deposits several plates of delicious-smelling food on the table, and Lupin nods in acknowledgement, suddenly feeling a twinge of guilt for badmouthing the small town. She picks up the smallest plate, containing a boiled egg and small cubes of various cheeses, and sets it to one side. Snickers goes straight for it and gets to nibbling.

"But you have to finish this portal first, right?"

"Oh, yes, well, that's happening tomorrow."

Russell's eyebrows raise precipitously.

"Tomorrow! And you said there's going to be a ceremony?" Had she said that? She wasn't sure, but the thoughtful look on Russell's face stilled her tongue. "Do you know anyone who could transport someone between planes? That's a conjurer thing, right?"

Lupin hesitates, unsure of what is happening. "Well - that's something I'm studying towards, but yes, I suppose I do know some people. And yes," she anticipates his next question, "it is possible some of them might be here tomorrow."

"Huh," says Russell, his eyebrows returning to their typical stance as he grabs a chicken leg and leans back in his chair. "Gaalin will want to meet you."

"Who's Gaalin?", says Lupin.

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gamernovellist · 4 years

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A Brother’s Regret

Hey everyone, guess who’s reviving their Tumblr just to post this short story. So this is one of my D&D character’s backstory that I shared with my group and they praised it, so I decided to share it. I’m actually pretty proud of it because it’s the first short story I’ve written. Anyways, sorry for stalling.

TW: Suicide and Bullying

Caden put on his left shoe again and tied it. He was already running late for work before he noticed the sole of his shoe tearing away. It only took him a couple minutes to fix, but those were minutes he couldn't afford. He stood up from his bed and patted down his clothes, taking one last look at himself in his bedroom mirror to make sure everything was ok. He started to leave his room, but his sister stopped him at the door. ”Hey Cade, can we talk?” Lyra asked, looking at the floor, her black hair covering her eyes. "I'd love to sis, but I'm really running late, and Mr. Walsh will kill me if I slow him down again." "Oh, alright." Lyra rubbed her wrist, she still hadn't looked up, but Cade could see her frown. "Oh come on, Lyra, don't be like that, smile a bit." Cade poked his twin's side and started tickling her. Lyra started laughing. Her tickle spots hadn't changed since their tickle wars as kids. Cade stopped and stepped around her. "I'll be back in a couple hours, we can talk then ok." "Ok." Lyra said, she was still giggling a bit, but was calming down. "I also made you lunch." Lyra pointed to a bag on the kitchen counter. Cade grabbed it and smiled at her. "Thanks Lyra. You didn't have to though." Lyra shrugged. "Hurry up. Mr. Walsh is already going to rip you a new one." Cade widened his eyes. "Shit, you're right." He kissed the top of his sister's head. "Love you Lyr." "Love you too." She said as Cade left the house

Cade ran from one end of the kitchen to the other, chopping vegetables and doing any other little thing he could to speed up Mr. Walsh's cooking. He was extremely lucky Mr. Walsh offered him this job as a cooking aide. While there were places that would hire a fifteen year old, not many of them would accept 'that half elf'. One of the downsides of living in a small human village. But there was nothing he could do about that. Luckily Mr. Walsh didn't care, his customers on the other hand did. To continue working there all Cade had to do was try to stay unseen as much as possible. If someone saw him from time to time it was fine, Walsh could talk his way out of it. But people could spread rumors if they learned Cade helped prepare most of the food. Cade had just finished up chopping an onion when Mr. Walsh came into the kitchen. "Hey kid, we slowed down a bit, go ahead and take a break." "Thank you Mr. Walsh." Cade said, pushing the chopped onions aside and putting down the knife. Cade walked to the table in the corner where he took his breaks. He let out a deep breath as he sat down. Not a second later his stomach started rumbling. He grabbed his lunch and took the container out of the bag. On top of it was a letter. On it, it read 'To my dearest brother'. Cade smiled at his sister's handwriting. He set aside his lunch and opened the letter and read it.

Dear Caden, First of all I want you to know that I love you. You and mother are what I cherish the most in all the world, at least the moments when mother isn't distant. But even with all the love we share, it is not enough. I'm tired. I'm exhausted. Everyday I live is pain. We don't belong in this town, and I'm starting to believe there is no place for us in this world, no place for me. You got lucky with Mr. Walsh's inn, and the bullies at school have even started ignoring you a little. But for me, their insults have only escalated, and I can't do anything about them. If I talk back to them, they redouble their forces. If I retaliate, I'm in the wrong. But everything they say is true. I am worthless, I'm only a burden. Even father knew I wasn't worth the effort and that's why he left us. Mother sees it every time she looks at me and it drives her to drink. And you, we haven’t spent as much time together, I can only assume it’s because you’re also starting to realize how worthless I am. I tired to make it all better, but there is no solution. But one. I love you brother, and thank you for all the memories we've shared. But this life is only torment, and it won't get any better. My last memory is going to be of the only happy place I had in this world, and let my last thoughts be of all the memories we had there. Goodbye Caden. Love, Lyra

Cade stared at the end of the letter. He only broke out of the trance when a tear fell on the paper. He noticed his hands trembling. Cade thought this had to be a joke. A very sick, distasteful joke. It was payback for Cade not talking to her before work. Cade shot up out of his chair. Lyra wanted to talk today. Maybe this is what she wanted to talk about. Maybe he could've, helped her. Cade felt more tears fall down his face and guilt build up inside him. "Caden what's wrong?" Mr. Walsh asked. Caden hadn't noticed him approach. "I'm sorry Mr. Walsh, I have to go." As soon as the last word left his mouth Cade took off out of the inn, not waiting for his boss's reply. He ran through the streets, hoping he wasn't too late. There was no way any of this was serious. No way Lyra would actually, would actually… His mind brought back the image of her face that morning, how she couldn't even look him in the eyes. Cade ran faster, he had to get to her before she went though with it. Cade was too in his mind that he didn't see the group of people in front of him until he'd ran into them and lost his balance. "Watch where you're going knife ears." Cade heard an familiar guy's voice say. "You'd think with ears that big he'd have echolocation." There was laughter all around him, and he knew he ran into the last group of people he wanted to run into. "Fuck off Luther." Cade said, getting off the ground and facing the group of bullies. Cade tried to get through, but Luther and one of his goons blocked his path. "You're not going anywhere mutt. Not until you apologize." Cade glared at him. "I don't have time for this." Cade knew it wouldn't stop at an apology, Luther would keep making up things he'd have to do before he let him go. It' been that way since grade school. "Do it or else we'll make Otto set up another date with your sister and leave her hanging." The group laughed at that threat, as if remembering a good joke. Cade stared blankly at them. "You did what?" He snarled. "You should've seen the look on her face." Jolene, another of Luther's posse, said. "She was so depressed after waiting a whole hour for Otto to show up. As if he'd ever date an ugly bitch like her. Just for good measure we dumped buckets of mud on her." Anger rose up inside Cade's chest, but it was also joined by guilt. Lyra had the biggest crush on Otto, and if something like that happened, and he hadn't heard of it. Lyra must've been holding it in, and Cade grew even more worried. Cade shoved Luther and his lackey out of his way and ran towards the forest. He ignored Luther calling him a "Stinking half elf." behind him and kept running. Lyra had written that she was going to end it in the only happy place she had, a place they shared many memories in, and there was only one place that matched that description. Their secret base in the woods. Cade turned left at the Twisted Tree of Mystery, and then a right at the Mighty Fallen Tree Warrior. "Lyra!" He called out Cade thought back to when they first found the spot, how happy they were to have a place away from everyone that would call them names, and how they came up with the names for the places they had to pass to reach it. "Lyra! He tried again. He remembered all the games they would play, and even all the little animals they befriended. There had to be no way Lyra really wanted to kill herself there, this was all just a sick ploy to get him there. "Lyr-" Something snagged Cade's foot and he was sent tumbling down a small hill. Cade scolded himself for forgetting that tree branch. Lyra and him would say that was an intruder trap. Cade found it ironic he'd fall for it. Cade got up and ran the last stretch to the base. When he saw the giant tree, he knew he was there. "Lyra!" He called, looking around to see if he saw her. He couldn't find any trace of her, only the toys they'd left there from their childhood and never put away. Cade checked inside the little house that was against the tree. They'd always found it weird how it was just sitting there in the middle of the woods. They even thought it was haunted for a while. But eventually they used it almost everyday. The house was empty, just like Cade's hopes that his sister was ok. He turned around in a circle, wondering where she could've gone. That's when he heard a hoot. Cade stopped and locked eyes with the owl perched on one of the tree roots. The area was always inhabited by a bunch of owls, but Cade had never seen one perched so low when he was there. The Owl hooted again before flying off around the tree. Cade sensed a sort of intelligence in the bird and decided to follow it. But he soon wished he hadn't. Around the tree, a couple feet away from it, hanging from a branch, was Lyra's body. Cade stopped in his tracks, all the feeling in his body left him. All he was left with was sadness, and guilt. Cade's legs trembled, but he took another step forward, and another. Somehow he made it a few steps away from Lyra before collapsing. Tears streamed down his face. He wasn't sure if they'd just started, or if they’d been going for a while and only now he was feeling things again. Cade saw a glint on the ground below Lyra and walked to it. He picked it up, and the tears intensified. It was Lyra's ring, the one she saved up to buy. It wasn’t super pretty, nor was it expensive, but Lyra loved it because she earned the money working with their mom. Lyra held on to the ring as a dear memory. Cade held the ring close to his chest and let out a painful yell, and sobbed. Cade heard the sound of wings flapping away in fear, and wings flying close. He heard a hoot, but ignored it. He was such an idiot, how could he not see how much his sister was hurting. How could he not see that she wanted his help. If only he'd been a better brother. If only he'd stayed and listened to what she had to say that morning. "Oh sweet child, how dour this is." A voice sounded around Cade, but he didn't look up, he didn't care. "Don't blame yourself child, you were no more at fault than she was." The voice continued. It sounded almost motherly in nature, like how his mother sounded on her good days. Cade heard more hooting, and more wings flapping around him. But he didn’t care. His sister was dead, she'd killed herself and it was all his fault. There were even more hooting and Cade couldn't help but think of how they reminded him of the bullies laughing at Lyra's situation. That's when Cade realized they were just at fault as he was. Lyra wouldn’t be gone if they hadn’t bullied her into it. "I'll make them pay." Cade said to himself. "Revenge is never a good path to take, child. Your sister would not want that for you." Cade opened his eyes. He stared at the grass underneath him, at the crumbled leaves on the ground. There was something odd in their color, they were more vibrant than they should be. "But they have to pay for what they did." He told the voice. "I have to stop them before they do this again. This shouldn’t happen to anyone, and I won’t let it happen ever again." "You are not strong enough child." The motherly voice said. "But I have to be." Cade looked up and his mouth opened. The area he was in seemed to have shrunk, and tree branches grew where they hadn't been before, encircling him. But on those tree branches were owls, dozens of them, probably even hundreds. Lyra still hung above him. And while he still felt guilt, he also felt conviction. "Very well." The voice said. Cade couldn't figure out where it was coming from. "I can help make you stronger, but only if you agree to help me when I ask for it." Cade was worried. He knew better than to make deals with strange voices in the woods, but he also knew the voice was right, he wasn't strong enough to face the bullies. He'd go back to face them and they'd beat him up like they’ve done so many times before. Besides, there was something behind the voice that made it seem like Cade could trust it, as if the voice truly cared for him. "Why do you care so much?" Cade asked. "Because I feel your pain, child." The voice said. "I've watched the two of you play and grow in these woods. It feels like I've lost someone as well." Caden remembered all the owls he's seen in the woods over the years. Caden and Lyra were always alone in the woods, but Cade realized they weren't ever truly alone. "Ok." Cade said. "I accept." The roots and branches in front of him parted way for a hand to reach out. It wasn't quite a hand, it was more like a talon, and the arm was covered with feathers. Cade hesitated but a moment before grasping the talon and shaking it. The roots and branches opened up even more and the hand's owner stepped forward. The figure was an owl with an unusually expressive face. She was much larger than an owl should be, larger than anyone Cade had seen. Atop her head were white vines that descended like dreads. Simply through the handshake Cade learned the entity's name. The Owl Mother. "Come, my child. You have much to learn."

#D&D #d&d character #short story #d&d backstory #tw suidice #tw bullying #half elf #warlock #d&d warlock #archfey warlock #danilo writes

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