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misqnon · 1 year

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Masquerade

CHAPTER 7: Mz. Strife

“On the final Friday of each month, towns and cities around the country hold their monthly masquerade. Although the humans don’t know it, this is the only time supernatural beings come out of their hiding places to dance amongst the mortals.”

(Mystery, adventure, eventual human/vampire romance)

Previous Chapters

sorry for the month wait! I have 15 chapters written now (about 65K words), getting around to publishing them is just hard with such a small audience. I need Motivation. regardless, here's a chapter with a little bit of everything! i wanted to give the girls some more spotlight, but later on some other plot relevance comes along too. i struggled a little with some of the dialogue, but i tried. enjoy!

On the third day of their shared house arrest (which may be a bit of an exaggeration, but was fun to taunt Harley with) the Crain household was fairly quiet. They had nothing planned- though they could continue sparring, no one really wanted to, and Carter was nowhere to be found anyway. The four of them were at breakfast and they chatted away over eggs and bacon about useless things like the weather and the moor and the way a fox kept trying to break into the basement. Leo was enjoying himself, and Marnie was too, to an extent, but she could tell none of them knew how to entertain their guests the rest of the week. The mansion was huge, but in all this time even the Crains hadn’t figured out how to keep such a big space lively.

It didn't help that neither twin would go very far in the house without either Ace or Lilli with them, considering the other Crains were fairly quiet and reserved, and running into them was awkward and a bit frightening. Maki especially.

By this point they’d at least spoken to Harley enough to get a gauge of what he was like, but Maki and Priya hadn’t had much reason to be around them. And although Priya seemed friendly enough, if not a bit antisocial, Maki was straight up intimidating.

Marnie was lost in thought over these very issues when Lilli poked her shoulder.

“Something on your mind?”

“Huh? Oh, no, not really…I was just thinking about the others that live here. I feel kinda weird invading their space like this.”

“What? No, don’t be! We’re all alright with you being here, even if they’re quiet about it.”

“Yes, I know, it’s more that I feel weird not knowing them all that well…Especially Maki and Priya. They seem nice enough. Just…distant.”

“Yea, everyone in this house can be quite….distant, at times. Especially those two. Harley as well.”

“Yes, I can tell.” She chuckled. Then, grinning, she said, “We could have a girls night and try to get to know them all.” Then she chuckled again, because it was a joke- although Lilli didn’t seem to catch that part. So caught up in her compulsive duty to be the Peacekeeper, she had heard a suggestion of diplomacy, blacked out, and a fake, hesitant smile had appeared on her face.

“Oh! Y-Yea, we could do that!”

Marnie stared at her. “Wait, really? I was joking.”

“Oh! Well! No, probably not, but it’s a good idea. They really need to meet more people, both of them.”

“...Well then why don’t we?”

Oh god, this had all backfired. Lilli was practically sweating.

“We could definitely try, if you like!”

Marnie suddenly felt like she was talking to more of a customer service agent than her friend.

“Lilli, if you really don’t think it’s a good idea-”

“No, let’s do it!” She blurted.

Marnie just stared at her again. “...Alright. Let’s do it then.”

And then, somehow, despite neither of them wanting to, they were making two cute little invitations in Lilli’s room to hand to each of the other girls in the household.

—

After breakfast, the two had split off from Ace and Leo, who had resigned themselves to Ace’s room to lounge around and read- though they discussed another trip to the Crain household library later. Marnie and Lilli, meanwhile, had put together the small invitations and were nervously exiting Lilli’s room holding them in hand.

“Let’s ask Priya first.” Lilli advised.

Marnie agreed, and they headed down the hall to a doorway decorated with string. Some of it fell loosely, but much of it was woven together artistically, the yarn in bright colors of oranges and pinks and reds. They knocked.

A “Hm?” came from inside, and then moments later the door opened. Priya looked up at them blankly.

“Hi there.” She said.

Marnie waved. “Hi, Priya. We were thinking of having a sleepover in Lilli’s room tonight, to like…get to know each other better. If you were interested!” She spoke slow and fast at the same time. Priya blinked.

“...Sure, maybe. Is it just going to be us?”

“We’re inviting Maki too.” Lilli said, though she didn’t hide her unease. She was nervous to ask her older sister. She wasn’t scared of Maki, and the sisters all got along. But Maki wasn’t exactly friendly towards newcomers, or humans- i.e. Marnie.

“Oh, that’s interesting. I’ll come.” She said simply, and stepped out of her door, closing it behind her.

Oh. They hadn’t expected her to join them so immediately. Maybe this would help.

The three of them moved a door over to Maki’s door- which was a simple dark oak door without much decoration on it aside from a sign hanging on the doorknob that could turn between “Please Knock” and “Do Not Disturb” in nicely scrawled handwriting. There was a high chance she had heard them just moments ago, but they had to ask anyway.

Lilli knocked before Marnie could.

There was silence, and then Maki appeared at the door in a dress shirt and slacks. She looked surprised.

“...Hi?” She said, looking between the other three women of the household.

“Hi Maki!” Lilli began. “All of us were going to have a sleepover in my room tonight, to kinda get to know each other better. You’ll come, won’t you?”

Aha! Marnie knew that trick! She used it on Leo just days ago!

Maki blinked her clear purple eyes and stared, obviously thinking. She looked back at the book behind her, resting in a chair, and seemed to be on the verge of saying no. Then she pursed her lips. “I…guess?”

Lilli nearly jumped for joy. “Great! Oh, we didn’t even use the invitations,” she said, laughing as she pulled them from her pocket. She handed one to Maki, who didn’t really seem to care for it. Priya took the other and put it in her pocket, something to collage into her scrapbook later.

“Well…great! Uh, we put it on the invitations, but Lilli and I bought some food from the market the other day. I think Priya had mentioned making more food that you guys don’t get to have as often, not shopping in the human realm?”

Priya brightened. “Oh, really? I didn’t think you would actually do it…”

Marnie brightened at her obvious interest. Friendship point: gained. “Yea! We bought some stuff the day before last- it’s down in the kitchen.”

They all headed down, with Maki following silently- although somewhat amused- behind them.

—

Once there, the pair unpacked all the ingredients they’d gotten before Maki and Priya. Priya picked up each fruit and vegetable, stared at it, and seemed to be making mental notes. It’s not like she hadn’t seen any of them before- she just didn’t get to see them often. Some she hadn’t seen since her parents were around. Lilli and Maki could tell she was going to paint them later- whether it be a still life or some kind of Arcimboldo-inspired vegetable-headed person.

They’d gotten onions, carrots, celery, potatoes, and garlic (the last of which Lilli insisted would not kill them, although the smell was very strong and Marnie must be the one to dice it). For fun, they’d bought some of the less common ingredients for sale as well- roots of ginger, okra, peppers, kiwis, nectarines, asparagus, and brussel sprouts- half of which they would probably never use. They’d also acquired handmade pasta from a local artisan, and some beef from one of the butchers. The last two because they had decided on beef stew with noodles.

While Priya stared adamantly at the brussel sprouts, Lilli and Marnie prepped the kitchen. Maki stood there awkwardly, so Lilli asked if she’d possibly like to dice the vegetables- to which she agreed, hesitantly.

Soon Maki was chopping vegetables, Marnie searing meat, Lilli taking broth and butter and flour from the cabinets and was prepping dishes, and Priya had finished inspecting the produce in order to start boiling water and grabbing spices. By the time Ace, Leo, and Harley had come down to see what the smell was, dinner was well on its way, and the girls- though not necessarily making small talk, were conversing between each other and making something from nothing. Leo and Ace looked between each other, impressed. Harley looked the same- maybe even…glad. He quietly rolled up his sleeves, entered the kitchen, and said, “I’ll make some bread.”

Marnie cleared a space for him, and he spread flour over the counter while Lilli handed him a bowl.

Ace was staring, flabbergasted. It had been years since the entire family had actually come together and done something like this. The power of having guests in what had become an honestly depressing household was like throwing gas on a dull fire. He rolled up his sleeves and smiled toothily as he, too, tried to help- and of course Leo felt the need to do the same- though now there were far too many people in the kitchen to really help anything. They managed, though, especially when they ran out of butter and Ace and Leo proudly proclaimed, “We’ll go get some more!” which cleared out a bit of space.

By the end of the night, they had a lovely dinner spread. Beef stew, noodles, homemade bread, and some cooked vegetables. Lilli and Ace were overjoyed- and the twins seemed happy too. Harley was smiling quietly, as was Priya, and Maki seemed, if anything, confused- but not in a bad way. They had a nice, filling dinner, spoke, cleaned up, and then the boys retired to their rooms. The girls would have done the same, but obviously they’d promised a sleepover- and so up they went to Lilli’s room. It soon became clear that neither Maki or Priya had any intention of actually sleeping outside of their own beds, but they at least conceded to hanging out for a bit of the night before it was time to sleep.

They sat on the floor in something like a circle. Lilli sat criss-cross-applesauce, Marnie with hers to the side, Priya sat with her knees to her chest, and Maki mirrored Marnie. At first, it was quiet.

“Thank you guys for letting me do that. It was, uh…nice.” Marnie said. She fumbled a bit, but she meant it.

Priya nodded. “I enjoyed it. Thank you for bringing those fruits and vegetables. I know you didn’t intend to use them. It was kind of you.”

That made Marnie smile.

Priya continued. “I’m going to paint you in the style of Arcimboldo, with the produce making up your portrait. Do you think ginger would work for your skin tone?”

“Wh- Me?”

Priya nodded.

“That’s…so sweet of you, oh my gosh. Y-Yea, ginger should work!” Marnie, though she was good at hiding it, was pushing back tears.

“That’s so nice of you, Priya! Your artwork is amazing.” Lilli said with a smile. Priya only blushed a little, smiling to herself.

“Dinner was really great too,” Lilli continued. “It’s been…a really long time since we all got together like that.”

Maki was smiling softly, eyes on the floor. “It has.”

Everyone was silent for a moment.

“I’m glad today was a success. I was…kinda worried I still wouldn’t be accepted by everyone here, what with the mission Ace is taking us on and the fact that I’m human and…everything…” She trailed off.

Priya and Lilli nodded, but when she looked to Maki for that quick validation, she wasn’t smiling anymore, and she was still looking at the floor. Marnie dropped her smile. She looked at Maki a bit longer, waiting for any change. The redhead finally glanced up at her, eyes cold.

“I’m sorry, but I still don’t approve of what you all are doing. And I’m surprised you’re letting Ace drag you around without even knowing what he’s really planning.”

Marnie felt a pang of guilt. Lilli did, too. Priya just watched in silence, anxious over the sudden conflict. Marnie frowned.

“Oh, I’m…sorry,”

“I know what he’s after, and it’s nothing good. And I won’t tell you what it is, even though I’m sure I know. Because if I told you, the worst part is that I’m sure you all would think it's something worth searching for.”

The fact that Ace’s “treasure” was unknown was something that had been on everyone’s minds, though they tried not to think about it. They trusted him, as he had asked them to, and that was that. Besides, whether they found anything or not, in Marnie’s opinion, at least, the people in this house needed to get out and do something. See the world. Experience it. Live, for once. Not stay trapped in their house just because the world rejects them, or whatever reason it is they don’t leave. Marnie made a mental note to ask more about their history. But for now, she was just left staring at Maki, speechless.

Maki looked back to the floor, then slowly started getting up. “I’m sorry to ruin the night. I’m going back to my room now.”

They watched as she did just that, shutting the door quietly, firmly, behind her.

Priya mumbled something under her breath. “Off to her room to brood again…”

She stood. “I’ll go back to my room too. I want to get started sketching. I enjoyed tonight. I’m sorry about Maki.” Priya always talked so quietly, so monotone, without much emotion, but it was obvious she meant her words. Marnie, though shaken, and now truly holding back a few tears, thanked her, and nodded.

Priya walked to the door, and then almost nervously, without turning around, said, “It’s nice to have a new friend in the house.” And then she left.

Marnie was, understandably, a bit overwhelmed. The other two Crain sisters had conflicting views of her, and she’d been faced with both one after another. Lilli was left staring at the door after her sisters had both made their exit, her face one of sadness and disbelief. She turned to Marnie, put a gentle hand to her shoulder, and tried to soothe her.

“I’m sorry, Marnie, I knew something like this might happen- I shouldn’t have put you into a situation like this. It’s my fault, please don’t cry.”

It’s not like she was sobbing or anything, but yes, a few tears had run down her face. She wiped them and shook her head. “No, it’s not your fault Lilli. It was nice for the first half. Honestly it still went better than I expected. I didn’t even expect Maki to agree at all.” She said, trying to laugh. Lilli gave a sympathetic smile.

“I think you must be quite charismatic to get her to leave her room, period.”

Marnie laughed again. “Maybe. Maybe.”

Eventually, the two went to bed, though shortly after Lilli had presumably fallen asleep, Marnie snuck out of the room, and down the hall to Ace’s. She put her ear to the door and heard silence. She would knock, but she didn’t want to wake Ace- only her brother. But then she heard footsteps behind her.

“Marnie?”

It was Leo, in his pajamas, looking sleepy. She smiled. She had gotten lucky.

“Hey. I was just looking for you, how’d you find me?”

Leo smiled. “I was using the bathroom, dork.”

Marnie laughed back, quiet. Then Leo asked, “Everything okay?”

“...Yea. I just wanted to see you. Tonight was…weird.”

Leo crossed his arms. “Yea, I was skeptical of how that would go.” Then he looked to Ace’s door, and then past it, down the hallways between it and the bathroom.

“Wanna talk about it? We can go to the empty guest room right here.”

“...Yea. That’d be nice.”

—

The next day, things felt better. She’d gotten her feelings out with her brother, and then they ended up talking for hours as they so often did. About what Ace and Leo had done all day, when Leo was finally going to admit he had a crush on the guy, what Harley and Carter must be up to, what their mother would think of all this. And what had really happened so long ago that had led to all this?

Over coffee (needed for today) and pancakes, the twins waited while Ace hopped outside again with a poorly hidden blood pack in his pocket. After all that had happened last night, Marnie had almost forgotten they were vampires- all the conflict and strife between them had been so unapologetically human that she’d forgotten what they actually were- what they were even there for, really. And apparently, Ace liked it that way, considering he liked to pretend no one knew what he was doing whenever he “casually” stuffed a blood bag in his pocket, stepped outside, hurriedly chugged it, and stepped back in as if nothing had happened.

Now that they thought about it, they’d never seen Lilli do such a thing. But they hadn’t really seen her eat at all since they’d been here- nothing but human food. She was at the table now doing just that- munching away on some pancakes, and she did seem hungry considering the speed at which she was eating them.

Marnie then realized that Lilli’s eyes seemed red. Not in the normal way, either- her actual eyes, her irises. They had always been pink, but now they seemed a deeper shade, almost red, like Carter’s eyes.

“...Lilli, were your eyes always that color?”

“Hm?” She said, and stopped eating almost immediately. Ace, who had just gotten back, made a face, turning to his sister. She looked both guilty and embarrassed.

“Lilli, have you been eating?”

The twins weren’t stupid, and at that point realized he didn’t mean food, per se. They both looked at her and watched as she only got more uncomfortable.

“Ugh, no! I just feel-” She glanced at the twins. “I feel wrong doing it while we have…guests.”

“Lil, it’s been 4 days!” Ace chastised. She winced.

“I know, but I can go longer than you guys can, so I’ve just been…”

“Lilli.” Ace said. He- in a move uncomfortable for him too, no doubt- reached into the fridge, pulled out a bag, and tossed it to her. She caught it and stood.

Leo, surprisingly, spoke up. “You know, you guys don’t have to…Leave, every time. We know you drink blood.” Marnie nodded accordingly. Their friends hummed and hawed and eventually went outside anyway, leaving the twins to look between each other, Leo just shrugging.

Marnie sighed. “Ya know, I thought we were supposed to be the ones afraid of them, not the other way around.”

Leo finished the last of his pancakes and took another sip of coffee. “For one, I am still scared of some of them. And two, they aren’t scared of us, they’re scared of freaking us out. Because, ya know. They drink our blood.” Sip.

Marnie punched his shoulder and he nearly spilled a bit. “Hey!”

“I thought you were over that.”

“Well, for the most part. I don’t know if I can really truly get over it. I really like Ace, but if he comes anywhere near my neck area I’m going to freak out and call for you.”

“Don’t say that so loud, they’re just outside!” She hushed. “And they must have like…super hearing, or something.”

“I believe Ace told me they’re senses aren’t superpower levels of amazing, just better than a human’s. Something akin to a dog or a cat.”

“Huh. Do you think that’s enough for them to hear if I say you have a big fat crush on Ace?”

“MARNIE-”

The door opened again. Lilli, already, looked perkier and pinker than before. She graciously apologized, then thanked them for their understanding. Ace sat down looking pleased with himself.

“Oh, by the way!” He said, holding up a finger. “I think…that we should go on a hike together, the four of us.”

“A hike?” Marnie asked.

“Yea! There’s actually a small forest out beyond the moor. It’s about a 10 minute walk from the house. We should go walk around, hang out a bit. It’s something to do.”

Lilli nodded in agreement, smiling- as if she would ever say no to something like this- and Marnie agreed. Leo, as always, followed the group’s decision, and went to grab some better shoes. While he was gone, Lilli leaned over to Marnie’s ear.

“I could hear you, by the way.”

They both snickered.

—

The four of them got themselves ready, changing into appropriate clothes, and packing small backpacks with water bottles and blood bags respectively. They weren't going to be gone for hours or anything, but it was still nice to have.

They left out the back door and made their way out across the moor. There was a small dirt path from wear over the years that led a winding route over the wide open grass, which they followed to the edge of a small wood. A rabbit was near the entrance and ran off when the group approached, scuttling into a bush.

"You guys ready?" Ace asked, turning to the group with his sunglasses in hand. He had them on for the walk over, but pushed them back into his blonde hair for the walk in the shaded forest.

"Hell yeah." They all replied.

The forest was beautiful on a day like this. The sun shined in through the leaves and bright yellow-green reflections lit up the wooded space. They really highlighted Ace's eyes, which was probably noticed only by Leo.

The path was fairly easy-going- not much of a hike as much as a nature walk. It was at a very slight incline at some places, but for the most part it was as unelevated as the moor before it. Roots stuck up in the dirt path that Leo had to be careful not to trip on. It reminded him of the night he and Ace first met- when they all first met.

It was a little crazy to think back on now. Just four days ago he'd attended his first masquerade ball, only to have the playful, handsome man he'd befriended reveal himself as a vampire in the middle of the woods at night. He had been terrified.

But now, Ace was almost normal to him- part of his new routine. Someone he saw everyday that wasn't Marnie. Someone he saw in a different way.

The walk was a good time to think. While the others chatted or even walked in silence themselves, Leo would take the time glancing over birds and plants and trees to consider his life at the moment. And his mind was considering the friends he'd made, the journey ahead of them, and the dangers that might be present along with it.

But he was also thinking about Ace.

It was hard not to. He was a natural leader, and often the center of attention in whatever circle he found himself in. How could he not be? He was charming- funny, tall, handsome, energetic.

Honestly, Leo usually found himself attracted to people more like himself- at least in theory. He thought he'd be into someone stoic, reserved, dark hair, low energy, mysterious past. Ace was none of those, aside from the mysterious part. Yet he found himself falling harder than he ever had before, especially as he watched the Key Keeper running ahead all smiles and fangs and lively laughter.

God, he had it bad. But whether he wanted to- or even could- date a vampire definitely had him…at a loss. Even if that wasn't the case, he wasn't the type to confess. His last girlfriend had confessed to him, and he wasn't even very suave about that.

Marnie asked him for a water from his bag and he left his thoughts for a moment to oblige. While he was zipping it back up, who would come over but the blonde himself. Leo was bent down over the pack and hadn't even noticed he'd approached.

"Remind you of anything, Leo?"

Hearing the other's voice nearly made him jump.

"Oh! I didn't know you were there." He said, slipping the backpack back on over his tank top. Ace was wearing one too, and he was taking gratuitous peaks whenever possible.

"Yea, snuck up on ya. It's a skill." He said, smiling.

Leo blushed. They started walking again, Ace keeping pace by his side now.

"What were you asking?"

"Oh, I was asking if this reminded you of anything." He said, looking around. "I keep thinking about the night we met at the masquerade. It's…kinda embarrassing, honestly." He said, chuckling as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Leo smiled with an inquisitive look. "Embarrassing because of how we met, or embarrassing because you keep thinking about it?"

"...Well I meant the latter, but I guess you have been occupying my mind a bit more than others. Is that embarrassing? Maybe." Ace said, laughing.

Leo was flattered. And also unsure how to take that, really. He asked Ace to elaborate.

"I just haven't had a human friend before- but truly, none of us have had many friends in general. I mean, it's just us at the house, and it's not like we go anywhere. Masquerade nights are fun, but it's hard to make friends that last more than a night, especially when you can't really find them afterwards. But also, you've kinda….I don't know. You've proved me wrong, I guess. And right, at the same time."

Well, that only prompted more questions. "How so?"

"Well, I expected you to be terrified. And you were." He said, chuckling. "But you were also willing to understand despite that. And you were still scared when you came to the mansion, and when you met the others, and had that ordeal with Carter, and I expected you to leave after all of that because I knew how it made you feel. But you stayed. And you helped me with Monroe, and you're helping with this project…You're just a very interesting guy, Leo. I never know what to expect."

Leo could've dug the toes of his shoes into the dirt all bashful like, but he held back the urge to deny it all. He felt…appreciated. He smiled.

"...Thanks, Ace. I kinda feel the same way about you. And it was a fun masquerade. Even though it was also an…interesting one."

Ace laughed. "Was I a good dancer, by the way?"

Man, Leo would give anything to dance with Ace again. He wished it wasn't so short. "Yea, actually, you were."

"Let's dance again at the next masquerade. I need a good dance partner to keep me in line." He said, winking.

Leo was overjoyed. "I'd be happy to oblige." He said, mock-bowing.

Marnie and Lilli were a few steps ahead, glancing back and rolling their eyes (in a loving way) at the dorks behind them. Soon the group came to a clearing that overlooked a river below them. It may have been daytime, but the babbling brook and its iridescent water running through the grass and the stones was a lovely sight, one you had to stop and appreciate as much as any shooting star. Marnie stopped and watched intently, and Lilli came over and leaned her head on the other girl's shoulder, watching too.

Leo took a moment to glance at them before looking back at the river too. They were so cute. He was glad they'd found each other.

Then, to his surprise, a pair of arms slung themselves over his shoulders. Ace clasped his hands at Leo's chest and rested his head on top of the brunette's. He just sighed happily, looking over the sight like what he'd just done hadn't had any affect on Leo.

Leo usually wasn't the type to be affectionate that way; he wasn't a touchy person. But coming from Ace? Well, he could allow that. Maybe even welcome it. He just smiled all stupid like knowing Ace couldn't see and leaned back a little more, his back resting on Ace's chest.

It was nice. A really nice, quiet moment.

Then Marnie said, "Wait, is that a person?"

Everyone looked to where her gaze lay. Leo squinted, barely able to make out what she meant in the bright sunshine blasting across the river: but no, she was right. There was someone on the other side of the river bank, a few hundred feet away, standing in the foliage.

They all thought, for a moment, that maybe Carter or Priya had followed them. But no, it didn't seem to be either of them. Ace and Lilli each stood back with a concerned expression, then spread their wings. They grabbed the twins as they swooped down, making a B-line for the intruder on their property, who had yet to notice them. That was, until they were just about to land on the river bank. She turned, eyes wide, and sprinted inhumanly fast into the brush.

"Hey!" Ace called, but with no response. The four of them landed and began running as fast as they could after her- Leo and Marnie far behind.

"Hey! Excuse me!" Lilli cried, trying her best to keep up. Even from back where they were, running as fast as their thin human legs could take them, Leo and Marnie could tell the vampires were being outrun. Which shouldn't be possible, if said intruder was human. Was it another vampire? They were under the impression that the Crain family were the only ones here. And apparently, Ace and Lilli thought the same.

It didn't take much running before they made it to another clearing. Ace and Lilli stopped, which allowed the twins to catch up moments later, wheezing and panting as they tried to catch their breath.

"Did we…" Leo groaned. "Did we lose them?"

Everyone looked around. Then, Ace's ears twitched ever so slightly, and he ran to the clearing's edge. They followed, and the four of them watched as a large, sleek brown wolf dotted down the moor and into a different clump of foliage.

They were speechless. Marnie breathlessly pushed a lock of hair back. "Was that…Was that a werewolf?"

Ace sniffed the air. "Yea. Had to have been."

Lilli wrung her hands. "Why on earth is there a werewolf in Blighton moor? Shouldn't Carter have caught that on his rounds?"

"Yea, unless he was slacking so he could do other things." Ace grunted.

"God, I hope it isn't after the village. I'm worried for the humans. It's not like they prepare for these things anymore."

"But it can't get in the human realm, right? I mean, not without one of Ace's keys?" Marnie asked.

Ace pulled out his key ring and followed the keys one by one as he spun it ‘round his fingers. "Yea, but I definitely didn't let it in here, either."

He pocketed them, and the four of them hurriedly made their way back home.

—

They knocked on Harley's door the moment they returned, and explained to him what they'd saw- giving the eldest Crain yet another thing to worry about. After that, they alerted Carter, who claimed to have been doing his rounds regularly- no goofing off. The werewolf must be new- as new as today. Carter slung on a leather coat and headed out soon after they’d told him.

Werewolves were rare, the twins learned. Rarer than vampires. Unlike vampires, werewolves were not born, they were made. Once infected, werewolves became infertile- so the only way to become one was to be bitten, or to come in contact with their bodily fluids. It wasn't a species as much as it was an affliction.

That being said, it made werewolf attacks less common, as they were still distinctly human in some respects. It didn't make them crazy, so long as it wasn't the full moon. Unfortunately for them, the full moon was only two days away. The same day they were set to leave for Catron.

Luckily, Harley had said nothing about changing their plans. But the four of them went to bed that night a bit more worried about this journey than they already had been previous.

—

#writing #original story #original characters #vampire oc #vampires #supernatural #lgbt #lgbt writing #lgbt story #fic #fanfiction #vampire x human #original series #masquerade update #masquerade story #chapter 7

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mandos-sluts · 3 years

Text

Ending 1: How Much Longer

Wordcount: 1.3k

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, dirty talk, dubious consent

Summary: Mando grows impatient waiting for his ship to be done but somehow causes the process to take even longer

Story beginning

Ending 2 and Ending 3

You spend the rest of the day working on repairing the Crest, and wake up early the next morning to resume repairs.

“Now to get some of the electrical wiring fixed.” You mutter to yourself as you make your way to the junction box.

You grab a rolling trolly to make it easier to work underneath the ship. Laying on your back, you slide the upper half of your body underneath the ship and get to work. You put the red wire where the blue wire was, and put the red one where the blue one was, etc.

You're lying underneath the ship on your back rewiring the calcinator. You’re wearing a tank top and a pair of loose short shorts. You hear heavy footsteps move toward your direction.

“How much longer will this take?” You hear Mando ask.

“As much time as it takes.” You answer in a snarky tone.

Mando let out an evident short sigh.

“Good work takes time.” You follow up.

You hear his footsteps move closer, and feel something surrounding one of your legs. You peer down and see Mando’s feet on either side of your left leg.

“Anything I can do to expedite the process?” He says as he inches his feet further up your leg, his right foot forcing your legs slightly further apart as his pants brush against your bare leg.

“I– uhh, not really.” You stutter. You feel his stance move even further up, and now his ankle is firmly against your crotch. Your pussy starts to pulse at the contact.

“Are you sure there's nothing I can do?” He questions as he begins moving his ankle up and down, rubbing his pants on your groin as you grow wetter and wetter. *see gif*

“I’m not sure, you may just slow me down...or– or distract me.” You respond.

Mando suddenly drops to his knees and swings your left leg around him so that you are straddling him. You gasp and you can feel your panties dampen at his bold and unapologetic behavior.

He growls. “Well, you’re distracting me.” Mando says and as he rubs his bulge against your cunt. “You think you can work on my ship in these tiny little shorts and act so innocent?” He growls, grinding against your pussy.

With your upper half still underneath the ship, your eyes roll to the back of your head and let out a whimper. Mando easily moves your shorts to the side and exposes your lace thong. He admires the wet spot forming at the crotch of your panties and runs his finger along it.

“Fuck.” He spits. “Look at you, soaking wet while reconstructing my wiring.” Mando says as he drags a finger between over your clothed folds.

You let out a whine and drop your tool down beside your head. He begins circling your clit over your panties with his finger and you can feel your heartbeat pulsing through your pussy.

“Perhaps I’ll try and entice you to move faster.” He says as his fingers tease your entrance. You let out some light moans as your breathing becomes heavier. “Yeah, baby girl? Would you like that?” Mando says in a slightly mocking tone as he begins to circle your clit faster.

“Yes, Mando, please.” You whisper.

“You're going to have to be louder than that, pretty girl.” He purrs. “I can't hear you all the way underneath my ship.”

Your eyes quickly scan the floor around Mando and make sure that none of your coworkers are in sight. “Yes! Mando, I need you, please.” You call out.

Mando roughly shoves your panities to the side, displaying your dripping wet pussy to him. You feel his gloved finger make contact with your clit and your back arches. “Ahh!” You squeal out.

He shoves his middle finger inside of you and starts pumping it in and out. Mando stares down at your pussy, so turned on by the fact that his glove is damp from your juices. He adds another finger into your cunt and your moans become louder.

“Mmmm, I knew this pussy would be tight,” Mando says. You moan loudly as his thumb returns to your clit.

“M-Mando, I want your cock in me.” You say between breaths.

Mando chuckles. “What a desperate dirty little thing you are.” He grabs your hip to still you so he can thrust his fingers into you faster. “Begging me to fuck you while your lying under my ship.”

He pulls out his hard swollen dick from his pants. You can see the precum dripping down his shaft from the corner of your eye.

He swiftly enters you and you let out a small yelp.

“Fuck!” You breathe out. “Your cock is huge.” You say as you feel the girth of his cock stretching you out. It takes a moment for you to adjust to his size but once you do, it feels like his cock was made to be in you.

Mando picks up the pace and you can feel his balls slapping your ass as he rails you. “Fucking shit your pussy is so tight.” He says under his breath. He continues to pound you. One of his hands is holding your hip so tight there are sure to be bruises tomorrow. He brings his other hand to your swollen clit and begins circling it. The combination of his deep penetration and clit play sends shocks throughout your body, and you can feel your orgasm approaching.

“You let all your customers fuck you while you work for them? Huh?” Mando mocks. His thrusts become slower but much much harder, plunging into you so hard you begin to see stars. “Or are you just a slut for me?” Mando asks.

You’re biting your bottom lip so hard to try and keep yourself from screaming and deter your moans from echoing throughout the yard. But you open your mouth to respond and your lewd moans are forced out with every thrust.

“Ah! Just– Ah! For you.” You respond before bringing your hand up to your mouth. The last thing in the world you want is for one of your colleagues to hear you.

“Mmmm that’s right, pretty girl.” Mando says. “I want you to cum. I want you to cum while I’m fuck– fucking you under my ship.” He orders.

This sends you over the edge and your orgasm rips throughout you while your muffled moans become louder. Your hole starts fluttering and Mando can feel his cock being squeezed.

“Ahh what a good girl you are, so obedient.” Mando grunts. His thrusts begin to become more erratic and he moves his hand that was on your clit to your other hip, forcing you in place as he slams into you. You can feel his cock tensing up inside of you and can hear him muttering profanity under his breath. Mando quickly shoves your shirt up your torso and pulls his throbbing cock out of you. You watch as he jerks himself over you before his seed spews all over the bottom of your stomach.

Mando puts his dick back in his pants and puts your panties and shorts back in place. He stands up and you roll yourself out from underneath the ship. Mando puts out his hand, and you grab it and he pulls you up, your tank top still hiked up and his cum still covering your stomach. You walk over and grab a clean rag and wipe yourself off.

“What great customer service you have here.” Mando says leaning against his ship crossing his arms.

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian fanfiction #star wars smut #mando x reader #pedro pascal smut #mandalorian smut #star wars fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin smut #star wars x y/n #star wars x you #star wars x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #mando x you

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popatochisssp · 4 years

Note

Hello Poppy! I hope you slept well! Here is the reminder you requested to create a mob au hc post like the cowboy post. Have a wonderful day!

Thank you, it’s finally time! I’m gonna put it under a cut immediately because having twenty skeletons makes every post with all of them automatically a long one!

Full disclaimer-- none of the boys are bosses, that falls on the monarch(s) of their universes... but that doesn’t mean they don’t have their own roles to play~

(Warnings: mentions of crime, drugs, violence, sex, brief sexism [probably not the way you’d think] and ableism, plus all the usual mob-tropes I may have forgotten to mention)

Sans (Undertale): He’s a...humble purveyor of items, quality goods produced economically in order to pass those savings on to the crafty consumer who might not want to pay full, exorbitant price for ‘name-brand’ luxuries... Yeah, he’s the ‘you wanna buy a watch?’ guy and he spends most of his days (strategically) wandering around the city looking for customers to hock knockoff, lookalike watches, wallets and bags to. The fuzz know him by name but can never seem to find anything to hold him on, so he’s mostly just a harmless nuisance to be shooed along elsewhere if there’s been any complaints. (He’s real good at making friendly conversation with the law enforcement and keeping all eyes on him, and frankly, if there were any real shady business going on somewhere nearby... well, the cops certainly wouldn’t know about it, too busy hustling him along down the street, now would they?)

Papyrus (Undertale): An upstanding citizen, unlike his brother who’s always in some little trouble with the law or other. He is gainfully employed at a fitness center, and he commutes there by car, because paid for his license to operate one and practiced his driving skills and saved up until he could afford a very beautiful, shiny car of his own! It’s a very nice vehicle...so nice, even, that he doesn’t like to drive it for...recreational outings with friends, in case the paint might get scuffed. That’s why his friends let him borrow their cars when they go out, and let him drive very fast (but safely!) all over the city, even at strange hours or by ‘suspicious’ locations. He’s certainly never seen anything suspicious going on, he just waits outside, and if he happens to keep a First Aid kit in his glove-box, that’s just taking precautions, isn’t it? Accidents happen, you know! (He’s the best getaway driver in town and he knows it, but plausible deniability--the less he ‘knows,’ the better.)

Sky (Underswap Sans): Just your average, ordinary businessman, running a nice little bar for average, ordinary folks of all kinds. Well... he co-owns the place with a buddy of his, Grillby, but Grillbz is a free spirit and a real man about town, so really most of the ‘running’ is down to him. And he loves it! So many people (monsters and humans) to meet and chat with and serve... human food and alcohol, of course. Monster food and alcohol isn’t legalized yet to serve to humans, and a black mark like that against his little establishment would be just awful. He adheres fully to the rules and regulations set forth by human governmental agencies, no magic in anything he passes across the counter, skeleton’s honor! ...Total bullshit, obviously-- he’s running a speakeasy for humans who want to partake in a little monster food or booze, because it’s not harmful to humans and that makes it an even stupider regulation than prohibition was. Grillby taught him most of the menu and cooks on the rare occasions he’s in, while Sky handles the liquid menu and keeps an eye-socket out for snitches and inspectors trying to catch him in the act. He’s never missed a rat yet.

Paps (Underswap Papyrus): He works at his brother’s place. In the back. Only part-time, though, Sky’s got it mostly buttoned up there, so Paps has a lot of leisure time to wander around the city, hit up his favorite joints, chat with friends--and strangers that can become friends, he’s a friendly sorta guy. And if he’s ever seen sharing a cigarette or two with one of those friends, of course it’ll be a totally normal tobacco cigarette, and no exchange of money or anything else incriminating about the interaction. ...Doggo is the one that does the deals, he’s got the Dog Treat supply and a client base that’s steadily starting to include humans--but since Dog Treats are classed as Monster Consumables and illegal to distribute to humans, in spite of being non-addictive, only mildly affective, and non-irritant to lungs, things get a little more convoluted. Paps hits up Doggo at Muffet’s (a wholly monster establishment) for the Dog Treats and a client list, ‘refurbishes’ the Treats to resemble cigarettes, and then meets up with anybody who prepaid for their order real casual-like to fence ‘em. He gets a little cut of the profits, and a discount when he’s picking up for pleasure instead of business--like a (slightly) more illegal girl scout cookie racket.

Jasper (Underfell Sans): Him? He’s just an average joe in all respects. He’s got a little auto shop, spends his days tuning up cars and bikes and such as the like, and most evenings out having fun with anybody else who’s out looking to have a good time--food and drink and maybe a little gambling, but small games, low stakes, for charity, yanno? Nothing illegal, he’d freely assure anyone concerned about the law. Yep, he’s a perfectly normal, law-abiding citizen...as far as anyone can tell. If he does a little work on the side, when specifically requested to, by perhaps one of his monarchs or one of the parties they’d approved to ask for his...services... Well, he’s certainly too quick and clean about it to leave any hard evidence behind, and he’s always far away from...whatever may have happened...with too many witnesses all in agreement that he was there and couldn’t have been anywhere else, unless he could somehow make it across town in the blink of an eye. (His side-gig is as a hitman. He keeps his shortcut ability very tightly under wraps to make for perfect alibis, and takes his targets out with magic bullets which he can disappear afterwards. If he’s ever somehow implicated in anything, he’s happy to point out to the nice officers that he doesn’t even own a weapon. They’re free to look, but all they’ll find is a set of knuckledusters he keeps on his person, purely for protection--and look how shiny the brass is, never even been used, officers! Guess they’ve got nothing on him, after all...)

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus): A law-abiding citizen. He must be--surely one can’t get more law-abiding than a lawyer...right? He actually does keep his (lack of) nose clean, but studying the convoluted mess that is human law doesn’t leave time for much else--even when your studies are funded by royalty and you’re given everything you need to open up your own practice as soon as you’ve passed the bar. Still, his skill and knowledge in arguing the law is very valuable and his services are in high demand, so he’s well-compensated for his chosen career and lives his life outside of it both comfortably and legally. His clients...are innocent until proven guilty and it would be an extreme failing of his duty to give any of them anything less than his best in the courtroom, regardless of their character, their associations, and what they happen to have been accused of. (Yeah, he’s a mob lawyer, used almost exclusively by Asgore and Toriel to protect them and anyone they send to him and all of their collective...interests. He respects the law, but values justice above it, so in spite of having a lot of clients who are definitely criminals in one way or another, he has no trouble sleeping at night.)

Mal (Swapfell Sans): He’s an accountant, nothing more, nothing less. ...For Toriel, of course, so he’s paid well for his services. And he has quite a head for numbers and figures, so he plays the stock market and does quite well there, too, smart investments and reading the writing on the wall, and all that. It’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for his very healthy finances and his lavish lifestyle--fur coats, fine suits, fancy cars, shiny gold pocket-watches-- it’s all expensive and almost over the top, but hey, he is the money-man and all the numbers check out. It seems that he’s just very good at handling and investing his capital, it’s no wonder the monster-queen herself hired him on... (He is, of course, running several money laundering schemes at any given time, taking all the less-than-legally-obtained money earned by constituents of the [former] Empire and layering it through official channels to make it look legal in such a convoluted, complex web that it doesn’t raise any significant red flags. He’s got his claws in a lot of pies, and he takes what he needs off the top to live a little luxuriously, with Toriel’s knowledge and permission-- a perk for the necessary service he provides.) Whatever else may be true, it’s a simple fact that he’s very, very good at his job.

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus): With the lucrative career his brother has, the lucky SOB doesn’t have to work a day in his life if he doesn’t want to, but he’s using the safety net to pursue his passion in art. Subjective as it is, it’s hard to say if he’s really any good, but people seem to like what he produces well-enough--not a household name, but people passionate about the subject might recognize his work and his pieces sell with at least moderate success. For all that it’s probably not going to make him famous or rich(er than his brother), he’s dedicated to his craft and regularly makes bulk purchases of his supplies, canvas and reams of paper and paint and ink and the like, to keep up his steady work and art sales. He seems like an altogether normal and down-to-earth sort of guy, nothing suspicious about him at all. (He’s a counterfeiter and works in tandem with his brother--they even hit a Bureau together to lift a set of plates for the one and only active crime he was involved in--and his art is just a really good cover for why he needs so much ink and paper and other supplies on a regular basis. He does love and care about his art career, that part’s not fake, but he’s also got a good eye-socket for detail and steady hands to replicate it, and if fake human money that looks really real can help monsters, he doesn’t really see why he shouldn’t.)

Slate (Horrortale Sans): He’s...been through a lot. All monsters have, really, but he was hit kind of especially hard and... Whatever Gerson, or Undyne, or whoever’s running things now up on the Surface are getting involved in...he doesn’t really want any part of it. He gets regular stipends for some unspecified ‘service’ he performed for the Queen, Underground, and while no human (alive) knows what that was, it’s apparently enough to live off of relatively comfortably without being employed himself. He has a nice little place with his brother on the outskirts of the city and he lives there quietly, peacefully. He rarely goes into town, just the occasional walkabout, stopping at restaurants or scoping out the architecture. (Part of his one concession to being left out of whatever illegal, mob-type business may or may not be going on: he needs a good mental map of the city and at least a few landmarks that he’ll definitely remember, because he’s the emergency evac should...anything...go especially south. The house phone doesn’t ring too often in the middle of the night, but when it does, he needs to know where he needs to be, and quick.)

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus): He’s, ah... not involved in any ‘business’ either, but he does spend a little more time out of the house, at the local hospital. He was allowed to make a study of human medicine and become a nurse by Very Special Exception--mostly due to some friends (or at least one) in high places, and some very backwards human attitudes about parts that constitute a ‘man’ and how a skeleton without any parts could perhaps be allowed into nursing--and he’s proven himself a valuable member of staff and even made friends with all of his coworkers. He’s happy at his job, and with his life, and returns home to his quiet, peaceful house every night with a smile. (He has a go-bag ready by the phone for those late night calls, though, full of healing items and medical equipment he may have subtly nicked from the hospital, just so he has everything he needs to treat a monster or a friendly human that may have gotten hurt...somehow...and for reasons they have no need to specify, can’t risk going to a doctor.)

Ash (Undergloom Sans): Just a poor street musician...or at least, that’s what most people figure, ‘cause he doesn’t dress too well and the trombone he plays while sitting out on the sidewalk looks like it’s probably the nicest thing he owns. He gets a couple bucks from time to time, but rarely any second glances, and that... That works in his favor. You’d be surprised how much people talk about when they think nobody’s listening (or at least...nobody important) and he can pick up a lot of interesting information of what’s going on in the city just by setting up in the right spot and waiting for folks to talk business. He’s pretty quiet when he’s not tooting the ol’ horn and great at blending into the background, and that’s made him the guy to go to when you want to know something--like how much somebody else knows, or if there are any plans in place for say, a raid or a sting or some kind. (Law enforcement is the worst about keeping proprietary information ‘proprietary’ when they think their only audience is some nobody monster bum sleeping on a bench...) He’s also got something of a whole information network going on with the actual homeless people in the city, since he gives great tips about places who are hiring or somewhere to get a meal or a bed for the night and he always gives his earnings from busking to those who need it more than him. He’s paid for the service he provides and he’s got a home to go back to, it just seems right that the music-money goes to help somebody else.

Yrus (Undergloom Papyrus): He works as a nanny for the Queen! Not too long ago, she might’ve opted to just stay home and look after her newly adopted child herself, while Asgore handled business with the humans, but... They’re freshly split now, and Toriel wants to be just as involved in things as Asgore as much as she wants to s l o w l y ease into being a full-time mother again. Yrus is the solution, already fond of little Frisk and a very warm and trustworthy soul who stayed bright even in the gloom of the Underground. He happily takes the job when asked and splits his time between supervising and caring for Frisk, and tutoring them in all the important subjects (math, history, magic, et cetera). He finds he has a passion for teaching and thinks he might go into that someday, when Frisk is older and Toriel has a little more time and confidence to no longer need him as a buffer. (Whatever it is, specifically, that takes up so much of Toriel’s time and keeps her out so late that he sometimes has to wait around well past Frisk’s bedtime for her to come back and ask after them... Yrus couldn’t fathom a guess and isn’t going to ask any questions. That would definitely be out of his scope as a simple child-minder and even if he knew anything, it would be an extreme violation of the family’s privacy for him to tell tales, which he’s happy to point out to anyone with a lot of questions for somebody so close to two of the Dreemurrs.)

Brick (Horrorfell Sans): He’s on his brother’s payroll. It seemed like the best way to kill two birds with one stone: he’s a big, scary-looking wall of bone who isn’t well suited to a regular-joe sorta job, and his bro’s a very high-profile guy who needs somebody big and scary-looking to stand next to him and be a deterrent. Nepotism, maybe, but they’ve been looking after each other their whole lives already and it’s something Brick knows he can do--he’d do it for free, but if King thinks it’s better (and safer) to have it as his job description, he’s probably right, so Brick’ll take the paycheck for it. King’s also very likely the only one who could stop him if he...lost control...somewhere out and about, so sticking close to him makes Brick feel better and hey, maybe they’re actually killing three birds with this stone of an arrangement. Still, he mostly just goes about town with King, standing around and watching his back and staring people down when he needs to while his brother carries on with his conversations and business. He hardly ever has to do anymore than that...almost never. (One of his favorite places to go is a little hole-in-the-wall craft shop, where King always pretends to take longer than he needs so Brick can peruse the yarn and try to pick up a little sign language from the nice old deaf lady who owns the place.)

King (Horrorfell Papyrus): Yes, yes, he’s very high profile--he did lead monsterkind for a time, getting everyone up to the Surface and settled there--but he’s since stepped down. He’s retired, and anything his successor may be involved in... surely, he couldn’t say. He and Toriel are barely in contact and the money he receives from her on the regular is a gift of goodwill, mostly for medical expenses (his leg, and his brother’s...well). All he does these days is collect for a charity, a pet project of his, Monster Reparations. Lots of people give such generous donations when he goes around to ask for them, maybe impressed a little by his fame, but he can’t feel too terribly about using it for such a worthy cause... (It’s a thinly veiled protection racket and the people and businesses who buy into it tend not to fall victim to ‘mysterious’ criminal activity. Toriel may be officially calling the shots now, but King, as the monster who put her back there, is in a very unique position of power in having her ear, an unofficial underboss totally off the books. Some ‘donate’ more than necessary when he comes collecting, hoping to earn preferential treatment, and sometimes they get it and sometimes they don’t--it’s entirely down to King’s opinion of them personally. ...The old woman who runs the craft store pays about half the going rate, and the immigrant who imports the miniature trees he likes gets a heavy discount, too. The deli-owner he overheard hurling discriminatory epithets at a customer, however, pays triple. You get the idea.)

Merc (Horrorswap Sans): He’s a researcher. Highly confidential, he’s sworn to secrecy and even mentioning that he’s being funded by Elder King Shroomba is pushing the boundaries of what he’s allowed to talk about. Still, he has his own facility, and several assistants, monster volunteers and sometimes human ones--but they have to sign papers swearing not to talk about what goes on in the lab, too. From what they are allowed to say, the gist is just that it didn’t seem like anything sinister was going on; not even a blood-draw... Merc seems pretty happy to leave at the end of every day, though, and whenever it comes up, he talks very fondly about being able to finish the project. (He’s researching DT, specifically how it can be used to enhance monster physiology and make them more resistant to damage from intent. Merc’s misadventure with DT destabilized him, but from 1HP he’s now more durable than ever, and his second attempt with his brother had less dramatic but still noticeable and successful results. The king wants that safety net for more monsters, especially ones who are on the front lines of...potentially less than legal dealings...who could really be at risk. Merc is reluctant, but with the stipulation of informed, willing volunteers for DT extraction and infusion, he can’t bring himself to turn down the resources and funding to research his own condition and bring the possibility of being normal again ever closer. He still has a hard time with the idea of ‘enhancing’ monsters, but the fact that it’s at least being done safely, willingly, and with a whole team behind it this time helps a lot.)

Ell (Horrorswap Papyrus): He’s in a wheelchair but not letting it keep him down, and he’s running a modest little newspaper stand on the corner--papers and magazines and cheap books--nothing all that special but boy, what an inspiration, good for him that he’s got a job and can run the place by himself! All kinds come and go from his stand, and sometimes he closes it up for a little bit in the middle of the day to take a...er...roll, with some people who must be friends of his, but he’s never gone too long, so nobody says anything to the poor guy about the inconvenience. He’s a dedicated businessman, or trying to be; won’t even let people help him with those heavy-looking boxes of deliveries he gets, and for a fella with no legs, he seems to be doing his best! (...The whole thing is a low-key smuggling operation and he is making bank off it. There’s a system of code-words in place related to the publications he sells for a ‘customer’ to indicate whether they’re buying or selling, and what--magic consumables, stolen/hot items, imported goods, the works--and where and when they want things to go down. There’s even hidden compartments in his custom-built wheelchair for some of the riskier stuff, because he knows no cop in their right mind would force a guy with no legs out of his chair just to search it with witnesses around. And that’s presuming any law enforcement were to even catch wise to his set-up, which he kind of doubts: he’s sly and subtle and even if he weren’t, he knows people see the chair before they see him. Why not take advantage of that?)

Pitch (Horrorswapfell Sans): He makes his living as a boxer, and a subsequent minor celebrity. Pretty much any match he’s in is an exhibition match--not just a monster, not just a little guy (...relatively), but a short skeleton monster who’s blind, wow! You don’t see that every day, that’s a spectacle! Plenty of ‘ooh’s and ‘ahh’s in the packed stands every night the sightless skeleton scrapper is in the ring and nobody can figure out how he bobs and weaves so well that he hardly ever gets hit. He loses some matches, that’s to be expected, even for a ‘normal’ fighter, but hey, people love an underdog story, so when he wins, it’s an uproar every time. (For his part, Pitch hates most of his ‘fans’ who think of him the same way they probably think of a silly little dog who learned a funny trick, but the fame in general, and the thrill of the fight... Those are enough to keep him in the ring. Just... maybe not quite enough to keep him fighting clean. He’s as dirty as sportsmen come and he and a few other monsters regularly play his own odds with the bookies: he’ll subtly use magic to cheat and stay in longer, or go down when he could easily keep fighting, whatever’s more profitable with the over/under from match to match. If he’s going to be a circus act doing what he loves, he may as well get hazard pay for his dignity... and y’know, a couple of idiots who think being able to fight is a ‘trick’ because you’re blind aren’t nearly so annoying when you’re being driven away from them in a luxury car, to your expensive house in the hills decked out with all the amenities.)

Nemo (Horrorswapfell Papyrus): He’s got a place he looks after, keeps things running. Just a small joint, nothing fancy, a little cabaret variety show type place--singing, dancing, drinks on tap, that kinda thing. After dark, some of the...performances... might get a little more risqué, stuff that titillates like burlesque and striptease, but rest assured, his permits are all in order and everything’s on the up and up. Nothing illegal whatsoever going on here, just a bit of singing and dancing and everybody having a good time. (Most of the performers are sex workers--monsters, but some humans too--and patrons can negotiate private shows or off-the-clock ‘meetings’ at their discretion. Nemo opts to not know too much of the details of what his dancers do when he’s not looking, for legal reasons, but he makes sure they have a safe place to do it, are paid for their services, and don’t have repeat problem-patrons if any slip through. Being one of the gentlemen running such an establishment in the city that doesn’t happen to touch or steal from or mistreat the performers, his place is the place to get hired if that’s your line of work. He’s mostly just happy to be able to provide the job security and the job safety for a group that really seems to catch a lot of hell up here on the Surface just for how they make their money.)

Sunny (Gastertale Sans): He’s a busy guy, bouncing around from place to place, job to job... Being so scattered, you might think he’d be having money troubles by now, but while he may not be the type to stick with one thing and stay there for a good few years, nobody who knows him would say he’s unreliable--he’s the type of guy that you can give him a call anytime and if you need help, he’ll be right over, and he’ll get the job done well, too! Of course he lives with his fancypants brother, and the King and Queen probably spot him a loan or two now and then, since they’re friendly, so all in all, no one really wonders how he makes enough money to live so comfortably. The answer’s right there in their face...isn’t it? (Yes and no. He is the kind of guy you can call anytime to get a job done, and he will do it well, but the money he gets from Asgore and Toriel is less of a ‘loan’ and more of a ‘payment for services rendered.’ He’s a cleaner, the guy you call to make things go away, things that aren’t supposed to be there: stains, papers, weapons, evidence... He’ll get rid of it for you, and if you need a convincing coverup or an alibi for...whatever it is that you weren’t there doing, he’ll take care of that, too. If somebody’s calling him up for his special brand of help, they probably just want to put it all behind them and forget all about that nasty business. He’s happy to facilitate--after all, what are friends for?)

Aster (Gastertale Papyrus): Like his brother, he gets on well with the King and Queen. (They both feel like they’ve known the monarchs much longer than they actually have...somehow...) But in any case, unlike his brother, Aster is very well-organized and thoughtful, so he’s a natural choice as an...advisor, of sorts, when monsters surfaced and it was...decided that perhaps there would be some...activities and...ways of doing things that...should remain unknown to the humans. Not unknown to Aster: he keeps track of everything, reminding the monarchs of little details they may have forgotten, pointing out things they may not have noticed, making educated suggestions for courses of action with likely positive outcomes based on past experiences... He’s the linchpin between Asgore and Toriel that makes them terrifyingly more efficient than they would be without him, a consigliere-equivalent who certainly isn’t a boss himself, but he has the bosses’ trust and their ears and that makes him a person of great interest. But...no one can get anything useful out of him: he’s loyal, above all, and much as he values truth, he also realizes that perhaps not everyone deserves to know the full truth of everything, especially not those who might use that truth to bring some sort of harm or misfortune to his friends...or to monsterkind at large. ...And trying to directly seize his extensive notes on the private and personal business-doings of the Dreemurrs is an even more doomed endeavor--he writes them all in a strange jumble of symbols that no one’s ever seen, and the code-breakers never have it long enough to decipher anything useful before its back in his hands, reclaimed quite speedily after unlawful seizure of private property containing confidential information. Lots of well-meaning law enforcement have their sights set on him as some sort of criminal white whale, but the simile is all too accurate-- they’ll never catch him, and even if they do, there’ll be nothing to hold him on. He simply has too many friends (and family members) in very high, very useful places.

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doubleshotofsomething · 3 years

Text

To Hell & Back

Part Three: “I don’t scare you and I guess that’s why”

Summary: You attempts at payback keep getting ruined. Somehow, you keep needing the same idiot you hate.

Prompt: “I don’t want to live on this planet anymore.”

Warnings: Swearing. [Also typos, probably. Which shall be repaired by tomorrow]

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

---

Series Masterlist [in case you missed the other ones]

----

"Good morning-" your customer service smile widens just a smidge, "-what can I get ya?"

Bucky narrows his eyes, lips tightening into a thin line as he looks over you. Even with the counter between you and the little fluff in his hand, he still manages to look intimidating.

You're trying your best to not show how much the sight of him, angry and inconvenienced, pleases you. It's a mission, but you keep your professional façade intact.

"I'm going to throw you off the roof." He growls, adjusting his arm as he glares at you. "Then I'm gonna dance on your grave."

"That doesn't sound familiar," you say coyly, tilting your head to the side. "Is that some kind of latte?"

There is a line forming behind him and your co-workers are you giving the both of you side-eyes. Bucky doesn't seem to care, his blue eyes flashing with what you can only hope is anger. You don't care either, you warned him and he didn't listen.

"You took my parking space-" he dumps the white fluff onto the counter between you. "-my fucking parking space."

You shrug. "You made me drink filter coffee."

He glowers. "That justifies your actions?"

"Filter," you emphasize, gently nudging the little fur ball towards him. "Filter fucking coffee, Barnes. Do you know what that shit does to a person?"

You can hear one of your co-workers mumble an "oh, here we go" and you shoot them a glare. Turning back to the mammoth in front of you, you nudge his gift back to him.

"Excuse me-" Bucky turns around, giving you a clear view of the old man behind him. "-some of us have things to do. Can you two hurry the fuck up?"

You both blink at the man, completely unfazed, then turn back to each other. He shoves the cat back to you and it lets out a disgruntled out.

"Take your cat and go home," you gently push it back to him.

"I don't have a cat." He pushes it back.

"Your parking space disagrees." You pick it up and put it in his arms.

He narrows his eyes, holding the cat. "That was just cruel, even for you, doll."

"Not a doll."

"I will be taking your parking space."

"I don't have one-" you grin. "-no car, no space. Also, you can't prove I took your parking space."

His nostrils flare. "Who else would put this-" he gestures to the furball clinging onto him, "-in a box and put it where my bike is supposed to be?!"

You blink at him. Once. Twice. Then frown. "Wait, why do you have a car and a bike?"

"Seriously?"

You nod. "Yeah, I keep forgetting to ask you about that-"

"Sweetheart, I'm going to drop you off in Australia after this-" your heart nearly plummets at the thought and you glare at him. "-and that's your concern, right now? The car and the bike?"

You don't question why or how he knows Australia is on your list of murder sites. You also don't question why the way he just called you sweetheart makes you want things you shouldn't.

You're about to respond, something snarky that will piss him off even more, when the same guy interrupts again.

"Hey!" He rounds and stands next to Bucky, glaring you both down. "Listen, I didn't beat morning traffic for some coffee only to have some gym buff flirt up the cashier."

Bucky's eyebrows shoot up. He tries to blink back the shock, but he can't.

Flirt? With you? He could never disrespect you like that. Not at your job. Never like this.

You have worked with, and for, people like that for the longest of time. So you're not surprised by the tantrum the man throws.

However, you're running low on patience at the moment.

"Sir-"you glare at the man, "-this man, right here, is a war hero. A veteran. The reason half the world is back. You owe your life to him. So if you're gonna be an asshole-"

Bucky cuts in. "Doll, it's oka-"

"Shut your trap, Barnes!" You hiss at him, before turning back to the man. "If you're gonna be an asshole and accuse him of flirting with me, then call him Sergeant - not gym buff. Now, get the fuck out of my shop before I have him throw you out!"

The man sputters, random words flying out of his mouth as he scrambles to form a sentence. Bucky grimaces at the sight and turns back to you.

"That wasn't necessary-"

"He called me a cashier."

He pauses, then nods. You were a barista first, manager second - you worked far too hard on that promotion to be demoted publicly by an asshole - and spiteful third.

You would rather let your neighbour call you Doll, than let a stranger assume your job title.

"Fair point. I'll take a coffee while I wait for you-"

You slit your eyes. "What kind of coffee, Barnes?" You grit the words out.

It's not a question, it's a warning. One he blatantly ignores as he adjusts the kitten in his arm.

He gives you a smile, the most innocent smile you've ever seen on that face of his. And that's saying a lot, you've seen all his smile and none of them are this deceiving.

A pit forms in your stomach at the glint in his eyes. Utter betrayal.

"I swear to god, if you say filter-"

"Decaf." He cuts you off, a sweet smile on his face. "I'll take decaf."

---

You had wiped down the counter three times, before finishing with your queue. Then took over making the drinks, while everyone else worked the registers.

If Bucky wasn't sure that you were making him wait on purpose, the fact that you let everyone else take their breaks first was confirmation enough.

Once you were sure he had been stewing for long enough, you took your fifteen minutes.

With a bottle of water and an empty ice cream cup, you move to the little corner booth in the back. Bucky leans back, eyeing your hands, as you approach.

"That's all you're gonna eat?" Is his question as you sit down.

"Not for me," you pour water into the cup and nudge it towards him. "It's for your new friend. Or roommate. Or whatever it is you called 'em back in the day."

He rolls his eyes, gently picking up the cat from his lap and placing it on the table. He nudges the water closer to cat.

"Now," you fold your arms on the table and rest your chin on them, watching the little thing make it's way to the water. "Tell me more about this fuzzball."

Bucky frowns and shifts slightly in his chair, slowly analysing you. You don't notice, too busy focused on the cat that shouldn't be in the shop.

For a moment, you have this wondrous look in your eye as you watch. It's there for a short moment, then it's gone. He wants it back. In your eyes, where it should always be.

You chance a look at him. "The cat?"

"Why aren't you eating?" He counters. "Isn't it your break?"

"No, it's not for another three hours." You straighten in your seat. "This is just a breather, so use it wisely."

"Okay, then what will you be eating in three hours?"

You sigh, folding your arms and leaning in your seat. "Are you asking me out for lunch, Barnes?"

He bristles. Not because of the question, but the use of his last name. He prefers Bucky, you know he does, but he's gotten so accustomed to you calling him anything other than Bucky that it worries him.

"No," he states.

Not lunch. That's not enough time, it's never enough time.

Dinner. That's a definite. Nights are longer, and you don't have to rush back to work after. It's not enough time either, but it's a gateway to breakfast. So, not lunch. Never lunch.

"Then?" You raise an eyebrow.

He retaliates by raising his. "Will you be eating lunch or working through it?"

You stare at him, eyes flicking between both blues. He stares back, something you've noticed he's good at. And knowing that stirs something inside you, something you wish you could drown.

"Yes, Barnes-" you sigh. "-I will be eating lunch."

"Good."

"I always figured Blondilocks was the mom friend of your death squad. Guess I was wrong."

Blondilocks is a nickname you reserved for Steve. It used to piss him off, but now he realises how fitting it is.

He chooses to ignore your remark. "Now, let's talk about the parking space and the cat."

"I'm innocent."

"No, you're not." He glares. "You threatened to take my parking space and now you took it."

"I plead the fifth."

"And you involved a cat. What am I supposed to do with a cat?"

"I want a lawy–" you pause, his words seeming to echo in your head. You sit up and place your hands on the table. "–wait a minute. What did I do with what cat?"

Bucky points at the kitten laying on the table. You're not seated by a window, but the rays of sunlight still reach your table – much to the furball's delight.

"The cat in my parking space." He says it like you're supposed to know what he's talking about.

Which is both amusing and upsetting, because you don't.

You blink at him. "I didn't put a cat in your parking space."

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't. I put something else in the parking space–" you claim, your mind flashing with the images of plates of tampon-stuffed jelly that you placed on his parking space. "–but not a living creature. I'd never abandon a living, breathing thing in a basement parking lot for payback. I'm pretty sure that's illegal."

It's Bucky's turn to be confused. The only reason he was there, at your work, was because he tried to park his car – only to find a large box in the middle of his parking spot. Inside the box, was a small pillow and bowl of milk, next to what looked like a small, white fluffy tennis ball.

He thought it was you. It made sense. The thing inconvenienced him, like something you would make sure to do. And it was added responsibility that you knew he never wanted. So, of course he thought it was you. It had to be.

"Wait, so all you found was a cat?" You frown, clearly annoyed at that little fact.

Bucky nods slowly, confused that it wasn't you. Who else could it be, if not you?

You huff. "So... You didn't get my surprise gift to you? At all?"

"There was a cat," he explains again. "In a box. That's it."

"Now that's just fucking disrespectful!" You're beyond pissed now. "I spent the entire night on those dishes."

"No need to be dramati–"

"Barnes–" you flash your eyes at him, picking up the table's salt shaker and pointing it at him. "I will use this."

His eyes narrow. "I'm not a demon–"

"I," your eyes narrow further, "will use this."

---

There's banging on your door. Loud and insistent. You don't need to ask, to know who it is.

You're also very, very aware of the fact that your mother somehow got a copy of your keys. You called her out on it, one Saturday Session, gross invasion of privacy was the term you used.

Somehow, those words twisted into something far more sinister and you left your childhood home feeling worse than you did when you walked in.

You hated those five years. Watching your mother mourn both your sister and father did things to you, things no one should ever have to go through. But watching your sister's husband – a man you used to respect – turn into everything you hate, that had to have been the worst of it all.

You hated those five years, you hated the Avengers for not winning too. But now, with everyone back, you wish they'd lost again.

"Psst," you're on your balcony, hoping your neighbour's super serum gave him superhearing. "Barnes."

You slipped out the glass door the moment you heard a key being slipped into your front door locks. You guess your mother is either with your sister, or she gave her a copy of your keys. You made sure to close it on your way out, and hid out of sight.

"Barnes," you whisper again, "Barnes, open up. I will freeze to death out here."

A soft click sounds, followed by your neighbour's glass door opening a fraction. He sticks his head out, a frown on his face as he eyes you.

"Wha–" he inspects your attire, the only light coming from a street pole a few blocks away. "–why aren't you wearing pants?"

You stick your hand out, wiggling your fingers at him. "I will cat sit for you, if you can hide me."

The barrier, a makeshift fence, between your balconies reaches his waist in height. But you have no upper body strength so pulling yourself over it will lead to a disaster, and the amount of noise that will expose your hiding place.

Sighing, he steps out onto the balcony and gently shuts the door behind him. It takes you moment to realise he's shirtless, and in sweatpants, then another to realise you've never seen him shirtless and in sweatpants.

You're staring. Gawking. And it's shameful, but you can't seem to pull yourself together.

It's unsettling for him, the way you're looking at him. He clears his throat but you don't seem to hear it, too far in your own mind apparently.

Your hand, the one you'd held out for him, slowly lowers to the railing and you blink. The cold air nips at your skin and you have to force yourself to look up at his eyes.

Big mistake. You think as your breath hitches, he looks like he wants to throw you off the roof, but your heart flutters a bit at the sight of his little pout.

The corner of your lips twitch. "Sorry, I didn't mean to," you begin, "you just... You do look like a gym buff in those pants."

He glares. "You gonna stare all night or what?"

You wish you could find that little part of you that wants to say yes, just so you could throw her off that balcony.

This time, you lift both your arms up and pout. "Or what."

Gentle hands grip your waist, warm and cold, and hoist you over the railing. Bucky gently sets you down, your mismatched socks barely warming your feet against the cold metal.

"This is the weirdest booty call I've ever had," you muse, trying to keep your mind off of his hands on you.

He scoffs, taking a step back. "Pretty sure that's my line, Doll–"

"–not a Doll."

"–and I'm pretty sure this is more of a home invasion, than a booty call."

"You would know."

Sighing, he squeezed passed you to open the door. "Ladies first."

You curtsey and practically leap inside when you catch a glimpse of your glass door opening. A sharp pain slices through your arm as you land on your side.

Bucky is about to rush in, to ask if you're alright, to see if you've actually lost the remainder of your mind. Because you must have.

"Oh."

He shivers, in the worst way, at the sound of your sister's voice and is forced to abandon all thoughts of checking on you. Schooling his face takes priority now.

He turns around, grimacing slightly at her shocked expression. "Hey."

"Uh-uh–" she stammers, eyes that match yours scanning every inch of him as she does. "–uh-uh-"

Nodding, he sighs. "Yeah, sorry–" she's not the first to react like this. He's just glad that your staring didn't result in that. "–I came out for some fresh air. I should've known someone would think to do the same."

Your sister's gaping only seizes when her husband's voice echoes from your apartment. Of course she'd bring her husband.

"Oh," the asshole repeats, stepping out onto the balcony. "Hey, man. What's up?"

Bucky shrugs, forcing a smile. "I didn't know you guys were over. Woulda stopped by and said hi, if I knew."

"Oh," your sister lets a nervous laugh, waving the thought away. "No, no. We were just in the area and wanted to stop by. Ya know, check on her."

Bullshit.

They came because of the poisoned muffins.

Bucky doesn't need to force the smile anymore. "Oh, that's great. How is she?"

This is probably the first time they've managed to leave their place. Or else they would have been there earlier in the week.

The asshole shrugs. "I hope we didn't make dinner uncomfortable for you on Saturday," he adds instead. "We really enjoyed your company."

"Hmm." Bucky nods, still smiling. Near grinning now. By the third twitch of lips, he knows he has to get back inside before it's too late. "Well, goodnight."

He thought the torture was when he had to walk back, slowly, into his own place without breaking down. Then closing the door at a slow pace, as not to give anything away.

But as soon as he turned around, as soon as he saw you sitting on the floor, on his impromptu bed. Legs criss-cross, kitten by your feet, and cup of coffee in your hands. Everything changed.

"Helped myself to some coffee," you whisper, cradling the cup closer to your lips.

Torture would be the following night, and the nights after that. Where he would walk into his apartment, and not find you there – like this.

"Fuck."

----

TAGS :D : @sunflowerxbarnes , @ginger-swag-rapunzel , @arctic-duchess , @sltwins , @thewayilookatbacon , @buckyisperfect , @paryl

#Bex's 1.5K Meme Challenge #Bucky Barnes #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #reader insert #x you #x reader #neighbour!bucky #neighbours au #enemiestolovers au #marvel challenge #bucky fic #mcu x reader #to hell and back #Part 3 #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky x y/n

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gladerwolfstarkimagines · 4 years

Text

Tea Shop Part One - Zuko x female reader series

Imagine being an air acolyte searching for the avatar in Ba Sing Sei and instead finding yourself working beside the dragon of the west and the banished prince of the fire nation, but of course you know them as Mushi and Lee. From the start you and Zuko clash, you hate his angry rude attitude and he hates how often you call him out on his poor behaviour. Your dislike grows until it’s almost unbearable and then his life is suddenly placed in your hands. After that and things change...

Part two here

Part three here

Part four here

(Note, in the readers view Zuko = Lee and Iroh = Mushi but when it’s from Zuko’s or Iroh’s pov they will be Zuko and Iroh. Hope that’s not too confusing!

Prologue: You were descended from air benders and were one of the last air aceloytes in the world. Your family was not in the air nation when the fire nation attacked a century ago, by luck your grandfather was in Omashu. When he heard the news he was devastated but crippled with fear he stayed and hid in the Earth kingdom. He married your grandmother and tried to assimilate into the earth kingdom. Your grandparents were terrified of the fire nation and therefore keeping the air nation traditions alive was not something they were focused on. So by the time you were born only your Uncle Pathik made an effort to keep the air nation traditions alive, even becoming a monk to devote himself to the cause. Your family was under the belief if they kept quiet the fire nation wouldn’t find them but of course they did. The fire nation arrested your family for the suspicion of practicing air bending, despite the fact none of you could actual airbend. The association enough was worth a life long imprisonment and so your family we’re shipped away to the deepest prison known. Your father managed to smuggle you out of the city but he wasn’t so lucky. You were devestated but after your escape headed to the only family you had left, your eccentric uncle’s home at the eastern air temple. You managed to avoid warrants for your arrest with shows of earth bending, a skill inhertited by your grandmother. Fire nation guards couldn’t comprehend someone being an air aceloyte and an earth bender and so the gift saved your life. You finally tracked down your uncle and decided that day to dedicate yourself to the air nation in spite of the fire nation. They’d taken your family but they wouldn’t take your culture. You asked your uncle to teach you all he knew and worked hard to become an air acolyte like your grandfather. It all seemed pointless, you and your uncle against the whole fire nation and then you heard the avatar was back. You made it your mission to find him and help him rebuild the air nation. You told your uncle your plan and he told you to go to Ba Sing Sei, always allusuive, he told you nothing more than you’d find what you needed there and so you set off. You expected to find the avatar quickly but had been there a whole year with no sign of him. You we’re giving up hope you’d ever find him and you’d be stuck working as a waitress in the lower ring forever when two new staff members changed that.

Your POV

You showed up for your shift at the tea shop to find your boss had finally hired some more staff. You were thrilled and eyed the two newcomers with interest as your boss discussed the basic tasks with them while you ran the tea shop, eventually the tour brought them to you and you were introduced. "This is my main waitress" your boss said to the two men "y/n these are your two new coworkers". You nodded looking them over, the older man smiled at you but the younger one stared at the ground, or more accurately glared. He definitely did not seem pleased to be here. "Nice to meet you" you offered and the old man smiled and told you his name. You looked to the younger one expectantly and the man nudged him. "’I’m Lee" he replied flatly barely glancing at you. “Well welcome” you smiled and Mushi smiled at you but the boy, Lee, didn’t even look at you. “Now on with the tour” your boss cried and you watched Mushi talk to him while Lee sulked. Great your new co-worker was a pouty angry teenager. He’d be fun to work with.

1 week later

Your prediction was true, you were an easy going person who could usually get along with anyone...expect this new boy. The boy was miserable and moody. He was inconsiderate and obviously didn’t work well in teams. His customer service poor and his tea making skills only just adequate. The fact he was so rude prompted you to mess with him, rude people were fair game as far as you were concerned and so you made sure not to help him. If the waiter couldn’t show common courtesy than neither would you. This resulted in a lot of shared glares and bickering between the two of you. You knew it went against your air nomad roots to pick on people but when the person was a moody rude immature man who never got your name right, surely the monks saw that as an exception right?

You arrived at the tea shop for your afternoon shift and saw Lee was leaving. That was nice. Things between you had gotten worse over the past week and shifts with him were almost unbareable. Being mean didn’t come naturally to you but something about this man made your blood boil. Lee noticed you come into the shop and held out an apron to you. Suprised you went to take it when he dropped it on the floor with a laugh. You rolled your eyes at him and snatched it up off the floor. Lee smirked and you glared. You watched him place his belongings on the counter as he prepared to leave, something you’d told him not to do many times as it wasn’t sanitary and got an idea. A glass of water was also on the counter and you smirked, because your manager was such a cheapskate the counter was made of earth. You flicked your hand and knocked the glass over onto Lee’s stuff. Lee cried out and groaned as it soaked his bag and coat. Lee looked around and caught you smiling. “You....” he started when Mushi appeared “y/n I need three jasmine teas”. You nodded “on it” and grinned at Lee’s angry glare that was glued to you as you walked past him.

Iroh’s POV

Iroh noticed Zuko pouting about something and paused as you left to go make the tea like he’d asked. Zuko was angrily shaking his jacket and Iroh frowned “Lee are you...”. “She! She is the worst! Did you see what she just did to me” Zuko cried holding his bag out to Iroh who frowned. The bag had a tiny wet stain. “Ow yes this is very serious...the sun might not even dry it before you reach home!” Iroh cried. Zuko rolled his eyes “y/n did this! Did you know she’s an earth bender?”. “No but we are in the greatest earth city in the world...it’s not suprising”. “She can’t treat me like that” Zuko carried on ignoring Iroh’s comment “she can’t get away with this, who does she think she is?”. “Hasn’t she told you numerous times not to put your stuff on the counter?”. “She...I don’t know! I don’t listen to her! She’s always telling me how to do stuff like i’m a...”. “New employee?” Iroh asked with a smile and Zuko scoffed. “This is ridiculous i’m sick of this” and he stormed from the tea shop. Iroh laughed and glanced to where you stood serving customers, you’d certainly gotten under his nephew’s skin and it was entertaining if nothing else.

Your POV

When the afternoon rush finally died down you got a chance to chat to Mushi. Thank god he was nothing like his nephew, there was a down side though. Despite not be liked him he loved talking about his nephew and seemed to constantly mention him to you, like today. “Y/n do you think you’d be able to work the late shift with me tomorrow night?" he asked "it was supposed to be Lee’s shift but he has a date". "Really?" you asked more than fairly suprised, "is it that girl who’s always in here?". Mushi nodded "yes!" and you laughed "i knew it! She asked for Lee to serve her even though his waiter skills are awful!". Mushi laughed "love is blind, she’s hopefully seen past his moody exterior to the man he is beneath” Mushi smiled at you but his hint went right over your head. "I can cover his shift" you agreed and Mushi grinned "Thank you y/n!". You told him it was fine and smirked, just the idea of Lee on a date was enough to make you laugh.

2 days later

You probably shouldn’t have offered to work that late shift for Mushi when you were opening in the morning too but you needed the money so you dragged yourself out of bed way earlier than you would’ve liked. The idea of teasing Lee about his date motivating you and when you saw him waiting outside the tea shop you smirked. "Morning" you called loudly making him jump. He swore and you smirked unlocking the door. "It’s your shift?” he complained “why are you always here?". "Because i work here idiot" you said going to roll your eyes before you calmed yourself, Lee wouldn’t ruin your good mood...or stop you teasing him about his night out. "So how was the date?" you asked smirking. Lee didn’t look at you, he didn’t even show he’d so much as heard you. It made him so much harder to annoy when he didn’t respond so you tried again. "Hey i covered for you I expect some payment" you informed him but he just shrugged "i didn’t ask you to cover for me". "Yeah but i was still the person who did so you could run around on a date" you said annoyed. The man always managed to do this, you’d start messing with him and come off angrier than him somehow. Lee only shrugged "not my problem" and you glared. Your good mood was slipping.

All day Lee’s attitude annoyed you more and more. He was in a worse mood than ever and it showed. He was rude to customers, he mixed up orders and refused to correct them, he spoke back to you when you were only trying to help him. So by the end of your shift you were ready to strangle him. When Mushi and another worker showed up to relieve you, a sigh of relief escaped without you even realising. You let all your anger go, prepared to move...and then you turned around and tripped over the rubbish bag you’d asked Lee to take out 3 times. From your crumpled position of the floor you spotted him already ready to leave and your anger flared back up. You marched to him and pressed the bag into him “here”. “Why would I want this?” he asked and you glared “it’s the rubbish you forgot to take out”. “I didn’t forget I just didn’t want to” he shrugged and you twitched. “Wow that’s a great attitude, take it outside now”. “No, you’re not my boss, you can’t tell me what to do”. He opened the back door and sauntered out and you followed him seeing red. You threw the bag at him hitting him on the shoulder and let out an angry groan. “What’s your problem?” you cried. “What’s your problem” Lee replied squaring up to you but you wouldn’t back down. “My problem is you’re an awful waiter and an intolerable human”. “Wow that hurts me so much” Lee said sarcastically and you balled your fists. “What is wrong with you?” you called “nobodies making you work here, if it’s so awful find another job! It’s not my fault you’re miserable all the time so stop acting like it is!" you yelled "you’re mad at the world? Well get in line! Nothing gets better by you acting like a jerk but if you hate it here so much leave!" and you slammed the door in his face.

Later that day

Your day hadn’t gotten much better as it went on but the end was finally in sight. You'd just finished your shift at a nearby restaurant you also worked at when you noticed two men fighting. You frowned but turned the other way. Sure it wasn’t the noble thing to do but you'd learnt to only seek trouble in certain situations and in back alleys at night was not one of those moments. The trouble apparently didn’t want to leave you alone however and you heard sounds telling you the fighting was following you. Suddenly one of them crashed past you, the other following with a sword. You glared and then gaped to see Lee was one of the men fighting. It didn't suprise you he’d be in a street fight but to be fair he seemed to be the one getting attacked. Shocked you watched, impressed by how skilled the two men were. Lee was obviously not a tea maker and according to the other guy he was actually a fire bender.

The man managed to disarm Lee and he smirked. "you’re defence less, you’ll have to firebend to stop me doing this" and swept his sword towards Lee. Lee closed his eyes unable to get out of his grip and just accepted the swing. You couldn't. Call it the airbender roots in you but you wouldn’t watch senseless violence and just do nothing, even for someone as annoying as Lee. "No" you shouted and sent a rock hurtling towards the man. You knocked him off Lee and stepped forwards "leave him alone". "Who’s this your body guard?" the boy asked and you raised an eyebrow "actually i’m a waitress". Lee stood beside you and you both faced the attacker when you heard yelling. Suddenly two Dai Li agents arrived and looked between you and Lee to the boy. "What’s going on here?" they asked and you turned to them. You’d gotten pretty good at maniuplating the authorities in your hidden life so knew how to play the Dai Li. “Officers thank god you’re here! This man attacked me and my friend for no reason, he was going to hurt him so i had to earth bend! I didn’t mean to hurt anyone I swear". "She’s right" a man who’d been watching called and the Dai Li fixed their eyes on the other boy. He tried to resist but they forced him into a cart and it disappeared down the road. "I’m sorry this happened to you" the agent told you and Lee "please go on and enjoy your night". You and Lee nodded and turned to walk away, when you were out of ear shot Lee spoke. "You didn’t have to help me" he started and you rolled your eyes sick of this and started to walk away. "No!" he said catching you up "i didn’t mean it like that, i just meant...after today i figured you hated me". "I don’t hate anyone" you replied "but you come pretty close sometimes". You thought his mouth almost curved into a smile and he nodded. "What were you doing out here?" he asked "and are you in a uniform". "I work at a restaurant near here" you explained. "You have two jobs?". "Three" you said embarassed "rent’s hard". Lee nodded his head down and you were pleased he didn’t give you sympathy. "I’m not you know" he said suddenly and you frowned “what?”. “A firebender...i’m not one" he clarified. "I wouldn’t care if you are" you shrugged and Lee frowned "really i assumed because of your..." and he trailed off. "Because of my what?" you asked turning to face him and Lee paled. He looked to your arm without meaning to and you knew he’d seen the scar that lay there. "i didn’t mean to, your sleeve was pushed up the other day..." he rushed to explain reading your expression "’i’m sorry for mentioning it". You touched your arm self consciously, the place where your burn crisscrossed it and frowned. A fire nation solider had give it you on your trip to the eastern air temple, he was annoyed your earth bending proved you couldn’t be the run away air acolyte and so he burned you as punishment. "It’s okay" you said after a while "but no it doesn’t change things, i don’t blame all firebenders just because one burnt me". Lee looked shocked at that and you got a feeling he didn’t have that same view about the person who burnt him. "It doesn’t matter to me if you're a fire bender or the earth king himself, we’re all just human". Lee paused suprised to hear you say something so philosophical and nodded. "’I’m sorry, for earlier not this" he said softly "i have been...difficult". "Just difficult?" you asked and he shot you a glare. "Sorry...you were saying?". He sighed and glanced back at you "i’m working on my anger" he told you "i’ll try and be less of a jerk". "I’ll believe it when i see it" you replied but smirked to let him know you were joking.

You walked the rest of the way in silence and reached the tea house quickly. Mushi was cleaning up damage that must’ve been caused by the fight but dropped his broom when he saw Lee. “Z..Lee you’re okay” he cried rushing over “what happened?”. “It was fine, y/n helped me and Jet was arrested”. “You helped him?” Mushi asked smiling between you both and you and Lee rolled your eyes simultaneously. “It was nothing” you said quickly “i’d have done it for anyone”. You thought Lee’s eyes narrowed at that comment and so quickly added “but i’m glad you’re okay”. Lee looked at you suprised but nodded “thanks”. You nodded awkwardly and turned “so i’ll be going home, see you guys tomorrow”. “Bye y/n and thanks again” Mushi called after you.

Zuko and Iroh’s POV

As soon as you were gone Iroh smirked at Zuko “so...the two of you seem to have bonded”. “Don’t” Zuko replied pushing past him. Iroh’s smirk grew as he noticed the slight blush on his nephews cheek, he knew he’d sensed chemistry there. Thank god the two of you finally were realising it too.

____

I made a new Zuko series! I always love how angsty and stroppy season 2 Zuko was so thought I’d write a series around that. Hope you like it!!!

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secretshinigami · 3 years

Text

strike to incinerate

Author: @jeevas-exe (ghoulhunt on ao3) For: @jam-knife Pairing/Characters: Light Yagami, B, L Lawliet Rating/Warnings: T, major character death Prompt: Light and B join forces to bring L down. How does that work out? Your choice to make it Blight or keep it platonic Author’s notes: I had SO much fun writing this piece! It was new and experimental for me to write in this style, but it was lots of fun going back and forth between perspectives and time. The biggest thing was consistency. Happy reading, I hope you enjoy! <3

—

It’s close to midnight and the cars seem to be zooming by.

Adrenaline runs through B’s veins. Riding down the highway going upwards of eighty, ninety miles an hour, weaving between traffic, cutting other drivers off and getting honked at. Travel, travel, travel, his days and nights, following, trying to catch up to the black Mercedes with the blacked-out windows ahead of him. Wind whips by, caressing the parts of his body not covered in leather.

It’s cold.

There’s a sound. A shot. Shit, he thinks. He hopes it’s someone’s exhaust backfiring. There’s too many people around for this. The Mercedes zooms across six lanes of traffic, taking the closest exit. Trying to lose him.

He follows. He weaves between traffic on his bike, getting to the car, and he sees the other man leaning outside the window with a gun drawn, pointing in his direction. B grips his own, tight in his hand. He can see his steely grey eyes as he approaches, or maybe that’s just another memory.

B shoots.

The man slumps. Lifeless.

There are lights behind him, red and blue.

The day Light Yagami meets him, he’s wearing the watch his father gave him.

It’s still on Japanese time, where it shows it’s about four in the morning, there. Here, it’s noon. He yawns. He’s restless and jet-lagged, making his way through the customs and the terminal and baggage until he’s out the door and headed to the address he was given.

5512 Highland Park.

The cab he climbed into forty minutes prior parks along the sidewalk of a rundown street. Apartments and small houses with chain-link fences dot the opposite side of the road; where he’s pulled up, a neon sign hangs, buzzing, the lights flickering and not really noticeable in the LA sun. Light notices the peeling, yellowing paint on the outside, the dead flowers in the flowerbeds, the rusted hinges of the dark green door; apparently, the only new renovation that Maple’s Bar & Grille has made in the past who-knows-how-long.

Light looks at his watch. The time ticks away. He pays the cabbie, walks through the squeaking door and up the small step, and is quickly greeted by a waitress, who tells him to take a seat wherever.

He spots him.

In the booth off to the side, sipping on a Shirley Temple, with a coke on the side. A brown-haired, flannel-donning fellow staring down at the newspaper. Light can’t discern what the headline says from here, but the photo shows the destruction of a building. It’s from the L.A. Times. It doesn’t matter, he thinks. Light slides across from him in the booth.

“Hello. Light Yagami.” He extends a hand. The American way.

The man lifts his head. Takes a sip from the glass of sugar he drinks. His eyes bore into Light’s soul, unsettling him, deep in his core, not acknowledging his hand whatsoever. Light retracts it.

“I’ve been waiting quite a while, you know.”

Light blinks. He looks away, tearing his gaze from the man sitting opposite him. He looks down at the menu on the sticky table. “The cab driver didn’t know where this place was.”

“No? This is one of the more popular places around here.” The man looks at the bar, towards a bunch of drunk men, off of work and watching a game on the TV in the upper corner of the room. They don’t even notice them in the booth. Good, he thinks. They don’t need attention. “Call me B.”

B is handcuffed. B is sitting in a chair, alone in a cell, with cement walls and cement floors and fluorescent lights that sting his tired eyes. They buzz. The sound is drowned out by people walking in and out of the jail, police talking, drunk people and others mumbling to themselves.

He knows why he’s here. It replays in his head, over and over. The sound of gunshots, the squeal of tires, the sound of sirens, so many of them, blaring out along the highway. His ears seem to ring despite the hours that have passed.

This is temporary. Soon, he knows, he’ll be back to square one.

Was it worth it?

Light and B meet up everyday for the next few days. It’s always the same restaurant, and the same booth, with varying waitresses, the same water, and the same man sat across from him. Papers have started making their way onto the booth. B looks at them with an intensity Light hasn’t seen before, other than in one person.

The one person they’re trying to take down.

“What’s your connection to him, anyway?” Light asks at this meeting, because for all he knows, this could be as impersonal as flicking one’s cigarette ashes on the floor. He watches B do this as he takes a sip off his water.

“Oh, that’s a little personal, isn’t it? Let’s just say we grew up together.” B replies.

Light feels a jolt go through him; he didn’t know this. Not the specifics, at least. Proof of his name was enough to go through with this arrangement. “You grew up together? Then why are you doing this?”

“That’s really none of your business,” he snaps. “You’re paying me for a service. Be grateful it’s on the table.”

Which, Light supposes, is fair. He looks down at the newspaper in front of him, its headline emblazoned on the front cover:

L IN CONNECTION WITH INTERPOL; CRACKDOWN ON KIRA GROUP COMING.

L Lawliet.

B hadn’t heard the name in years. Rather, he chose to ignore it, because seeing it now and again in the newspapers or on tv really didn’t help his case.

Too many years were spent left alone in that house. And then, alone in L.A., and then, around the world. And now, sitting in a cell, he counts on his fingers how many times he’s spent his days alone, thinking about him, and thinking about all the fucked up things that led to this point.

He continues to wonder if it was worth it. He wonders if things could have been different, if L had just listened to him, had stayed, and had not pretended that B just didn’t exist after everything that happened in the house.

L is dead.

L is dead because of him. No longer is the World’s Greatest Detective but a corpse in the ground; and here he is, stuck in prison for it, because everyone knows he did it. They saw it. At least, everyone who knew who L really was knew it was him. He hasn’t seen the news at all, and probably won’t. He hopes to God, or the Devil, or any other force out there that can hear him, that L–or his place–doesn’t happen again.

Light Yagami has his ducks in a row.

As a part-time investigator himself, he’s learned to always be one step ahead of the game. He’s learned to pay attention to his surroundings, to organize his thoughts before he speaks, to look at things from all sides. L got involved in the Kira Group case alongside him and the rest of the department he was working in, over in Japan. The L. The one that’s solved countless crimes around the world, some of the hardest, all under a pseudonym. For him to get involved meant he had his suspicions, and he knew where to look; in the very place where the police weren’t looking.

Light Yagami has played his cards right; working with groups like Yotsuba and third-parties, such as The Shinigami. Working between them, they’ve obtained quite a bit of money–here and there, of course, and Light turns a blind eye to the way the money is obtained. He’s only in control of how and where the money goes, of course. The rest is up to Ryuk, to gain it, while the accounts are hidden between Yotsuba’s various company expenses and profits. It works. So much, in fact, that they were able to transfer billions upon billions within a matter of months.

He isn’t sure what caught L’s eye. Maybe it was a fuck up on Ryuk’s part, or something between Yotsuba, or maybe it was the sudden influx of profit and stocks and the company doing “well” on an international level. Maybe that was it. Light wouldn’t be surprised.

Light isn’t greedy.

Light is, simply, bored.

It was never his intention to get L onto this case, but it makes for extra fun, he supposes. Doubling and tripling and quadrupling the work he usually does for the Kira Group, all for the sake of laughs, while dollar bills light up in the other’s eyes. And he knows he won’t be caught until L can connect him to any of these groups, which he never will.

Let him have his suspicions. Light knows he’ll get off scot-free.

B remembers the first time he met L.

It was summer, and he was just a kid. Small, maybe around ten, tired from the flight, gripping balling his fists into the sleeves of his shirt. Summer here was colder than home. The mansion was somehow even colder.

It was nighttime. B doesn’t remember the exact time, but he was hungry. He didn’t go down for dinner; instead, he sat at his bed, looking at his minimal belongings. This was his room, now. This was his new home, but it didn’t feel like it. Nothing felt right. Not the windows, not the furniture, not the smell. It was unsettling, being here; like his whole life had been uprooted.

It had, but not because of the change in home.

He refused to think about it. Instead, B trotted out of his room, trying to be as quiet as possible. It was past curfew, and he didn’t want to get in trouble on his very first day. His stomach growled, but he didn’t know where the kitchen was; it wasn’t shown to him on his little tour around the house. He assumed it was past the dining room, somewhere downstairs, and after a little bit of wandering, he found it.

He found another boy there, too. With the man who had picked him up and showed him around. Maybe he was also new. He was eating dinner, soup, at a small table. The elder man smiled; he ladled another bowl for B, setting it across from the other boy.

Despite how unsettling the day had been, it was comforting. It could be home.

Things weren’t supposed to end up like this.

Light can feel L on his heels. He’s uncomfortably close to the end of this, and it’s suffocating. And thrilling. Scary, but electrifying; being in the same room as him, knowing what he knows, but knowing there’s nothing he can do about it just yet.

L knows of The Shinigami Group. He’s asked about Ryuk, and has started researching who he is. There’s only so long until contact is made, and Light knows his connection is fairly solid, but not enough; if Ryuk goes down, so does he, and so does Yotsuba. He needs to do something. Anything.

Contact with B is a blessing in disguise. He doesn’t know who this B person is, but he claims to know L. He knows enough information that catches Light’s eye; details about his aliases, specific cases, his appearance, even knowledge of Watari’s role. It intrigues Light, because he isn’t sure what this person could possibly want from him, or why he’s contacting him.

He says he can help. He knows L is close to solving this case. Let him help.

Light books a trip to California. It’s sudden, but he says that between school and work, he’s really stressed out. His dad understands, even defends him; he’s working too hard on this case he’s not even technically being paid to do, while trying to figure out how to manage school in between. He needs time to himself to sort things out, and maybe a trip out by himself is what he needs. He wants to visit the forests up north, and maybe explore some of the other cities. A two week trip should be enough time for that.

So he goes. He spends part of the first week up in the Redwoods, goes down to San Francisco, and eventually gets to Los Angeles.

This means, when L expects him back at headquarters by the weekend, that he really only has seventy-two hours to finalize things with B. They need to settle on a plan.

“Here’s how it’s going to work,” B starts, sitting across from him in that same booth. Light thinks he must be sweltering under that leather jacket; it isn’t exactly cool in here. “I come back to Japan with you on an earlier flight. You need to find a way to get L out of headquarters. You know, he’s secretly an adrenaline junkie. Get him into the action. Did you already plan on the Yotsuba thing?”

Light nods. He looks down at his watch. Back at B. “Higuchi is greedy, it’ll take no time for him to want to get extra money. I just have to dangle it in front of him in just the right way.”

“Perfect. Arrange it so Higuchi will meet with…whoever, I don’t really give a fuck. Just get him at this location,” he insists, pointing at the Port of Tokyo on the map, “and L will eventually get there, too. I’ll do my job accordingly.”

“Right.” Light responds. “I would like to know more details about that, if you don’t mind.”

Dramatically, B sighs. “Don’t worry yourself. Nothing that a bike and a gun can’t take care of.”

B is ready.

Light is ready.

It’s the day of. Light’s been on edge all day. The whole group has been on edge; they all know they’re on to something big, and they’re about to crack it.

L’s learned of Higuchi, of Yotsuba, of the laundering. At least, part of it, but Light knows better than anyone else here this is just a big red herring. He really thought L would know better. He supposes not, because here he is, taking the bait. Is it for show? Does he really believe it?

He doesn’t know.

It’s close to midnight, and Aizawa and Ide have been tracking Higuchi all day, between the live feed on their screens to monitored calls (thanks to Wedy, who was only there for a few days). L climbs into the front seat on the passenger’s side, where Light can drive.

Light starts driving to the location. L sits, hands gripping his knees, tense. Police are starting to arrive towards the location; they’re receiving live updates about their statuses throughout.

“Heading south, about twenty minutes from location,” Light says into the receiver.

“Got that. We’re watching Higuchi right now.” Aizawa’s voice reports. “There doesn’t seem to be much going on.”

L hums. Light grips the steering wheel.

“We have enough evidence to arrest him already,” Light says. “Why are we holding off?”

“We need sufficient, hard evidence. This will be enough.” L grits.

“The bank statements aren’t enough?”

B was right. L is an adrenaline junkie. Light sees the way his eyes change, and he knows this isn’t just for evidence; it’s so he can say he did it. So he can say he was right. He caught one of the largest white collar criminals the world has ever seen.

Light looks in the rearview mirror. He sees the bike. He hears a shot. L looks in the side mirror, and sees the same.

“We’re being followed.”

“Shit,” Light mutters. He speeds up, trying to weave between traffic. His heart is racing. He’s trying to stay calm. “Do you think–”

Another shot. This one hits the car.

L reaches into his pocket and grabs his gun. “Keep driving.”

He leans out the window.

Light hears a shot.

And then, L slumps.

B realizes, far too late, that working with Light was the worst possible thing he could’ve done.

He sees it from behind the bars of his cell. Sentenced to life, sitting in San Quentin State Prison. Found guilty of first-degree murder and conspiracy to commit murder. He’s not surprised in the slightest. He held up his end of the deal.

Light didn’t.

Instead, he let him be arrested. Had his team follow him, get him arrested, extradited back to the States. He got his money, but not for long. He sits alone, biding the rest of the time he has on Earth, eating shitty prison food and fighting with inmates and ending up in solitary for a few weeks. He watches stupid reruns of Law and Order and reads books and occasionally steals a newspaper off of his cellmate.

That’s how he sees Light Yagami come up in the world. He sees him becoming what L used to be. He reads about how Yotsuba was dissolved, but other companies–smaller ones, like Yotsuba once was–grow into the large, influential entities they are. It’s because of him. All of it.

He thought he got what he wanted. It was just another way for business, and it shouldn’t have been personal, but oh, it was. He knew that as soon as he pulled the trigger, as soon as he met Light Yagami at that stupid little restaurant in that stupid, sticky booth.

B didn’t want that. He needed something from L, something permanent to soothe the pain of everything between them, but death was something that stuck; the bullet, an indefinite solution, holding his anger, his resentment, his grief and sadness.

He’s paying for it, now. He knows that well enough.

So B sits.

He thinks of the watch Light Yagami wore.

—

#fanfiction #death note #submission #light yagami #l lawliet #beyond birthday #rosyoongi #jam-knife #Near's Bday Finale 2k21 #ratings: teen

16 notes · View notes

bold-writing · 4 years

Text

The One With Whiskey Eyes || 9 || Precious Porcelain, Cracked and Broken

Warnings: Violence, Swearing, Threats.

Words: 3600+

Previous || Next

~9~

Iris and Barry emailed back and forth a few more times over Sunday, usually short and sweet since he was at work and Iris didn’t want to distract him from his job. Luke had surprised her with an email later in the day, saying that he’d bugged Barry into giving him her email address with a wink emoji at the end of the sentence. She’d just shaken her head with a smile as she pulled out some food for a simple dinner.

She had started her Monday with a positive outlook, having gotten much better sleeps the past couple of nights and therefore back on her game when she stepped into work. Emailing Barry and Luke had been one of the first things that she had done in the morning, somehow feeling right at home with the new addition to her routine.

The first couple of hours had gone smoothly, and Iris had been relieved to be back in her element with something to do with her time. Her coworkers were especially happy to have her back, thinking that she was going to go back to her usual routine of taking any and all hours that she could get her hands on; instead, she’d called the owner that morning and had discussed getting her schedule changed to allow for more free time on weekends and maybe evenings.

They had happily agreed, since she hadn’t taken voluntary time off since she had started there.

Her day was going smooth and by the book, Iris able to get lost in her thoughts as she priced and scanned the new books they had gotten in while manning the counter. Her coworkers were among the shelves, stocking up the empty spaces and cleaning up the messes that customers left behind.

Unfortunately, that good day didn’t last long.

“Miss, I can’t take this book,” Iris denied as she pushed the worn novel back across the counter. “Not only do you not have your receipt, we do not even sell that here.” They hadn’t gone through the painstaking process of transferring all of their files to computer for nothing, Iris was able to search for any book title and know whether they sold it or not.

“I lost the receipt, sorry! But I bought this book here, just last week!”

“Well it’s in terrible condition for having been bought a week ago,” Iris answered, motioning to the heavily cracked spine, bent front page and stains along the bottom corner. “We have strict rules here; you must return the book, with your receipt, within fourteen days of purchase.” Iris motioned to the taped up sign that was located just over Iris’s right shoulder, stating the rules that Iris had just said.

“I would like to talk to your manager,” the woman finally demanded with a deep scowl. She was several inches taller than Iris on flat ground, and she was now wearing four inch heels that made her absolutely tower over the younger woman.

“Hi,” Iris smiled back, remaining firmly rooted in place as she gave a small wave—almost, but not quiet, mockingly.

The woman’s face morphed into a livid frown before she snatched the book from the counter and turned on heel so fast that Iris was surprised she hadn’t spun right off her heels. She watched the woman leave, allowing Iris the satisfaction of once more having been able to pull the ‘I am the manager’ card. Iris glanced over to the coworker that was stocking just a few feet away from her, hiding a grin as she tucked more books on the shelf.

“You enjoy that too much,” she called over to Iris, amusement colour her features.

“The look on their face is the only thing that makes being the manager worth it,” Iris answered as she resumed her work of unboxing, pricing and scanning the books to put everything in the system. “Makes you glad we put everything on a computer system a couple years ago?” she offered, getting a laugh from the younger woman as she nodded eagerly.

“I don’t know how you stay so calm when you have people like that,” Jessica, the younger girl who had been there for nearly five years, added on as she finished with the box that Iris had given to her and moved over to collect the other one that Iris had priced for her.

“It helps that I go into a situation like that knowing they’ll ask for…well, me.” Jessica snorted at Iris’s explanation before the two women returned to their work. Iris pulled her long braid over her shoulder in nervous habit, her eyes double checking the computer screen to make sure that the correct number of copies had been entered before she opened a new page for the next box.

She was wearing a pair of thin black compression gloves, keeping her hands warm and protecting them from being cut up or dried out by the boxes and books, while also hiding her mark from prying eyes. Those that she worked with had gotten so accustomed to her wearing the gloves; they didn’t usually bring them up anymore. However, now and then they would make bets about whether or not it was a soulmark, and what it might say that would make her hide it.

The next box that Iris opened was a hardcover sketchbook, one of their best-selling sketchbooks; which made her smile as Barry popped into her mind.

She had barely tagged one book when the bell over the door signalled that someone else had entered the store. Having heard the same thing every day since she worked there, Iris didn’t even look up from the counter this time. “Welcome to Pages of the World; if you need any help just let me know!” she called from her place behind the counter while sticking another price-tag on the sketchbook.

“Yea, you can fucking help me, brat!”

Iris flinched while looking up from her work, the booming yell of a man charging up to the counter making her want to tuck tail and run. Women she could deal with, they always came off as less terrifying to her than men did after all these years. Even Jessica flinched behind the display she was setting up, looking between Iris and the irate man wearily.

“Excuse me?” Iris stuttered out in surprise, unable to supress the fear that had her leaning back. There was still a counter between the two of them, but Iris couldn’t find the assurance in it.

“You turned my wife away just because of a receipt? What the hell kinda customer service skills do you have to honestly be a manager?” Oh course it had to be the husband. Somehow, Iris figured that the couple had planned this. They would try to get a free fifteen dollars for a used book that was not from this store; if the wife’s sob story about losing the receipt didn’t work, the husband would come in and try to scare her into doing the non-existent return.

“Ones that do not concede to liars,” Iris snapped back with more bravado than she actually felt. “The rules are clear, and I do not appreciate your immaturity with the situation; I am a grown woman, there is no need to call me a brat, sir.”

“Clearly there is! You’re supposed to please your customers, you think I’ll ever come back here?”

“The best thing about being the manager here is that the owner has assured me that I can refuse service to anyone that I want. I assure you, sir, I do not want you or your wife to ever come back.” Iris’s tone stayed level and calm the entire time she was speaking, not once raising to the point that it could be considered yelling.

Beneath the counter, Iris subtly slipped off the metal bracelet that she wore around her wrist with the keys she needed for the different locks within the store. When unclipped, it was four inches of metal that held four full sized keys on the end of it. She was not opposed to swinging it at the man’s face if he tried anything.

His face was red by the time she finished speaking, his jaw locked tight as he fixed a glare on Iris that she was sure was supposed to scare her into relenting. “Now, I will have to ask that you leave this store before I am forced to call the authorities and have you escorted out.”

Standing behind the display, Jessica was watching the entire thing with wide eyes and a jaw close to dropping. Her manager, tiny little five foot Iris that was about one hundred pounds soaking wet, was holding her ground against a six foot tall man that looked like he could throw her with one hand. Her voice had wavered in the beginning, but then she had successfully collected herself and was able to keep her composure.

“You go ahead and call them, but I am getting my refund!” the man roared, reaching toward the buttons on the register to Iris’s right—which was rather stupid, since none of them would open the register unless Iris actually unlocked it first.

Similar to what she had done with Luke in the grocery store, Iris reached out and swung her chain of keys down onto the back of his hand, the man hadn’t even been able to hit a single button before he was recoiling in shock at the sharp pain that accompanied her attack. “This will be your final warning,” she almost growled out, her free hand poised over the phone.

Majority of the employees here were woman, so the police were on speed-dial just in case ‘911’ would take too long.

“You fucking cun-”

He never got the chance to finish what he was saying before he was suddenly slammed down onto the counter, drawing a startled yelp from both Iris and Jessica as the women leapt backward from the sudden action. A pale hand was holding the wanna-be robber by the back of his neck, pressing his face into the polished counter with considerable force, the other hand keeping the man’s arm tight behind his back in a very uncomfortable looking angle.

“That is not how you speak to a lady, and it’s especially not how you speak to mine.”

Iris damn near choked on air when she heard the familiar voice, this time with a more average American accent, and looked up the pale arms that had the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, a sweatshirt left unzipped to expose an average undershirt and a necklace of some kind dipping down beneath the fabric. She stopped breathing entirely when her familiar handwriting was brought to the forefront of her attention. It was in her cursive, so she couldn’t read it from here, but there were many scattered along his forearms and another that shown at his left pectoral.

“What the fuck, man, get off!” the man snarled, though he was still useless to fight against the newest soulmate for Iris to meet. Had it not been for the lack of accent, she would almost think that it could have been Luke, but that would have been pushing it.

“You don’t talk to people like that, ya hear me?” he demanded while pushing the man’s face down against the counter with more force, getting an uncomfortable groan in response. “Huh?” he pressed again when no verbal response came.

“Alright!”

Nodding in satisfaction, her nameless soulmate hauled the man up from the desk and turned to face him with a hard glare. “You ever come back here and you’ll be dealing with me.” Iris had to strain to hear, but the threat was as clear as day. Then he shoved the man to the side, in the direction of the door he’d come through minutes before, and watched to make sure he left without touching any of the meticulously arranged displays.

Only when he’d ran passed the store windows and disappeared from view did his bark blue eyes turn toward Iris, who had remained silently shocked from the moment he’d first slammed her would-be robber down on the desk. “You alright, doll? He didn’t hurt ya?”

Iris opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out. She couldn’t even think of forming words as the world suddenly went blurry around her and she could feel the heat in her cheeks as her blood fled from her already pale complexion.

Without a word, she suddenly turned and sat on the nearby desk chair that she used while doing paperwork, the sound of rushing footsteps alerting her to someone behind the desk before Jessica’s terrified face came into view. “Iris!” she called, apparently not for the first time, and reached for the older woman’s face to feel her strikingly cold cheeks.

Another hand against her shoulder, much larger and holding more weight behind it, drew Iris to look to her right with limp neck muscles barely keeping her head up. Barry? No, not Barry. Not Luke.

Who?

“It’s alright, doll, you just take your time,” he assured gently, his tone having changed drastically from when he’d first starting speaking to the other man. Even when he’d addressed Iris, he’d sounded more confident and sure, almost proud of Iris’s defense. Swallowing around a suddenly dry mouth, Iris tipped her head back in an attempt to let some cool air get to her face. She knew that to another it would feel cold with lack of blood, but she felt like she was blushing red as a tomato with how hot her cheeks were.

Suddenly, cool air was blowing against her face gently as Iris took a moment to think through her breaths and bask in the refreshing feeling.

“Iris? You need me to call someone?” a new voice called timidly. It was Sarah, a twenty-one year old woman who had worked for them since she was eighteen. She’d latched onto Iris immediately, since both women were naturally quiet and usually shied away from loud, extraverted situations.

“No,” Iris breathed out softly, beginning to feel better from sitting down a moment. “Thank you, Sarah. I’ll be okay. Do you mind taking over here for a moment, though?” Opening her eyes and looking over to her young coworker, Iris was relieved to see her nodding eagerly and stepping around the counter to take Iris’s spot. “I just need some air. Come get me if you need the keys, alright?” Jessica stopped fanning her with the booklet she’d picked up, stepping back to give Iris room.

“Take your time, okay? We’re perfectly fine on our own for a few minutes.”

Reluctantly agreeing, Iris turned away from the other two and reached out for her new soulmate’s hand to draw him after her, toward the front entrance. The large windows had benches in front of them for the people walking by to sit, so she immediately went for one of those.

Her soulmate followed her willingly, sitting down next to her as Iris settled down on the sun-warmed bench. “You alright, darling?” he asked quietly, keeping his tone gentle as he looked at Iris’s pale, pinched expression.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” she mumbled tiredly, belatedly thinking that she probably should have thought of something better to say to him for first words.

“I’d rather I know what you’re going through than to be somewhere else and left to worry,” he answered easily, reaching out to pull her closer across the small bench. It left her pressed in against his side tightly, the warmth of his body helping her to relax somewhat. “That stuff happen often?”

“No,” she assured immediately, shaking her head before she let it tip to the side and rest her temple against his shoulder. “People don’t usually get so…worked up. When I mention the cops they usually take off running.”

“That guy was an asshole,” he grumbled angrily with a dark expression blanketing his features. It was not an expression she was accustomed to seeing; both Luke and Barry were more upbeat, they didn’t outwardly glare or glower. “You sure you’re alright?”

Her mouth and throat still felt abnormally dry and her heart was racing a bit faster than usual, but she could tell that there was blood returning to her face and her hands weren’t trembling like before. “I’ll be okay. I haven’t had that happen in a long time; just got overwhelmed for a minute.” He nodded in something akin to understanding, reaching up to sooth her hair gently with a gentle, assuring touch. “So, it’d be nice to have a name for my savior?”

He laughed under his breath at her timid tease, nodding in agreement. “That’s true. I’m BT, doll, and I’m damn glad I ignored Barry and came to see you today.”

Iris’s answering smile was shy and she couldn’t help but to silently agree with his words. “I’m glad, too. It scares me to think what might have happened if you hadn’t intervened.” Lowering her eyes, unable to keep looking into the deep blue—they were darker than Luke’s and Barry’s, she hadn’t thought that was possible. Instead, she looked down to where his forearms were left bare from his rolled up sleeves. Her familiar scrawl was looking back at her, especially one mark that was apparently long enough that it wrapped around his wrist three times.

A shorter one on the outside of his forearm was familiar to her; Wow, hello. Her words to Luke made her snort in amusement, reaching forward to trace the black cursive that stood out against BT’s pale skin. “It’s so strange to see my writing on someone else,” she mumbled to herself, aware that he could hear her.

BT leaned away from her suddenly, then proceeded to pull up the side of his sweater and shirt that he was wearing to expose the left side of his torso. I’m sorry you had to see that was written across his side, starting at the base of his ribs and trailing down along to the hem of his pants.

Her lips parted in surprise as she looked at the dark words, repressing the urge to reach out and touch them. Barry and Luke hadn’t outwardly tried to hide their skin or marks from her, but they had worn warmer clothes when she’d met them and therefore had masked any of their marks. BT was the first to wear something that exposed his marks willingly, feeling as though he had nothing to hide.

And to go even further, he had gone ahead and pulled up his shirt to show her the words that she had just spoken to him. She was left trying to not look at the cut of his hip that proved something she’d already assumed—he was incredibly fit.

“I…can’t show you where mine is,” she admitted softly, her cheeks warming with a blush as she remembered where BT’s mark was—curving along her left ribs, following the natural curve that was beneath her left breast.

“Now ya got me curious,” BT teased gently, not wanting to push her too far when she was still clearly shaken from what had happened. His smile softened as he straightened his shirt and shuffled her closer to him again, returning her to her place pressed against his side. “I don’t wanna leave ya here alone; feels wrong after that.”

He motioned with his thumb in the direction that the guy had run off, probably hopping into a car that his wife was still waiting in. “I’m not alone,” Iris argued tiredly. “There’s three other people working today, and it’s just a simple bookstore. Things like that never really happen. I do get the odd person who tries to trick us by bringing in some used book for a return, but that guy was…determined.”

“Is it all girls in there? Because no offense to you all defending yourselves, but I doubt anyone’s gunna be intimidated by four short girls trying not to let him rob the place.”

“We have David in as well,” she assured. “He’s closing today, because I opened the store.”

BT seemed to relax slightly as he nodded in understanding, a thoughtful look on his face as he pondered for a moment. “When do you get off? I’ll come get ya!”

Iris wanted to stop him, to deny him from interrupting his schedule for her, but she already knew that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “I finish at four today; come here around quarter after?”

“You got it, doll.” BT leant forward suddenly to smack a kiss against the side of her head in assurance. “I’ve gotta get going, though. Barry’s already gunna be pissed if he finds out that I came here…well, more like when he finds out. Barry knows freaking everything.”

Iris stood up with BT, already feeling a thousand times better after she’d had some time to get fresh air. “Thanks for your help, BT. I’m definitely glad you came here when you did.” BT grinned broadly before he reached out to snatch her up, pulling her against him abruptly in a near bone-crushing hug. She was jarred for a moment before she returned his embrace and hugged him back, revelling in the warmth that he emitted. “I’ll see you after four.”

She backed away from him reluctantly, smiling shyly as she trailed her hand along the covered mark on his left side. BT smirked back, knowing what she was doing, as he nodded his affirmative. “Sure thing, doll. I’ll be waiting out here for you, a’right?”

“Deal.”

Previous || Next

#Split #Split Movie #Split 2016 #James McAvoy #Barry Split #Barry #Dennis Split #Dennis #Patricia Split #Hedwig Split #Imagine #Fanfiction #Fanfic #Split imagine #Soulmate Imagine #Soulmate AU #Barry/OC #Barry x Reader

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spookyhalloweennights · 4 years

Text

Wrong Numbers (Arlenix:SFW)

You stared at the number your friends had texted you, claiming that it was the number for a dating hotline. The idea of calling a hotline for a date seemed almost absurd to you, but it kept resurfacing at the most inopportune times. Like now as you were waiting in line at the grocery store, your cart was just full enough to keep you held over till next payday, but the couple in front of you were practically oozing romance. A sigh escaped you as your brain had finalized your decision. After you got home, you’d give the number a call.

You had unpacked the groceries, and were now sitting on your couch. The number was dialed into the keypad, now all you had to do was actually hit the dial button. You had to psych yourself up for it, taking a few extra moments before hitting the green call button. Pressing the phone to your ear, you held your breath as the line began to ring. It took three rings before someone had finally picked up the phone, a deep voice came through, though it was pleasant like a customer service representative should be and you couldn’t help the quiet giggle that escaped you as they began their usual routine it seemed.

“Hell’s dating hotline, how can I help you?” They asked you, you could practically picture them sitting at a desk tapping their pencil against it.

“Y-yeah, I’d like to request a date? Or a matchup…” You further explained, the person on the other line giving a long sigh as they shuffled around.

“Of course, please explain yourself, looks, what you’re looking for, and most importantly what your species is.” They responded in a monotone voice.

You froze for a moment before hesitantly beginning to describe what you were like, your hobbies, and what you looked like. You could hear the person chuckle quietly on the other end every time you paused and seemed to think a little more than what someone would. After you finished, you waited for a moment before quickly interjecting one last thing about yourself that you felt was really important.

“I’m also asexual, I hope that it won’t be too hard to find a matchup because of that, I’m really looking forward to whoever you think would be a good fit.” You rambled while the other listened intently. The fear of not finding someone because of who you are made a sense of dread build up that wasn’t relieved until the person on the other line had spoke again.

“That changes things up, alright sweetcheeks let’s see who we got in store for you.” They hummed, time seemed to stand still as you waited for the response.

“I see you’d be a perfect fit for our Arlenix, he’s a sweetheart. I’ll share your contact details with him, and will send you his information as well. You will receive a text holding all of the information, please let me know if you receive it.” They explained to you, waiting for your confirmation on whether or not you got the text.

You pulled the phone away from your ear as a text message from an unknown sender popped up, you clicked it open which revealed all of the necessary contact information for your match. You put the phone back up and confirmed you had indeed received the text. They then had wished you a good day and good luck with your match.

Arlenix was the one to initiate the conversation with enthusiasm that you were quick to match. The conversation with Arlenix seemed to never falter or get awkward, they were right, he was an absolute sweetheart. The match was almost too good to be true, they couldn’t have paired you with a better person.

You had suggested meeting up, but there had always seemed to be some kind of excuse that came from him. You figured perhaps he wasn’t confident enough in himself, or he really was just that busy. Either way, it was starting to eat at you not knowing what he looked like. There was only so far your imagination could take you, and you desperately wanted to know who exactly you were talking to.

“Hey, Arlenix?” You tried catching his attention the one night you were on a call with him. He hummed in response, letting you know that he was paying attention. “Can we meet up? Please? I really like you and…” A sigh from the other end had you pausing in your words.

“I really don’t think you’d like me but… Since you’ve asked, I don’t see why not… I’ll text you the address to meet me at later, okay? I gotta run.” Arlenix mumbled as the line went dead. You sighed before tucking your phone away into your pocket.

You had checked, double checked and even triple checked your text messages, the address for the music store glowed brightly on the screen. It was almost fifteen minutes after Arlenix was supposed to meet you and you had yet to catch sight of him. You were just beginning to lose hope when the bell above the door had rung. Glancing up, you noticed a lanky figure glancing around, he was hunched over so he wasn’t as tall as what he should be. Spikes that looked to be made of bones rose up along his back right along the center while bat-like wings were tucked close to his body so they wouldn’t snag on anything.

His eyes were pupil-less and black, his hands were more claw-like you noticed as he gave you a slight wave. Ah. That must be Arlenix. You glanced down at your phone, pulling up the messages from your friend who had sent you the message in the first place discreetly as you offered him a wave back with a smile. Noting the difference in the two numbers, that's where it had gone wrong. You had called the wrong hotline, and somehow managed to call a demon dating hotline. Not that you minded, if anything you enjoyed Arlenix’s conversation more.

Arlenix moved towards you, shuffling about carefully as to not destroy anything in the shop until he had reached you. He held out a small bouquet of flowers and you took them gratefully.

After the first date came the second, then the third and so on until you couldn’t keep track of them. You had yet to figure out what Arlenix actually was, as he wasn’t an ordinary demon, those you had seen and they didn’t look like him. He wouldn’t reveal it to you, not even after he had moved in with you after a few months of dating. The thought was always tucked away in the back of your mind, and it was during one of the routine cuddling sessions you two had when you had brought up the topic again.

“Arlenix, what are you? I know you’re not a regular demon, those I’ve seen and none of them look like you.” You mumbled, feeling his gaze shift down towards you.

“It’s not important, besides… What if I scare you away when I tell you what I am?” He asked, genuine fear in his voice as his grip on you tightened just a little more. You turned in his lap to face him, huffing quietly.

“I’m not going anywhere, no matter what you say or do, we can work things out. I’ve been with you long enough, if I didn’t like you I would’ve left after realizing I had dialed the wrong number for a dating hotline.” You responded, gently brushing your fingers across his cheek and he leaned into the touch with a pleased sigh.

Silence fell between the pair of you until he shifted slightly, running his fingers through your hair before he began to speak. “I’m an incubus.” The words fell from his lips like a ton of bricks, his shoulders tensing as he awaited your reaction.

“But not a normal one since we’ve never…” You trailed off, not completing the sentence as Arlenix nodded in response.

“I had tried, repeatedly, I mean that’s what an incubus is supposed to do right? But… I felt gross afterwards, and I had never initiated it. It was always the opposite party starting things. I didn’t know that you could not want sex, for my kind its practically unheard of. I had asked to be taken off the list for incubi when it came to summoning and tried other jobs. When I heard about the hotline, I thought that perhaps it could give me the chance at something I really wanted to, so I had signed up.” He explained, rubbing at his eyes in a way that would make you think he was trying to keep from crying.

“But then… How do you feed?” You asked, giving him a reassuring squeeze as he seemed to relax just a bit, you hadn’t yelled or left him yet so it must be okay.

“Like this? I uhm, figured out how to feed off of emotional intimacy and well… Cuddling like this without hurting my partner or making them feel drained. That’s how I knew they had matched me with the right person. You weren’t afraid when you first saw me, you were intrigued.” He mumbled quietly, resting his chin on top of your head.

“Arlenix?” He glanced down at you when you tried to get his attention. “Thank you for answering that question, I love you for who you are, not what you are. The cuteness I get is just bonus points.” You teased lightly, watching as his face flushed with color.

“I’m really glad you misdialed that number.” He muttered with a huff, which only made you laugh in response.

#exophilia #monster lover #monster x reader #monster #incubus #incubus x reader #incubus lover #Spooky'sWriting #sfw #asexual monster #spookyhalloweennights

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basicjetsetter · 4 years

Text

Part IV

♡ Pairing: Peter Parker x Black!FemaleReader

▹ Warnings: Little angst, Lot of anxiety, Fluff if you squint

▹ Words: 2.8k

▹ A/N: This chapter’s a bit on the short side, but it establishes a lot. Happy reading!

You’re not exactly sure how you pull it off, but you somehow manage to elude Peter for five straight days.

Playing the impromptu game of hide-and-not-be-seen was touch and go for the first two days, mainly because you weren’t sure what time you’d see Peter in the diner’s entrance. All you knew was that he’d show up early, whatever that meant. Almost every chiming bell sent your heart into overdrive, and whenever you thought you saw him, your stomach performed painful somersaults as you mapped out all likely escape routes.

No place in the diner was safe. Hal’s has a pretty simple layout: front entrance, booths to the immediate right, and bar with barstools to the immediate left, all in a shotgun fashion. If one were to try looking for someone, especially from the front entrance, all they’d have to do is marginally widen their field of vision, which is why the first two days were tricky.

The next day after the first run-in, about three hours earlier than his initial arrival, Peter came in through the front door, buddying up with Chris and asking for you.

You were clearing off an unoccupied table, piling dirty plates, when Chris called out, “Hey! How’s it hanging, Peter?” With the stack of dishes still clenched in your hands, you dropped down and crawled under the booth, coming face to face with an unsavory assortment of chewed-up gum underneath the table, holding your breath for dear life. Peter stayed for about ten agonizingly treacherous minutes as Chris failed to locate you.

On the second day, a sluggish Tuesday morning with only four regular patrons at the bar and no one in the booths, Peter had just walked through the entrance as you were coming out of the back, hand-carrying three of Hal’s famous Thin Mint Milkshakes. Without a thought, you spun right around and dashed in the opposite direction, busting through the employee door and colliding straight into Wendy. You’d never seen someone throw such a fit, but then again, you’d be pretty pissed too if someone coated you head-to-toe in milkshake.

That day was… eventful, to say the least, but it gifted you with the best estimate for Peter’s arrivals. Early meant 11:30 a.m. on the dot. Lunch. You tested out the time the next day, waiting behind the employee door and peering out the medium-sized port window. At 11:30 a.m., right on cue, was Peter, dapping Chris and ordering a slice of Banana Cream Pie to-go while also asking for your whereabouts, staying for only half an hour.

He left you a note each time he departed.

Can’t seem to catch you. I’ll try again tomorrow :) – Peter

Is this not a good time for you? I’ll stop by later if you want – Peter

Is everything alright? Text or call anytime you need me. I’ll be there – Peter

From the second note on, you found yourself captivated by his neat little scrawl and the way he always signed his name at the end, as if you’d forget it was him. You’d read them on your way home and right before falling asleep, trying and failing not to picture him smiling at you while you absent-mindedly smiled at his words.

Your friendly boy-next-door is so easy to fall for, but you just can’t do it. You can’t allow yourself to fall. Nobody would be there to pick you back up.

Some nights, you lied awake drafting a message that would effectively convince Peter that things wouldn’t work between you, that you’re a lost cause, and he should probably find some other connection if such a thing exists. But then, unfailingly, you’d think about his concerned little notes and sadly acknowledge that he deserves more than a measly text. After showing up to Hal’s for almost a whole week just to get to know you, Peter deserves the truth.

Your heart is not ready for a Soulmate, and it might not ever be.

By the fifth day, you spend a good chunk of time pondering over the right words to say to Peter while simultaneously hiding in the kitchen, pretending to prepare more fries. You never looked forward to hiding from him, but what other option did you have? Going out there and letting your coworkers and boss know he’s your Soulmate? They wouldn’t shut up about it, especially not Chris, the open romantic.

When your shift ended that day, and you walked up to Chris so he could hand you Peter’s fifth note, he emphatically shook his head.

“On behalf of my new friend, Peter, I can’t in good faith give this to you,” he stated, tucking the folded paper into his back pocket and crossing his arms. “Not until you tell me why you’re dodging him.”

You frowned, crossing your arms too. “It’s really none of your business, Chris.”

“True, but it’s his.” The little dig got to you, making you wince. Chris continued softly, “Look, he won’t tell me what’s up with you two, either. And, trust me, I've asked. It's just... I’m kinda involved now, being the messenger and all, so shouldn’t I know some of the situation?”

“No…?” you hedged.

Chris didn’t budge.

You couldn’t think of a lie on the spot, and a half-truth would only further complicate things. Treading the fine line of what’s too much information and what’s not enough left you frustratingly tongue-tied. What’s specific enough to still be vague? Chris stared at you expectantly with a petulant little lift in his brow, ignoring a customer’s disgruntled calls for a refill in the napkin dispenser.

In the end, you huffed out a resigned breath and hesitantly admitted, “Peter's someone I knew from high school—a really nice guy.” For Chris’s benefit, you added, “He just likes to check up on me every now and then. You know how I don’t get out that much…”

And in a heartbeat, Chris morphed from a tough enquirer to a softened pile of dough, sagely nodding his head as if he knew all too well how reserved you are and how much of a losing battle it is persuading you to venture out. Or maybe it was because he understood how difficult it is to reconnect with people you unwilfully lost touch with for five years.

How everything and everyone fell right back into step with everyday life, like five years was just five minutes, continues to boggle your mind. It’s not normal. You won’t ever pretend that it is.

The disgruntled man shouted, “Can I get any damn service around here?”

Chris immediately broke from the conversation and left you behind the bar, off to go charm the customer’s socks off and earn a nice $10 tip even though he clocked out ten minutes ago.

You went on your way home, the ever-present anxiety of confronting Peter growing by the second.

Hours later, dressed down to your pajamas and reading his words over again, you’re still thinking about it, dread now gnawing on your insides.

You couldn’t even enjoy your newfound peace of mind. Ever since the voice stopped, Peter twined into all of your thoughts: his notes, his visits, his smile, your connection to him. There had to be a reason why destiny paired you. Besides being your Soulmate, what is he to you? What are you to him?

Unrest barred you from sleep for most of the night, and when you woke up the next morning, showered and ready to tackle another day, it hit you.

It’s Saturday—your day off this week—and you’re not scheduled to go back to work until Monday.

You could put off telling him… but what would be the point? It’d only prolong the inevitable. You needed to come clean today.

Picking up your phone, you steadily tap in his memorized cell number, then type:

-Hey Peter, it’s Y/N. Can you come by my place? We need to talk.

Three minutes later, he texts back.

-On my way.

✦ ✧✦ ✧

A nice, early summer breeze billows around you, doing its best to calm down your erratic nerves as you wait for Peter on the roof.

Are you doing the right thing?

Will Peter be okay with this?

What if he isn’t?

You jump out of your skin at the muffled Thwip and sudden appearance of Peter standing a few feet away.

His chestnut hair is windswept, and he’s wearing regular clothes, a faded blue Midtown High hoodie and denim jeans. You weren’t sure why you expected him to come dressed in his suit. It could be because you heard the sound of his web-slinger first and immediately thought of Spider-Man, but it’s more likely that your brain hasn’t connected that they are one and the same. You don’t see Spider-Man when you see him. All you see is Peter.

He’s tense, not moving an inch closer and keeping his shoulders pinched up like he’s on the defense. You can’t guess why he would be.

Gulping down a hard lump lodged in your throat, you stutter, “H-hi.”

He gives you a polite smile that doesn’t reach his sullen eyes. “Hey”

You both begin at the same time.

“Peter, I—”

“Look, Y/N—”

Ice floods your stomach, freezing your veins and squeezing your pounding heart. He has something to say to you? About what? You subtly jerk your head up, signaling for him to speak first.

Peter clears his throat, looks down at his shoes, then back up at you. “I know you’ve been hiding from me.”

“You do?” you squeak, eyes wide.

“Yeah, and it’s okay.”

Your voice hikes an octave. “It is?”

He nods. “Yeah. It’s fine. I get it.” He stops to scratch the back of his neck and dejectedly rambles on, “I’m not the safest person to be around, and it’s all super weird and a lot to take in. Like, a lot. My Aunt May freaked out too when she found out. Anyway, I… I get it if you don’t, y’know, don’t want me.”

“Wait, hold on,” you interrupt, trying to wrap your head around what he said. “You think… you think I don’t want you because you’re Spider-Man?”

“Well, yeah.” He says it like there couldn’t be any other possible reason.

You lower your gaze to the ground, unable to meet his curious gaze. “No, Peter, that’s not it.” Tears prick your eyes, but you fight like hell to keep them from falling. Steeling yourself, you quietly confess, “It’s me. I can’t be your Soulmate because…” A rebellious tear rolls down your cheek. “Because I’m not ready.”

As soon as you spoke the truth out loud, laying yourself and your broken soul bare, you dimly sense the previously severed string quiver deep down inside your chest. It’s the first time you felt it in five years, and it’s not how you remember it. It’s not severed, but it’s not whole either. Its presence only reminds you of what you can’t have, what you aren’t ready for.

In the ensuing quiet, you swipe the tear off your cheek and look at everything except Peter. Yellow tulips are blooming on someone’s balcony in the neighboring apartment building. A handful of fluffy clouds float in the piercing blue sky. An orange tabby cat is sun-bathing in a window.

It’s such a beautiful day. Yet, here you are, struggling not to cry on a roof.

Peter breaks through the silence, murmuring, “To be honest, I’m not ready either.”

“Really?” You ask, a little too hopeful, bringing your eyes back to his. They look so weary yet resolute.

“Yeah. I was actually freaking out that night we met.” He timidly grins, and your heart flips. “I didn’t know what to say, then I screwed up and forgot to ask if you were okay after I had literally just saved you from falling. Not really a glowing first impression.”

Astonishing yourself, you laugh. You couldn’t help it. There was absolutely nothing remotely hilarious about that night, but the way Peter described it, as if it were a blunder solely on his part, was so ridiculous that it was funny. Peter joins in, too, his laugh coming out airy and wondrously addictive. That smile you couldn’t stop thinking about for a whole week brightens his face.

When the laughs fade, Peter soberly says, “Even if we aren’t ready, maybe we can try being friends, just to see where things go? I mean, we were meant to be together for a reason, right? This could be it.”

You unconsciously nibble on your lower lip, considering his proposal. It hadn’t occurred to you that he might want to be friends. Would you want to do that? These days, you aren’t really open to platonic relationships, and Soulmate or not, being in a friendship would require some sort of connection. You don’t like those much.

Be that as it may, Peter seems like the type to respect your many boundaries, and that’s exactly what you would prefer in a friend at the moment. Someone who doesn’t pry. Someone who doesn’t uphold generic expectations. You could go for a diner talk every once in a while.

Besides, it’s just a little friendship. Most are surface level, and some don’t even last a year. What’s the worst that could happen?

You sincerely smile at Peter, wondering about the last time your smiles were sincere, and say, “Okay. Let’s be friends.”

His face radiates joy. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, I think we can do that. But I have a few terms.”

Peter eagerly nods, waiting.

You try not to focus on how his happiness thrills you. “One, don’t tell anyone we’re Soulmates. I don’t really want any of my coworkers to know.”

His smile drops into a sheepish wince. “I kinda already told Ned. But he won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

“That’s okay. It’s mostly my coworkers I’m worried about,” you reassure. You weren’t going to berate him for telling his best friend. If things were different, you’d have done the same. “Two, don’t ask me to hang out with your other friends. I don’t do big friend circles.”

“Got it,” he militantly nods again. “It’s mostly just Ned and me anyway.”

“And three,” your grin broadens. “If Chris asks you what’s going on between us, be super vague.”

“Done.” He smirks back at you, then extends his hand. “Friends?”

When your hand touches his, and you shake on it, the warmth of his palm thaws out all your remaining anxiety. “Friends.”

✦ ✧✦ ✧

When Monday rolls around, a tiny ball of doubt weighs you down.

It’s not that you were afraid of talking to Peter. You were actually looking forward to getting to know him now that you officially became friends. It’s the future you’re stuck on. What happens if you get too attached to this friendship and want more? What if friendship is all he wants? What if it’s the other way around?

If you were honest with yourself, you’d know which way the gage is leaning, and it’s not in your favor.

You’re cleaning off the bar top when Peter comes in, doing his usual greeting with Chris before settling down on a barstool in front of you. He’s a little high strung, leaning his chin on his hand, then thinking against it, only to do it again. It was oddly comforting to know that he was overthinking too.

The corners of your lips tug up in a soft smile. “Hi, Peter.”

Your face warms as he smiles back. “Hey, Y/N.”

Chris barges in, leaning his elbows on the bar top and gaping incredulously at you and Peter. “Woah, woah, woah! Did I miss something? Since when are you two speaking in public?”

Peter checks his watch. “About thirty-seven seconds ago.”

“Oh, come on, dude. At least tell me what happened.”

You and Peter share a knowing look like two conniving co-conspirators sharing an inside joke, and you giggle as Chris huffs in annoyance. He glumly storms off when you two stay hushed, muttering, “Fine, next time you need a middle-man, count me out.”

“Does he hold grudges?” Peter asks after Chris walks out of earshot.

You’re still shaking with giggles. “Not at all. He’ll be back to his happy self in less than an hour.”

Peter only stays at Hal’s for twenty-five minutes, but they were the funniest and most intriguing twenty-five minutes you ever worked.

The conversation began slowly at first, but each question loosened the formalities. Peter asked about easy things: when did you get into art, when did you start working at Hal’s, and when was your birthday, all while digging into his slice of pie. He caught on fast enough to know the topic of parents was off-limits, and he thankfully chose to stay away from any talk of the blip.

When you asked him questions, he was open and responsive, jumping at the chance to talk about his passion for bio-sciences and Star Wars, sometimes covertly mentioning some of the duties he has a Spider-Man. Not a minute was wasted. You talked while serving customers and cleaning tables, keeping up the joke of staying quiet when Chris tried to meddle.

It all turned out smoother than you expected. Almost too smooth, and you’re not sure if that’s good or bad.

You are sure about one thing, though. You like having Peter as a friend.

...

Part V

#peter parker #peter parker x black!reader #peter parker x reader #spider-man x black!reader #spider-man x reader #soulmate au #post endgame #pre far from home #peter parker soulmate au #peter parker angst #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #marvel fanfic #black!reader #slow burn #how to trust a heart #peter parker fluff

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tsuumu · 4 years

Text

hq boys and their part time jobs.

yet another unseries headcanon post made by yours truly! unlike my last one which you can find here, i won’t be involving every single major hq character so that’s just a heads up!! i can’t always envision stuff fully with every single person...

kageyama tobio: this boy thought that applying to work part-time at a sports shop would be fitting ‘cause of his love for volleyball, completely unaware that this would involve way too much social interaction and tolerance???? like he thought he’d just have to look like someone who does sports and occasionally restock yoga mats but these loud ass kids are coming up to him asking for this that and the other for sports he’s never heard of. suddenly he regrets the entire thing. plus, he has no idea how to use the cash register and it’s his worse nightmare to ring up items without wanting to stomp a hole into it to get the customer’s change.

hinata shoyo: shoyo went straight for the pet shelter because he’s in love with playing with the little puppies. this boy will full on roll around with them, stuff them under his shirt so their heads poke out and just.. intergrate and become one of them... the doggies love him so much n always clamber to sit on his lap because hinata treats them with so much love and kindness!! customers looking for pets often joke about taking him home bc he’s just as excitable and friendly as the actual dogs. he’s also really good at convincing people on the fence to get a pet and explaining their individual personalities because he knows them so well :(

nishinoya yuu: he said: supermarket assistant so he could ride around on the carts, intimidates literally every customer with his ungodly enthusiasm but is determined to help EVERYONE, he’ll run around the store taking people where they need to go but only if he actually remembers where they’re situated. otherwise this boy is like “yeah they’re just... that way.” and bolts in the other direction. gets along with all his colleagues and tells them all about his tournaments with karasuno. he’s not the star employee but it wouldn’t be the same w out him.. often asks the manager if he can taste test the market’s pastry section to which he is rejected every single time.

tanaka ryuu: he’s convinced working in his local gym was him in his element, he wears that tag thing like a badge of honour and just walks around showing people he works there instead of actually doing his job??? he’s also overly enthusiastic and will sometimes cheer on the people working out as if he’s some kind of zealous personal trainer and everybody is like “literally how old is this guy??” he’s surprisingly awesome at reception duty because he’s always chatting to regulars about how they’re doing... the practical side like schedules and paperwork he leaves for someone else, everyone just puts up with him bc he’s a mood setter.

sugawara koushi: don’t get me started on this boy as a teacher’s assistant, like he helps little kids out with their work, tidies up the class during their break times and reads them stories?? he’s THAT senior boy who’s the biggest sweetheart and seeing him handle kids so well is like ... does he want some of his own ?? i’d like to offer my expertise he’s always got a smile on his face, gets along with all the staff much older than him, he’s like this perfect boy they all dote on and he gets super flustered saying he just really likes helping out the children and making them smile. often brings them little snacks too and they all call him big brother BYE.

tsukkishima kei: he does some low-key shit that’s kinda wholesome like working with the eldery or tutoring kids but prefers for literally nobody to know about it because anything he does outside of school is his business. he does it because it’s good pay, there’s not much else to it. if anybody found out he’d be super irritated tbh it’s just an invasion of privacy to him but eventually wouldn’t care because every kid is getting part-time jobs these days.

oikawa tooru: bye he’s THAT guy who got his job at a retail store because he’s pretty. like he has no real interest in clothes or anything but he takes the job as a place to validate himself when girls come up to him purposefully to flirt. he’s winking and laughing with them and also NOT actually doing his job but he brings in customers so at least he’s somewhat useful. doesn’t know how to fold clothes or hang stuff on hangers properly for shit and everyone lowkey wants to kick his ass but he’s actually very friendly and outgoing even if he has no clue what he’s doing. keeps asking if bra sizes come in small, medium and large and everyone just tells him to shut up.

iwaizumi hajime: when picking a job he was like “well what am i good at?” and went from there. he ended up as the local pool’s weekend lifeguard because he had the qualifications and time. again, everyone his age just tries to hit on him and he’s annoyed because it distracts him from the actual purpose of his job. he takes it seriously and impresses his colleagues with his swimming talent and knowledge on first aid. iwaizumi lowkey scares the little kids and they’re kind of afraid to ask him for help so he’s been working on looking a little more friendly.

kuroo tetsurou: kuroo as a tennis instructor assistant or just something sporty other than volleyball because he’s a multi-talented king?? like he’s not a professional by any means but he helps out the youth club and gets along with kids a few years younger than him. fills in for refs at tournaments, makes sure equipment is safe to use and is SUPER good at cheering club goers up when they lose or fail or can’t seem to do it correctly. he often refers to his experiences as nekoma’s captain to relate to them and they really admire his resilience and ask him to tell them more stories!!

kenma kozume: had to be dragged out to do a part-time job. was absolutely against the thought of it until hinata mentioned a friend of his who’d moved to the prefecture near kenma got a job at this new game shop. he was like fine and applied. he just kinda sat and people asked him questions about the games but he refused to do any further socialisation or actual grunt work like shelving, he quit pretty soon after, he just wanted the money to buy a game he ended up purchasing on his way out lmaoo

bokuto koutarou: he was dead set on having a volleyball related job, fukurodani have a club for junior players from all over the city to come and practice together. he was like?!? “and nobody told me??” he’s perfect for it as the captain and ends up as a secondary coach. he shows off A LOT and like kuroo, encourages the kids when they’re down. except kuroo is a more sit down, hand on shoulder, casual talk kind of guy. bokuto gets ridiculously sentimental and tells them dramatically about his lowest memories as captain when fukurodani lost and the kids are genuinely as emotional because of he way he tells it??? idk but they love him and he’s a ball of passion that keeps them going.

akaashi keiji: we are talking pretty waiter at a local gormet restaurant that gets tipped SO MUCH for his true professionalism. knows how to handle every situation with ease and is super calm, doesn’t care at all if someone from his school is there. he’s really just chasing that bag and he’s doing it well. bokuto often picks him up after his shifts so they can do stuff together but akaashi requests it be something calming since he’s tired after work... bokuto is like,, “so no to rock-climbing? alright i’ll reschedule..” the other waiters lowkey HATE the fact he gets tipped so well and they try and figure out his secrets. he has none. he’s just good at his job. i could see kiyoko working a similar job or somewhere lowkey like a flourist or bakery. she’s equally as professional and admired.

ushijima wakatoshi: ANY JOB. give this man any job and he’ll be able to carry it out like he’s been doing it since he popped out the womb. often mistaken for a grown adult so he gets jobs pretty easily? very very professional and aims to do everything perfectly. i think he’d also prefer a vb related job just like bokuto but something that could really get him somewhere big, smth to do with olympics like a paid internship for them .. can you even intern for the olympics lmao?? maybe something for the japanese team. it’s a lot of work to balance school & intern life but he’s very comitted and knows it’ll benefit him in the future. (kageyama was fuming when he found out he could have done that instead of his current gig).

tendou satori: has a job he’s very under-qualified for but somehow pulls off. he’s chilling at the hospital or law firm three times a week after classes or somewhere ridiculous but he’s doing just fine!! doesn’t actually do professional work n helps with small things but it impresses the hell out of everybody he tells, has no interest in persuing those careers but it’s fun for him, he gets paid VERY well for a boy his age and his personality creates a nice, talkative atmosphere in these seemingly tense environments.

miya atsumu / osamu: they both work at a café for novelty because they’re these handsome, athletic twins and it’s a thing that brings people in. they do a lot of fan service stuff and osamu is EXCELLENT like he was made for this job but atsumu is awful at keeping his cool. osamu will be chatting up customers, trying to persuade them to order more and atsumu is having a heated tustle with the coffee machine that’s broken down for the third time that day and it really ruins the magic osamu is trying to create. atsumu has probably sworn loudly. has probably almost been fired. he’s bad at playing along and flirting because he literally just wants them to leave so he can sit down lmao. osamu uses the pastries in the café as inspiration for his own at-home baking fiascos because it’s a stress-reliving hobby.

terushima yuji: he’s that boy in shoe shops that tries to sell you sneakers and he knows literally everything about them even when you really didn’t ask... looking to hit on girls that come in because shoe knowledge is obviously very sexy! alternatively you might catch him in a tattoo shop or sumn real appearance based and he definitely remembers all the regulars and greets them like they’re close friends, we’re talking inside jokes. always seems to know what tattoo people are looking to get purely based on their appearance and initial impression...

the list of unemployed:

yachi: too scared to do ANY job that requires interaction, she’s plagued by it.

hoshiumi: fired for picking too many fights with customers.

kyotani: EVEN WORSE THAN HOSHIUMI though he was strangely very efficient at paperwork.

suna: quit on the first day because it wasn’t what he expected and he doesn’t care about money that much.

lev: his family are like.... rich?? n nobody really expected it but he’s like yeah i really do not need one of those lmao.

yamaguchi: broke things, spilt things, smashed things. he really was trying his best..

aone: intimidated customers too much so they let him go (he was just STANDING THERE.. he deserved better).

sakusa: local venues are filthy, ushijima got the internship spot, no other job interests him enough to persue.

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu #haikyuu fics #haikyuu x reader #akaashi headcanons #haikyuu headcanon #kageyama headcanons #hinata headcanons #oikawa headcanons #kuroo headcanons #hq #i’m lazy with tags lol #bokuto headcanons #ushijima headcanons #kenma headcanons #good enough

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backtothestart02 · 3 years

Text

Hazy - 11/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Another chap! I hope you enjoy! It is sans Iris, since this whole fic is in Barry’s POV and Iris is obvs not with him atm. Hopefully it’s still an enjoyable read. Reviews are love!

Commissioned by @andie1223

...

Chapter 11 -

Linda paced back and forth frantically as she talked to the 911 operator about Joe’s condition while Barry did his best to keep Joe conscious and put pressure on the wound. In his heart, Barry knew this wasn’t real, this wasn’t the timeline he belonged in. It didn’t change the fact that this Joe West looked just as much as the one he knew, felt like him, loved like him. He couldn’t let him die. And he couldn’t shake the fact that if he’d had his speed, he would’ve been able to stop that bullet and keep Iris from being kidnapped. He would’ve been healed from Eddie’s beating him up just two days ago too.

“Come on, Joe, stay with me. Stay with me,” he repeated over and over.

Joe just nodded on the floor, trying to help him put pressure, but he was losing feeling in his limbs, and it was a fight to stay conscious.

“What the hell is taking so long?”

Barry reared his head up, glaring at Linda unintentionally.

“I don’t know,” she whisper-mouthed back, then repeated the insult into the phone to a far too calm operator, as far as the two of them were concerned.

Luckily though, paramedics burst through the door just shortly after and put Joe on a stretcher. Barry wanted to go with him. It was his first instinct. But given Linda had told the crime that had taken place over the phone, police also showed up and refused to let either of them leave until they’d taken their statements.

“He’s going to be fine,” one of the paramedics said, as they took Joe down the hall.

Barry really wanted to believe that.

After what felt like forever, both he and Linda were escorted out of her apartment, and it was taped off as a crime scene. Barry turned to Linda immediately, about to ask the inevitable, but she held up her hand.

“I’d drive you, Barry, I really would. But right now, I’m shaking so bad I don’t think-”

A stab of guilt hit him in the middle of his chest. Of course she’d be shaken up. She might not be close to Iris or Joe the way he was, but a gun had gone off in front of her, at someone she knew, and then someone else she knew had been dragged off.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, swallowing hard. “Do you have money for a cab?” he asked after a beat.

She managed to suppress a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, I have that much.”

They found their way out on the street and were able to hail a cab in no time at all. Traffic was brutal, but within half an hour they were let off at the hospital entrance.

Barry burst through the doors as Linda paid the cab driver and then followed him inside.

“He’s still in Emergency,” he told her, fuming after what the nurses had told him. “We can’t see him, because we’re not related.”

He was furious. He didn’t even know if he’d grown up in the same house with Iris and Joe in this reality, so he couldn’t push that angle with confidence. This was hell.

“Oh, Barry, I’m so sorry.”

He ran his hand through his hair with his good hand and forced himself to take a seat in the waiting room. Linda asked one of the nurses at the front desk for some water for herself and for Barry, which he refused, and then sat down beside him. She set the little paper cup of water on the small table between the chairs for when he was ready.

Barry couldn’t get a grip. He felt like an idiot. This whole time in this timeline he’d just been trying to cope, adjust, win Iris back somehow. He’d felt stuck. Never did it occur to him to make regaining his speed a priority. He’d been 100% focused on getting his relationship with Iris back on track. When he started to lose his speed, he figured that was at least something he could work towards. But now that he was injured and Iris was gone, Joe in critical condition…

He hated that he hadn’t just done that first, hadn’t tracked down Wells and Cisco and Caitlin to devise a plan, to convince them somehow to help him. Yet, thinking on it now, on how much of a one-track mind he had when it came to Iris, he couldn’t imagine him doing things any other way if he had the opportunity to try again.

Linda shifted beside him, and it was enough to pull him from his thoughts.

“How are you doing?” he forced himself to ask, her well-being the furthest thing from his mind, but he knew it was important.

She forced a smile and held up her hand.

“Not shaking anymore, so that’s good. I think it helped to get out of my apartment. Though…I don’t know where I’ll stay until the investigation is resolved.” She frowned.

“You’ll stay with me,” he said instantly.

She looked up, surprised.

“Though…I don’t have a guest bedroom,” he admitted.

“I do well on couches,” she informed him, resting her hand on his constantly moving arm to still him. “I’m short.”

He forced a smile from that, then licked his lips. He had to tell somebody about the timeline he was from, and he knew she was the only one left he could tell. He didn’t know if she’d believe him – who would? But it was worth a shot.

“Thanks, Barry. I don’t know what I’d do withou-”

“Do you believe in past lives?” he interrupted her.

She blinked.

“Uh…random topic.” He waited. “You mean, like…reincarnation?”

His lips twisted.

“No, not exactly… Like, say, you’re living your life and everything’s normal. Then you go to bed and when you wake up everything is different. It’s like a living nightmare that you can’t wake up from. Like a…new timeline on your life.” He frowned and looked up at her crestfallen face. “Does that make sense?”

“Barry.” She reached for his hand. “I know things seem really bad right now, and they are, but that doesn’t mean we won’t get through this. It doesn’t mean this isn’t your life.”

He looked away and sighed. He’d known it would be hard getting through to her. In the aftermath of something traumatic like a gunshot, maybe it was normal to imagine that this wasn’t the life you thought you were living. He didn’t want her committing him to a mental hospital though, so he chose his words carefully.

“Do you have any money left?”

She frowned.

“Some. Why?”

“There’s somewhere I need to be.”

She rose to her feet as he did, blocking his path to the exit.

“What about…Mr. West? Don’t you want to be here when he wakes up?”

He swallowed. He did, but suddenly he’d realized that if he was going to fix what a mess this had all turned out to be, he was going to have to do it alone.

“Can you stay here?” he asked gently.

She blanched. “Me?”

He nodded.

“Why me? He doesn’t even know me. He met me like a minute before he got shot!”

“I…I know.” He tried to soothe her by squeezing one shoulder. “But there’s somewhere I’ve got to be, and it’ll help Joe in the long run. And Iris and…hell, even Eddie.” His lips twisted. “Maybe.”

“Talk to me, Barry. What are you up to?”

He shook his head.

“I need to do this by myself.”

“In your condition? Your pain meds are going to wear off any second now. Then what are you going to do?”

He shrugged helplessly.

“No, no, I am coming with you on whatever crazy adventure you’ve cooked up in your head. I’m coming with you, and that’s final.”

“Linda-”

“Barry-”

The staredown didn’t last long.

“I need to go to STAR Labs,” he finally said.

“The laboratory? Why? Do you know someone there?”

He sighed. “I…used to.”

“What do you mean you u-” She held up a hand to stop both of them from that line of thought. “You know what, nevermind, if that’s where you need to go, then that’s where we’ll go.”

“I really don’t think you should come, Linda,” he tried again, but she was having none of it.

“Well, that’s just too bad, Barry Allen, because I promised you I would take care of you until you were all healed up, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing.”

He pursed his lips, then said, “Okay…”

“Okay, then, let’s go. I’ll call the cab when we get outside. It’s getting crowded in here anyway.”

And then she was out the door, not even waiting for him, but getting on her phone as soon as she was outside, just like she’d said she would.

Barry went to the front desk again and left both of their numbers with the nurse, asking that one or both of them be contacted once Joe was settled in his hospital room or set for release. One of the nurses was a bit of a stickler about how they were bound to be too busy by whatever point that was, but a young nurse cut in and assured him she would make a point of reaching out.

Barry decided to take that with a grain of salt and forced a smile of gratitude before turning around to an impatient Linda, who was waiting by a cab outside.

“STAR Labs,” she told the cab driver once they were inside. “And make it quick!” she said when the guy raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered under his breath, then took off out onto the street.

Barry didn’t say a word, just sat with his head against the window the whole way there. He kept his hands to himself incase Linda would try to comfort him again. He couldn’t afford that right now. He needed a plan, and he knew there was only one person he could get it from.

Dr. Harrison Wells.

…

The laboratory building loomed large when they arrived. It was bigger than Barry remembered, and bustling when they got inside. The crowd seemed to be a mix of visitors and employees, and it dawned on him then that maybe the STAR Labs Museum was operational at this point. But if that was the case, why did the cab driver seem so surprised at their location.

“Museum will be closing in five minutes. Please finish what you are doing and find your way to the exit. Have a great rest of your day!”

Caitlin.

That was her voice alright, and it sounded so…chipper. He wondered if Ronnie was still alive in this timeline, and if he was about to wreck her entire life by making him dead again if he changed things.

Barry weaved through the people, abandoning Linda unceremoniously to get to the customer service desk where, in all her glory, stood the chipper Dr. Caitlin Snow guiding people graciously to the exit with her outstretched arm.

“Caitlin?”

She froze and searched the crowd for who had called her name, and so casually at that. Barry strode forward so he was directly in front of the counter she stood behind. She tilted her head in confusion.

“It’s uh, actually Doctor Snow,” she corrected, pointing to her clip-on nametag. “Do we know each other? The museum’s about to close for the day. You can come back tomorrow though!” she said brightly. “10am sharp.” She smiled.

“I’m not here for the museum.”

She frowned. “Oh? Then what are you here for?”

“Caitlin! Caitlin, Caitlin!” A flustered, suited up Cisco Ramon came sliding in, in between them, and then completely blocked Barry’s vision. “We have an emergency in Room 102,” he said under his breath. “If you know what I mean…”

Her eyes widened. “Cisco, what do y-?” Her eyes narrowed and then widened again, according to whatever face Cisco was making. “Oh. Ohh.”

“Yeah, so if you could stop flirting for two seconds, I would-”

She scoffed. “I was not flirting. I was-”

“I don’t want to hear it. You’re just lucky Ronnie’s not hear to see it.”

“See what?!”

But he’d tugged her from behind the counter and was dragging her away.

“Sorry, Mister, museum’s closing for the day. Come back tomorrow. Oh, and she’s engaged!” Cisco called back to an offended Barry. “Find somebody else.”

Barry scoffed, irritated by his best friend from another life and his assumptions. If it was his real timeline, he would never-

“I think they’re closing,” Linda said, finally having found him.

Barry sighed. “Yeah, I got that much.”

“Should we go?” she asked, looking around at everyone leaving.

But Barry was determined.

“No. There’s got to be someone else here who can help.”

“Help with what? Your…other life?” she asked, only half-jokingly, really wanting to be entirely joking, he guessed.

So he ignored that, searching instead for another employee, one he did not have any personal relationship with in another life and could help him somehow.

“Excuse me, sir, it’s time to leave.”

Ugh. Not who he was hoping for.

Hartley Rathaway appeared before the two of them. There was no kindness on his face, no politeness. Just determination to stick to the rules and get anyone resisting out by force if necessary.

Probably just by insulting them though, if Barry had to guess.

“Actually, I was hoping you could help me before I go.”

Resigned to the inevitable, Hartley folded his hands in front of him.

“With what exactly, sir?”

“I’d like to set up a meeting with Dr. Harrison Wells.”

Hartley laughed. Just once. Just to show how incredulous of a request it was to his ears.

“Uh, I’m sorry, Mr.?”

“Allen. Barry Allen.”

“Right, Mr. Allen. Dr. Wells does not do meet and greets with civilians. So, if you were hoping to get his autograph…or something? Just, wait for his next book signing. It should be listed on the website. I’m sure you know what that is.”

Barry’s brows narrowed.

“I’m not some sort of…star-struck fan needing an autograph,” he said, even as he realized the irony of his words, because that was in fact who he was once upon a time.

“No? Well then, you won’t find it hard taking no for an answer then.”

“But-”

He reached for the microphone behind the counter.

“Museum is now closed. Please find the exit.” He paused for emphasis. “Now.”

Barry scoffed, but Hartley had no more time for him. He backed away and went to anyone else he saw in the main lobby, ushering them in a gentle manner towards the exit.

“Unbelievable.”

“Maybe we should go?” Linda urged, and Barry sighed.

She had a point, but had he really come all this way just to…give up?

“We can come back tomorrow. Maybe you’ll have better luck then.”

He hung his head, then nodded.

“Yeah, maybe.”

She looped her arm through his, then tugged him towards the doors they’d come through on entering the building.

“Come on, I told the cab driver to wait.”

Barry suppressed a groan. Had she had that little faith in him? He supposed he couldn’t blame her.

“Do you have-”

“Enough to get us back to the hospital? Yeah.” She rubbed his arm encouragingly. “Mr. West should be waking up soon. You’ll want to be there.”

He nodded and followed her into the cab, looking back at the glass-encased building only once before focusing back on the road, unaware of a pair of steely eyes behind glasses watching him closely as he disappeared from sight of the STAR Labs front window.

#westallen #fanfiction #westallen fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #hazy #chapter 11 #fic commissions #for andie1223

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douxie-casperan · 4 years

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I’ve been thinking a lot about timings, specifically Douxie in Arcadia in regards to just the Trollhunter’s series and generally what he was up to at the time. He was clearly in the area before we saw him in Season 3 though his day to day was shown more by comparison in 3Below and thus thanks to an initial ramble in the tags I decided to go ahead and figure things out that make most logical sense to me and could well be completely wrong. As you do.

Prior to the start of Trollhunters it is very unlikely there would have been too many problems as all factions were largely keeping to themselves and under the radar of the others. However after Kanjigar fell, Bular was a LOT more active in Arcadia because of hunting down Jim and in turn because of trying to stop the Killahead project Jim was most active within town it's self at weird hours. As a result this greatly increases the run in risk with Douxie’s own night time wanderings however regular they were for dealing with non-troll related beings that are likely being attracted by the native magic (Ley-line) of the place. The changelings could clear up the messes a certain troll left behind, sure, but somebody who knows enough about trolls would start putting two and two together that the dynamic had shifted somehow and not in a particularly good way.

The easiest way to solve this problem would Douxie happening to be out of the area at the time and quite handily in his first appearance Claire mentions a tidbit that could easily do just that: Ash Dispersal Pattern was the opening act for at least one Papa Skull concert (Highly likely the one she went to with Steve) and it'd make sense to be fronting for more than one and it would keep him safely out the area for a while. After Bular is killed, it is much easier to again hand wave Team Trollhunter and Douxie/the hedge-witches simply not running into one another when something was happening on the Surface given the locations various things tended to happen with a lot less environmental destruction compared to recent times.

In the first episode of Season 3 we see the kids have been placing warded signs under the guise of supporting Ophelia's campaign to help ward off Gumm-Gumms and that’s a giant neon sign something is there you're trying to protect for anybody with any magical knowledge. It's unknown how long they have been doing this though given Claire and Jim are planting them in the neighbourhood it's likely they started branching out after experimenting with the original hiding spot for Trollmarket (If with a few hiccups given one troll managed to stumble over them anyway) pretty recently which gives ample time for the source to be spotted before the sudden increase.

It stands to reason that around this period is when Douxie would have likely picked up there was now a human teenager running around as the current Trollhunter which I have no doubt he did side eye a bit as uh what and that Trollmarket had an emergency exodus to the Surface even if not knowing the reasoning behind either. Word will be passed on but it's still troll politics at the end of the day, nothing to do with us but worth keeping tabs on.

A few days maximum prior too will be also when a new unknown witch in Arcadia was noticed (Something I touched on here) whom he could just have easily innocently passed in the street. With Zoe's help they would be able to slowly pin down a bit more information (Teenager, likely in High School so gotta check 'em all) until through using Battle of the Bands as a ruse find out that person is Claire. Jim’s attempts at dissuading her joining in (The so-called ”after school activities”) would have confirmed any suspicion that she was also part of Team Trollhunter too which would stand out given they tended to be more solitary in that job role. While he did use very archaic terms (To us), he was being exceedingly respectful of another unknown magic user as appearance is no judge for true age as he proves himself.

Douxie is not seen again until he's on waiter duty at Mr. Benoit's and it's likely thanks to Darci's presence they don't fudge any mention of Trollhunting duties and not give him any tip offs/confirmation that Toby is also involved. Claire's initial outburst would have been very ?? but if you've been in customer service long enough it's a bit on the worrying side sure but not an immediate red flag. That said given the complete change in demeanour afterwards with very wrong vibes being given off to boot that would have been a whole nother kettle of fish easily leading to stealth texted Zoe while back inside say a bit of a situation was developing with the new witch and how best to handle it. I actually had a rough mention of this scenario here.

The next time he would see them, in passing or otherwise, whatever the situation was has been resolved thanks to the help of Strickler meaning whatever plans they had to research more or help would have been rendered unneeded which is good or bad depending on how you look at it. This would also mean the other magic users of Arcadia remained completely in the dark that both Morgana is actively in play and that she was right there in front of Douxie without him even realising it.

Author note: Due to the weirdness of the in the UK aired version, I cannot accurately speculate on Douxie seeing 100% possessed Claire as there are two jump cuts. The first during the bathroom scene just after Morgana leaves the mirror then where it then suddenly jumps to showing a few seconds of "I feel like a whole new girl" then a second jump to everybody walking home. I think there was a "Silence, peasant" in there from gif sets I've seen but aside from that I genuinely have no idea! Tried to do my best with what I know for certain.

Then you get the Eternal Night and ho boy this is precisely why I’m writing about it in a one shot and have previously had a mention of the situation here as well. Given Douxie’s outburst at the start of Wizards it stands to reason that Merlin never contacted him and this poor guy in turn had absolutely no idea that he’d awoken nor was in Arcadia. This meant that he (And very likely Hex-Tech too) were completely caught out when it hit which would match up with his being completely without the bracelet leaving him to defend Mary and Darci with a freaking flying kick and belting a Gumm-Gumm with his guitar. Honestly it does show he's not defenceless without it but damn what an entrance. Plus the little slip up with calling the attacker twits, that wouldn’t have registered with the girls but had Claire or Toby still been there? Oh that’d have been very interesting as that is not a term you know without knowing outting him on the spot very much like how it did for us as viewers. Alas they were elsewhere, his secret remains intact.

It’s very possible during this entire mess he might have seen Morgana too, distantly perhaps but very there given her colour of magic and the golds are very distinctive, leading to one very awful blast from the past but right now your focus has to be on getting these kids and any other stragglers to safety because that is where you can help right now and not on the field. Head down, keep going and freak out about it later. Oh and whenever get a spare minute text Zoe to check both she and any of the Coven in the area currently are holding up okay and if they need backup.

At the very least none of them would have to pretend they don't know what trolls are anymore, handy given at least two plus the two changelings who stayed behind though the same hat syndrome between Strickler and Douxie would be an absolute goldmine about now if they hadn't manage to have a run in prior. I am a simple person, I find the concept hilarious.

Finally there is one other little issue needs resolving. After the arrival in flying Camelot, Douxie much like the others appears far more worried about seeing Jim inside a crystal and not about the fact he's no longer human. Steve? There’s every possibility he found out along with Eli at some point from Toby but in the wizard's case, he would never have been in that friend (Or even kinda) circle to get that bit of information nor does Merlin pull him aside to mention it either. That leads me to suspect he may have briefly glimpsed Jim during the battle and put two and two together much like Aja did that they are the same person. It’s highly unlikely he knew of the Eclipse armour existence given how secretive Merlin tends to be (Plus he was 19 at the time not to mention a bit of a disaster but we love him anyway) however there would be absolutely no mistakening that it is the Trollhunter in a new coat... and new bluer form. Follow that train of thought enough and it leads to the fact there is only one person alive that could have pulled that one off: The very same one who created the amulet in the first place.

Oops.

#History in the making - Headcanons #They won't remember me #Team Trollhunter #Master Merlin #Tales of Arcadia #Trollhunters #ToA #Wizards #ToAWizards #[In which once again the Mun will not shut up]

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allicekitty13 · 4 years

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In 1987 Jasper and Alice meet at the local country club. With all the cards stacked against them can they find their way to happiness?

Read On Ao3

Read On FFN

Let em' say we're crazy, I don't care about that. Put your hand in my hand baby, don't ever look back. Let the world around us, just fall apart. Baby, we can make it if we're heart to heart.

"Don't you have a shift today Whitlock?" The voice rousing Jasper from his sleep was accompanied by a dirty shirt being thrown at his head. The man opened one eye squinting against the bright sunshine currently streaming through his window to look at his best friend Peter leaning against the doorframe of his currently open bedroom door.

"Pete," The twenty-one year old groaned. "The fuck did we do last night?" Jasper remembered they'd decided to go out. He remembered Peter and Charlotte going off to do god knows what. Well, the man had a pretty good idea of what but preferred not to think about it. He definitely remembered the line of shots he'd done with his favorite bartender, Mara. But anything after his seventh Alabama Slammer was either extremely fuzzy or a black spot in his memory entirely. Judging by the way his head was pounding, the sick feeling in his stomach, and the intense craving for a nice greasy burger from McDonald's, it was really no wonder why he struggled to recall the events.

"We got drunk." Peter shrugged. "You know, like we do every Friday. But really man, you gotta get up. It's after noon."

"Haven't you any sympathy for the hungover?" Jasper rolled over as he spoke to lay on his stomach wanting nothing more than to close his eyes and sleep the condition off. Maybe to venture to the living room couch at some point and watch re-runs of sitcoms from the 70's on the sole TV in the apartment.

"Not when I know you have to be at work in an hour. Rent doesn't pay itself, dude." With that, Peter left his friend alone to the misery of a bad hangover. Daring to open one eye, flinching at the still too bright sun, Jasper spared a glance to the digital radio/alarm clock sitting on the messy bedside table next to him. Although blurry, he could faintly make out the time of 2:13pm. That information caused him to awaken, fully sobering up in an instant.

Peter was right; he did in fact, have a shift soon. In approximately forty-five minutes soon. He would have to skip a shower, something his co-workers wouldn't be too happy about operating in such close quarters without air conditioning. That was nothing compared to the fancy customers he served at the country club who didn't exactly need an excuse to complain. Luckily it was Saturday afternoon, and most of his interactions would involve nothing more than shoving cans of Coors or Tab into coolers for the members to take out to the tennis courts or golf course.

Jasper threw on the polo style shirt he kept around specifically for the stuffy dress code required at the establishment and his cleanest, least beaten up pair of jeans. He quickly brushed his teeth and hopped into his beat-up 75' Gremlin hoping to make the thirty-minute journey in twenty.

Fate, as always, wasn't in the man's favor and he ended up being late. Only by about five minutes, but the glare Angela shot him when he finally arrived to take over the bar caused Jasper to feel as though he'd shown up hours tardier than expected. Once the irritated Angela rushed off to god knows where Jasper busied himself with making sure glasses were clean and everything well stocked for when the night shift arrived in five hours.

Of course, Angela being exceptionally organized and great at her job had, as usual, left very little for Jasper to actually take care of. He often wondered why she spent her time working at the club rather than going to college, but at the end of the day, they weren't really friends. The way Jasper saw it, her personal life was none of his business. If she didn't want to share, he wasn't going to ask. So with everything taken care of, the man figured he might as well venture over to the kitchen for a chat with the equally bored cook Emmett.

Jasper liked the slightly older man; he was a pretty solid dude. Emmett was trying to save up enough money to buy his girlfriend, Rosalie, an engagement ring. So a few months ago picked up a side gig working at the club as a fry cook. Emmett was hard-working, funny, and one of the most genuine people Jasper had ever met. They'd butted heads at first, having vastly different upbringing and thus outlooks on life. Still, over the past few months of working together at the establishment, Jasper found himself looking forward to Saturday shifts exclusively for their engaging talks.

Once he'd double checked to make sure there were no more menial tasks to take care of, Jasper swaggered into the kitchen and plopped upon an empty counter, ignoring the way his friend shook his head at the antics. They had a usual back and forth. Emmett warning the other man that if their boss were to walk in, not only would Jasper receive yet another meaningless warning about cutting his hair. Both parties would be lectured on how inappropriate it was for anyone, let alone an employee, to be acting so unprofessional in the workplace.

Of course, Jasper being reckless had received countless amounts of these warnings. The truth of the matter was that employees were hard to keep. High schoolers could only work so many hours, and most adults willing to take on such a job were quickly worn by the entitled attitude the customer's attracted to such an establishment possessed. Needless to say, turnover rates were high. Management couldn't afford to lose anyone for something like a haircut or unconventional seating choices.

So, as always, Jasper kept his place on the counter, chatting with Emmett about their respective weeks. Rosalie had recently taken a job at The Gap for an excuse to spend more time at the mall that her father couldn't argue with. Emmett had needed to replace yet another part on his frequently failing vehicle setting him back yet again on those engagement ring plans. And Jasper's band had finally scored an opening gig at one of the better-known bars in the area. Sure it wasn't headlining, but for the unknown musician, it was a big deal.

After just short of an hour of conversation, Jasper was in the middle of excitedly going rambling about his dreams of getting away from the California suburbs. Of how he wanted to pack up and head down to Los Angeles and the fabled Sunset Strip, when the bell at the bar counter rang, signaling a customer was waiting for his presence.

What he expected was another irritated woman, upset that she'd had to wait more than thirty seconds for another Tab. Possibly even a man who would chastise him because he paid hundreds of dollars for his families club membership. A fact that the members assumed meant they should somehow receive instant service. What he hadn't anticipated was the absolute goddess waiting patiently at the counter.

She was short, with permed chin-length black hair that she teased her fingers through as she leaned against the counter, talking animatedly with a younger girl. When he stepped behind the bar, she looked over at him with a bright, breathtaking smile. The girl uttered only four words, "Two Coke Classics, please." in her high pitched musical voice. They were spoken pleasantly, and her attention had been redirected to him entirely, in stark contrast to what he was used to. Typically customers would bark their orders in the mans' general direction before immediately resuming conversing with their companions.

It could have been the breath of fresh air that her attitude brought. Potentially the reason may have been how entirely simple Jasper found it to get lost in her clear blue eyes. In either instance, Jasper must have stood frozen, staring for too long as the girl frowned slightly, her eyes glancing up at the nametag clipped to his shirt collar. "Jasper?" She spoke again, concern lacing her words rather than annoyance.

His name on her lips sparked him into action, "My apologies, ma'am." He finally spoke, reaching into the belly cooler behind him for her order with butterflies beginning to swarm in his stomach.

#Jalice #alice cullen #jasper hale #Twilight #twilight fic

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vmfx · 4 years

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FRACTURE.

I had a bad right shoulder. I had it for most of my life. It occurred as I rode my bike and somewhat somehow lost control, causing myself to hurl over the front of the bike and land shoulder first onto the concrete. Somewhere along the healing process I happened to be unlucky: both the bone and muscle grew into each other which caused atrophy and severely limited the movement of my arm. Tiny shards of bone also were given birth and settled within my shoulder, pinching the nerves and muscle resulting in sharp stings equivalent of electrodes shooting through my right arm. I have had two operations to remove the shards but was told by my orthopedist that the shoulder could not be fully repaired. Looking at pictures of myself, you would not suspect that there’s physically wrong with me and on the surface things actually do look normal, but in reality they are not.

I also had this job that deals directly to the public mostly focusing in basic goods, nothing special. There was no intelligent discourse about statistics, proper methods, Fibonacci spirals, hexa-decimals, or blueprints. None. Instead, the core audience of patrons were simpletons, idiots, and know-nothings. The belligerent, the feisty, and the damp fish-wives who couldn’t be told anything. People who magically believed were royalty and constantly demanded, repeated themselves, or argued to the death over the most inconsequential things. People who were way too nice, non-specific, or simply went blank because they usually had no clue. So this should tell you about the mentality of some of our customers.

Put the two together and the cards thrown at me is putting up with the absolute worst in people I ever have the misfortune of dealing with.

One afternoon I took the next customer. She was a fading middle-aged woman with a tye-dye shirt. After I take her number and started helping her, she brought up the issue of my shoulder.

“Hey…um, what happened to your shoulder?”

“Ma’am, don’t worry about it---“

“Because I notice you are---“

And then she started impersonating me. Her interpretation of me, which I never even opened my mouth to her for, was this over-exaggerating heaving and hobbling over on one side a la the Hunchback of Notre Dame, as her eyes almost rolled to the back of her head and her mouth wide open as if she was gasping for breath. Yes, that was her version of me, because I really needed to know someone else’s vision of what I look like when I am walking around in public.

And I just stood there watching her make a fool of herself, entertaining but ultimately embarrassing herself in the process. My eyes were locked in position. My face was in disdain. I looked to move on but she wanted to complete her curiosity, something I absolutely refused to entertain.

“Ma’am, what else would you like?”

“But what happened to your shoulder?”

“Ma’am, what else would you like?”

“Ummm, I…”

“Ma’am, what else would you like?”

“Ohhh…I didn’t mean to—-“

“Ma’am, what else would you like?”

Yes, it took me four tries to see what else she needed because she was that stupid. Four tries before she realized how much of a nosy, insensitive, ignorant misfire she was. Four tries before her whole world started moving again and left her dumbstruck self behind. She finally given up and told me the rest of her order before she said something about an apology and really feeling sorry, which she should have.

If not for my managers being present at that moment, I would have lashed out at her. But I held onto everything I could and stopped short of humiliating her in return to not strike out and get fired on the job.

I gave her the final part of her order. As she spent her one last attempt at saving herself, I quickly walked away, abandoning her and throwing her out for good.

**********

Poor examples like that are exactly why I never bring my shoulder issue up. I don’t need to drop everything I am doing to waste my time, energy, and wind on explaining something most people will forget about in five minutes…something which is none of their business in the first place.

Most of these people don’t get it. They are trained and taught to see and learn certain things around them by the books, TV, or movies on a regular basis. When they do notice or see something that’s not normal to them, they turn into invasive idiots. Idiots, who instead of keeping to themselves and figure it out on their own, need the easy answers fed to them right there and now. They only seem or pretend to care, and if they really did, they could offer some real help in the form of a calling card to an orthopaedist instead of spending that time looking like a deer in truck headlights.

That person that I dealt with chose to be uneducated, misunderstanding, and foolish. She settled to make a quick laugh out of my expense by showing me how I acted in public, and in return I showed her exactly just how unfunny and pathetic she really was.

**********

But that’s not all.

Another moron customer asked me what was wrong with my shoulder. I respectfully told her that I was not allowed to talk about my personal issues. As I walked away, I overheard her get the attention of another co-worker who was doing something more important and asked her about me and my shoulder. I almost lost it. Here was someone, whose blank mind couldn’t take “no” for an answer and decided to run through the backdoor for the win after being told to get lost. The ninth-rate know-nothing who had a lack of personal respect and the inability to mind her business couldn’t move on without the answer to those urgent burning questions.

Yet time had passed and the intrusiveness and nosiness had gotten even worse. Mostly it comes from the town where I work, and it seems like my situation has now become a fascination to the point where it’s now becoming increasing creepy and disgusting.

I recently had a situation where I came out of my car and walked across the parking lot to get to work. I was approached by a man who stood in the middle of said parking lot. He asked me for directions and at first I thought he was a mild-mannered person. When I was in the middle of answering him he interrupted me and asked about my injury. I just shook my head, walked away, and said nevermind. As I walked away from him, he followed me and still questioned me about it. Directions were no longer on his mind as he now asked me what was wrong and was still flustered to. He was constantly apologizing to me to the point where he was stammering but I wanted absolutely none of it as I walked right into work. The human question-mark finally stopped short at the entrance as he was left behind and already forgotten about, never to be paid attention to again; Another situation declared a dead issue as far as I was concerned. But nothing could compare to what else I had experienced:

One afternoon I decided to get some peanut-butter cups around the corner down the block to the highway gas station. When I walked down the service road I see that someone was slowing down while driving past me in a beat-up pickup but I thought nothing of it. About fifty feet from my destination I look up to find that same driver, who happened to be very interested in my injury and my personal life, literally waiting for me at the door in front of the gas station. The closer I approached the entrance was when I noticed him ogling at me with his mouth half-open in such fascination. He started asking about my injury for a good fifteen seconds before he put me through repeated assurance to help equate his childlike curiosity before I was allowed into the store.

Maybe the world would be a better place if people would mind their own fucking business and let others be.

(An expired story.)

#VMFX #writing #wow #WTF #oops #Long Island #personal #health

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