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theroseredreaper · 1 year

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A New Beginning

Twisted Wonderland

Deuce overheard his mom speaking on the phone to his grandmother one night. Her words that night play in his head over and over again.

Word Count: 1842 ✯ AO3 Version

Characters: Deuce Spade, Deuce’s mom

Tags: Character Study, Light Angst, Minor Story Spoilers for cards and main story details to pertain to Deuce’s backstory, a few lines of dialogue lifted directly from main story

(A/N): This is my event entry for the prompt “New Beginnings” by @briarvalleyarchives ! I am…not very creative with titles…I hope you enjoy this short piece on Deuce and a brief look into his life before he would have received his letter from NRC.

“All I ever did in middle school was screw around… I was a terrible person that went as far as to use magic to lord over those who couldn’t.

Then, one night…I saw my mom hiding away tears as she called my grandma.

‘Was the way I raised him wrong?’

Even though none of it was her fault…

I swore that I would never make her cry again.”

Deuce slouched at his desk as he stared blearily ahead at the whiteboard, the writing on the board some assignment or other he couldn’t be bothered to focus on reading right now. The chatter of his classmates, whispering amongst themselves about his presence in the room, was nothing but a buzz of white noise as he mulled over the conversation he’d overheard his mom having with his grandma on the phone last night.

“Is it my fault for not being there for him more?” she’d all but sobbed into the phone.

“Tch.”

He scowled at the memory, scoffing at the classmates that flinched away from his glare. Exhaling and forcing his face to relax, he turned his back on them to stare out the window and watch the clouds, like his mom had taught him to when he got too irritated to contain it.

“Was the way I raised him wrong?”

He forced his jaw to unclench as the morning bell rang, forcefully focusing on the clouds while the teacher called roll.

“And now Spade, who - huh? Spade? You’re here today?”

He glanced over to find his home room teacher slack-jawed, the untrusting stares of his classmates crawling all over him.

“Well,” his teacher coughed, poorly attempting to compose himself, “if even the infamous Deuce Spade of all you failures can bother showing up for once, then maybe there’s hope for the rest of you lot making it to graduation yet.”

Deuce’s hands clenched as he focused on watching the clouds.

“Would it have been better if he had both parents?”

The morning lecture droned on too fast for him to grasp anything well enough to take notes that would make any remote sense. The class work that got passed around, when his classmates even bothered to give him a handout, might as well have been written with instructions done in gibberish.

“I…,” her voice cracked, dropping to such a whisper that Deuce had to strain his ears, “I feel like a stranger to him…I don’t…”

The whispers of his classmates….the whispers of his teachers…whispering, whispering about his presence in class, whispering about his “half-assed notes,” his “piss-poor class work,” whispering “Spade’s here? A fight’s sure to break out soon…”

“I don’t know how to reach him anymore…”

He bolted the minute the lunch bell rang, the patrolling teachers too used to his routine to even bother trying to stop him from jumping the school’s chain link fence. Some students hollered “Good riddance!” after him as he ran. Some of his fellow delinquents cheered and called out to him as he ran.

“I…I don’t want to give up on my baby…”

The voices all faded, one by one, until the only sound was that of his sneakers hitting the pavement and the surf of the sea that bordered town.

“When did I go wrong?”

Running, running, running…

“How did I…get to this point?”

Running, running until he reached the familiar shore on the edge of town that no one bothered visiting because it was more mangrove roots than an actual beach. Running until his knees hit the sand, face staring up at the clouds above as he shouted, “HOW DID I GET HERE?! WHAT AM I - ?!“

His lungs heaved as he slammed his hands down with a shout, sucking in air, “HOW COULD SHE THINK ITS HER FAULT?! I - I’M THE ONE WHO - WHO’S - !”

His fists clenched around sand, squeezing and squeezing until bits of shell and shards of pebbles dug painfully into his palms, a growl of aggravated frustration tearing from his throat as the tide came in and washed the sand out from under his fists and soaked his clothes.

“I don’t want to give up on my baby…”

The fight in him washed away with the receding tide, his shoulders slumping as he allowed himself one sniffle, sitting back on his heels.

“I’m the one who…I’m the one who’s been screwing around…And…And for what? Cuz sitting around in school was lame? Cuz doing projects and festivals was stupid?”

His fists clenched around the sand again, but it was loose and slipped through his fingers quickly in the ebb and flow of the afternoon high tide.

“I don’t understand any of the shit in class now…”

The ebb and flow of the waves nudged at him like a silent friend listening to all his deepest worries, like it always did. The sea never judged him.

“Ugh!” He scrubbed through his hair in a fit of irritation, but the sight of his bleached hair just made him even more agitated. “How could she think…?! I was the one…! I was the one who got a big head when the seniors showed me how to use my magic in a fight! I was the one who got a big head when they called me cool and showed me how to skip class! I was the one who…! Who…!”

His breath hitched as he remembered the ones who would flinch away from him in fear. The ones who would always shout “Good riddance!” whenever he’d leave to skip class for the day. Of the magicless classmates that’d pale if he so much as breathed in their direction. Of the teachers who gave up on him, one by one, and began instead to name him the culprit for every wrong doing he never did anytime something happened in school.

“I don’t want to give up on my son, mom. Don’t you dare say that about Deuce.”

He’d never picked a fight himself. He was in them all the time, sure, but he never actually started them himself. Sure, he looked down on the magic-less, but he never actually hurt anybody. He would never…he wasn’t that kind of person. He didn’t go around harassing people. He didn’t…

“Maybe I went wrong somewhere. Maybe I should have been there for him more. But I…Sevens, why did I call you? I don’t want to give up on my son, mom. Don’t you dare say that about Deuce.”

He didn’t hurt people on purpose. He wasn’t a malicious person. He only ever wanted to be like the seniors he looked up to. He backed his friends up in fights. But, at some point…those friends…

“Deuce isn’t like that. No, I don’t know how to reach him. But I don’t want to give up on my baby. My baby isn’t like what they say and you know it.”

At some point, it always led to his friends dragging him into the wrong places at the wrong time more often than he was really comfortable with. At some point, it led to him not understanding any of the lectures in class anymore. At some point, it led to all his classmates being scared of him.

At some point, it led to no one believing in him.

“I’m not going to give up on my son.”

No one believed in him anymore. No one except that officer that always seemed to be around to give him an alibi to prove his innocence and the one who refused to give up on him despite it all…

“Mom…?”

She stood, wind-swept and still in her work uniform, in the shadows of where the sidewalk met the beach sand. She smiled, a weary, strained tug of lips that made his eyes sting, that stole any words he might have tried to say.

“I thought I might find you here. You’ve had a long day, yeah? You’ve always come here whenever something was extra bad. Let’s head home. I’ll make your favorites.”

Deuce nodded, swallowing painfully around the lump in his throat as he took her hand. She looked up at him in surprise and it hurt more than he wanted to admit. Her eyes tried to search his, but he was too ashamed to meet her gaze.

She sighed; a soft, fond sound. Just for him.

The drying salt of his pants clung to his legs, a scratchy feeling that grounded him just as much as his soaked socks and sneakers. They walked in silence, hand in hand like they used to, before he began insisting that he was much too grown and much too tough of man to be seen doing such prissy things as doting on his mom.

Before he began bleaching his hair, before he began wearing leopard print jackets, before he began wearing clip-on piercings, before he began wearing eyeliner to make himself look tough and before he ever began skipping classes.

“What…have I been doing with myself this whole time?”

By the time they reached home, their yard was cast in the orange glow of the setting sun and their mailbox was cracked open from the day’s post delivery. The two of them parted ways so that Deuce could unlock the door while his mom retrieved the mail.

A gasp startled him, so much so that he fumbled and dropped the keys, but he had no mind for the keys when he was too busy with what could have possibly shocked his mom like that.

His mom was holding a black envelope with a white wax seal, a stately raven printed right in the middle of it. He’d seen that exact letter before. He’d seen that exact same envelope before, in the hands of seniors past, who’d brought it with them to school to show off to anyone who’d look, to anyone who’d listen.

Boasting that the Night Raven College had reached out to recruit them for their magic.

His mother’s hands trembled as she fumbled to open the letter, her eyes just as wide as his were.

Boasting that entry into Night Raven College, on that Sage’s Island, was by invite only.

The letter in her hands shook so much that Deuce had to wonder if she could even read it properly, let alone process anything that it said.

Boasting of a school for elite mages, that those who were lucky to manifest magic could only ever dream of attending.

The shout of pure joy, the smile that stretched from ear to ear, left no doubt in Deuce that the letter was really meant for him, of all people. Him, the delinquent. Him, the one who wasn’t even sure he could even envision going to high school.

Him, who made his mother cry for him.

As his mom cried again that evening, letter crushed between them as she hugged him close, hugged him so tight that he felt like she was trying to prove to himself that he truly was in her grasp, in her reach…he couldn’t help but think…

This was a new beginning that he desperately needed.

Likes and reblogs are always loved and appreciated!

#twst deuce #deuce spade #twst deuce spade #twst fanfic #twst fanfiction #character study #twisted wonderland deuce spade #twisted wonderland fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #briarvalleyarchives #deuce spade character study

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memories-beneath-the-skin · 13 minutes

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Dad and I walking grandma's farm before she passed. All the buildings except for the main house in various states of failure.

Frosty clouds from our breath, walking into the old pole barn that had the old chicken annex long since torn away. Heavy double doors pinned open, thousands of pounds of rotten and broken timber walls and collapsing roof pressing down. A gentile breeze combined with a rain drop night collapse it.

Dad and I walk in, the corridor crooked, floor rotted and gaping and exposing the concrete 10 foot tall sub level that once held hay bales.

Dad looks up says this could come done on us. I tell him that if he is scared to wait outside, but we all die someday. He laughs says not like this, I laugh and say really? Maybe today.

My dad nervously laughs, Asks are you always this dark. I look at him, turn away, no dad I say, this is me optimistic.

Old chew containers everywhere, rusted tools nailed to the walls, old electrical conduit full of cobwebs.

I tell day it's beautiful, but not how I remember when I was little.

Straddling a thick cross beam, standing over the dark abyss of the lower level, I grip the paint chipped and frayed wooden wall, wondering if it will fall from my pressure and kill us but leaping to the other side not trusting the floor I hopped to.

Dad says son I'm not doing that.

I said dad you should be the one not me, mom gets life insurance from you, I die you have to pay to bury me.

Dad says you assume I wouldn't just leave you in here?

I laugh.

I see an old pair of snow shoes covered in thick spider webs and dust hanging on a nail, I walk over, a long black snake slides across my boot, being one of my worst fears I jump back, one foot stepping into the air over the failed floor and the other fractionally on the floor. Fast reaction I remembered a railroad spike half embedded in the support log to my left, lightning speed and without looking I reach out, my knuckles striking the wall, burying about 30 large splinters into my knuckles, fracturing my index finger, the spike tearing open a four inch jagged tear on the back of my hand.

Gripping onto it, feeling blood running down my flannel sleeve and absorbing into the fabric I am vaguely aware of my dad screaming my name almost inaudible against the sound of my heart pounding on my ears. With one arm rocket myself forward and into the back wall I once was. All the moment thinking I hope the snake isn't there anymore.

Standing in the deep shadows of the musty, almost collapsed barn I shook, my dad yelling it was just a snake.

I whisper.. Just a snake....

Dad pleading to know if I'm ok.

I squeeze my left fist, with all the different things that happened all at once I only felt fire. I told dad I'm just fine.

I grasp the snow shoes I found and toss it too him. He said they used to be his, I said they still are.

I realized I had my fill that day off old collapsing, 100 year old buildings with no second level floor stability and without further event we walked back outside.

I looked at my hand, it looked fucked up, I knew the splinters were going to be aweful later to pull out.

My dad asked to see, I told him I was fine, just needed a band aid (a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a large bandage over 5 butterfly sutures, held by cloth tape, a makeshift popsicle stick splint for my finger and 2 hours of slowly pulling out pieces of barn out of my knuckles that every moment almost made me pass out). Dad told me I had a very lapsed judgment of what a band aid could do. I told him he was the medical professional of the family.

Backtracking to post barn, me with left hand hiding in flannel sleeve so dad did not worry we walk the old cow pastures. These are not typical straight field for all directions cow pastures. There were pockets of these, but after we cross the fallen electric fence wire, there are old trails that weave between the rising mounds of rock. Roads up here were blasted through this rock in places, one thing I always liked when visiting upstate northern New York state.

I used to climb on them as a kid we would play tag on them with my cousin and lay on the top knowing the adults below couldn't care where we were and crush their bodies with our fingers.

We came across a section of pond that was glazed over with ice. He tells me that those snow shoes he was holding once saved him on lake when he was a boy as he was walking on it and did not know it was just snow in a section floating on water and no ice.

I ask how deep this pond was, dad says he did not know, he felt 6 feet, I said no.. Like a foot, he said no look how dark it was under the ice.

OK.. So I took the old snow shoes, clamped them on my boots, walked through the frosty grass and stepped on the iced over pond. It popped, compressed a bit, but held. I walk ten feet, look down and turn around, I see just a small layer of water and grass...

I tell dad you should do it, he says sure. I walk back, help him strap the shoes to his boots and in a very somber academy award-winning way, grip his shoulder, lower my voice and with major concern as tone told him... Be careful is it deep there.

He says we would be careful.

He steps on, same noises as me, he is slower more cautious, more smaller slides as he moves out to where he was, as he was turned I knelt down and grabbed a softball sized rock that was a third in the ground and held it behind me. Dad turns looks at me and says this is sketchy. I did yes... I hope you can swim and I showed the rock. My dad yells my name and almost gets to no!!! As I heaved the rock about six feet in the air and let it crash about a foot from him. It popped through all the ice around shattered and my dad dropped about an inch.

The look on his face was priceless, I was bent over laughing, I told dad I knew it was shallow as hell.

Just a thought I carried last Sunday.....

#dad things #memories #i miss him #father's day #writers on tumblr #original writing #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #writerscommunity #spilled writing #spilled words #spilled poetry #spilled truth #spilled pain #writers and poets #prose and poetry #personal

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sybaritick · 1 year

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GROUNDWATER CLASSIFICATION EXCEPTION

“Drainage ditch” is too vulgar a term for the narrow creek that ran through the fenced off little park twenty yards behind the last condo before we left.

It was good to be near it. I think all running water is like that, even that small amount of it-- at the narrowest part a child could jump across, and I did, when I was eight or nine and we lived another few streets down from the place.

My grandma called it a “babbling brook.” This is still how I think of it: the water running fast enough at the narrow parts that it made the pleasant sound you can hear recorded on relaxation CDs buried in the bottom of a box in your storage closet.

Where the stream widened at the end of the park, though, it pooled shallow and near-stagnant among a patch of cattails and other wet reedy plants. There was always garbage in the water. I never thought of it as dirty, only invasive. It was just as much a part of the environment as the fauna: here was the forsythia (Forsythia suspensa), and the juniper trees (Juniperus virginiana), and here the empty half-liter soda bottle (polyethylene terephthalate).

And that time I ran back to what I knew as home, along the sidewalk that flanked Blue Spring and then the asphalt, and cut through the grassy hill behind the townhouses to get to the one that was mine. (The back door would have been closer, but we did not use that door.)

The beads of granular lawn herbicide (2,4-dichlorophenoxyacetic acid, 3,6-dichloro-2-methoxybenzoic acid) embedded in the soles of my shoes meant that I was to leave them outside today on the porch. In my sock feet I went inside only to get a Shoprite bag (HDPE) to stuff in my pocket to bring back with me, and back on the porch I put my shoes on one at a time without untying them. The stick that I used to fish the empty cigarette box (LDPE and paper) from the water had only recently snapped from the pin oak (Quercus palustris) that stood tall above this park. The park he now stood in, of course, was neither public nor more than an acre and a half; he judged that harshly.

I characterized him alternately as watching over the goings-on in this neighborhood with a silent protectiveness and as too old and tired to see the scrubby pines and patches of clover as anything but pathetically little consolation for what used to be here.

He had been here before they had put these houses up, I was sure of it. The townhome I lived in as a child was built in 2001. The last one I lived in before I left the state was built in 1992, and failing in dozens of small insidious ways that pooled in the sump much faster than the pathetic battery backups (lead dioxide, sulfuric acid) stacked in the basement closet could handle. Security theater was unconvincing to the driving weight of the water.

The pin oak, which I would guess had stood there since the 1960s, would stand for fifty years more unless someone came to destroy it. He did watch, I knew, as the condos in the long gray buildings across the street settled down to piecemeal destroy themselves.

I took the cigarette box in my ungloved hand from the end of my fishing-stick and put them in the bag and then I did not think about what my mother’s reaction might be. I often thought of it before I did things; that day I did not.

And hence I filled the bag with invasive treasures: three-quarters of a faded water bottle label (polypropylene), an empty chip bag (oriented polypropylene), a small chunk of styrofoam (polystyrene).

I pulled the bag into a tight knot at the top, and down from my small fingertips to my elbow ran the freed little rivulet of water (water, trichloroethylene, 1,1-dichloroethene).

#microfiction #flash fiction #writers on tumblr #new jersey #short story #cal txt #my writing

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mammons-wife · 3 years

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Cursed! MC

Request: Discord

Warnings: Pretty Boi make brain go brrrrr, maybe female pronouns ??,

Lucifer

You looked up at the weird girl you had befriended, she wasn’t exactly popular in your work place. She being new and not talking much made it harder for anyone to approach her but that fateful day you did. Now here you are, at her house, looking up at her she looked panicked and started to apologize running around. You finally caught a reflection of yourself, you were two feet tall and a chicken… a peahen to be exact, you started to panic and run around flapping your wings when said “friend” comes back, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Okay here! Get in the box I’ll take you to my grandma she’ll know how to fix this!” She placed a cardboard box with a fleece blanket down, you stared at, looking at her turning your head to get a good look at her, she seemed genuinely concerned so, flapping your wings you land on the edge of the box before jumping in. She wrapped the blanket over you and out into the cold you both went on a walk to her grandmothers house. After what felt like hours your box was put down outside in a fenced yard, you lifted your head looking around to see an elderly woman talking with your friend, “It’ll be a few days for me to make a potion to fix this, unstable magic is a complicated thing to correct.” Your friend turned to your box squatting explaining what her grandmother said and coming out about being a witch. She simply told you to roam free for the day in her grandmothers yard and she’ll take care of everything else. That was yesterday, today, you were let out the house into the yard again, facing the same three peacocks that flashed their feathers at you doing a dance only for you to turn away and walk. You perched on a fountain in the middle of her grandmothers yard preening for some forsaken instinct. Until you saw him, your tail wiggled when you saw a man, milky skin, onyx hair, burning red eyes, in a fitted suit and gloves, he walked with air, broad shoulders pushing his chest out head up with pride. He, he’s was beautiful, you got up and jumped down from the ledge running over and following him, he noticed you looking down holding a hand to his chest raising a brow and you made a noise tapping your feet before moving closer to his leg. He tilted his head before turning to walk away, you followed after him, admiring him, after making it to the front door he noticed you again standing there looking up at him. He was confused now, you moved closer nuzzling against his leg, he squatted down bringing a hand to your head, you didn’t flinch, he rubbed your colored feathers and down your neck where they shifted to brown and cream. You made a happy chirping noise and he spoke up, his voice was velvety and deeper, “You certainly are a peculiar creature.” You lightly flapped your wings when he pulled away, he knocked on the door and a second later your friends grandmother opened the door, she saw you next to the man, “Lucifer come in,” she looked down at you, “Come in MC,” Lucifer watched as you stepped into the house before he followed. She noted how you stood by Lucifer staring up at him. Intrigued by the sight she said nothing. She passed him deeper into the house and out into the patio in her backyard. She brought him to table with chairs, where a book was, “Sit down Lucifer.” He sat down watching you as you sat by his feet on the floor. He started to talk about his brothers debts with the witch until a peacock came up flashing his feathers, he noted how you stood up and walked to the other side of his seat before you laid your foot on his shoe. The Peacock left Tail down, this happened to more times until you situated yourself under his seat. The rest of his talk went smooth and came to an end, he stood up and was about to make his way out until a peacock ran at him ready to attack him for standing between you and the Peacock himself. He didn’t react because of the way you jumped between them ruffling your feathers and wings making a terrifying noise throwing a bite at the peacock. He was beyond amused seeing this, even more when you stood beside him calm again. He turned to the witch.

“You have an interesting pet, if you don’t mind me asking how did you come across something so unique.” The witch smiled, “She’s yours for taking, from what I’ve been told she hasn’t accepted a single mate, I found it interesting that she’d taken a liking to you.” Lucifer nodded and looked at you, he held squatted down hold a hand out to you smiled “Come here will you.” In that instant your brain made the same noise an old computer fan made while cooling down, you didn’t hesitate in walked over and laying your head in his hand, he smiled before letting you up laying you across his arm against his chest, “I will then.” You looked up at him with pure adoration for such a handsome man, he had a faint smile as he looked down at you and to the witch. “Maybe I won’t have to punish my idiot brother so harshly now.” You nuzzled against his chest closing your eyes and fluffing your feathers in pure joy as he hummed a tune walking out of the witches house, that was until everything became a blur and all of a sudden you were in a not so familiar place. It looked like a palace, waxed floors, and chandeliers, a small black thing in a hat flew towards you and you ruffled up your feathers in fear but to warm then not to get closer. Until the other gloved hand that held you stopped the thing floating at you, “That’s close enough Number 2.” Your feathers settled when Number 2 stood back complaining, “Lucifer! I assume your trip to the Human world was fruitful.” He turned and you saw a man in a red coat and next to him a butler. “Yes Lord Diavolo, it was an interesting visit.” Lord Diavolo stopped taking a look at you, “What’s this?” He asked and held a hand out to you, you leaned forward to look at his hand before retracting leaning back against Lucifer. Lord Diavolo let out a laugh while the butler eyes you taking his chin in his thumb and forefinger. “She is definitely an interesting creature Lucifer.” Lucifer nodded, “I-“ A ringtone interrupted Lucifer, he answered and his dance changed to annoyance, he quickly hung up, “Forgive my rushed depart but those idiot brothers of mine seem to be causing issues.” Her turned and stormed out of big doors and you saw it, dark skies, and strange buildings, this ain’t home… after a while you came up to this large Grey house and yelling could be heard, he rushed passed gates slamming the door open and silence feel over the group of men in an all out brawl, after watching them all get punched over the head and kneeling while getting scolded at you were placed down and looked up at Lucifer, only thinking, ‘No, pick me back up pretty man, don’t leave me.’ You followed him back and forth while he scolded his brothers, they took note of this, after he finished a pink haired one spoke up, “What an adorable pet you have Lucifer! She follows you!” Lucifer snapped to look at him, he watched as he reached a hand out to you, you turned your head eyeing him, you stepped to him and pecked his hand away the way you had with the peacock that wanted to attack him. You turned your back to him and he cooed, “She’s so feisty! I love it!” He reached out to let you and you ruffled up bitting his finger and he pulled his hand away and you strutted over to Lucifer settling beside him looking away from the boys before you.

This went on for two weeks before the Butler and Lord form your arrival showed up, you’d learned you were in the Devildom, what you knew as hell. You’ve seen many demon and have bit many hands and fingers, even attacking women who attempted to get to close to your claimed mate even if he didn’t know it. You sat perched on the arm rest of his chair, tail hanging down, you looked around the table seeing all of the brothers, Lucifer crossed his leg over the other, resting a hand on your back running his fingers through your feathers as he spoke to Diavolo, Diavolo having mentioned a human in the Devildom and you turned to him head tilted and he chuckled outstretching a hand to refer to you, “It seems we’ve found them, Barbatos would you?” Barbatos, the butler stood up and took you from Lucifer placing you on the table before a bright light formed in his hand and he brought it to your plush chest, it went into you and with a cloud of white smoke there you sat in-front of Lucifer on the edge of the table, Barbatos’s words “I didn’t see this happening.” Brought no comfort to you when you realized you were very much as bare as the day you were born before Lucifer jumped up ripping his coat off his shoulders to cover you, Asmodeus had started to make lewd comments as Lucifer stood you up buttoning up his coat to cover you completely. Diavolo finally looked at you in a decent state, he asked “How did this happen?” You explained the long story leaving out the claiming Lucifer as a mate part and SURPRISE! You were elected as the first human Exchange student without hesitation.

Mammon

Mammon was used to being flocked with crows when he entered the human, which usually lead to young witches flocking to him.

One day, you unknowingly happened to be caught in the cross fire of two witches outside your college campus in the park. You make a squawking noise flapping your wings, the witches hadn’t noticed you still cursing one another, then you felt it, an urge in your chest, you took of flying by instinct looking over everything until a glint caught your eyes, you dived down snatching an engagement ring form a velvet box, the couple left behind screaming as you rushed over to who knows where stopping when you came to a secluded space in a park, diving down you found a hoard of crows in the clearing looking towards the center expecting something, they each had coins, or something shiny. All of them hopping about to get closer to the empty space in the center. You pushed yourself forward trying to get closer for some unknown reason, and then lines started to burn into the grass, you stepped back watching the grass burst into flames before you saw a man, he was tanned with sapphire eyes, and white hair, he had spiraled horns and leathery bat like wings, slender and tall with a sharp jaw, his attire was strange but that was forgotten when the crowd started to squawk as if praising and cheering him, he eyed them and one by one they flew to him giving him the gifts they had gathered. He seemed stoic, serious, until he literally beamed praising a crow for bringing him someone’s watch. You noted he was looking at you, every crow was, you were the last one, you hopped forward before he held his hand out, you flew up landing on his forearm, dropping the engagement ring with three large stones in his palm before picking it up and managing to get it on his finger. You hopped around on his arm turning look at him while he studied the ring, he nodded, “This! This a great example of what to bring! It’ll definitely sell for more than just a few Grimm!” He laughed and ruffled your head feather before he squinted at you, “But you, I don’t remember you.” He lifted your beak with his forefinger studying your little bird face, turning it and you eyed him, and he brought you up to your shoulder, “Your not from here, never seen you before, so stick with me I’m gonna show ya how Mammon runs things ‘round here.” You jumped up to his shoulder and that’s how your day began, riding in the shoulder of pretty Boi Mammon. It started off with him changing forms, you took it pretty well, didn’t even flinch, maybe the urge to be with him made your brain crash so nothing was functioning at any capacity. Riding on his shoulder gave many benefits, you learned he was a notorious pick pocket, and surprisingly very kind especially to children. What you didn’t like were the women who approached him, trying to strike up conversations, you’d go almost unnoticed by them as he tried to reject them, this one particular woman had placed her hands on his chest after he told her he wasn’t interested, he tried to step back only to hit a wall, you got aggressive ruffling your feathers before letting out a loud squawking noise and attacking the woman chasing her off, pecking at her head and attempting her face as she ran away screaming in a panic, you’d managed to to pull some hair out and grab a gold necklace off of her in her frenzy flaying back to Mammon and landing on his shoulder perching and nuzzling under his jaw against his neck. He laughed as you draped the chain over his shoulder, he took it, pocketing it rubbing your head, you stayed by his side the rest of the day after meeting with a witch and being borderline tortured and worked out for the day he made his way back to town sitting at patio in the middle of a bunch of small food stands, he looked tired and sad, he sat down rubbing his hands over his face before groaning, he watched you jump onto the table, through his patted fingers, you looked around as the smell of food filled the air, his stomach grumbled and he mumbled, “I’m hungry… wait do I have any money?” Pulling out his wallet he had a few small bills. You made a low squawking noise before flying off only hearing him call “Where are you going!?”

You flew around the stalls, people had big bills in their hands from getting change. You swooped down a couple of times successfully getting some money, you flew around looking for anything else, you landed on a stall attempting to roll the money and taking it in your foot, before flying off again, you dived down into the stalls looking around and then flying off to find Mammon, you found him walking around with his few bills in hand, you flew over to him gently pulling his hair, he looked around confused before he saw you, you landed on the floor taking the money in your beak before walking in a direction, he looked at you confused before you hopped three times and walked again, with furrowed brows he followed you wondering what you held in your mouth, he followed and interested pedestrians patted watching you walk around with money. You brought him to a ramen place with a 2 for 1 special. You flew up to the counter scaring the cashier, you turned pecking at the promotion poster near the register, he looked confused until we watched mammon walk in behind you. Mammon looked at the cashier before squinting reading the poster, “Oh, OH! Lemme get a two for one special please.” The cashier seemed confused but nodded, “How will you be paying?” He shrugged, “Ask the crow.” You jumped on the register holding up the poorly rolled bills and the cashier pulled it from your beak, “Cash it is.” He typed and looked back up, “What flavor broth would like?” Mammon looked at the laminated menu on your side of the register, “Give me the Extreme Spice Beef flavor,” he looked at you and you hoped onto the menu jumping over the flavor you wanted, “and mild pork belly for the crow.” You flew up to his shoulder as the cashier gave him change and told him to sit at the bar, he sat down and you sat in the chair next to him making the kid next to him turn and look in awe. “Two bowls of ramen for the Sir and… crow… I thought they were just kidding when they said crow…” the waiter placed the large bowls down before pulling her phone, “Can I take a picture of your crow?” Mammon nodded slurping noodles, “Can she?” He asked turning to you, you looked at him tilting your head before giving a single nod, “She says yes.” You stood on the rim of your bowl breaking so many health code restrictions but the waiter was ecstatic. “She’s so cute!” She squealed rushing off. You started to slurp at the broth followed by picking vegetables and then finally managing to tear pieces of pork belly, Mammon had long finished his ramen watching you attempt to eat noodles. He smiled and shook his head watching you, “you’re kinda weird.” After giving up on the noodles and trying to fit in another piece of pork belly you stepped off your bowl. You both left with the cashier and waiter screaming bye. Mammon walked around the streets that were lit up by the buildings and signs, you were perched on his shoulder, occasionally flying off seeing something shiny or circling above, diving down to ward of a stray woman who tried to approach, you both made it the park where you first met him. He sat at a park bench and table, you jumped on the table infront of him, staring up him, he was ethereal, the full moon made his hair glow white, his skin was radiating in the light, his eyes were burning a bright blue and his smile seemed so bright, his eyes fell becoming lidded, resting his cheek against his fist that was propped up on the table, “It’s time for you to go home, crows aren’t out this late, you should be taking shelter.” You looked around, it was dark, it felt like the moon was only shinning on the clearing you were in. You made an almost quiet squawking noise, before you deflated sitting on the table leaning onto your side stretching your wing out. Mammon cocked a brow, “you don’t wanna go yet?” You perked up and jumped, he laughed lightly “alright, ya got five minutes before I go.” On instinct your little bird body started moving, opening and ruffling your feathers and wings you started a dance, you didn’t know what you were doing but Mammon seemed to know.

He looked away bringing a hand to the back of his head before bringing a hand to your head smoothing out your feathers when you finished, he gave a sympathetic smile, “Listen, you’re a real nice crow, you got me a ring, you took me to dinner you paid, you ran off some women, and you even did a little dance, it’s cute but,” he tilted his head, “I can’t be your mate.” He kept running his fingers over your feathers and you let your head fall down, you waddled away from his hand in a circle, before jumping on his forearm making a sad sound. He looked at you and sighed, “Come one get off, I gotta go.” You moved to his shoulder perching and not moving cuddling to his neck, he picked you putting you down on the table only for you to fly back to his shoulder and settle again. Doing this five more he times he groaned. “Fine!” He threw his hands up, “ya can stay, but don’t think this means Imma be nice. Your riding in the great Mammon there’s a fee to pay!” He stood up walking to the burned grass standing in the middle before everything started to light up with flames disappearing just before you were thrown into who knows where. You surrounded by demons, as he walked lively streets that would feel like home if the faces passing were more human. You did your best to move closer to him as he walked and walked until he came to some gates, “This is home now, stick with me.” You gave a nod before he made his way into the house. It was terrible, a man wearing a long cape like coat tied Mammon up in to the chandelier and tried to swat you away for attacking him, you unknowningly saved Mammon from a lecture by squawking loudly and interrupting the man you now know as Lucifer every time he spoke. He eventually got irritated and left. You squawked one more time flapping your wings in aggregation before flying over to Mammon, he sighed and looked tired, it took a while but you managed to get through the rope around his wrists so he could free himself, he thanked you and made his way to his room, you followed and ended up hopping around his floor using your beak to pick up Grimm you found under the bed and sofa piling it up on his pillow while he showered, thinking to yourself “I’m such a good mate.” Eventually he came out in just a towel, and he found you perched on the sofa preening, you turned to him before stretching your wing out continuing, he sat watching you, drying his hair with an extra towel, you tiled your head and moved to stand behind his head, he felt you nuzzle against his head and then pulling at his hair, he used his phone camera to see what you were doing, you were fixing his hair so it wouldn’t messy and knotted the way the towel had left it. He ended up dozing off until you shirked waking him up, he got up stretching heading to his bed. He got in and watched you just sit on the back of the sofa, you tilted your head when he threw his towel from under his blanket, (y’all Mammon sleeps naked Levi said it) he turned over and silence filled the room before he patted a pillow, “come on.” You flew over the the pillow, your instincts burrowing into it to form a nests shape. He fell asleep and in your mind all you could think was ‘Hehe, sleeping with a pretty boy.’ The following week was chaos for the house of lamentation. Mammon would do something he wasn’t supposed to and get tied up from the ceiling only to be freed minuets later, Lucifer couldn’t scold Mammon because now he’d only be screamed over. If the brothers would insult or do anything remotely negative towards Mammon they would be attacked and chased away. Satan had even brought a stray cat to get rid of their crow problem only for the cat to run out when you had bit it’s tail multiple times in a row to scare it off. Goldie could be retrieved and taken into hiding from Lucifer in seconds. You were now a spy for Mammon when trying to sneak out to go gambling. Even scaring off Succubi and Witches that tried to get to close, even Grimm had gone missing and Mammon was proven innocent on each count. If it was shiny and not glued down, it wasn’t safe.

Three weeks had passed and you and Mammon had become an inseparable threat. But, coming to the demon lords castle for a party changed that. Barbatos, Diavolo and Lucifer who looked distressed approached Mammon and his crow who was standing in the next seat.

Barbatos held up a blanket, “Mammon, it’s come to our attention something may be wrong with your crow, would you mind swaddling it so I can perform a check up?” Mammon looked at him like was crazy, “She’s fine! Look at her! She’s a crow being as crowy as a crow can be!!” “MAMMON.” The command cause him to flinch and for you to squawk at Lucifer jumping onto Mammons shoulder. “Fine Fine Geez!” He took the blanket from Barbatos wrapping it around you once, “I don’t see why she needs such a big blanket.” Barbatos smiled, “For precautions.” Before Mammon could say anything Barbatos formed a light pushing it into your exposed chest, you let out a short squawk before a cloud of white smoke covered you and you heard a grunt, the smoke cleared and you were poorly covered in Mammons lap, the blanket sliding off your nude body you pulled it up wrapping yourself covering your body, Mammon became a stuttering blushing mess before almost passing out. Moving to sit in your Chair Diavolo asked how this happened, you explained how two witches were having a… dispute and ended up in the cross fire and following crow instincts they led you to Mammon who ended up taking you in thinking you were just a normal crow. Diavolo laughed at such an interesting story, Lucifer sighed in stress before Diavolo said they didn’t need to find a candidate if they had a human right there in the Devildom.

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the-fiction-witch · 3 years

Text

Watts

TV SHOW: THE QUEENS GAMBIT COUPLE: BENNY X READER (KINDA) RATING: SAD + SWEET

Writers notes: My brain today : Hu? I wonder what’s benny watt’s backstory? who knows... Lets make him one! that's sad and tragic and kinda adorable... lets do this.

I sat against the harsh plastic chair, my feet against the ice cold stones of the basement floor, the chill coming under the door spreading across the whole apartment, the windows dark rain battering them every so often thunder cracking across the sky, I sat up a little in my chair and moved a piece playing the toughest game I could play, Against myself. I pulled my shirt over me a little more but not wanting to do up another button, it wasn't that cold. I was lost in my own world a while my mind started to wander.

One of the first things I can recall, it was a bright sunny day, the sky blue, the warmth of mid July in full swing, The tall buildings around all shaken and half broken, all the windows taped up, many of them blacked out, The sweet sounds of the radio playing some nice tunes, I was hopping along the tall fence posts jumping from tall wooden post to tall wooden post down the long garden, trying not to fall. I saw the door to next door open, her hair up in a bun, her dress half torn and repaired, the washing basket on her hip, she was shocked but then her face softened as she smiled at me

"Benjamin watts? what are you doing up there?" she laughs

"Playing" I told her

"what are you playing?" she asks coming over

"Frogs"

"Well alright," she laughs putting her basket down by her washing line string, she got her little cloth out her apron pocket giving it a lick and cleaning some dirt off my nose "You be careful Little man"

"I will Mrs Linley" I smiled hopping to the next post

"why don't you go out and play with the other kiddos?"

"There not as fun as playing by myself"

"Why don't you go with little Lilly take her to the park for an ice cream"

"Lilly's boring"

"BENNY!" I heard the harsh male voice yell so I quickly jumped down from the fence seeing him stood looming over the backdoor of the house in his usual suit with his cane, his belt done tight with his knife sat there as usual "Dinner" He says so I nodded heading inside sitting at the table where he set down a bowl of gross smelling soup I instantly turned my nose up at it "Eat it. You're lucky I even feed you" He says muttering to himself as he usually did "Ungrateful little bastard, You know I don't have to. I could have sent you to the poor house with the other kids, not out the goodness of my heart I look after you"

"Then why do you Papa?"

"Because your mother asks it off me." he sighed sitting at the table with his own soup and some bread "We've been over this" He says "I want nothing to do with my daughter, never was my business, and if she wasn't so busy I wouldn't be the one taking care of you, You little bastard"

"What's a bastard Papa?"

"You are a bastard benny. By definition, Maybe you wouldn't be if your mother kept her legs shut and had some idea who your father was" He sighed "if your mother wasn't so busy, taking care of the soldiers I'd leave you with her," he explained "eat your dinner"

"Yes papa" I sighed "when will mummy be back?"

"When the war is over," he says "your mother as much as we have our differences, she does a good job, and an important job. Nurses are usually good girls, your mother… happens to be an exception, but nurses are good girls, you'll marry a nurse one day"

"Will I?"

"Course you will. You'll get a war at your age Benny, you'll meet a lovely nurse, get married and have your own little kiddos" he says "Watts always have nurses"

"What if I don't wanna be a soldier?"

"Then you and your mother are dead to me" he says before the sound of the warning erupted across the city, he stood up and grabbed the bag by the door pushing me out the seat I nodded and ran out the house And into the garden as the sun was setting, he slowing followed as he locked the house up, I ran down to the shelter jumping on my little bed, he followed and locked the door up behind him sitting on his own. It grew terrifyingly quiet as for moments the world sat on the edge “Benny, Play” He ordered clicking his fingers pointing to the little chess board he had set up on the table between the beds, I happily smiled going and playing against him. He would often try to trick me but I always beat him “Good game kid” He cracked a smile shaking my hand

“Can I papa? Can I?” I asked bouncing my on the bed

“Alright, until the raid’s over” he says taking his hat from the side and sitting it on my head “Again?”

“Again” I smiled excitedly setting the board up again,

“But not to many, you need to get to bed”

I sat at the table the chess board set, waiting. It was getting so late now I wonder what was happening, Someone had come to the door before we had began our game I didn’t know why, My grandpa just took them to the other room I could heard talking, arguing even if I tried not to listen.

“Why can’t his father take him?”

“There’s no mention of him anywhere we can’t find him” “Well he has to be somewhere” “Noel. If you don’t keep him. He’ll get swept up with the rest of the kids, There’s hundreds, maybe thousands of them, homeless, lost there families, you know if he goes into the system, he won’t get out till he’s eighteen.”

“I don’t see why I should keep him

“He’s your grandchild” “He’s a bastard! I never much wanted anything to do with my daughter why should I clean up after her mess”

“Because she’s not coming back. Not for him. Not for you. You’re all he has in the world.”

The door opened moments later the woman from the door came over to me touching my hair moving it out of my eyes for me “Hi Benny”

“Hello” I answered not sure what was going on

“Benny, I need you to answer something for me” she smiled moving to her knee

“Okay” I nodded seeing my grandpa stood leaning on the door to the other room

“Would you Like to stay here? In this little house with your grandpa? Or would you like me to take you to a nice place with lots of other children… lots of nice children who, Have lost their mommies too”

I looked to my grandpa and he seemed to be waiting for the answer too, I didn’t know what they wanted from me…

“I would like to stay here with papa”

“Okay sweetheart” she smiled “Then he stays with you”

“What if I said… you’d be better off there Benny?” He asks

“I’d still rather stay”

“Fine. But I hear a word of complaint out your little bastard mouth, one tantrum, one teenage rebellion. You’re going. You choose to stay here with me, and don’t you ever fucking forget it” He warned

“Yes Papa”

“Go to your room” He ordered and I nodded going out the house and out to the little shelter, our house had only ever had one bedroom and there wasn’t much space for me, even so he would rather I sleep out here said I was safer to always sleep in here, were I couldn’t get hurt, My boards sat along the other bed, my trophies lines along the little wall, I shut the little door and got cosy in the little dark shelter.

I sat in the old beaten up pick up listening to the radio on low, I was going over the games of the people I was to play against, running through it all in my head.

“You gonna win?” He asks

“I’m planning on it” “Don’t get cocky.” He warns “worst train in the world cockiness. Gets you into trouble. Don’t write checks with your mouth that your ass can’t cash benny”

“I know,”

“I know you know. Doesn't it mean you shouldn’t listen” He says “You're going out after?”

“No, home. Do some work” “You’ve never gonna met a girl at one of these things” “I know,”

“..... If there’s a boy-” “I’m not Gay Papa” I laughed

“Aren’t you? You're fourteen, how do you know?”

“Because I like girls”

“You’re fourteen. You don’t know what you like. I thought alot like what then I was your age”

“And?”

“And. You shouldn’t set yourself up to fail, I was married when I was not much older then you. Don’t… rush yourself with things is all I’m saying” “Is that why you didn’t wanna be with grandma anymore?”

“Somewhat, there was a lot of things between me and your grandma. Don’t worry about it” He says as he stopped at the little hotel doing the tournament “Hey,” He says stopping me from opening the door “Good luck you little bastard” He laughs putting his hat on my head

“I thought I don’t get it till I win?” I asked fiddling with it

“You’ll win. You’re a Watts, Go on you’ll be late” He says

“Thanks Papa” I smiled

“Go on run along you little bastard”

I tried to force it all away, I didn’t want to think about it. I folded the letter up and left it on the table, the cold chill of the apartment starting to get to me. This place was small, dirty, cold, and depressing but… I liked it. It felt like home, all the years of sitting playing chess in bomb shelters because he was too scared to let me come out, I wish I could have seen him again… I wish we hadn’t lost touch, then again he never liked how I went on from there, much less everything else, I had seen him a few times at key moments but he rarely spoke much, or phoned much, he kinda just… backed off. Knowing I had my own life and my own things, I don’t think he minded, but still. I would have liked to have seen him again.

“Benny?” I heard making me sit up a little seeing y/n stood at the bedroom door dressed for work already in her little blue and white dress, her hair done up in beautiful braids, minimal make up as it would get ruined on her shift anyway “Can you settle him? Else I’ll be late for work” she smiled

“Course I can” I laughed getting up and taking our little baby from her sitting him on my hip “Hey kiddo” I laughed giving his head a kiss trying to make him settle down.

“He won’t stop fussing” she laughs

“Boys do” I shrug

“Ummm… are all watts boys such fussy little monsters?” she laughs

“We are assholes” I sighed

“Umm Have to make sure I have a girl this time then” she smiled tapping her tiny little tummy she wasn’t even a full three months yet, “Are you okay benny?” she asks

“Yeah, I’m fine” I shrug

“Alright, don’t get wrapped up about it okay,” she smiled giving me a hug “Milks in the fridge, I’ll be home for dinner” she smiled giving me a kiss

“See you later darling” I told her

“Love you” she giggled

“Love you too” I laughed giving her an extra kiss, she smiled back and gave his head a kiss too before she got her bag

“You boys have fun” she laughed as she opened the door and hurried off to work, I smiled taking him sitting in his high chair by the table, he liked watching my play chess even if was only just about a year old. He kept making grabby hands towards the side of the table where my hat sat so I laughed picking it up and sitting it on his head even if it was miles too big for him

“It’s okay luke. You’ll grow into it” I laughed “But you're not having it properly, till you win. That's the rules, same for you as it was for me. Hey. You’re a watts. And that's the one thing no one can ever take away from you” I told him

#tbs #tbs fanfiction #thomas #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster #thomassangster #thomas sangster imagine #thomasbrodiesangster #benny #benny x reader #benny smut #benny imagine #benny watts #BENNYWATTS #bennywattssmut #benny watts imagine #benny watts smut

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effieduan · 3 years

Text

Dragon Pool Parties || SOLO

TIMING: July 22, 2006 - when Effie was 12-years-old.

LOCATION: The Duan’s old house in Portland.

PARTIES: @effieduan & a neighbor.

SUMMARY: All Scottish castles have dragons, and Effie is lonely.

CONTENT: brief mentions of heart attack. 12 year olds being 12 year olds.

Screams of laughter and splashing could be heard from over the tall fence. Effie sat on her on the back porch, facing away from the fence and her back pressed up against the railing. Her gloves - today a bright blue, like the sky - lay across her lap and her new lego set sat in front of her, only half-heartedly started.

Grandma was in town. Her mom’s mother, which meant she couldn’t spend all her time in her basement and had to go out and get ‘fresh air’ while her sisters, mom, and dad went to the pool party next door. Apparently, it wasn’t healthy for a 12-year-old to spend all their time in the basement tinkering with the ‘computer junk’, and she needed hobbies and interests beyond that.

That’s how the lego thing happened, and if she didn’t get this stupid castle built or at least substantially off the ground by the time Grandma tomorrow afternoon, she was going to be in trouble for being ‘ungrateful’ or ‘having a bad attitude’.

Effie heard a scream from over the fence, followed by a loud splash and laughter. She glanced over her shoulder, but couldn’t see anything over the tall fence. Technically, she had been invited to the pool party too, but she obviously couldn’t go. Effie didn’t remember what excuse her parents had used this time, but she hoped it wasn’t chickenpox again. It took ages for the Dugan boys to stop bawk-bawking at her every time she took a walk.

Grandma was supposed to be watching her play with her lego set - to spend time with her little darling granddaughter since “hardly got the chance”, but had wandered over to get some fun pictures of Ellie, Emme, Ed, and Eva in their new swimsuits. Her sister’s got new swimsuits and she got the lego set -- Effie still wondered what the hell her parents told Grandma to get her to go along with the gloves, and the homeschooling and whatever else. Her father had just gingerly patted her on the head and said “Don’t worry about it, we have it all taken care of.”

Effie ran her fingers along the smooth lego piece as she examined the problem in front of her. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the lego sets - or, well, okay, she didn’t despise them like she did the stupid easy-bake-oven Grandma had tried the last time. It was just the pieces were so small and all of them were the same color. This was a castle, sure, but did all the pieces have to be grey?!

“Is that an English or a Scottish castle?”

Effie jumped, disturbing the little board she had so the pieces didn’t fall in between the cracks in the porch. There was a pop somewhere in the house that told Effie she would have to reset the breaker again -- fine, she’d do it later. But she was more preoccupied with the boy that wandered over from the party on the other side of the fence. He had dirt on his nose, held a soccer ball, and wore a power rangers shirt with black swim trunks. Effie gaped as the boy peered at the lego box she propped up as a reference

“Who the hell are you?!”

The boy took his gaze from the box to her, scandalized. “You can’t say hell,” he said.

“I can so!”

The boy looked like he hadn’t thought of that. “Oh.” He stared at her. “I’m Michael.” He went back to looking at the picture of what her lego castle was supposed to look like. She realized he was a kid from across the street - not one of the Dugan boys, but he was always playing soccer on the front lawn with his brothers.

Nervously, Effie put the lego piece back on the corkboard and quickly went to put her gloves back on. “I’m Effie,” she said. “I don’t know if that’s a Scottish Castle or an English Castle, I don’t know what the difference is.”

“There are differences,” the boy said, looking at her knowingly. She believed him but had no idea what he was talking about. “You don’t look like you have the chickenpox.”

Effie bit back a groan. “I don’t.”

“That’s what your mom said you had. That’s why you aren’t swimming with everyone else.”

“Yeah,” Effie said, giving a non-committal shrug. She couldn’t correct herself and saying she did have chickenpox actually because that would be a lie - she couldn’t do that. She could figure out some fancy wording as her dad taught her, but she wasn’t exactly keen on the neighborhood children thinking she had chickenpox again.

“Are you sick or something?” The question was blunt enough to make her stop thinking about hawking prepubescent boys.

“What?”

“Sick,” Michael said again. “Is that why you don’t go to school or come to parties or anything?”

Effie didn’t answer, and looked back at her lego set, reaching out for one of the larger pieces so she could keep her hands busy. It was harder with the thick rubber gloves around her fingers - it would be a nightmare trying to complete it with her gloves on.

“It’s just better like this,” Effie said, realizing that Michael hadn’t moved from the spot. More splashing and screaming from over the fence caught his attention.

“Why?” he asked, though he was craning his head to see if he could get a glimpse over the fence.

Annoyance crept into her. Why did he even come over here to bother her? “Can you go away?”

Michael looked back at her, surprised. “Why?” he asked. “You’re not contagious, are you?”

“No, I’m just trying to do my lego set.”

“You’re doing a bad job. You haven’t even started on the watchtowers, and you put the wrong pieces in for the draw bridge.”

Effie’s gaze snapped back to the set in front of her. “I did not!” Except there was a large possibility that they did. They all looked the same and were the same color. Whose bright idea was that? She frowned.

“You want to use the A-3467 parts, not those. I think my cousin has that set.”

Effie blinked, looking between Michael and the set. He was looking back over the fence again as someone turned the music up. Justin Timberlake grew louder. “Oh… So then is it a Scottish or an English castle?” Effie said.

Michael finally looked back at the box and looked like he was thinking very hard. Her dad would have joked that he could see the steam coming out of his ears. “English,” he decided, finally.

“Why?”

“Because it doesn’t have a dragon.”

Effie stared at him. “What?

“It doesn’t have a dragon. All Scottish castles have dragons.”

Effie didn’t know enough about English and Scottish castles to say otherwise, but she was pretty sure that wasn’t correct. Dragons didn’t exist… Right? She couldn’t say anything else though, because a bunch of boys was bellowing Michael’s name.

“Crap - I was supposed to get the ball,” Michael said, holding up the soccer ball. “See ya Effie, hope you’re not contagious for much longer!”

He was gone as fast as he came, running down the side of the house shouting to his friends, leaving Effie there alone with her lego set of a decidedly English castle.

She couldn’t explain why she started to cry, but she did. Something ached in her as she heard the party and the splashing and everything else on the other side of the fence. Effie wanted to play too. She wanted a new swimsuit and friends to yell at her because she took too long retrieving the soccer ball. No one should be able to stop her from having that. Effie could go march upstairs and dig through Emme’s dresser -- they were almost the same size, or so Emme said whenever she ‘borrowed’ her sweatshirts. She had tons of swimsuits. She could go. She should go.

Effie had half risen out of her little corner on the deck, wiping her eyes on her sleeve, when she realized what would happen if she waltzed over there ready to join in the fun. She couldn’t go swimming, but inevitably, she would be thrown in the pool and everyone in there would get electrocuted while she crash-coursed herself on learning to float.

Her neighbor with his eyes rolling back into his head as he fell, clutching his chest. The screaming from his wife and her mother’s iron grip around her shoulder as she pulled her into the house. What did you do? Everyone would know it was her this time.

Effie winced, and she sat back down, glowering at the lego set and the gloves that were still on her hands. She remembered the relief when her father put them on her. It was enough then to know that she wouldn’t kill anyone by shaking their hand. Effie checked three times to make sure she was still alone before she took off her gloves. She called it being thorough but knew she was just hoping Michael or some other kid would come back and talk to her.

A few minutes later, she was fiddling with the stupid directions again, trying to figure out how the drawbridge was actually supposed to look and trying not to think about how much more she wanted. Enough was all she needed, and she had better get used to it if she didn’t want a bigger body count.

Now, if only she could find a dragon somewhere...

#don't look at me i just wrote something to get back into the groove of things #para #para solo #solo #wickedswriting

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bymyside-fic · 3 years

Text

Compromise (~2280 words) read on AO3 // AFF

- December 8, 2017 -

“Are you sure you want to head to the shelter today?”

Minho nodded, his eyes tightly shut as he waited for the Wiggenweld Kibum made as soon as they returned from the hospital to take effect. Kibum resettled into bed, combing his fingers lightly through his hair.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, babe.” Gradually, the throbbing ache of his thigh started to dissipate. Enough, at least, for Minho to open his eyes. Kibum smiled as he met his gaze, his expression softening ever so slightly. “We can wait until you’re feeling better.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Kibum let out an exasperated sigh, which made Minho chuckle. "I don't need to even say it, do I?"

Did Kibum need to say that Minho was a bit reckless when it came to injuries? No. That's why he was in this predicament in the first place. But, for Minho's part, he didn't really see going to an animal shelter as reckless.

"No, but really, I'll be just fine. We can apparate there and back again without making me be on my feet too much."

"As long as you use your walker -- " Minho sucked his teeth in disdain, frowning up at Kibum. "It's that or I'm confining you to the house. You can use your crutches in a few weeks, but Healer Talpin said that it'd be best to -- "

"I know, babe, I was there," he grumbled as he tried to sit up, only for Kibum to lean across him, holding him in place. "I just look so dumb when I use it."

"Well if you see anyone making fun of you, just let me know so I can hex them." Minho sniffed a laugh, searching Kibum's blazing eyes. "Look, we're not taking any chances with your recovery, got it?" When Minho started to avert his eyes, Kibum moved his head, staying in his eye line. "What would you do if it were me?"

Well, they both knew the answer to that.

He sighed. "Okay. Walker it is."

The seriousness in Kibum's expression melted away as he smiled, his eyes becoming crescents as he leaned in for a quick kiss. "Good. What do you want to wear today?" he asked as he backed away from Minho, rolling off the bed and heading for their closet.

"Go ahead and choose for me. I trust you."

Even though most of the pain was obliterated now that the Wiggenweld had taken effect, Minho still didn't trust putting too much weight on his leg. Neither did Kibum, so he helped Minho into his jeans and gingerly put his thigh woolen socks and winter boots on while Minho fumbled with and slipped into his sweater.

"Here, can you lift your leg?"

"Mhm."

Kibum reached around, grabbing the strappy brace that Talpin had given Minho to use for a bit of extra support and held it open as he worked it up to and around Minho's thigh. "Is that too tight?" Kibum asked after he had tapped it with the tip of his wand, the straps fastening themselves.

"No, it's just fine. Thanks, sweetheart," he added as Kibum stood.

Kibum smiled down at him, his hand going up to gently cup his cheek as he kissed his forehead. Minho's heart stuttered at the tenderness. It may have been usual before their fight, but in the aftermath...in the absence of anything, the smallest gestures of affection since their reconciliation filled him with such a lingering warmth that carried him throughout the day.

He'd never take it for granted ever again.

At Minho's insistence, they stopped at Sanderson's first before they went out into the No-Maj world. He conjured up some cupholders on his walker while Kibum paid for their drinks, and as soon as they were back outside, Kibum slipped his hand around his arm, twisting on his spot.

It took nearly all of his concentration to keep a hold on his walker as the city swirled around him. When they arrived, Kibum seemed to have taken special care to appear in the alley behind Animal Haven on Centre St.

Kibum tucked his wand into his coat, then grabbed their coffees before they started for the animal shelter.

A wave of warmth greeted them, soon followed by a chorus of distant barking and meowing. "Hello!" the woman wearing a Santa hat behind the counter said, her cheeks just as rosy and her smile just as bright as Santa's himself. The cat curled up on the counter beside her looked up lazily. It deemed them not worth the trouble of getting up any further and tucked its head back into its side. "Just here to look around?" she asked as Kibum helped Minho hobble inside.

The door jingled as it fell shut behind them. The cat's tail twitched at the sound.

"Yes, I think so."

"We might adopt today."

Her eyebrows shot up in interest. "Dogs are back there." She gestured to the hallway behind her, then pointed past the ginger tabby on the counter. "And cats are that way."

"Thank you," Minho said, and Kibum started towards the dogs. He didn't have to turn back around to know that she was watching him curiously.

Kibum held the door open for him, the excited barking echoing around them. German shepherds, pit bulls, and mixes Minho never could have placed watched them as they inspected them. Some hid in the back of their cages, others jumped up on the chain-link gate, tails wagging as they whined for either Minho or Kibum to oblige them or to pass by. Minho stopped to put his hand out for one of the labrador-looking dogs to sniff, but it ended up excitedly licking his hand.

“I wish Jonghyun could have come with us,” Minho said, smiling down at the dog.

“Yeah, it sucks that he had to work.” When Minho looked up, he found Kibum crouching down in front of one of the cages, sticking his fingers through the fence. It took him an annoyingly long time to reach him, but when he did, he smiled.

There were two poodles inside, a red one and a black one, both watching them curiously from the back of their cage. Since he couldn’t crouch beside Kibum, he read the little paper attached to the chain link.

Meet Comme Des (5 y/o, male, red Toy Poodle) and Garcons (2 y/o, male, black Toy Poodle), two adorable, inseparable brothers! Their owner passed away and her remaining family refused to take the boys in, so they are ready to be adopted into a loving home!

He shifted his weight off of his bad leg as he looked back at the puppies.

“The red one looks like the one Grandma used to have.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Minho hummed in thought, glancing up at the sheet of paper again. “Well, I’m good with adopting two puppies if you are.”

“Both?” Kibum asked, a hint of incredulity in his voice. Minho nodded and pointed at the paper, and Kibum stood quickly to read it for himself. “Oh, poor things...Love the names, though.”

“I thought you might.” Kibum sniffed a laugh, patting Minho’s shoulder as he shook his head. “Do we want to head back to the front desk to see if we can adopt them?” Kibum looked up at him, his eyes alight with excitement, and he nodded.

They didn’t leave the shelter with the puppies in tow for another hour, and even then, they debated whether they should disapparate or not, in the end, Minho opted on disapparating alone so he wouldn’t have to be on his feet that much longer and Kibum would take a Magi-Cab home instead of the subway.

He appeared in their room, first, so he could sit while he took off his shoes and coat. Then he fell back, knocking a sigh out of him as he looked up at the starry ceiling. Was this just gonna be his life now? Playing Quidditch and getting injured? Not that it happened often since he started playing professionally, but it happened quite a bit during school. He just...put his all into the game and sometimes that came back to bite him.

Hm…

Maybe Kibum had a point.

Minho pushed himself up, his gaze falling on the drawer of his nightstand. He pulled it open, revealing the Snitches within -- the one with Kibum’s ring, and the one from the last game.

He leaned forward, touching it, setting it aflutter around the room. It zoomed around lazily, Minho's gaze following it.

How many more years did he have, anyway? He just shaved a few off with this injury, but really, how long did he have left? Kibum was right, of course. He did get too passionate sometimes. Too into the game. Minho glanced down at his ankle, the one which -- just like his leg -- had been broken by a Bludger. It still twinged when the weather changed.

Come to think of it, it was aching right now.

What would his next Quidditch injury be? There was bound to be more, with how he went about it. Could he put Kibum through another scare like that?

He had told him the night before they left the hospital after the last of Minho's visitors had left him, that in his worry, he panicked and thought that Minho could have died.

Kibum had brushed off Minho's concern with a laugh, then changed the subject once again to the puppies they were going to adopt.

Speaking of, where was he? He glanced at the empty stairwell as if the thought of Kibum would make him appear.

Wincing, he gingerly swung his leg up onto the bed, sitting back against his pillows. The Snitch came over to inspect him before it flitted away again. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he watched it.

"No," he whispered aloud to the empty room. "I can't."

If they were going be married -- which, of course, they were. As soon as he could kneel again, he was going to propose -- would it be fair or kind to Kibum to put him through that stress every time he played a game? It wouldn't. Especially not with his history of lost loved ones.

No.

He couldn't do that to him.

He reached for his phone and pulled up his and Mercy's texts.

Actually, he should wait a bit, think it through a bit longer. He was almost sure that he was going to go with this decision, but it was better to be absolutely positive. Nodding to himself, he set aside his phone.

As soon as he drew his hand back, the front door cracked open. "Babe?"

"I'm upstairs!" Kibum was accompanied by some high-pitched, probably nervous whining and the rustle of plastic bags. The Snitch drifted over to the stairwell, hovering over it. Possibly to see what the commotion was. Minho pushed himself up. "Do you want my help?"

"No, no, I'm fine." Their little cages were unhinged, and soon the sound of their scurrying on the hardwood floor floated up to him. “Come on, boys,” Kibum said, his voice very high-pitched. “Let’s go outside, yeah?”

Minho sighed, smiling as he listened to Kibum continue to talk to them until the back door swung closed. He resettled on the bed, not feeling all that inclined to get up. He hadn’t realized he had started to drift off until Kibum slid into bed beside him, rousing him.

“Was I asleep?” he asked.

“You were well on your way.” Kibum leaned in, Minho tipping his chin up so Kibum could kiss him. “I’m sorry for waking you.”

“You’re a nice thing to wake up to, so it’s okay.”

Kibum’s smile grew. “You’re so sappy.”

“What? You love it.”

“So what if I do?”

Minho had been about to answer, but he held his tongue when Kibum turned around. “Where’s your brother?” he asked, and Minho peered around to see Garcons watching them from the top step. At Kibum’s question, Garcons turned around and hurried back downstairs. “Why do I feel like he understood me?”

And, sure enough, a moment later Garcons returned with Comme Des, who immediately ran in and hopped on their bed, bounding up to Kibum. Garcons was soon to follow, except he directed his attention to Minho, half-standing on his chest, his head cocking to the side as he looked down at Minho.

“Do you think they’ll nap with us?”

“Is that what we were doing?”

“It’s what you were doing and I felt inclined to join you.”

Minho sniffed a laugh. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

Kibum hummed in thought, then slipped down, resting his head on Minho’s shoulder like usual. It only took a few minutes for Garcons to curl up between them and for Comme Des to flop down in the curve of Kibum’s knees. “I think if we’re really still, they’ll fall asleep.”

“That’s usually how it works, yeah.”

Kibum sucked his teeth, and Minho started to laugh quietly. “Don’t make me get some of that extra strength Wiggenweld.”

Minho grinned, meeting Kibum’s eye when he lifted his head. “Oh, sweetheart, I don’t need that shit to wax eloquent about how amazing you are.”

His dimples appeared as he pursed his lips together in an attempt not to smile, and he rested his head back down on Minho’s shoulder, snuggling a bit closer to him. Minho lifted his head from his pillow to kiss the crown of his head, then let it fall back against his pillow again, his eyes drooping closed once more.

#Minkey #SHINee fic #SHINee ficlet #SHINee AU #SHINee #Kibum #Minho #year: after hogwarts #bonus material

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Riding High Ch 19: Unfair Comparison

Part 2

REMINDER! Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words in this part!

Please read Part 1 first

The next few weeks skipped by fairly uneventfully, bar the almost meltdown Mary had when it was revealed to her that she wouldn’t be going back into Bonnie’s class when September rolled around. Frank tried to explain to her that wasn’t how school worked but she was besides herself, declaring she wasn’t going back to school if that was the case, leaving Frank groaning about the possibility of repeat of the scene they had the previous year.

In the end, it was the twins that managed to explain it to her. Steve and his family came over to visit again for 2 weeks in the middle of August and the boys Charlie and Joel spent a lot of time at Fliss and Frank’s for sleepovers, Fliss loved having her nephews to stay. One night when they were all sat in the lounge, Frank overheard Charlie telling Mary all about how he was looking forward to moving into the bigger classroom and learning cool news stuff. He could see the cogs whirring in her head and after that the whole issue seemed to go away. Thank fuck.

Fliss had to laugh though, as one person who was NOT looking forward to the return of the school year was Bonnie. One Thursday night she called Fliss begging her got on a girl’s night out as she needed to blow off some end of holiday blues. Fliss agreed and arranged to meet up with her on Saturday evening. The weekend rolled round fairly quickly and Fliss was in a good mood when she arrived at work, a few lessons to do before she could head home and start getting ready. She was just heading out to the first one when her phone rang. The number was withheld but that wasn’t uncommon as a lot of people called about lessons in such a way.

“Fliss Gallagher…” she answered. No one spoke in response. “Hello?”

Nothing.

With a shrug she cut the call and replaced it back into her pocket, making her way over to the paddock, when the phone went again. She repeated the process and there was still no one talking on the other side.

“You ok?” Joanne looked at her, as Fliss frowned.

“Yeah, I just had 2 silent calls…” Fliss shrugged

“Probably someone ass-dialling”

“Yeah, maybe…” Fliss said, not voicing where her mind had instantly gone, straight to John. She stuck the phone in her pocket once more and strode into the paddock, greeting her client.

There were no more calls that day, which made Fliss comfortable enough that it wasn’t her ex. If it was and he was playing some stupid game he wouldn’t have stopped. So by the time Mary appeared to do her stable chores and ride Monty she was in fairly good spirits. Fliss decided that they were going to do something a little different on Mary’s lesson today, and she placed a few poles on the floor and had Mary walk Monty over them first, then do them in trot. It wasn’t hard for the pony, and he knew his job but it was different for Mary, making her concentrate fully on where she was going. Frank leaned on the paddock fence watching the pair of them as Fliss walked along side Mary, chatting away to her before she stepped back and allowed Mary to try it on her own. The smile on Mary’s face was all Frank needed to see and he nodded to her as she looked over to him, his hand falling to Thor’s head as the dog had jumped up, leaning his paws on the top of the fence.

“Alright buddy?” he asked, scratching his ears as Thor panted in response, giving a sharp bark at Fliss who turned to look at them, grinning.

One the horses were fed they all made their way home and after dinner Fliss grabbed a glass of wine and headed for a shower and then to get ready. 40 minutes or so later she emerged dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a white off the shoulder top that had large golden pineapples printed on it and on her feet she wore a pair of gold sandals. To finish the beach-chic look, her auburn hair was pulled back into a messy bun at the nape of her neck and she was wearing a pair of gold hooped earrings along with her Pandora bracelet.

“You look lovely.” Frank smiled at her, and she grinned back. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah…” she nodded “Can we pick Bonnie up on our way?”

“Sure.” Frank nodded, turning to Mary “Come on Stack. We’ll swing by for ice cream on our way home.” “Yesss….” Mary gave him a hi-five as they all headed for the door.

It took them about 15 minutes to get to Bonnie’s and Fliss hopped out of the jeep heading up the steps to the small villa. Frank watched her go, quite happy to appreciate her ass in the shorts she was wearing, and smiled as she turned round, Bonnie following her down the steps.

“Hi…” She greeted Frank who nodded to her as she climbed in the back of the jeep. “Hi Mary.” “Hi Miss Stevenson…” “You can call me Bonnie out of school.” The dark-haired woman chuckled

“I know.” Mary shrugged.

Bonnie hesitated for a moment as Frank and Fliss exchanged a look, the pair of them grinning at Mary’s blasé tone before Frank shook his head

“Mary…” he chastised her gently.

“What?” she looked at him.

“Just…oh, I dunno, whatever.” he mumbled, setting the car going again. Fliss and Bonnie struck up a gentle conversation about where they were going, Frank not particularly listening to be honest. His right hand absentmindedly dropped to Fliss’ bare thigh, his thumb gently rubbing at her skin and she dropped her left hand on top of his, gently intertwining their fingers.

He was almost disappointed when he pulled up outside Rio’s that she had to let go.

“Have a good time.” he said as she leaned over to give him a quick kiss.

“Will do.” she smiled “See you later Mary.”

“Yeah bye!” Mary said, hopping out of the backseat to take up the vacant front one.

“Ice cream or hot dogs?” Frank looked at her, tearing his eyes away from Fliss as her and Bonnie headed into the bar, already knowing full well what Mary’s answer would be.

“Dur…” she looked at him “I got me a hankering for some Cookies and Cream.” Frank snorted and with a final look at the bar set off towards The Shack.

****

“Did he just…” Fliss looked at Bonnie, her eyes flicking from the young man in front of her to Bonnie, then back again. They’d had a few drinks at Rio’s, then headed up to another bar a few doors down and had wandered over to see what was going on round a pool table, soon finding themselves watching three younger guys as they were racking the balls up, ready to start a game of killer. By this point they’d had a fair amount of beer and shots, so Bonnie, clearly emboldened by alcohol, had cheekily quipped to the boys that Fliss would kick their arses and one of them, a tall guy with floppy sandy hair had responded with an equally cheeky little smirk and invited the “Grandma” to join them.

“Yeah, he so did…”

“Fucking Grandma…” Fliss glared at him, snatching up a pool cue. “I’ll have you know, kid, I’m 34…not that old…” “You got 13 years on me.” he looked at her.

“Experience…” Bonnie nodded sagely “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.” “You offering?” the lad looked at Bonnie who burst out laughing

“Sorry, we’re both taken…” “With each other…” Fliss said, causing Bonnie to snort again into her drink “We’re lesbians.” “Awesome!” the guy grinned, looking Fliss up and down before he arched an eyebrow at her. “I’m Joe by the way.” “Oh, I’m Felicia and this is Linda.” Fliss said, this time causing Bonnie to choke on her gin.

“Nice to meet you…now…” Joe clapped his hands and then everyone around the table looked at him as he began to write their names on the blackboard adding 3 lines after each. The game was simple, you took your shot, if you potted you kept a life, if you missed you lost one. The last person standing was the winner.

“Money in and…”

“Oh, hang on…” Fliss looked around “I didn’t know we were competing for money…”

“You chicken?” One of the lads looked at her.

“No, I just…you know what?” She shrugged, pulling a $10 out of her purse. “Fuck it.”

“You can break.” One of the lads said and she shrugged. Taking up position she hit the ball, deliberately hitting the group of colours in the wrong place ensuring she didn’t pot one. The lads all took a turn each and on her next turn she sank a ball into the pocket, then on her next go she missed again, deliberately.

“Ok,ok…” she said, as the guys started to tease her. “You’re all so confident double up…double the money…” “Whatever…” Joe snorted, pulling another $10 note out of his pocket. Bonnie, grinned and started to play along.

“Felicia,…is that…” “Shut up Linda I got this…” She lined up and took another shot, smashing a ball at the top straight into a pocket. The lads all exchanged a look, shrugging and continued, the game. Fliss continued to nail shot after shot and eventually it came down to her and Joe on the last ball.

“So if I manage this…I win?”

“Yeah…” “Ok, top right…” Joe let out a groan as the ball dropped into the pocket. Fliss straightened up, leaning on the cue smirk on her face as she turned to the boys who were all laughing and shaking their heads.

“Here’s a tip…” she said, taking the money “Don’t call people grandma…pleasure doing business boys…”

Bonnie laughed, sliding her phone back into her pocket, as Fliss looped an arm round her shoulders and steered her back to the bar.

“Shots?”

“Yes…” An hour later they were multiple shots down and half way through a crucial game of Fuck, Marry or Kill.

“Ok…” Bonnie looked at Fliss “Fuck, Marry or Kill. All the Chrises…Evans, Hemsworth or Pratt…” “Oh man…” Fliss groaned “I mean…I’d probably kill Pratt. No offence but I couldn’t murder Thor or Cap…I just…no, not possible”

“So…which ones getting the one night treatment and which one is here to stay…”

“If I marry him does that mean I’m fucking him as well?” Bonnie paused “Yeah, I would assume so.”

“Ok, in that case I’d fuck Hemsworth, marry Evans.” Fliss said, shrugging. “Do you not think Frank as a bit of a look of him…in the face?”

“I’ve not thought about it…” Bonnie shrugged, before she grinned “I think you just have a thing for guys from Boston…”

Fliss frowned as Bonnie looked at her, her face dropping. “Shit, Fliss, sorry, I mean Frank…” Fliss couldn’t keep her face straight any longer and she burst out laughing “I know…”

“Bitch!” Bonnie nudged her on the arm and Fliss smirked, picking up another shot.

********

Frank was sprawled on the sofa, channel surfing when he heard his phone go. It was a WhatsApp message from Fliss and he opened it, giving a loud laugh as he saw her holding a shot of tequila, her face screwed up in a huge fake crying gesture.

“Bonnie is making me do shots…”

“Course she is…” he replied “And did Bonnie make you hustle those boys at pool too?” “How do you know about that?” “It’s on Facebook sweetheart, Bonnie uploaded the photo of you winning. Those poor kids stood no chance” “In my defence they called me grandma…cheeky bastards.”

Frank laughed out loud as he could just see her indignant expression. “Well that’s just fucking rude. How much did you sting em for?” “Sixty…we’ve nearly spent it all now!”

“Sixty bucks…” he mumbled to himself with a snort as he tapped his response “That’s my girl.” “Always…” she replied back, with a winking emoji and he smiled again before dropping the phone back on the coffee table as he stood up to go and grab himself another beer. Simon had already called him to say he would pick them up, which was a relief to Frank as he knew he couldn’t drag Mary out of bed at whatever time they were ready to come back, and he also wasn’t one hundred percent happy about her cabbing back alone. Stupid, he knew that, she was a grown ass woman but still. Thankfully, Simon had been on the same wavelength. With a fresh beer in his hand, he flopped back onto the sofa and resumed his channel hopping, grinning when he found that American Pie was just starting on one of the movie channels. Tossing the remote down he settled back against the cushions to watch the film, Thor jumping up besides him, his head resting against Frank’s thigh.

He had seen this film countless times, but it still reduced him to tears, and Fliss for that matter. He watched, laughing along and the end credits had just started to roll when his phone buzzed again.

“On my way to collect the girls and just a warning, Bonnie sounds smashed. Fuck knows what state they’re in” With a snort he replied “I didn’t expect anything else. Thanks Si.” He stood up and threw his empty beer bottle into the recycling, debating whether or not he wanted another. Deciding he would leave it he started to clear away the remnants of the nachos and popcorn he’d been munching on, gently re-arranged the damned scatter cushions that Fliss had made him buy, which he grudgingly had to admit were actually pretty comfy and then grabbed the recycling box and headed out to toss it into the containers, Thor hot on his heels. Just as he had finished he looked up to see Simon’s Audi pulling up at the road and he made his way over.

“Hiiiii!” Fliss grinned at him as she got out, Thor stopping by her legs and she gave him a quick pet.

“Hey…you have a good time?” Frank asked, as she gave a giggle and nodded.

“Bonnie’s fallen asleep. She can’t handle her alcohol.” she snorted and Frank looked round her to see that Bonnie was, indeed, passed out in the passenger seat.

He shook his head and leaned down to speak to Simon “Thanks pal…”

“No problem.” Simon smiled, before he cast a look at Bonnie and then back to Frank “She said she was tired, not drunk…” “And I’m the Queen of England…” Frank snorted as Simon let out a huff of a laugh. “Good luck with that…”

“Well hello your majesty…” Fliss hiccupped and Frank looked at her, grinning as she winked at him, her eyes glazed.

Simon shook his head and Frank rapped the top of his car twice as he pulled off and headed back up the road.

“Frankie…” Fliss looked at him as he dropped his arm round her shoulder.

“Yes baby girl?” “I’m hungry.” “Are you gonna stay awake long enough if I throw a pizza in the oven?” “Hey, I’m not like Bonnie, I can handle my tequila…” “Yeah, you say that now.” he grinned “Bet you won’t be tomorrow.”

“It’s Sunday…I can die on the sofa.” she shrugged, heading up the steps into the house. “But now I really need food.” Frank snorted, “Ok, I’ll throw one in. Go get changed.”

“Can you undo the button at the back of my top?” Fliss asked, spinning around. Frank obliged, gently sliding the silver pin shaped tab through the hole at the back of the collar, his hands gently rubbing her bare shoulders as she dropped a kiss to her neck. “Hey, Bonnie made a good point before…” she spun back to face him, he hands smoothing over his chest.

“And what was that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Both of us, as in me and her…have seen you naked…” she grinned, arms connecting round the back of his neck.

“Jesus Christ…”he groaned, his hands falling to her hips.

“And you’ve seen both of us naked…but we’ve never seen each other naked…” Frank looked at her for a moment, “What?” “Me and Bonnie I mean… don’t you think that’s unfair.”

Frank looked at her for a moment, stumped for words before he gave a snort of laughter at her face. She was grinning wickedly at him, mischief shining out of her eyes. “Yeah.” he nodded, seriously, fighting to keep his face straight. “Really unfair. In fact, I think it’s so unfair you should do something about it.” “You’re a pervert.” she narrowed her eyes at him as he laughed and shrugged.

“You started it…” “Technically you did when you fucked her.”

“Ouch…” Frank raised an eyebrow at her as she smirked up at him “Low blow sweetheart”

“I’ll give you a low blow later…”she winked and Frank’s eyebrow arched further up as she pulled his head down to kiss him softly “But first I need proper food…” “Well let go o’me and I’ll make you that pizza.” he reasoned.

With a final smile she kissed him again “Love you sailor.”

“Back at ya cowgirl.” he grinned, watching as she made her way to the bedroom, reasonably steadily as well all things considered, Thor padding along behind her. With a final snort and shake of his head, knowing full well she was going to be hungover to shit the next day, he turned and headed back towards the kitchen to make her something to eat.

#riding high #frank adler x ofc #frank adler #gifted fan fic #gifted

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creek-cryptid-deluxe · 3 years

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Some of you guys may remember awhile back (but not THAT long ago) that I was kind of losing my shit because The Spawn was neglecting her dog duties that she agreed to do with my dad when Indie was brought into our household. Yeah? No? Eh, either way I have an update on that.

Just a small recap for anyone who doesn’t remember or is new here (I’m still pretending that people actually read this like... for realsies): Way back in August I said no to The Spawn bringing home a dog 5 seperate times because I knew how it would end up. Then she went to my dad, who is soft, and my dad told me that he said yes, but under certain terms and conditions. (TERMS: The Spawn was to handle all expenses related to said dog, would handle all care, training, and exercise needs and at no point was responsibility for the creature to be put on me at all because I had already unwillingly taken on responsibility for Bailey via him bringing her home and I don’t need more.) I laughed and said “Yeah... sure.”

end of Sept we noticed something was wrong with pup’s left front leg. After numerous vet visits and lots of funds, Indie was put on one room, no jumping, no running restrictions from early Oct until the first week of December because her shitbag previous owner had broken that leg in 2 places and while it had almost entirely healed, it had clearly not been treated because one break was at her elbow growth plate, causing her elbow to grow out sideways. So there was an orthopedic operation to remove the already present buildup that causes arthritis, then shave down some bone and pin her elbow back together.

Since December, The Spawn has been HARDCORE slacking off on her duties to exercise the pup, who as a rat terrier/chaos demon mix has an abundance of energy that if not properly channeled and expelled, leads to significant criminal activity. The Spawn was taking her for a 30 min walk MAYBE 3 times a week and not doing any other play. Meanwhile, my broken down ass was trying to make up for it by walking her or doing HOURS of laser hunting and fetch. Dad tried to help by walking her with Bailey every night, but about 4 weeks ago that ended with him getting a broken rib because the girls saw a cat before he did and he didn’t have time to brace himself. He has been publicly banned from walking the little one.

RECAP DONE.

So me supplementing has been really wearing on me. The entire reason I don’t personally have any pets (despite very much wanting a bunny or a couple rat friends) is that I don’t have the energy to be responsible for their care. So for the last few months, every 2 weeks or so, I break down to dad, ranting and crying about how I can’t keep doing this and that he allowed this to happen, so it’s his problem and he needs to fix it like... NOW because if it continues, I’m going to get involved and I will not be nice. As in every day that she doesn’t exercise the dog properly, she will lose her tv for a day. No entertainment for her dog means no entertainment for her. He kept saying “no no no I’ll do it.” then not fucking doing it.

2 days ago, I broke. No ranting. No anger. Just broken sobs. It’s just too much. He promised AGAIN to talk to her. Well yesterday there was an incident that was the last straw for him I guess.

While he was at work, The Spawn went to walk Indie. When she does walk Indie, once for 30 mins, she’s been implementing training to get her to be better behaved on the walks because Indie suffers from barrier aggression. When on the leash, behind the fence that surrounds our yard, or behind the windows inside the house, if she sees another dog walk by she loses it. Hell when getting them ready for walks, once she is on leash, she will lose her shit on Bailey. SO The Spawn has been filling her hoodie pouch with treats and before they even leave, they go to the door, The Spawn says “Sit. Wait...Wait...” with the intent of Indie sitting until the door is open. Eventually there will be a command involved that gives Indie the all clear to get up and head out.

So they go through that yesterday around 3 or 4 in the afternoon. They depart for their walk around the neighborhood and within a few minutes I hear Indie’s “I’m losing my shit” bark/snarl combo and The Spawn yelling commands at her. A minute or two later, The Spawn storms in with Indie in tow and says “Well since she decided she can’t behave, we aren’t walking today.” And I looked at her skeptically from across the room because dogs don’t work like that AND exercise is not a privilege for dogs, it’s a necessity. So not walking her because she misbehaved would be on par with me not allowing The Spawn dinner because she misbehaved. Then, seeing my face, The Spawn says “She needs to learn that there are consequences for her actions.”

Y’ALL. I involuntarily laughed, so I had to turn away from her and pretend I was coughing. Let’s talk about why I find this hilarious. This statement came from a 16 yr old child who a few weeks ago was asked to watch the dogs for a couple hours while I went to grandma’s to help her with something. I had been reminding her DAILY for a week that this was happening. As I expected, she tried to weasel out of it. I told her that it wasn’t up for discussion, she was doing it, and that I had phrased it as a question as a courtesy. She began to argue. I told her 3 times over the span of an hour that if she didn’t stop arguing that there would be consequences. She chose to continue, so she found herself grounded from her tv and car for the day. (At the end of that hour and after 3 warnings, all via text and verifiable, I finally just told her to bring me her keys. She chose, instead, to come downstairs, empty handed, and CONTINUE to argue, so she lost the tv too.) She threw a massive tantrum which ended with her screaming and crying to my dad about how abusive and mean I am. *insert eyeroll from both of us* All over, what? The consequences of her own actions.

So you see why this was funny. Anyway, I let her go upstairs and text dad that we needed to talk when he arrived and to text me so I could meet him out in the garage.

I met him out there and relayed the events to him. He also involuntarily laughed about the dog needing to learn that her actions have consequences. Then he said “Ok, I’m talking to her tonight.”

Now, my dad has a signature move for when he has to have tough or unpleasant conversations. He says “Let’s go get ice cream.” I think it’s meant to soften the blow while also catching the person off guard and being in public for less chance of a scene.

Anyway, they talked. The overall gist was “we made a deal. the deal is not being upheld. Bailey is a much lower energy dog but still requires 2 seperate 4 mile walks a day, and your high energy PUPPY is getting 1/4 of that at best on most days and your mom and I have been picking up the slack as best we can but that has resulted in a broken rib for me and your mom is really at the end of her rope and has been unable to actually rest for a full couple days like she needs to recover from all the random shit she does for you like covering kettle corn and berries in chocolate.”

The Spawn tried to make excuses. “I’m in school full time AND working.” My dad responded with: “First of all, you aren’t in school full time because you do 2 hrs a day in person and then another hour online AT MOST 5 days a week, then work 4-6 hrs at night 4 days a week. Second of all, I work 13 hrs a day 5 days a week and yet I still find a way to make sure my dog’s needs are met via a 4-6 mile walk before work and another in the evening after dark, unless your mom is up to pokemon in the park, which Bailey comes with us for and gets significantly more walks. So that excuse is b.s.”

She mentioned that she tried that day but she misbehaved. dad told her that no matter how she is behaving, walks are not negotiable. Then he used my dinner analogy. She finally gave up trying to make excuses to be lazy and told him that on days she doesn’t have both work and school she will do 2 hrs worth of walks. (I mentioned to dad that this leaves 3 days a week where she is implying she doesn’t have to do anything. he said he will address that but not that night.)

To her credit, The Spawn has done 2 hour long walks today. She even came up with a plan. The first half of each is structured walk/training time and the second half will be at the dog park across the street so that she has unstructured running time where she can get up to full speed. Keeps her from getting frustrated and bored on the walk and allows her to get full speed runs in without killing The Spawn’s knees.

We shall see how this holds up long term. Fingers crossed and all that.

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honeyhenry · 5 years

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Brother Bubba

this was my first piece of writing so I'm extremely nervous posting! pls be kind if offering any feedback. also this took way longer to write than I intended so I’m sorry if anyone has been waiting for it!

word count: 2k+

warnings: pregnant!reader, lots of fluff, copious amounts of Dodger Evans

enjoy!

Chris sighs as he pulls the large BMW into the driveway. He had of course, ensured that the journey from the hospital was cautious and careful - completely different from the journey taken from home to the hospital only 2 days ago. In his defence, you had yelled at him, telling him to “step on it, I refuse to have this baby in a car Chris I swear!!”

So this time, on the journey back to the large 5-bedroom house, he stays vigilant despite being away for most of the last 48 hours, wary of every turn on the drive home, holding the most precious cargo that at one point he could only possibly dream of. His wife and newborn son.

His family.

For the majority of his career, Chris had been known as one of America’s finest bachelors. Sure, he had friends to hang out with, and a schedule that led to a series of relationships burning out, or indeed them lighting his house on fire with him trapped inside. Metaphorically, of course. And so it had been just him, until one life changing moment a few years ago. Suddenly, it wasn’t just him, anymore.

Because then came Dodger.

Chris’ best friend in the whole world and someone who he could rely on for company, loyalty, and comfort. Chris wanted the whole “picket fence” life, and had thought that he may as well be a step ahead with adopting a fun energetic dog. There had been an instantaneous love and trust between the two, and so Chris reckoned that anyone who he wanted to keep in his life for the long-term, had to pass the Dodger test. Anything less than love and respect shown by and towards the sweet dog, was a small but still quite blaring red flag.

But Dodger had taken to you, almost instantly in fact. He saw you as wholesome and trustworthy, even when Chris himself was still working out what your relationship was blossoming into. Whether Dodger’s adoration of you was due to your character, or the fact that you always loved to sneak him some treats whenever his owner wasn’t looking, Chris couldn’t be sure. But he was glad of Dodger’s approval even during the awkward “what exactly are we?” stage in the beginning.

It was safe to say that the pup had in fact deduced your character, as even though the treats had eventually been halted - ”Y/N, he’s getting a bit of a belly and we’re running low on treats” - Dodger made sure to have a toy or pillow just to give to you when you started going round to Chris’ place more. You were so good to Chris - you made him question if he’d ever fully lived before meeting you, and so Dodger didn’t mind that he was kept out of his owner’s room every now and then. As long as it was made up for in the morning with snuggles that Dodger knew he could get from you. Whenever Chris would leave to go to the bathroom, he’d come back to find that you’d let Dodger in to cuddle and pet him.

“You’re gonna replace me with Dodge, Y/N? Really? My own mutt?” he’d ask, mock hurt while you giggled from between the sheets, stroking Dodger’s soft fur.

“Well it’s hardly my fault you Evans boys are so whiny for cuddles”

And so, after two happy, loving years spent with Chris and his closest buddy, navigating through this new life you’d created together, Chris knew you were the one.

He’d have told Dodger the proposal plans, alongside a couple of your and his own family members.

“S’not just gonna be you and me anymore bubba; but that’s a good thing I promise. Gonna make sure you have lots of friends to play with though, a bigger house and a bigger yard to run around in. Mom and I are gonna be forever bubba, and you’re always in the picture, i promise.”

And he fully kept his promise, only delighted to do so when you cried and said yes as he had got down on one knee. The wedding was held a year on from that night he proposed, and only a month following your honeymoon, you found out that Dodger would have a little friend to play with after all.

During your pregnancy, Dodger was incredibly protective of you. Sometimes not even Chris was allowed past Dodger, particularly after a day at work when he’d been working and ended up smelling or looking different to his normal dusky scent and fresh face. Dodger liked to bark and growl at whoever got what he deemed to be too close, to make sure you weren’t left vulnerable and alone with nothing but a belly full of Evans.

You never had to complain about a lack of love or protection - not with your two boys almost fighting over you for cuddles or kisses. Most nights, Dodger would put his big fluffy head on your stomach and rest there, being as close as he could to his growing friend. It was fair to say that Dodger’s big head and Chris’ hands fought for who got to feel the baby move around the most.

Baby Evans would be completely impartial of course, rolling around for anyone who brought a sense of comfort. Nobody missed out - you were all family.

Therefore, as Dodger has truly been part of so much of your life, it was only fair that Chris felt bad for leaving him for the past 2 days. Of course, his sister had come over to feed him and play with him, however Chris wanted to make sure that his bubba knew he’d not been forgotten by you or him.

But leaving had been worth it, as this time, you and Chris now return to your family home with someone brand new for your lovable dog to meet.

After parking the car, he turns to face you in the backseat as you gaze fondly over the tiny person wrapped up and buckled into the big clunky safe car seat. Your little angel, your honeymoon baby who was most definitely conceived in the villa you’d rented out for 3 weeks in The Bahamas for your honeymoon.

Your husband smiles at you, watching you interact with your son. You feel his gaze on you and you look up to him, not even the impact of the sheer exhaustion you felt course through your body, could change how lovingly he looked at you. It still makes you blush.

“I love him so much.” You whisper, to Chris, to yourself, to anyone who will listen. “ And yes, before you ask, he’s totally fine, still hasn’t woken up. he’s even clutching his tiny teddy.” Chris looks at you the same way you’ve been looking at your newborn son. In utter adoration.

However he soon springs into action, helping you out of the car, using his strength to lift out the baby carrier from the backseat. He gently fixes the blanket on top of his son’s tiny body, a blanket knitted for the newborn Evans by his Chris’ own Ma - now a Grandma to his own child, not just his nieces and nephews. He smiles at the thought of his whole family getting to meet his son, and his son getting to grow up in a huge family full of love and laughter. Putting the carrier next to you at the front door, he retrieves the rest of the luggage, before he grabbing his keys to open the door.

He hears a bark. Then another. And then, a few excitable, louder woofs.

You can both hear Dodger jumping up at the door and so mutually decide for Chris to enter first, going straight to the mutt, cuddling him and letting him jump around in excitement. Chris fluffs his pup’s ears as he laughs at Dodger’s rambunctious behaviour, getting all his pent up energy out while you try to sneak past the two of them having their moment, taking the baby carrier to the living room.

“Hey Dodge! Yeah it’s me, your old man, and Mom is here too!!! Yeah Mommy’s here!! And we have a big surprise for you - we’re gonna introduce you to your new brother! Your baby brother huh, yeah that’s right bubba!” Chris smiles, still laughing and talking away to Dodger who he’s missed just as much the past couple of days. It makes you so happy to see the bond between your man and his ever loyal dog.

Before you know it, Dodger has lost interest in Chris - “Sorry Chris, I guess I’m his favourite now” you had said when you first got together - keen to see you and whatever the new smelling thing is that you’ve brought home.

Finally, the momentous occasion had arrived. the first meeting of Chris’ special boys. You had both been a little nervous for the newest arrival to be introduced to Dodger, given how loving and excitable he could be. But you both trusted him, and your gut instincts, and decided that if you wanted everything to be as normal as possible, then Dodger was going to be with you all from the first day you bring the baby home, and start their sure to be close bond from then.

You take your son out, cradling him close to your chest. From Dodger’s viewpoint, he can see Mom, but also two tiny socked feet. Chris is holding his bubba’s collar, but only loosely as Dodger settles down beside you quickly and quietly.

“Okay easy bud, we’re gonna introduce you now to someone really special. Good boy, Dodge, nice and calm.” Dodger sits patiently, still sniffing at the new smell, but can tell that whatever is happening is important.

You smile, thankful that your pup is staying true to his kind nature. “It’s ok Chris, he’s fine. Dodge honey - this is CJ.”

You lower down your sweet baby to your lap where Dodger can see. CJ is a small, delicate bundle, with a soft mop of dark hair, while his long delicate lashes rest on soft cheeks. You’ve only seen his little peepers once today as you changed him before you left the hospital, but it’s only when Dodger nudges a foot with his nose that CJ opens his eyes again. You smile, and Chris breathes a sigh of relief as Dodger makes no plans to act suddenly or nastily.

“Yeah sweetheart” you address the bundle on your lap, “that’s Dodger. That’s your big brother. He’s been looking after you so much already, and you’re gonna have so much fun with him.” Dodger rests his head on your lap by the sweet boy and sniffs at him, while CJ slowly flutters his big eyes, sleep planning to take him once more.

“Good boy Dodge...good job buddy” Chris pats Dodger, as he watches the scene before him slowly unfold, just as it had in his dreams. Dodgers big eyes are just staring at the baby, and apart from the odd sniff now and then, he doesn’t move. Already, he wants to make sure that his little buddy is good.

You turn to Chris. “See, I told you he’d be fine”.

CJ closes his eyes ready for some more sleep and Dodger turns to look at Chris, which makes him laugh softly.

“Yeah bud he can’t play right now, not like your old man here. But give him a little while and he’ll be chasing you round the garden like nobody’s business.”

Chris goes to give his oldest bud more pats, wanting to let him know what a good job he’s doing already, but quickly Dodger rushes off, only to return with his favourite toy lion, planting it on your lap right next to your newborn son.

“Ohhh thank you bubba”, you nearly cry at the sweet gesture. “What do you say CJ? We say ‘Thank you Dodger’”.

Chris smiles. He’ll take the hospital stuff upstairs later but for now you’re his priority. Well, not just you now, but baby CJ too. His family.

He looks at Dodger resting his head by his lion and CJ, knowing already that the loyal pup would do anything for his little brother. He made no mistake in starting this family with a loveable, trustworthy dog.

He couldn’t have chosen a better best friend and protector for his son, Chris reckons.

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

let me know what you think!

i am also taking requests for drabbles & lists!

#chris evans x reader #chris evans writing #chris evans au #dodger evans #daddy!chris evans #daddy!chris #chris evans #my writing

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megara-the-jedi · 4 years

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A/N: This is just an OC story. If you wanna read it, you can, If you wanna make suggestions you can. I've been working on this character since the shoe came out, but I'm just now getting to writing it. The only thing that's really a big decision is either just have her end up single or with someone, so we'll see.

OC's name is Carlie Brooks. Her family has money, but due to her parents being out of town constantly for work, she lives with her grandma. Her older brother, Carson, is out of town for college. She happens to have a Jeep Wrangler, but like the rest of the Pogues, takes rides with John B. I'll explain more as we go.

That Summer

If you were a normal person living on the Outer Banks, when you thought of Carlie Brooks, you thought of her bright personality and her even brighter smile. However, if you were a “kook” on the Outer Banks, you thought of her as a traitor when she barely considered herself a “kook.” If you were a “pogue,” she was the friendliest person you could meet.

Her parents were considered kooks, while her brother and her were considered pogues due to the people that they hung out with. It didn’t matter though as her parents were barely home during summer except for social events and they weren’t there during the school year either and the fact that she was basically living with her grandmother.

The sunrise was beautiful, Carlie thought to herself as she took another sip of beer as her friends walked around a beach house that was being built. John B. was trying to balance on the roof, JJ was sitting on scaffolding next Carlie, and Pope was messing with the tools. Kiara, or more commonly known Kie, was walking through the house, looking at everything.

“That’s what, a three-story fall to the deck?” Pope said, looking up at John B. “I’d give you about one-in-three chance survival.”

John B. hummed in response, stuck his finger in his mouth, brought it back out to test the wind. Carlie leaned forward against the railing of the scaffolding.

“Should I do it?” He asked.“Yeah, jump.”

Pope raised the drill in his hand, “I’ll shoot you on the way down.”

“You’ll shoot me?” responded John B.“

They’re gonna have Japanese toilets and towel warmers.” Kie came out of the house and onto the porch.

JJ scoffed, “Of course. Why wouldn’t they?” Carlie laughed. It all sounded ridiculous.

“This used to be a turtle habitat, but who cares about the turtles?” Kie said, taking in another look around the construction zone.

“I mean, I can’t have cold towels.” JJ remarked.

Carlie laughed. “Yeah, ‘cause that’s what’s important here.” JJ nudged her arm with his.

Kie turned to look up at John B, “Can you please not kill yourself?”

“And don’t spill the beer,” JJ said, following that with a swig of his own. “I won’t be giving you another.”

This statement, of course, was followed by John B dropping his beer.

“Of course, you did. Right when tell you not to.” John B groaned at JJ’s comment, while Carlie laughed and took a swig of her own beer.

Pope walks over to the side of the back porch. “Uh, guys, security’s here.” Pope turned to face them, “Let’s wrap it up.”

Carlie looks at JJ, shoving him to move, before making a move herself to jump off the scaffolding.

“The boys are early today” John B remarks as JJ turns to him, “let’s roll, Humpty Dumpty.”

Carlie lands on the wood and walks towards Kie, who says “let’s go boys.”

JJ thought that this would be a good time to mock the security guard.

“Hey Gary, is that you? It’s me! Good to see you!”

Carlie called out, but couldn’t stop smiling, “JJ, stop it!”

“You’re asking for it” Kie added.

“JJ!”” The guard, Gary, yelled out.

JJ took off, the rest following. Carlie, thankful that she was wearing actual shoes for once.

Gary yelled for them stop, but they didn’t, laughing as they ran and zigzagged through the house’s structure.

JJ almost running straight into the guard, luckily avoiding any hand that Gary had out. Carlie, who was following JJ, managed to avoid Gary, by running past JJ. She barely heard Gary call out, guessing that there was another guard.

“Go Pope! Carlie go!” That she heard, JJ close behind.

Carlie, happy that she had a running start, went over the fence gracefully. Well, as gracefully as one could who had been drinking and was basically running on pure adrenaline at that point.

She heard JJ yell something at Pope, who had fallen, and she ran towards the van. She hopped in and JJ and Pope followed closely.

“Look, Gary’s going for a raise!” John B laughed.

The door hadn’t closed yet, so JJ took another opportunity to mock the guard.

“You guys are gonna give him a heart attack.”

Carlie crawled into the front seat, knowing that JJ was gonna be a handful.

Eventually, JJ threw a beer towards Gary, who had caught it.

“They ain’t payin’ you enough, man.” JJ said as Kie pulled him back in.

Soon enough, they passed the Outer Banks sign.

Underneath the town name were the words “Paradise on Earth.”

In a way, it was. To Carlie, it was home. It was where her parents weren’t, as they were always away on business. It was where she grew up, living with her grandmother. She had a great group of friends here.

However, there was a slight difference in her family and friends.

Her parents were considered “kooks,” which meant they were rich, but only because they both worked. They also had a house on the Figure Eight. Lucky for Carlie and her older brother, Carson, their college and other things needed were paid for. Unfortunately, Carson and Carlie hated the “kook” lifestyle. They, like their parents, rather earn their keep. However, while living with their grandmother, they didn’t have to due to their parents giving them money. In return, Carlie used the money on her friends when she could, but mainly used it for her Jeep Wrangler. She saved up a majority of her money for that car.

She was considered a “pogue” because she lived on The Cut side of the island. All of her friends were there and her grandma, too. She felt more at home and at peace on this side of the town than the other.

Carlie watched as the Figure Eight went and turned into The Cut. The scenery only really changing when it came to the homes on the sides of the road.

This may be the time to introduce the friends she mentioned earlier.

John B. Routledge, basically the leader of the group. He drove the gang everywhere. His dad went missing while searching for a shipwreck off the coast nine months ago, so his house was always the hotspot of their hangouts, but it was like that beforehand.

JJ Maybank, also known as John B’s best friend. He was Carlie’s as well. He came from a long line of fisherman and was great surfer, but nobody tells him because it would inflate his ego if he knew.

Carlie had known JJ and John B since elementary school. Her grandma would look after them when their parents would ask. When those two would go off and get in a mess of their own, Carlie was right there beside them. In a way, they were the reason that she had a taste of freedom and was never going back.

Pope Heyward, the only one in the group with a scholarship and a possible way out of this town. Very intelligent, very reliable. His dad was pretty lit, though. If you needed anything, you went to Heyward.

Kiara Carerra, or as everyone calls her, Kie. She was constantly trying to save the turtles and the environment. Carlie wasn’t exactly sure why she hungout with them, but she couldn’t judge Kie as she was they were the same with the rich parents shit. Only hers were involved in her everyday life. Kie’s parents actually owned The Wreck, a local restaurant that was a hit with the tourists. Also, all the guys in the group had some kind of thing for her.

Life was going on. Although, John B was being threatened with being tossed into foster caee due to his father’s absence and the (true) rumors of him living by himself.

And then Hurricane Agatha came.

#obx #obx fanfiction #original character #Carlie Brooks #JJ #JJ Maybank #Pope #Pope Heyward #Kie #kie carrera #kiara carrera #John B #john b routledge

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flowers-creativity · 4 years

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Whumptober Day #14

Fandom: Stranger Things

Characters: Max Mayfield, original character

Warnings: None

Summary: Max’s walk home is longer than anticipated.

Notes: /

AO3 link

Max tried to wet her lips with the tip of her tongue but it only grated unpleasantly over their rough surface, just as dry as they were.

This was ridiculous. She could deal with some heat – she was a California native!

Only, she had forgotten that she was a pale, red-headed California native … And though Indiana might have been a few degrees less hot than California at this time of the year, it was a different heat. No ocean nearby to send a cool breeze her way, just dry, thick air that dragged through her lungs like sand.

The girl sighed. If only she had taken Steve's offer … But her mom was supposed to pick her up. And if only she had her board … But no, that had been Neil's latest discipline. Max knew better than to complain about it. She knew what Neil's discipline could look like, too. She knew, and she was dreading the day when he would turn it on her. No more Billy to draw his ire.

She shook off the thought like she always did. Thinking about Billy didn't help. Neither did thinking about Neil. For now, she just counted her blessings that he just took her board, and that it meant she had to walk when her mom didn't show up. It just was too hot today … Her head had started to hurt a quarter an hour into her walk, and without her board, it was about an hour until she was home. Still twenty minutes to go.

She blinked in the afternoon sun. She should have worn the sunglasses she had bought with El at the mall, they would keep her from squinting so hard that her headache was getting worse. Everything was kind of fuzzy around the edges, too. She was tired, a bone-deep weariness that was unfamiliar to her. But she could lie down and rest when she got home, so she doggedly put one foot after the other. She wasn't sure where her mom was but at least Neil wouldn't be home for another few hours. Blessed, Neil-free hours in a cool, shady house … The thought of lying down on her bed, after drinking a huge glass of water, was almost hypnotic, and her dry throat ached with longing. Soon, she promised herself. She was coming up on her neighbourhood, three or four streets to go. She blinked again. Things were not only fuzzy, but they were also kind of wobbly, too. Or was that her?

It was only two streets now, she was basically home. But she was getting really dizzy … The next step had her stumble on the curb, and before she knew it, she was sitting down right there on the street.

Maybe she should just take a short break. It might be nicer to rest at home, with water in her cool, dark room, but she'd get there in a bit. Just a short rest. She wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her aching head against her knees, relishing the little shade her hair provided for her reddened face.

Someone touched her shoulder, and she startled upright, one arm raised to ward off whoever that was. For a moment, she only saw a dark shape outlined against the bright sunshine, and she squinted at it to get it into focus.

“--honey?” the shape was saying, and together with the sound, the image in front of her solidified into an older woman, almost grandma-age. She was leaning over Max, the lined face worried. “Are you alright?”

“Hmm,” Max returned, which was no answer at all. Her tongue felt too big for her mouth. “I--”

“Oh dear,” the woman clucked, shaking her head. “You're soaked with sweat! And your face is so red – I hope you put on some sunscreen, sweetie, pale as you are!”

Max tried to follow her words but it was hard. Her head hurt. “No, I'm-- it's okay,” she finally managed to say.

The woman crouched closer, and Max wrapped her arms around herself to keep still. “I think you're heat-sick, poor girl! Let me get you some water. Do you live nearby? I've seen you around but normally, you've got one of those skateboard things, don't you? Why are you walking today, did you break it? I've got a grandson your age, he constantly breaks his things. Terrible. But you're a sweet girl, I'm sure you're more careful.”

Max blinked at the torrent of words and latched onto the one word she had actually registered. “Water?” she asked hopefully.

“Oh, right, sorry. I'm an old chatterbox.” The woman smiled at her and got up. “I'll be back in a minute, sweetie. Don't go anywhere!”

Max smiled faintly. “I won't,” she promised and let her head fall forward again when she heard the woman's steps head away.

A few moments later, she was back, and Max gratefully accepted the water glass, even though she was disturbed that her hands were actually trembling and she had to take the glass in both hands. But the first taste was the sweetest she had ever had, and she had to fight hard with herself not to drain the glass in one go but stop halfway through to take a deep breath. The woman had placed a hand on her back and was speaking to her in a low, soothing voice: “Shhh, take it slow, girl, you'll make yourself sick.”

Finally, Max had finished the glass and slumped back, holding it out to the woman. “Thank you,” she said hoarsely.

“You're welcome, my dear.” The woman beamed at her and took the glass. “Are you close to home? You better go home and lay down a bit somewhere cool. I'd say my Thomas can give you a ride but he's went to the store, I don't know when he'll be back. But if you want, you can come in and rest a bit until he does?”

“Oh-oh no!” Max shot upright and jumped to her feet, which was a mistake – black spots were popping before her eyes, and she swayed. The woman's hand shot out and grabbed her elbow, supporting her until Max felt herself steady. She took a deep breath and told her: “You're really nice, thank you. But that's not necessary, I'm almost home. We live in Cherry Road.” She pulled back her arm self-consciously – one good thing about her head probably being as red as her hair from the heat, the woman wouldn't be able to tell that Max was feeling herself blushing furiously. “Thank you so much for the water but really, it's okay. I can make it on my own now.”

The old woman scrutinised her for a moment worriedly but in the end, she shook her head. “If you say so, dear. Just take it slow and take care, alright?”

“I will,” Max promised. She gave the woman a smile and wave and then set off again. When she turned the corner, she glanced back over her shoulder and saw her still standing at the fence, watching her go. Max felt another blush burn her face, and she hurried on. She would never be able to tell the others that a grandma had saved her from death by heatstroke, they would mock her so much for being a dumbass who walked home in the heat and almost keeled over two streets from her destination …

Well, maybe she would tell Lucas.

For now, she breathed a sigh of relief when she closed the door behind her, and the house greeted her with silence and sweet, cool air.

#whumptober2020 #no.14 #heat exhaustion #fanfiction #stranger things #Max Mayfield #flower writes

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idiot-extraordinaire · 4 years

Text

We Could Happen

Summary:

AU. The last thing Santana Lopez expects when her best friend asks her to cat-sit is to find something with the blonde in apartment 1812.

Title after the AJ Rafael song.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13667414/1/We-Could-Happen https://archiveofourown.org/works/25812445

Santana Lopez is not what you would call a "pet person".

Her experience with pets involved a goldfish when she was five, who didn't last till the end of the month, a pregnant hamster that gave birth, ate it's young and promptly died a few days later when she was eight and the neighbour's pitbull, who had a habit of standing with it's head over the fence and barking loudly as it jumped up and down, terrifying her every time she walked home from the bus stop.

There was also her cousin's cat, who managed to scratch up her furniture the weekend she agreed to cat-sit and the parrot her ex-girlfriend had that flew out of its cage and pooped on her favorite leather jacket, so yeah.

Santana didn't hate animals, but she did prefer that she not be in close proximity with them for extended periods of time. She much preferred the pictures of puppies and kittens that circulated on Instagram than actually having to be near one. It was perfect, all cute and no responsibility.

Which is why she almost strangled Quinn when her best friend informed her she was going to be leaving her cat in Santana's care for the foreseeable future.

"What do you mean your cat is going to be staying with me?"

"I'm being seconded to our London office," Quinn informs her. "They said six months, but it could be up to a year. I can't take Charlie with me."

"Why can't you leave him with someone else?"

"Sam and Kurt's buildings don't allow pets."

"What about Mercedes?"

"Mercedes is going on tour in a few weeks, she can't bring him."

"Yes, she can. It'll be like part of her act."

"Santana…"

"Leave him with your mom, then!"

"Santana, I'm not flying to Lima to drop him off at my mom's, when you're perfectly capable of taking care of Charlie."

"Look Q," Santana retorted. "If I wanted to take care of a cat, I would buy a cat. But I don't want one, so Charlie will just have to find somewhere else to stay."

"Come on."

"What happens if I bring a girl over? I can't just have this cat getting all up in my business while I'm trying to get my mack on!"

"He's a cat, not a child!"

"I don't have the space."

"You live in a two bedroom apartment! You have a room for your shoes!"

"Okay, first of all, it's one and a half bedrooms!" That was true, the real-estate agent had advertised it that way, which was perfect for Santana since a "half bedroom" provided a perfect excuse to never have houseguests. "And second, it's full, so there's nowhere for him to stay."

"He doesn't need his own room," Quinn rolled her eyes. "Your place is more than big enough."

"What about someone from your office? How about Ken doll? Or what's-her-face with the ugly shoes? It won't matter if he pees in them," Santana rattles off names.

"Santana, please don't make this difficult," Quinn sighed as Santana crossed her arms over her chest, indignantly. "Don't make me call it in," she says, almost warningly.

Santana narrows her eyes. "You wouldn't."

What Quinn was referring to was the favor that Santana agreed to let her call in, one time only, no questions asked.

Over the years, Santana had gotten pretty good at letting one-night-stands know that that was exactly what it was , a one night stand. It saved a lot of confusion and hurt and awkward conversations in the morning, but once in a while, even the best could slip up.

It was a few months ago when the morning after, it became obvious that Santana's latest one-night-stand intended for their relationship to become...well, a relationship, and Santana informing her that it wasn't going to become one didn't work either.

It became painfully clear to Santana that she'd taken home a crazy person and she called Quinn, who was on her way to a big meeting. Santana had pleaded with her that it would only take five minutes and that she'd owe her huge so her friend complied.

Fifteen minutes later, Quinn showed up at Santana's apartment to play the scorned girlfriend. She went on, screaming and crying about how Santana could do this to her after they were together for five years, how awful she was for cheating (on their anniversary no less) and even threw in an "I should have listened to my mother about you!" for good measure.

She really sold it. Santana was convinced Quinn was going to slap her across the face, when she heard the front door click shut behind her and Quinn turn off the waterworks.

"There, she's gone. Now move, I need to touch up my makeup before I go to my meeting," Quinn replied nonchalantly, strolling past Santana and into the bathroom.

Quinn was only five minutes late to her meeting, but Santana had to keep her promise and officially owed Quinn one favour that she was allowed to call in at any time.

Apparently, this was it.

"You're calling in the favour over your cat?"

"Apparently, I have to," Quinn rolled her eyes and let out a sigh, before the corners of her mouth turned up in a smirk. "Which means that you really can't say no."

Santana really wanted to slap that stupid smirk off her best friend's face. But alas, a deal was a deal and she'd sealed her fate on that morning many months ago when she took home that crazy (though admittedly hot) girl who really took that U-haul stereotype to heart.

Live and learn, she figured.

And that was how Santana Lopez ended up as guardian to the calico, Charlie.

"I expect him to be in the same condition when I come back," Quinn warned her, on the day he was dropped off before his human departed for London.

"No promises, Q," Santana rolled her eyes.

"I'll call to check in."

"I'm an adult, I'll be fine without you."

"I meant on him."

"When did you turn into a crazy cat lady?" Santana cracked.

Quinn's little goodbye with her cat stretched out to twenty minutes, not including the two- hour-long orientation she gave Santana about vet appointments, shots, food, litter boxes, his pet carrier and everything in between.

When the front food shut, signalling Quinn's exit, Santana looked down at Charlie, who in turn just stared up at her and meowed.

"Ok listen, we need to get one thing clear, now that your crazy mom isn't here to save you," Santana dropped down so she was closer to eye-level with the cat. "I'll do all the vet appointments and the cat food and even emptying out your nasty-ass litter-box, but if you ever pee in one of my shoes, you are done here," she said in a low growl.

Charlie meowed again and licked his paw. Santana decided to take that as an understanding.

----------

Charlie is actually not bad. Santana won't go as far as to say she enjoys having him around, but she doesn't hate it.

He walked around the apartment like he owned the place and climbed up on the furniture, but all things considered he was pretty good. He went in his litter box and knew his feeding routine.

During the first week, Santana came home from work to find the legs of her coffee table totally scratched up. She brought out the eyesore that was his bright blue scratching post on full display in her living room so that he could use it instead, but Quinn informed her that Charlie was probably just getting antsy from being alone in the apartment all week.

Santana installed a kitty door so that he'd be free to roam about the apartment complex during the day and come home when he needed and leave her damn stuff alone. Since then, he seemed calmer when he was indoors and would take to lying on the couch next to her when she was watching TV.

So yeah. Santana figured having Charlie around wasn't the worst thing in the world.

She could, however, do without Quinn's constant need for updates on her cat. Based on her social media posts, Quinn was having the time of her life in London, meeting new people and going to new places.

However, based on her messages to Santana - it seemed less like she was a socially active woman in her twenties living it up, and more like she was a fifty year old cat-mom missing her cat-child, with nothing else to do.

[Quinn]: Did you feed him today?

[Quinn]: He likes the chicken flavour.

[Quinn]: Is he getting enough exercise?

[Quinn]: Can you send me pics of him?

[Quinn]: You're giving him baths regularly, right Satan?

[Quinn]: If anything seems wrong TAKE HIM TO THE VET

[Quinn]: How is he today?

Santana got so tired of the messages that eventually she started trolling Quinn so that the blonde would leave her alone.

[Santana]: Congrats, grandma! Charlie knocked up the neighbour's cat. You have nine of them to come home to!

[Santana]: Cats can drink scotch right? Cause I accidentally poured the wrong thing into his bowl.

[Santana]: Charlie's a persian right? Cause that's who's sitting on my couch rn.

-----------

Santana had settled into routine with her new roommate. It wasn't like she had to walk the cat or anything, so she made sure that there was food in his bowl before she left for work and he was usually home by the time she got back anyway.

In between she guessed that he was wandering the neighbourhood looking for mice or whatever it is that cats do. Whatever, he didn't touch her shoes and her furniture and frankly that was the best she could hope for.

Work on the other hand, left much to be desired.

Santana was the youngest person in management at one of the most promising new marketing and PR agencies in Los Angeles. She'd been there since interning in her senior year of college and knew the ins and outs of the business better than almost anyone. She was sharp, effective and knew how to get things done. It also meant that she spent too much time at the office.

You know what they say, if you need something done, give it to the busiest person at the office.

"Miss Lopez," her assistant, Marley, stepped into the door of her office. "The Mucusin people are here."

Mucusin was a new over-the-counter cold medicine soon to be released in stores. Santana had advised them to change the name, but they were pretty adamant about keeping it so it seemed like she was going to have her work cut out for her.

"Send them in."

-----------

So it turned out the Mucusin people were not only married to the name, but to the idea of keeping the packaging green.

Santana had to fight an eyeroll when she gave that directive to the design team to come up with a few samples incorporating that particular shade of green.

When she finally got home, she spotted Charlie, sitting on the arm of the couch, waiting for her and meowing expectantly.

"Yeah, yeah, you'll get your food," she grumbled, putting her things down, opening a can of Cat Chow and emptying it into his bowl.

Once she'd fulfilled her obligation, she ordered some food for herself on her phone and headed into the shower, wishing to wash all the stress of the day off before her dinner arrived.

She eats in front of the TV, when she notices that Charlie barely touches his food. Santana squints at him. He looked... different, something was off.

She gets distracted when Real Housewives comes on.

It's probably nothing.

-----------

Santana makes a hundred cat-lady jokes at Quinn's expense before complying when Quinn asks Santana to help her face-time Charlie.

"Oh my God, Santana!"

"What?"

"Why's he so fat? What have you been feeding him?"

"I just feed him the stuff you told me to buy, it's not cheap by the way, Q," she flips the camera back around so that Quinn's facing her and not the cat. "I don't even know what the big deal is, he looks-"

Santana's about to say fine when she gets a good look at the cat for the first time in weeks. That stupid Mucusin campaign's been taking up all her attention, that she didn't even notice. Charlie's gotten fat.

"I told you, you better return him in the same condition you got him!" Quinn chastises.

"Well, I'm not returning him yet," Santana huffs. "And I didn't take you for a fat-shamer, Lucy Caboosey."

Quinn scowls at that remark. "Seriously, calicos are supposed to weigh like 7 or 8 pounds. How much does he weigh?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know? He was supposed to have a vet appointment last week!"

"Yeah but I didn't finish that Mucusin campaign until yesterday. I thought it would be fine to delay it by a week."

"Satan, I swear to God-"

"I'll take him!" Santana sighs exaggeratedly. "God, the way you fuss over your cat, wouldn't it be easier to just have a child?"

"Santana-"

"It'll be fine," she eyes the cat from his place by the coffee table. "He hasn't gotten that fat has he?"

"Yes!"

-----------

Santana takes Charlie to the vet and in six weeks in her care he's managed to put on five pounds. It's not a good look.

The vet recommends some diet cat food and that Charlie get some exercise. Since he's already out the whole day, Santana buys the way too expensive diet cat food and hopes that it will fix the situation.

She's not thrilled with the idea of having to spend her weekends taking the cat for a walk.

After another week, she manages to wrestle him onto the bathroom scale for long enough to see that he's not losing weight.

The mystery of the cat's weight gain finally gains traction while she's at work and her boss, Shelby pulls her into her office.

"Cheating scandal broke today," she places a file down in front of Santana.

"What are we dealing with?"

"Throat Explosion's lead singer came down with a case of mono, gave it to his girlfriend."

"So?"

"So, the day after, the bassist comes down with a case of mono too. The girlfriend's an actress, she's getting a pretty big following and the singer's taking a lot of heat. She kicked him out."

"He slept with the bassist?"

Shelby nods. "There were rumors before, but no one ever bothered to address it, they thought it would go away."

"Well it's not going to now. What do they want us to do?"

"What do you think?" Shelby raised a brow. "PR. They need damage control."

-----------

#Monogate gave Santana the breakthrough she needed. There was a third party involved. If she wasn't making changes to his diet and he was roaming about all day, there must be an external reason as to why he was gaining weight.

It's a Saturday when Santana finally decides that today will be the day she figures out who's been fattening up the cat.

She's bought him a tracking collar which synced with her phone. She checked the record previously to see that Charlie was only really exploring the apartment complex, never straying too far away from it. So she deduces it's someone else who lives in one of the apartments.

Santana knows that she has to move fast. Despite his weight gain, Charlie could still climb high and squeeze into spaces she couldn't.

When the sneaky little bastard slipped out from his kitty door, Santana quickly followed him out, tracking his steps on the app on her phone. It led her past the courtyard and into the garden patch of the complex, just by the fountain.

She waded through various potted plants, through the small pavement path in a mostly-grass covered area. A few of the plants had grown a little too tall and wound up smacking her in the face with their leaves. Santana kept glancing at her phone to make sure she was on the right track and was validated when she heard the sound of something being set down on the concrete and a pleased meow.

She scrambled through the rest of the plants and through the clearing, finding a woman, sitting on the bench and Charlie eating from a little orange cat bowl.

"Aha!" Santana exclaimed, leaping out from the garden and accusingly pointing at the cat, who didn't seem the least bit perturbed. She did however, come face to face with an amused looking woman.

Santana had expected some sad old guy who didn't have any friends and had taken to stealing the attention of the neighbour's cat but this woman was...well, gorgeous.

"Hi," the woman greeted her, seemingly unshaken by Santana's abrupt entrance.

"Hi," Santana managed to get out. "You're...you're the one who's been feeding my cat?"

"Oh is he yours?" she asks, reaching down to pet Charlie. "He likes to stop by here."

"Yeah, I mean...sort of," Santana frowns trying to explain the situation. "He's not mine, but he's in my care."

"Are you sure? Are you sure you're not a catnapper?"

Santana is partially amused but also a little offended. "Of course not! How can you accuse me of being a catnapper when you're the one feeding other people's pets?"

The woman frowns. "Feeding isn't the same as catnapping."

"So it's you? You're the one who's been fattening him up?"

"That's mean," the woman creases her forehead and pouts a little, rubbing Charlie's furry head. "I think he looks fine just as he is."

"What's he eating anyway?"

"Tuna casserole."

Santana's feelings of offense evaporate at this point and she's just confused.

"What?"

"My roommate is trying to learn to cook for her boyfriend," the woman explains. "I don't think it's very good but Cheeto seems to like it."

"Cheeto?"

She looks a little embarrassed. Santana thinks it's kind of cute. "That's not his name?"

"No, uh, his name is Charlie."

"Oh, I've been calling him Cheeto. The orange spots on his fur are kinda cheeto shaped. He doesn't seem to mind," she adds.

"No, I'm sure he doesn't."

Now sensing that Santana was out of accusation mode, the woman extended her hand.

"I'm Brittany, by the way. 1812," she gestures to the apartment behind her.

Santana shook it. "Santana. 1820"

"I like your name."

"Thanks. My mom picked it out."

Santana was horrified at the words that just left her mouth. What the hell was that? She knows how to talk to beautiful women, ok? She's just having an off day. Apparently her game had just decided to up and leave and go on vacation without telling her first.

Brittany giggles at that and scoots over a little on the bench, inviting Santana, mouth still slightly agape from her words, to take a seat next to her. She obliges and just stares down at Charlie tucking into his tuna casserole. She mostly stares down at the cat because Brittany's eyes are so very blue.

"So how long has this been going on exactly?"

"Maybe a month," Brittany shrugs. "He just kind of started coming around and one time he looked kinda hungry so I fed him the leftover's my roommate cooked. After that he kinda started coming around a lot."

"Leftovers huh? I guess the Cat Chow I've been feeding him doesn't really compare."

"Depends on the brand you buy, but usually cats prefer people-food even if it's not always the best for them. I try to only feed him stuff that cats would normally eat, like chicken and fish. Only stuff that they'd be able to catch in the wild."

"Huh. I had no idea about any of that."

"Ok, one time I fed him steak," Brittany says, looking a little guilty.

"Wow."

"My roommate bought this 14-pack of steak from Costco and I messed up with the freezing and the defrosting and we ended up just having to cook all of them. I thought maybe he should eat some before it went bad…" she trails off. "He seemed to really like it."

Santana chuckles a little. "Lucky Charlie, I bet he's the most well-fed cat in LA."

"Even more than all those pets to the stars?"

"Oh, totally, especially since he's apparently been getting double meals."

Brittany laughs and for reasons she doesn't quite understand, Santana can hear her heart beating louder in her chest.

"Sorry, if I've been stealing him away from you," she apologizes. "I just miss having a cat around."

"You had a cat before?"

"He lives back home with my parents. My roommate's allergic so I couldn't get another one even if I wanted to. I miss him sometimes. Even if he was leaking pages of my diary on the internet."

"Oh," Santana says, obviously confused. "Sounds like kind of a jerk."

"Yeah, but he has a good heart under all his addictions and gang affiliations."

"Right."

"So is Charlie your first?" Brittany asks.

"Is it that obvious I don't know what I'm doing?" Santana laughs. "I guess so. I mean, technically he's my friend's cat but she got sent to London for a couple months for work so she asked me to take care of him."

"I think you're actually doing pretty well considering he's your first cat. They're not as easy to take care of as everyone thinks," she comments as Charlie finishes his tuna casserole and jumps up onto the bench, where Brittany can pet him.

"Thanks."

"I also think you're a good friend."

Santana feels herself starting to blush and looks down at the ground to avoid eye contact. "You just met me. There's no way you could know that."

"Yeah but you're looking after your friend's cat while she's away, even though you don't really have any experience in it and you even tracked down to see where he was going when you thought something was up. Sounds like a pretty good friend to me."

"Yeah, well…" she mumbles, not sure of how to respond. "Listen, I think um, I think I'd be cool if you wanted to still hang out with Charlie and stuff. He seems to like you and I doubt I could stop him even if I wanted to."

Brittany's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Yeah. Maybe just go easy on the steak, though. My friend is a total helicopter cat-mom and she's not super happy with all the weight gain."

"I know an Atkins diet that might help."

"I mean, yeah, if you think-"

"Oh, thank you Santana!" with a big grin on her face, Brittany leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Santana in a big hug. The brunette was taken aback by it, clearly not expecting it, but was pleasantly surprised.

"Sorry," Brittany pulled away, looking a little embarrassed.

"No, don't be," she managed to get out. "Listen, Brittany, would it be cool if I got your number?" Santana realizes instantly what it sounds like and quickly tries to explain herself. "Since I obviously have no idea what I'm doing with this cat thing. Just, so I could like, text you if I have questions about cat food brands or going to the vet or something. You know, for Charlie's sake and everything," she added quickly.

"Totally," Brittany grinned. "I'll be like your cat whisperer."

Authors Notes:

If anyone here ever watched the show Chuck, the apartment complex in that show is kind of what I imagine the apartment complex here looks like.

I actually came up with this idea many years ago, but I didn't put pen to paper till recently. It was inspired by the fact that at a certain point my friend (and her parents) ended up feeding their neighbours cat on a regular basis and it started to get fat. This is also the first multi-chap I've written in years and the first Brittana multi-chap I've written at all.

#brittana #brittana fanfic #santana lopez #brittany pierce #pet-sitting!verse

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