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melinoeil · 2 years

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Demon Brothers with a GN!MC who spends money on games… like a lot

Fandom: Obey Me! Shall We Date?

Warnings: Being a gambling addict (for games of course). Usage of scumbag, yucky and otaku (not towards to the MC).

Notes: Okay so before we start… I’m not a professional writer, I don’t even write like a lot. Also my first language isn’t English, so if there are some grammatical mistakes I’d be so happy to get some correction! I’m sorry in advance.

Lucifer

Is not thinking about it a lot. It’s the money you earn by working at part-time jobs, so he doesn’t have the right to control your spendings and he is aware of that.

But still, you remind him of Mammon sometimes — but mind this point, not always. He knows that you earn the money by your hard work unlike to his precious brother. But still, you do have some similarities with Mammon, you can easily get greedy about the games you play and you just focus on getting every rare/limited character/item on the game. Sometimes it’s not ALL the characters but still.

He can (maybe), definitely if you two are close enough, make some in-game purchases without telling you for your birthday — if you don’t mind getting a present like this. He would love to see the happiness on your face when you reach your goal.

But if this addiction of yours turns into something more concerning or if he senses you are acting like Mammon more in a negative way, he would warn you and eventually limit you about your purchases. In his eyes, everything has a limit even though you have the money. Don’t worry, you’re not alone on this punishment story since he also limits Leviathan sometimes about the same topic. So you can meet up and be upset to Lucifer together.

But please get his point, he sees how badly addictions effect the second eldest. He can’t fully control him since it’s Mammon’s sin but you can control yourself for your own good and if you’re struggling with that he’s always here for you.

Mammon

Oi, you're aN ADDICT TO SPEND YOUR MONEY TOO?! What a coincidence, he's also one!

Oh, what do you mean that you only spend them THIS much on games? Like casino games you mean?

He really has difficult times to adopt the idea. You pay, like you even paid [insert some high price] one time on a game called Genshin Impact? And you just got a 5 star character —he doesn’t even know the game, but he makes a mental note to himself and he’ll ask Levi about those games you’re talking about. But not for you of course! Great Mammon doesn’t have the time to investigate about your hobbies. It’s just… catching with other realm’s trends is cool, right? Now back to the topic, you paid and didn’t get something even real. It was just in your device, it wasn’t something physical if you get what he means.

But slowly, he’ll understand your points too. He’s the Avatar of Greed after all, every matter related to money makes him sense at some point. Also, now he’s not alone in the house. There’s another person who spends their money like him. So his brothers can’t call him a scumbag since it would hurt your feelings too, right?

Even though you don’t steal people’s money or beg for it and other brothers don’t call you something offensive because of this, still Mammon doesn’t accept the fact. If his brothers are going to call him a scumbag, they should also add you to the bullying session — but it’s not a good thing to do. So, his brothers should stop with those nonsense bullying. Right? Right??? (Please support him on this subject.)

If you two are close enough, there is also another story. Remember when the brothers said you a fact about Mammon earlier? “If Mammon takes interest in someone, they find themselves with lots of richness”. Yeah, it applies to you too. He’d do anything to help you reach your goals in your games if it’s the way to make you happy. He’s your first after all, he’s always here to support.

If your addiction gets serious though, he’d probably notice it but wouldn’t do something about that. He’s worse than you, you can’t rely on him with this.

Leviathan

He’s the only one who understands your situation fully, because he’s the same.

You two would show each other your game accounts. If there are mutual games, then it’s another story! You guys will be playing the game for hours and if you guys are not playing then you’re talking about the game. It annoys the others but who cares, you two are having fun times.

If you have no money at the time, he’d lend you some so you won’t be missing the special content on your game. But you always make sure to pay back in a short time and he especially appreciates that. You’re not like Mammon — which is a good point in his eyes.

Sometimes, you two get banned from spending money on games by Lucifer. He’ll strictly control your purchases from your credit card history. So you two can make a team (or you guys can complain to the Anti-Lucifer-League and those two can also join your protest. but mind this part, Satan can take things too seriously sometimes and can cause unnecessary chaos/drama) and protest. Still, the older brother is just trying to help you guys.

Same with Mammon, if your addiction is going worse, he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. But he’ll make sure he warns you time to time and if you’re still not listening he’d go and ask help from his other brothers. Yes, he also pays too much on games but you’re greater than him, he’s just a yucky otaku after all — or he just thinks like this.

But if you assure him he’s not any of those he thinks and try to help him too, he’ll be SO happy. So this thing can quickly escalate to something more therapy-like.

Satan

I’m going to be honest, he finds it stupid. You can buy books, if you’re interested paints, new instruments or just anything can be MORE useful.

He plays games time to time too, he finds them enjoyable but at the end of the day they don’t help you to improve yourself. So yeah, overall he’s not a fan of this hobby (!) of yours.

But he’ll keep his mouth shut for your happiness and bear with it. But don’t except an in-game purchase as a birthday present. Even though it’s a present, he tries to spend his money on things he finds reasonable.

If your addiction goes worse, he’ll warn you immediately. He’ll tell you that you don’t have to work THIS hard at part-time jobs just for a game. He doesn’t get why you’re so anxious about not getting the character/item you want but still, he’ll try to help you.

He talks about how those game will end someday or you’ll lose interest in them over time. He’ll show you books or articles about this topic and he hopes you’ll understand his points too.

He knows that you’re capable of something more useful for your life, you’re talented enough to choose more reasonable hobbies. Please don’t get him wrong, he cherishes you dearly. <3

Asmodeus

Oh, you’re playing games like his older brother Levi? How awful, it’s bad for your skin! He already gets headaches looking at this older brother and his early morning state — yawning, eyebags visible and not in a perfect mood. He doesn’t want to get another headaches by looking at you, so please show mercy to him.

He doesn’t get why you’re spending too much on games but he’s not too harsh like Satan, he doesn’t find it so stupid. He sometimes lives something similar, his brothers find his obsession with looking charming all the time too. Whenever he gets a new product, new clothing, there’s always a comment about “how stupid it is to buy same things every time.” So no, he doesn’t find your hobby stupid, he just gets it hard to understand.

At first, his only concern is your skin getting bad or you overworking yourself at part-time jobs. Nothing more. He even looks at the characters you get and if he likes the character, he’ll definitely praise your sense of fashion! But remember, he’s always more good-looking than those characters! ❤️

If he sees you anxious about those games, he’ll just make you close the game and take you to a spa day! It’s his excuse to spend some time with you, but also he doesn’t want you to get bad feelings over a game. It doesn’t worth it anyways.

If your addiction gets worse, he’ll most definitely warn you — more serious this time. But he’s not the type to punish you like Lucifer, or make clever points/show you articles about the subject like Satan so if he senses that his not-so-qualified warnings are not working on you, he’ll want help from his brothers (mostly from Lucifer or Satan).

He’d lead you to spend your money on other things, like clothing or self-care. He’d distract you from games by occupying you like always. Oh, you’re turning on your game? How bad, he booked a spa session from a beauty salon! Are you taking out your credit card to spend money on games? No, absolutely not sweetie, he’s taking you to a shopping mall and you two will buy some clothes!

Beelzebub

Innocent baby, always supports you no matter what. If you’re happy spending your money on things like those, then he’s happy too.

He plays games with Levi sometimes, so if he’s familiar with the game you’re currently playing, he’ll watch you and make comments sometimes.

Will listen to you while you’re explaining your games or why you are getting that character/item specifically.

Like Lucifer, he’d make in-game purchases time to time without telling you as a surprise. Or if you’re short on money, he’d work with you and give you the money he earned — doesn’t care how much you protest.

Sometimes, he can’t help but wonder how much food he’d get with the money you’re spending. 10 burgers from Hell’s Kitchen? So many menus from [insert luxurious restaurant name here]? Oh how he wishes…

If your addiction gets worse, he’ll be so concerned for you. There’s no need to get anxious about a game, it’s not as precious as you. Like Asmodeus, he’d want help from his brothers but he’s not leaving you alone in this journey.

Belphegor

How troublesome. You work extra shifts to get more money? For what exactly? For games? He can’t believe what he is hearing. He can’t even get out of his bed to earn needed money but you work extra for something like that?

He’d make comments about your hobby sometimes, but jokingly. He doesn’t want to offend you. He supports you every time, just sometimes he likes to tease you a bit.

If your birthday is around the corner, he would work with you like Beelzebub. But other than that, don’t except him to join you, this baby is just so sleepy.

If your addiction gets worse, he’ll warn you and if needed, he can try to limit you like Lucifer. Please don’t feel upset with this, he just wants to help you.

So shortly,

Even though every brother have different ways of show their care/love for you, they support you and your interests.

And if you’re somehow having bad times, they do everything to help you. If it’s hard for them, they wouldn’t be ashamed to ask for other brother’s help.

Doesn’t matter who you choose to spend most of your time, every of them cares about you and would notice if you’re having bad times. You’re like a family to them, so don’t be afraid to ask for help. 🤍

Final Notes: Thank you for reading this far! It was hard to write this much — considering I’m new to writing lmao. Likes + rb’s are appreciated, not necessary though! 🤍

I’m not a writing blog still, just to remind. It’s still a personal account hehe. I just had the idea to write this.

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ladyeroway · 1 year

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Ezra Gage

Shamelessly stolen from @lilactiefling and the character meme[X]

1) What is the character’s go-to drink order? (this one gets into how do they like to be publicly perceived, because there is always some level of theatricality to ordering drinks at a bar/restaurant)

Ezra does enjoy hot drinks and almost exclusively drinks black coffee and tea. Given his issues around sleep he drinks far more than he probably should. He doesn’t drink alcohol often, and in recent years has mostly given it up totally. He will occasionally have a brandy if it was rude not to take an alcoholic drink but he isn’t really comfortable with letting go of control by heavily drinking.

2. What is their grooming routine? (how do they treat themselves in private)

Ezra is very meticulous. He is a police officer and a detective and as such is a face of the Met so he takes care of his appearance. He shaves every day and takes great care to style his hair back so he looks put together. He isn’t one to spend a lot of time pampering himself as that would involve looking in the mirror too long which can be too uncomfortable for him seeing his markings.

3. What was their most expensive purchase/where does their disposable income go? (Gets you thinking about socio-economic class, values, and how they spend their leisure time)

His gramophone was by far his most expensive purchase but it is one of the few pleasures that he spends time and money on. He is a big fan of classical music and the piano. It reminds him of his mother who used to play. Any disposable income goes towards new records and good tobacco. Especially for his pipe, so he can sit in the evening, unwind with some music and a smoke before he continues on his cases.

4. Do they have any scars or tattoos? (good way to get into literal backstory)

Ezra doesn’t have any tattoo’s. His biggest scar is the one on his abdomen which is about 8 inches across where he was stabbed by a serial killer. Of course most of his “scars” are his markings, the black veins on his chest, neck and forearms. His hands are also black from fingers to forearms and icy cold. His hands read as condensed spectral energy which was why they are marked the way they are.

5. What was the last time they cried, and under what circumstances? (Good way to get some *emotional* backstory in.)

He hasn’t cried in a long time. And he probably should as he keeps his emotions very bottled up. The last time was in the hospital when he was injured. He was grieving the loss of his best friend and his partner. Oliver’s wife, Clara came to see him once in the hospital and he was so ashamed of not saving Oliver and his physical changes, when she left, he let out all the grief.

6. Are they an oldest, middle, youngest or only child? (This one might be a me thing, because I LOVE writing/reading about family dynamics, but knowing what kinds of things were ‘normal’ for them growing up is important.)

He was an only child. Which partially explains why he isn’t the best socially. He was a conscientious child and didn’t make a lot of friends. Where many of the kids he grew up around wanted to play. He spent most of his time studying, determined to get into a good school so that he could pursue his career and move his parents and himself out of the Rookery.

7. Describe the shoes they’re wearing. (This is a big catch all, gets into money, taste, practicality, level of wear, level of repair, literally what kind of shoes they require to live their life.)

Given how dangerous the world of Unhallowed Metropolis is, it is extremely important to be armoured up. Ezra has armoured leather boots that cover up to his thigh. This protects him from any potential animate when he is investigating murders. They are very expensive and he takes good care of them..

8. Describe the place where they sleep. (ie what does their safe space look like. How much (or how little) care / decoration / personal touch goes into it.)

Ezra has a bedroom...technically. But he doesn’t sleep there unless he is injured. Ezra’s safe space is his office. He keeps his flat very clean and without much personal possessions but his office is filled to the brim with files and research from cases. There are books and files on every surface of his large desk and all the shelves and filing cabinets. The chair is large and comfortable and he often wakes up there trying to get to the bottom of who killed his partner.

He keeps a few personal possessions here, a few pictures of his parents and of Oliver, Clara and the kids. The things he cared about and the things he has lost.

9. What is their favorite holiday? (How do they relate to their culture/outside world. Also fun is least favorite holiday.)

Ezra doesn’t celebrate holiday’s. He used to enjoy going around to the Sinclair’s on boxing day as often worked the holidays to give time off to those with families and children.

10. What objects do they always carry around with them? (What do they need for their normal, day-to-day routine? What does ‘normal’ even look like for them.)

A notepad, and pencils are his go to for taking notes on cases. He also keeps a spare set of gloves in his bag. Alternating between his leather gloves for being outside and a soft cotton set for indoors or when it would be seen as impolite to be wearing the leather set. He also carries around extra collars and cravats incase they get dirty or damaged. Because he wears his collars to hide the black veins on his neck this is an important safety net for him. He also always carries his rebreather, despite the fact he doesn’t have to use it, it makes others feel more comfortable. And of course his Heavy Pistol is always on him to deal with the horrors of Unhallowed London.

#ezra gage #unhallowed metropolis #oc meme #i should do juniper next #This was fun

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cathygeha · 8 months

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REVIEW

Where the Dead Sleep by Joshua Moehling

Ben Packard #2

Intricately plotted, well crafted, excellently written police procedural and murder mystery that allowed me to catch up with Detective Ben Packard as he navigates the waters of being acting sheriff in a small town with more than one person who would rather not have him in the position. As Ben works to find and then put the puzzle pieces of the case together, he runs into many clues that may or may not be important in determining who killed the first victim. Doggedly he pursues the clues with the assistance of his team making diagrams and notes to try to put it all together in a cohesive manner.

When a bullet comes through the window of the house he is visiting, he wonders if it was meant for him or someone else and was the shooter the same person that killed Bill or someone else? Who is telling the truth and who is not? What facts are important? Who is the killer and what is the motivation? And…where is that key to the puzzle that will ultimately cause all the pieces to finally fit together perfectly to expose every aspect of the case that begins with the death of Bill Sanderson?

Detective Ben Packard is an intriguing character. He has suffered loss, works hard, is a good friend, great team player, has a strong moral compass, is compassionate and kind to underdogs, is great at puzzle solving, knows who he is, is invested in settling in Sandy Lake as he rehabs the home he purchased, grew up in a loving family, Lost his brother decades ago…in Sandy Lake…and would love to close the old cold case for his family, owns a three-legged Corgi named Frank, is doing his best to be an efficient and effective acting sheriff.

The way this all came together with the clues, hints, twists, turns, assaults, dysfunctional family issues of the Gherlicks gradually being exposed, and other pertinent matter being unearthed in a complex crafty way had me eagerly waiting to see who the bad guy was and then wondering if perhaps there was more than one. The ending is not a cliff hanger, but it does have me eagerly waiting to read book three in this series.

Thank you to NetGalley and Sourcebooks-Poisoned Pen Press for the ARC – This is my honest review.

5 Stars

BLURB

A small town's dark secrets turn deadly... When an early morning call brings Deputy Ben Packard to the scene of a home invasion, he finds Bill Sandersen shot in his bed. Bill was a well-liked local who chased easy money his whole life, leaving bad debts and broken hearts in his wake. Everyone Packard talks to has a story about Bill, but no one has a clear motive for wanting him dead. The business partner. The ex-wife. The current wife. The high-stakes poker buddies. Any of them—or none of them—could be guilty. As the investigation begins, tragedy strikes the Sheriff's department, forcing Packard to make a difficult choice about his future: step down as acting Sheriff and pursue the quiet life he came to Sandy Lake in search of, or subject himself to the scrutiny of an election for the full-time role of Sheriff, a job he's not sure he wants. There's a hidden history to Sandy Lake that Packard, ever the outsider, can't see. Bad blood and old secrets run deep. But an attempt on Packard's life means he's getting uncomfortably close to the dangerous legacy of the quiet Minnesota town. And someone will do anything to keep it hidden.

#Joshua Moehling #NetGalley #Sourcbooks - Poisoned Pen Publishing #Murder Mystery #Whodunnit #fiction

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littleoneusa · 2 years

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1. Choose a good direction

You must have a clear idea. It's best to be specific in making girl's clothes. If your store is large, you can make men's clothes or women's clothes. Don't forget what you are doing in the market, and don't let other things affect your thinking. That is, we have decided to operate men's clothing or women's clothing. We should have a clear mind and don't want to do everything when we go to the girl wholesale boutique clothing market.

2. Children's clothing positioning

In addition, observe the people who come to purchase, what kind of goods they buy and where they sell. If you find that this person always comes to purchase, it is that he sells well. You should follow him to his store to investigate quietly, which is of great help to you to open a store immediately.

The positioning of girl's clothing is to be a brand, a student's clothing, a middle-aged and elderly girl's clothing, and a girl's clothing. Conduct market research on the girl's clothing you want to purchase. You should know all wholesalers of sports girl's wear. Take a book and remember who wholesales what kind of sports girl's wear, what price, who wholesales well, who purchases more people, and whose store has a prosperous business. You can ask for a thorn to mark it. You should keep it in mind. This is your wealth.

3. Children's clothing purchase

When everything is ready, stock it now. If you are the first time to ship it, you should also pretend to be a regular customer. You can talk about the price with the dealer. Because you can say the price of other people's girl's clothes, the boss thinks you are very knowledgeable. You are not a novice. A novice can't answer the boss's question. There is a Chinese saying: conscience is better than knowledge, and you win every battle. In this way, the first purchase will not cost a lot of money, but also to attract customers like you to give you concessions.

4. Strictly prevent being deceived

5.girl's clothing placement

After the goods are purchased, the girl's clothes should be placed. The overall effect of the store should make people feel good. You can visit the stores of wholesalers, franchises and retailers, and learn how to place clothes there, so that your store can welcome customers with a new look.

6. Price adjustment

I decide how much to sell and how to sell. Grasp the market situation at any time, and if you find the price adjustment of wholesalers, you should also adjust your price immediately.

7. Promotional flow

For new stores, it's best to do some promotional mobility. You can decide to buy gifts according to the size of your store. At present, there are still many people who are greedy for petty gains and can catch the psychology of such a sect. Help you do a good job of promotion. When you open your business, you can put in some plastic basins and washbasins. It looks big and attractive. There are also some balloons with words.

Many girl like them. Adults will bring girl to ask for balloons. Remember that the quality must be better. On the opening day, give gifts to the top 200 customers who queue in front of the store in advance. People who buy things have gifts, and the goods are discounted when they open, so that the business of your store will be good, and many people will know your store and leave a good impression.

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iwazumis · 4 years

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iwa watched this series once & its on his bucket list now.

#basic premise if u dont wanna watch:#5 guys (investigators) vs 1 man (fugitive) in a cross country game of tag #they all start in seattle but the fugitive has to get to one of three airports within a week and fly out to win #fugitive gets 10k usd for public transport and food and anything he has left over after flying out he gets to keep #if he's caught the investigators split the money among themselves #the catch is that every time he makes a purchase with the money; the investigators are notified of where/what he buys #so they can track him based on his purchases of public transport tickets/food/hotels

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hardcasey · 3 years

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Sweet Tooth

Won't Fade into the Background - Part 2

Pairing: Toast x F!Reader

Summary: You are an owner of a bakery on Coruscant and end up running into a certain clone with a penchant for baked goods.

Word Count: 7k (I got carried away lmao)

Rating/Warnings: T, Mostly fluff again, though it gets a little PG-13 at the end. Nothing too crazy tho.

A/N: Who’s more of a background clone than everyone’s fave boy Toast? I decided to give him the classic bakery au meet-cute that he deserves. <3 Not proofread so let me know if there are any glaring errors!

“You sure you don’t need any help cleaning up?” Your employee, Vella, called from the front of the shop.

You poked your head out through the little window that separated the kitchen from the rest of the store. “I’m good, Vel. Go enjoy your Friday night.”

“Alright, night boss,” The Twi’lek woman gave you a mock salute and laughed when she saw you roll your eyes before turning and heading out the door into the busy Coruscant streets.

You turned back to your current task, taking inventory. It was not the most glamorous job, in fact it was your least favorite part about owning your own business, but it had to be done. With a sigh, you started counting, quickly losing yourself in the monotony.

You were the proud owner of a small bakery on Coruscant. It was not the most lucrative job by far, but it had always been your dream to bake for a living, and you were proud to have achieved that goal so quickly. It had taken a lot of hard work to get to where you were now, along with quite a bit of luck. You had been finishing up your last year in culinary school when you walked by a place for rent right in the heart of the city. It had been right around when the war started, and the owner wanted to sell off the space as quickly as possible. You had the sneaking suspicion that he may have been involved with the Separatists and was trying to jump ship and flee the planet. Honestly, you didn’t really care what his deal was, only that he was giving you the place for a steal. Seppie or not, you were thankful for him. There was no other way you would have been able to afford a place in this part of the city otherwise.

You had dropped a considerable portion of your savings into the purchase and renovation of the bakery, and there were times that you were subsisting off of nothing but cheap instant noodles, but everything had worked out in the end. The prime location meant there was a lot of foot traffic and it didn’t take long before you were turning a profit. And the quality of your pastries and baked goods earned you a loyal customer base, and you had many regulars that stopped in for a cup of caf and a little treat on their way to work.

Once you finished up taking inventory, you headed out to the front to start cleaning up, stacking the chairs up on the tables so you could start sweeping. You were saving up for a droid that would sweep the floors for you, but you were still a ways off from that so you had to do it the old fashioned way.

It was then that you noticed there was someone looking in through the window, clearly ogling the display of pastries and cakes that was there. The light from the setting sun pouring through the window cast their face in shadow, so you couldn’t tell who it was.

Might as well invite them in, you thought to yourself as you leaned the broom against the wall. After all, the bakery wasn’t technically closed yet, though you almost never had customers at this time.

You swung the door open and were about to say something to the figure when you saw them jump, clearly not realizing you were there.

“Oh, hey, I’m sorry for scaring you! I just wanted to let you know that the bakery is still open if you want anything.” You said gently, holding your hands up in a placating manner.

Now that you were outside, you could see the figure more clearly. They were a human male, with tan skin and warm brown eyes. He was wearing a grey uniform and his short dark hair was partly obscured by a matching grey hat. He seemed very familiar to you, and you were about to ask if you knew him, before it hit you. Duh! He was a clone. You weren’t used to seeing clones in anything other than their distinctive white armor, so it took a moment for your brain to put two and two together.

“Oh, uh, I was just looking, ma’am! I’m very sorry.” He said quickly, the same way that a kid who had just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar would. He looked so sheepish, as if he was about to bolt any second. You weren’t sure why he was so apologetic, he was just looking through the window. A bunch of people did that.

“No need to apologize, everyone looks through the windows.” You said, flashing him what you hoped was a reassuring smile.

“I, uh, just wasn’t sure if you were gonna run me out or something,” he told you, averting his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Why would I do that?”

“Not many businesses are open to clones, and I wasn’t sure. I’ve never seen any clones in your shop and I guess I just assumed.”

Okay, that lowkey made your blood boil. Why would anyone discriminate against the clones? They were the ones putting their lives on the line to protect the Republic, for kriffs sake! You hadn’t interacted with many clones, but the ones you had run into were nothing but polite and respectful.

“That’s terrible! We absolutely allow clones here! You know what, come inside. There are still some pastries leftover from today. I’ll put them in a box for you and you can bring them back to your, er, squad? Company? Your friends!” You finished breathlessly, a little embarrassed you knew so little about anything involving the military.

“Are you sure? I-I don’t have any money to pay for them,” He said sadly, his eyes darting down to his shoes as if there was suddenly something fascinating about them.

“Nonsense! They’ll be going bad soon anyway and will just end up in the trash. You’ll be doing me a favor, honestly.” Without allowing him to protest further, you grabbed his elbow and tugged him into your shop. In the back of your mind you registered how big his bicep felt, which surprised you. He looked fit, yes, but it wasn’t like he was some meathead. Maybe his uniform just did a good job of disguising how strong he was. You felt yourself blush once you realised the path your thoughts had veered down and quickly pushed them out of your mind.

“It smells good in here,” he said to no one in particular as he dropped his harm and headed behind the counter to start filling a box with leftover pastries.

You smiled at him, before you realised something. “Forgive my manners, but I didn’t catch your name.”

“CT-1928, ma’am.” He replied, his back straightening ever so slightly as he did, as if the action was ingrained in him.

“Do you have a nickname? I know a lot of clones go by them instead of their number.” You said delicately. You didn’t want to offend him by asking, but it felt so strange, so dehumanizing, to call him by a number.

“Oh, uh, my brothers call me Toast.” He said, once again sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not the greatest nickname, but it’s the one that stuck.”

“Haha, I think it’s cute. And don’t worry, my parents used to call me Possum when I was little, because I used to climb around and get into the trash. It was cute until they said it in front of my friends, then they started calling me that too.”

He laughed at that, his shoulders relaxing, his posture not so stiff. “My brothers started calling me Toast because the first time they served toast in the cafeteria after I got my assignment, I ate so many pieces I made myself sick.”

“Pfft. That’s amazing,” You laughed as you shuffled things around so you could fit one last croissant inside. You got the sense the clones didn’t often get to have sweets, so you were going to make sure Toast could bring as many back as possible. “So are you here on shore leave?”

“I’m actually a member of the Coruscant Guard. So I’m here often. Well all the time. I walk by this place every time they send me off to run errands, which is often since I’m still the new guy.”

“Oh, that’s cool. That means you work with senators, right? That must be… something.” You’d read stories on the holonet about some of the more notorious senators and you doubted they treated the clones particularly well.

“I haven’t personally worked with any members of the senate, though a lot of my brothers have. Most of my day is spent staring at security cameras. So, pretty boring. Though I’m not complaining.”

You tied up the package with a neat little bow before handing it to him, another bright smile flashing across your face. Something about his earnest, open demeanor was very endearing to you and you secretly hoped you’d get to see him again soon. If not anything else, you could at least learn a little more about the clones that dedicated their lives to protecting the Republic, since your knowledge on the subject was apparently so lacking.

“Well it’s good to hear that you’re local. Hopefully you can stop by again the next time you’re running errands. And feel free to invite your brothers too!”

“T-thank you, ma’am. That is very kind of you.” He said before taking the box of pastries in his hand, holding it almost reverently. He was trying to hide it but you could tell he was very excited to eat some sweets later.

With one last nod he headed out of the store, the bell chiming lightly after him. You stood there, simply watching his receding form blend into the crowd, catching yourself smiling at the prospect of seeing him again.

~~~

Toast hadn’t made it three steps into the barracks before his vode were descending upon him. Well not really him as much as the box full of sugary confections in his hands.

“What ya got there?” Jek inquired, already tugging at the ribbon to investigate the box’s contents.

Toast shoved his greedy hands out of the way and marched over to the counter where they kept the caf machine, which was in a perpetual state of disarray. The caf machine was old, probably older than any of them, and saw high traffic 24/7. Honestly, with the amount it leaked and sputtered, it was a miracle the machine was still functioning. Toast hoped it would at least until the war was over because when it went, Fox would be in the grave right next to it.

“You know that bakery on the way back from the Jedi temple?” Toast inquired as he placed the box on the counter, starting to pick at the knot so he could open it without cutting the ribbon. It was a pretty striped pastel pink and he wanted to keep it.

“The one with the little tooka-shaped cookies?” Rhys’ eyes went wide with excitement.

“Yeah, the lady who worked there saw me looking inside and then gave me all the leftover pastries from the window.”

“For free!?” Jek exclaimed as he shuffled back towards the box, “What did you get? Did you get an eclair? Please tell me you got an eclair.” Toast nodded and handed his brother one, who promptly dug in.

“What’s this about eclairs?” Stone rounded the corner, instantly noticing the box and saddling up to him. “Did you get sweets?”

Toast spent the next few minutes divvying up the various pastries between everyone. He chose something made up of many thin layers of dough, filled with chopped nuts and soaked in honey. Baklava, he thinks it was called, or maybe balaclava? He didn’t know the difference. But he didn’t care as he devoured it, savoring each bite like it was something precious. He glanced around and saw all his brothers were experiencing similar states of bliss, if their expressions were anything to go by.

~~~

He didn’t have a chance to visit the bakery for the next two weeks, too busy running around dealing with mess after mess. One day, a prison riot. The next, bomb threats at the senate. Everyone in the guard was so exhausted and in desperate need of a break. So when Hound mentioned he was taking Grizzer for a walk, Toast decided to tag along so that he could get some fresh air. Well, fresh for Coruscant.

At some point they’d run into Rhys and Thire, on the way back from patrol duty. Neither of them were in a rush to get back to HQ to receive new marching orders, so they ended up tagging along.

Their little group wandered the streets, just walking with no direction in mind. Grizzer had his snout pressed close to the ground, desperate to sniff everything. Toast smiled at the massiff’s antics from behind his bucket, before glancing around and realizing they were just a block away from the bakery.

“Hey, guys. Wanna stop at that bakery? It’s just over there.” Toast asked, pointing his finger at the little awning in front of the shop.

Thire looked at him as if he had two heads. “Why? Do you think we’ll get handouts again? Not that I’m complaining, free is free, but didn’t you get those because it was the end of the day and she was planning on throwing them out? It’s the middle of the day now…”

“Well, she said I could come back whenever. And that I could bring you guys too.” Toast felt his cheeks heat up for some reason, suddenly feeling embarrassed. What if she was just being polite, and he wasn’t really supposed to come back? What if he brought too many of his brothers and she thought he was taking advantage of her generosity?

He was just about to suggest they should move on when Rhys piped up. “Well, what are we waiting for? C’mon.” He was already halfway to the bakery before anyone could respond. Rhys had a major sweet tooth and nothing motivated him more than some sweets. Hound and Grizzer were right on his heels, having missed out on the pastries last time.

Toast caught up to them quickly, with Thire right behind them, though they all froze as soon as they made it up to the doors. There were people inside this, lounging around sipping drinks and chatting. Could they go in? Would people get mad?

All his vode were waiting for him to do something, and his eyes searched frantically around the storefront as if he would find an answer there. And, surprisingly, he did. Sort of. Because hanging right in the window was a sign that read ‘CLONES WELCOME’. You had to have hung it after your interaction, there was no other explanation. Something about that made his heart race.

All of a sudden, you appeared in the window, a friendly grin on your face as you pointed at the sign and waved for them all to come in.

“You didn’t tell us she was pretty, vod,” Thire whispered as they shuffled their way inside. Toast could just feel the shit eating grin from under his brother’s bucket. He just gave a noncommittal grunt as a response, which only made Thire laugh.

The group of them stood awkwardly in the threshold of the store, not really knowing what to do with themselves. A few patrons looked over to see what was going on, and Toast braced for some sort of outrage at clones invading their space, but after a few seconds they all turned back to whatever they were doing before.

Toast stood there dumbly, just staring at you. He hadn’t really been able to take a good look at you the last time, too distracted by how strange the whole situation had been. But now he could see that Thire was right. You are pretty. Very pretty.

If you noticed how tongue-tied he was, you didn’t show it. You just greeted them with another smile and oh Maker that smile. It was the kind of smile that lit up your whole face and Toast wanted to see it every day for the rest of his life.

“Hi! Is this your first time here?” You asked, cocking your head to one side.

“He’s been here before.” Hound answered, shoving Toast to the front of the group.

“Oh, are you the one from a few weeks ago? Toast?”

You remembered his name! He was pretty sure he was about to melt into a puddle right then and there. It took a second to realize that he hadn't answered yet and he quickly sputtered out, “Y-yeah. That’s me.”

“I’m glad you came back! And you brought your brothers,” You turned to address the rest of the clones and offered out a hand, “It’s nice to meet you all, what are your names.”

Hound, always the people person and the one most used to interacting with the public, stepped forward and shook your hand. “I’m Hound. That’s Thire and Jek. It’s nice to meet you ma’am, I’ve heard you’re a great baker, though I wouldn’t know first-hand.”

You cocked an eyebrow at Toast, “You didn’t share?”

“He was out on patrol, I swear!” Toast stammered, holding his hands up in front of him.

“Hmmm, I guess I’ll take your word for it. Though I think he should get to pick out what he wants first. It’s only fair.”

“Really?!” Hound exclaimed. His enthusiasm seemed to rub off on Grizzer, the massiff sitting up on his back legs and wiggling excitedly before letting out a happy bark. “Down boy,” Hound ordered, placing a hand on Grizzer’s hand to calm him down.

‘Awe, he’s just excited,” you giggled as you bent down to give him some pats of your own. “Can he eat treats? I have some by the door that I give to some of the other dogs.” You asked Hound as you straightened back up.

“Yes, he loves treats. Would you mind if I took them to go? I don’t want him spoiling his dinner.”

“Of course! Now pick out what you all want. And you can put a box together to take to your brothers.”

You spent the next twenty minutes helping them pick out pastries, answering questions so they could pick out something for each of their brothers. After they had made their selections, you sat with them at one of the tables and chatted. Well, you mostly asked questions and they all talked over each other in their excitement. Still, you enjoyed the time with them, happy to provide a place for them to relax and unwind. Their jobs seemed incredibly stressful and by reading in between the lines of some of the things they told you, they seemed to be mistreated by a good portion of the senators, made to run menial errands or be the punching bags senators took their frustrations out on. You could especially see it in Toast, in the way he was so scared of offending you, how he would avert his eyes all the time and flinch if someone spoke too loudly. It honestly made you want to burn down the senate building.

Everyone had finished eating when Thire looked down at his wrist and exclaimed, “Oh kriff, it’s been over an hour! Fox is gonna kill us.”

Toast scoffed. “Correction: Fox is going to kill you and Rhys. Hound and I are off right now.”

“Bring him an extra tiramisu to smooth things over.” You said, already wrapping one up and adding it to the rest of their haul.

The group scrambled around, putting their buckets back on and grabbing the various pastry boxes you’d filled for them. Toast paused before turning to you. “Um, we don’t have any credits on us right now, but I can bring some tomorrow. The Guard has a small discretionary fund we can-”

You stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

“A-are you sure? That was a lot of food…” Toast didn’t want her to lose money because of him. After all, he was the one that brought his brothers here.

“It’s okay, seriously. I actually started a little program where customers can buy a coffee or a pastry or whatever for a clone. There’s actually a little bucket next to the register that I set up,” you turned and pointed at it so he could see. “It was actually my employee Vella’s idea. She came up with it the day after we first met, and it’s been pretty popular. There are a lot of people out there who are really thankful for what you guys do, you know.”

Toast didn’t know what to say, but he felt like he wanted to cry at such a nice gesture. “That is… really kind of you. Thanks.” It didn’t feel like nearly enough, but they were the only words Toast could form at the moment.

“Of course,” you said, giving his shoulder a little squeeze. “Now go catch up with your brothers, and let the rest of them know they’re always welcome to a free drink or pastry here.”

Toast thanked you once again before heading outside to where his brothers were waiting, trying to convince himself that your hand hadn’t lingered on his arm for a beat too long. No, it was just wishful thinking.

As he and his vode made their way back to the barracks, Rhys threw an arm around his neck and said, “Wow, Toast, your girlfriend is the best!” earning him snickers from the rest of the group.

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Toast tried to protest.

“But you want her to be~” Hound teased. And he was right, Toast wanted that more than anything in the galaxy right now. But he knew it was impossible. You were beautiful and kind and funny and perfect and he... was just a clone.

“It’s not like it could ever happen anyway,” Toast sighed.

Thire nudged him with his shoulder. “Psssh, we all saw how her hand lingered on you. She definitely likes you.”

“Definitely,” Rhys echoed.

Toast smiled under his bucket. It might be a pipe dream, but in that moment he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy.

~~~

In the following weeks, you fell into a sort of routine. Toast would stop by your bakery at least once a week, sometimes more depending on his free time. And you cherished every moment you got to spend with him. Sometimes he would bring fellow members of the guard along, and every visit ended with your stomach cramping from how much you’d laughed at their various antics. You were confused how such a chaotic bunch of individuals were able to come together as an effective police force… that is until you met Commander Fox. His talent for wrangling them deserved a medal in your opinion.

As much as you enjoyed his brothers, you really looked forward to the times where you and Toast were alone together. He’d always come to you with some wild story of an eccentric prisoner or a crazy heist perpetrated in the lower levels. Honestly you hadn’t expected him to be such a gossip, but you were hardly complaining.

In return for his stories you started teaching him how to bake. It started off with him just watching you work as he talked, sometimes asking questions about what you were doing or peaking over your shoulder to get a closer look. Eventually he became an assistant of sorts, spending his time grabbing ingredients for you and washing the dishes once you were done with them.

Today was the day you were going to convince him to bake a loaf of bread with you. You were going to start him off with a simple loaf of white bread, one that didn’t require much kneading and didn’t have a long proving time. You had already pulled out all the ingredients, bowls, and utensils and were waiting patiently for him to arrive.

By the time you heard the bell ring and saw him coming through the door, you were tapping your foot in anticipation. He wasn’t late - in fact he was right on time as always - but you were just itching to see him.

“Toast! You’re here!” Ugh, that was the best greeting you could come up with? you cringed internally. Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind your banal greeting, a smile on his lips as he pulled his bucket over his head and placed it on a nearby shelf. You found yourself longing for a reality where he greeted you with a peck on the lips along with that sweet smile. Maker, you had it bad for him.

His eyes flashed over to the ingredients on the counter. “What are you making today?”

“I’m not making anything today. But we are. I think it's time for you to try your hand at baking. And in honor of your love of toast, we’re starting off with bread.”

He rolled his eyes at that, but the corner of his mouth still quirked up, showing off one of his dimples. “Isn’t bread kind of hard to make though? Maybe we should start out with something simpler…”

“Where’s your courage, soldier?” you teased, poking a finger at his chest. He huffed and you laughed. “Now c’mon, wash your hands and get your apron on.”

He ended up taking the top half of his armor off, in only his blacks from the waist up, his sleeve rolled up to his elbows. You were half thankful and half disappointed the apron covered the way his form fitting shirt stretched across his chest. At least you wouldn’t be distracted, but boy oh boy did you want a closer look.

The two of you chatted about your days as you started working on each of your loaves. With so few ingredients the process went quick, and soon enough you were kneading the dough.

“Now this is called the slap and fold technique. First get your dough together in a ball like this… and then you slap it down!” You demonstrated by taking your lump of wet dough and slapping it down on the table. “Then you just fold it in half and repeat. We need to do it for about five minutes.”

“I think you mean we knead to do it for five minutes,” Toast said with a cheeky grin.

“Blegh. Terrible.” You flicked a bit of flour at him as punishment. “I think you knead to be locked up for that pun.” Toast just laughed and continued working, the smile on his face never dropping.

Once you were ready, you shaped both of the loaves and put them in the oven. When you turned back to him you couldn’t help but giggle. He was absolutely covered in flour.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” He asked, face suddenly becoming serious.

You stepped close to him and brushed his face clean with your thumb. “On your face, in your hair, on your shirt. I think you managed to get flour everywhere except the apron.”

“Well you were the one throwing it at me!” came his retort as he used his hands to shake his hair out, turning it from grey back to its lovely dark color.

“Touché. Now let me help you get cleaned up. I think you got some on your back. Somehow.” You grabbed a washcloth and wet it under the sink and started using it to wipe the flour off his clothes.

“It’s one of my many skills from cadet training.” He told you, eyes twinkling, as you dabbed at a spot you missed on his face. You could feel his lips moving as he spoke. Stop thinking about how soft they probably are, you chided yourself.

“You’re just lucky you’re so charming.”

That made him blush and avert his eyes, which would have been cute if you weren’t worried you’d gone a bit too far. You didn’t want to embarrass him or anything. You had thought the two of you were flirting, but maybe you read the situation wrong. You were notoriously bad in the romance department, something Vella had told you after the third time you had missed a customer trying to flirt with you.

Toast cleared his throat before turning back to you. He noticed you’d stepped back away from him and sighed internally. That would have been the perfect time to kiss you or ask you out or something. Anything other than dancing around each other like you two were doing now. Despite the fact that his brothers believed you two were already together - no matter how much he protested - he still wasn’t sure if you felt the same as he did. He had his suspicions, but what if he was wrong? You were his only friend outside of his brothers and he didn’t want to do anything to mess that up or make it awkward.

He thanked the Maker you didn’t tease him, just turning and starting to wash the dishes. He grabbed a bowl and joined you at the big industrial sink, dunking his hands in the warm sudsy mixture and used the sponge to start scrubbing at the stubborn bits of dough that refused to come off. The two of you worked in silence, though not an uncomfortable one, Toast was glad to find. Just as he was finishing drying the last bowl, he remembered something.

“Oh, uh, I almost forgot. Do you know Senator Amidala?”

“Not personally, but I’ve heard of her.”

“Well, she is throwing a banquet or something in a few days and the bakery that was supposed to handle the desserts fell through at the last minute. Thorn suggested you as a replacement and asked me to ask you if it was possible.”

“Hmm. It depends on how long I’d have, and what kind of desserts she wants. Plus how many guests she’s having. I’m not saying no, but I’m not sure how realistic it is. It’s just me, Vella, and two others on staff.” You had started pacing, already running the logistics through your head.

“What if me and the rest of the guard helped you?”

You paused your pacing to look at him. “That could work… but would you all even be able to take off work?”

“Well, it’s been pretty slow this week and we’re spending most of our time getting ready for the party…” You responded with a noncommittal hum so he pressed on. “How about I call Senator Amidala and Commander Fox on the coms and we can get everything worked out?”

“Yeah, sure. That’d be great.”

For the next twenty minutes you hashed out the details with Senator Amidala - Padmé, she insisted you call her - and Commander Fox. Eventually you settled on an order of one large, four-tiered cake and a hundred little fruit tarts. Fox had been hesitant to lend out his troopers until Padmé had offered to replace the old coffee machine in the guard’s office. The party was in three days, so it would be a tight deadline, but you were sure you could do it. Especially with the guard’s help. There was also the motivating factor of the hefty payment Padmé was offering. It would be enough for you to buy an army of cleaning robots!

As soon as you hung up you were already placing an order of the ingredients and messaging your employees to tell them about the job. You were so focused on your task that you jumped with the oven’s timer dinged. Toast stifled a chuckle behind his hand and you shot him a look as you pulled both loaves of bread out of the oven. Both loaves were a perfect golden brown and looked absolutely delicious.

Toast hovered over your shoulder as you placed the bread on the cooling rack, and you had to slap his hand away a few times as you waited for them to cool. Once you could hold them safely in your hands, you handed Toast his loaf and took yours in your hands. “C’mon, let’s take a picture together with our bread.” You tucked yourself into his side and held your loaf up as he snapped the picture.

Once you were satisfied with the picture you relented to his puppy-dog eyes and cut into the bread. You both slathered a piece in butter and tapped them together as if they were wine glasses before taking a bite.

“Mmmmmhhh,” you both groaned in unison at the first bite of warm bread. There was nothing better.

“This is so good.” You mumbled in between bites.

“So much better than anything in the caf.” Toast agreed, his eyes half-closed in bliss. Before you missed it, you snapped a picture. Toast with his toast. It was perfect.

~~~

You stared at the sight of the twenty clone troopers in front of you, decked out in aprons and hair nets, standing at parade rest in a line as Commander Fox, also in an apron, paced back and forth, hands behind his back, as he gave them their orders.

“Now I want you all on your best behavior. It may seem like you’re on a break, but I want you to treat this as if you’re still on the clock,” He stopped pacing and turned to his men, “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir!” They all responded with a salute.

You took that moment to snap a picture of them all, Fox’s head snapping towards you at the click of the camera. “I want to remember this,” you told him, fighting back a smile.

You turned to Padmé, who had insisted on coming to help out herself, bringing along her two droids and a Jedi to offer some extra hands. She came complete with a chic outfit for the occasion and you envied how good she looked at six in the morning. You showed her the picture and she asked, “Can you send that to me?” Fox huffed loudly and the two of you broke out into a fit of giggles.

Once you got a hold of yourself you started listing out tasks that needed to be done to Fox. “We’ll need people to clean and cut the fruit for the tarts. Another group can help with mixing and cutting the crust. For the cake, we’ll also need one group handling the batter, and another the frosting and decorations. And we can rotate who is on dish duty.”

Fox immediately started delegating out tasks to his troops and you assigned a member of your staff to help each group. Everyone quickly scrambled to start working on their tasks, the troopers clearly very excited to help.

Throughout the day you flitted from group to group, demonstrating how to do things when needed. Your employees were handling everything so well and you made a reminder to yourself to give them a nice bonus after this. You stepped away from where Vella was showing the boys how to make flowers out of frosting and found Toast lecturing his brothers about the right way to measure flour.

“You can’t just scoop it out straight from the bag, you’ll use too much that way. You have to sift it in like this,” He started demonstrating the proper technique for them, and you noticed he had somehow managed to get flour all over himself again.

“Good job, Toast,” You said as you passed him, brushing the flour out of his hair as you went. “Keep up the great work, boys!” You gave them a thumbs up and moved onto the next group, dodging the R2 unit as it made a beeline to the fridge, a tray of freshly cut fruit balanced on its head.

The next two days passed by smoother than you could have hoped. There were only a few minor incidents. Hound tripping over R2 and spilling some batter, Thorn having to scold Jek and Rhys for eating half of their frosting. Nothing you couldn't handle. Commander Fox had everyone working like a well oiled machine, making sure everything stayed on time. Throughout both days, Padmé’s protocol droid busied himself with taking pictures of the event, and Padmé promised to send them all to you after the party.

It got down to the wire, but you managed to put the last slice of jogan fruit on the hundredth tart with forty-five minutes to spare. Your employees handled loading everything up into the speeder to take them to the venue. You watched them out of the corner of your eye to make sure things went smoothly. Padmé came up to you and thanked you profusely for rushing such a huge order and promised to promote your business to all her friends before she and the rest of her entourage hopped into the speeder with your employees and took off for the party.

You turned back to the clone troopers, who had already finished washing up most of the kitchen. “Don’t worry about the rest, guys, I’ve got it. You should probably start heading back and start getting ready.”

“Trying to kick us out so soon?” Fox mused.

You laughed. “Actually, before you go, I have a little surprise for you all. As a way to say thank you and as a pick me up before the party. I know those things can be tiring.” You went and retrieved the gift you had stayed up all last night working on, keeping it behind your back until you were right in front of them.

You held out a plate of cookies shaped like their helmets, each one customized to look like the helmet of each of the troopers there. You had recruited C3-PO to take reference pictures of all of their helmets while they were working, and the droid had really pulled through for you, even managing to get detail shots for you.

“Woah, are these our helmets?” Stone asked as you handed him his cookie.

“Look, it’s me.” Thorn said to Fox as he waggled his cookie in front of his brother’s face. Fox rolled his eyes but even he couldn’t fight his smile away.

You beamed as each of the troopers examined their cookies and thanked you for them. They all groaned as you forced them to get together for one last picture and the shutter had barely flashed before they were scarfing down the cookies.

Once they were done, Fox and Thorn started hoarding the group through the door. Before Toast could follow his brothers, Fox turned to him, “You stay here and help out with the rest of the clean up.”

Toast blinked for a moment before he responded with a “Yes, sir.”

He waited until he was sure the last of his vode were out the door before he turned to you. He planned on saying something funny or romantic, but all his words failed him as you launched yourself at him and pulled him into a big hug. “Thanks for all your help. I couldn’t have done this without you.” You told him, your voice muffled from your spot pressed against his chest. He returned the hug and rested his cheek against the top of your head.

You couldn’t be sure if it was him who tilted his head down or you who tilted your head up, but you soon found yourselves nose to nose. Maybe sleep deprivation lowered your inhibitions, because you soon found yourself raising up on your tiptoes and pressing your lips to his. His arms tightened around you as he returned the kiss, letting out a groan as you both melted into each other. It started off sweet and gentle, but quickly developed into something more heated as you swept your tongue across the seam of his lips. He let out another tortured whine as he opened his mouth up to you, pulling you flush against him with one hand falling down to grab your ass while the other hitched your leg over his hip.

Eventually you needed to come up for air and reluctantly parted from him, a blush rising to your cheeks as the string of saliva that connected you broke and dribbled down your chin. He wiped it away with his thumb before bringing his forehead to rest against yours. The two of you stayed like that for a while, gazing into each other's eyes as you caught your breath.

You brought up one of your hands to brush a bit of flour out of his eyebrow. “You managed to get flour on you somehow. I don’t think we even used flour today.”

He grinned at you. “It’s one of my many charms.”

You giggled and pulled him back in for another kiss. Your lips had just met when you heard a camera shutter go off and you both whipped your heads around to the source of the noise.

Vella stood in the doorway to the kitchen, camera raised and a shit-eating grin on her face. “Haha, I knew it! Thire owes me ten credits!”

Both of you blinked at each other for a moment before joining in with her laughter.

#toast clone #clone trooper toast #toast x reader #toast clone x reader #clone wars fanfic #star wars fanfic #reader insert #won't fade into the background #fun fact: toasts ct number is the year sliced bread was invented

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tartrazeen · 3 years

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Random HankCon Reverse AU Post

I wrote this on Discord some months back, and very luckily somebody fantastic helped me out by finding it! <3 <3 <3 The context was around the HK series already being a canonical type of android in the game: it's a housekeeper model, like the HK-400 Connor hunts down in his first investigation with Hank. So from that, everyone was discussing a reverse AU where Hank was an HK housekeeper, Connor was an overworked older brother taking care of his younger brother, and one of them was proposing that Connor just rent an HK to help around the house and take the load off. And from that, I came up with this roughly described - but still fun and angsty - concept. Picture reading it as I wrote it: mid-conversation, and butting in to slap this idea onto everyone. :D

Omg - Hank helping out enough in just a few ways by making lunch or something, or dinner for the next night, and Connor actually having time to go to sleep and spend time with both of them. Or Hank activating a Cranky Child Up Past His Bedtime protocol and making Connor go to bed, because the poor guy doesn't have an off-switch when every single case just needs a 'few more minutes' for him to crack it.

Connor having such a rough week that his little brother saves up cash from - pfft, I dunno, what's stupidly diabetically sweet enough for this - recycling beer bottles from around the neighbourhood, purely to rent Hank for Connor's sake AND THEN IT BECOMES LIKE SOME KINDA WEIRD-ASS DATE THAT NEITHER OF THEM SEEM TOO INTERESTED IN ENDING But then - then - they get into a bit of a routine like that. Connor's happy enough to rent Hank when his little brother needs him, but now it's grown into a... "Okay, fine, if I need him too, then that just helps both of us. That's okay." ... And then one day, his little brother's staying at a friend's house or something, and Connor's - just... bored? Lonely? Tired? He's not sure. But he flicks over to a website, sees Hank is available, and decides to rent Hank really just for himself. And it's the first time that's ever happened without a kid in the house or without Connor himself being too exhausted to function, so it officially becomes a weird-ass date of them hanging around. Maybe going outside to get air. Whatever happens. Now here's where I can draw upon some more IRL bullshit: water heater rentals. These things last ten years, you pay $40 a month to rent them, but at the end of the tenth year, you'd still have to pay to buy it out. And that - despite everything you pay - could still cost like $6,000. Even if you bought the thing outright, it would've cost $5,000.

I say that because I imagine Connor getting to the point where he's thinking... he might buy Hank. Whenever rental products go up for sale, there's usually a steep discount, so he thinks it won't cost too much. No one else rents Hank as much as he does anyway, and he's not sure how much he's spent, but surely that would knock the price down. He's still very much trying to think of this as a practical transaction to manage the purchase of a machine, after all. Except Connor is the one asking to buy Hank. The company isn't offering. So the sticker shock at the price is - just... unbelievable. To the point that Connor very much regrets even opening his mouth. And the nanny company says it's that or they throw Hank out, because - just the IRL - they can't be seen selling Hank cheaper or giving him away when they're done with him, or they'd never make any money. "People would just wait until he's thrown out and go dumpster diving." So now we have a ticking clock and Connor has a bill to pay. We could do two things from here: 1) Connor gets the money (spoiler). It isn't easy. He's already doing all the overtime he's allowed because he's volunteered for it - he can't afford to let something like sleep get in the way of catching a murderer - so he's making the most that he can. He doesn't have any vacation or sick days to cash in because he's used them all whenever he's burnt out; that's probably why he looked into getting Hank in the first place. And it's not like he has time to get a second job or anything. It's his little brother that asks, "Do we really need a car?"

So they both start selling everything. They don't really need a crappy couch. This table's been wobbly since day one. A garage full of crap that is coated in dust and grime is just enough to get them over the edge of it. And it's a weird feeling, bringing a nanny-bot back to an almost empty house. Connor might comment on how there'd be a lot less to clean, which is bullshit, but the best he can in defence of it all. So Hank takes it for what it is, slowly appreciating exactly what this meant for all of three of them. It's an empty house that's quickly become a full home. 2) Connor doesn't get the money (yesssssssssssss) Because there's just no way to pay that. It's ridiculous - even if he could afford it, he should still be arresting these people, because this is an obvious robbery. He can't make that last leap to admit this is more than a machine to help around the house, and the company - just... "Okay. You have three days to change your mind if you're interested." His little brother tries to get him to. He asks if Connor can just sell the car. Not only is that a bad idea, because how else is Connor going to get to work, but who's going to pay that much for it anyway? It's not worth it, Hank is a walking piece of plastic programmed to be friendly, and if they need a nanny-bot so bad, they can buy a new one for a third of what the rental company is charging. On the second-last day, his little brother tries the ol' "Rent Hank for Connor's sake" trick. It's a last-ditch effort to get Connor to admit that they would all feel awful losing Hank, machine or not. He's real enough to them, right? Wrong. Plastic. Money. Facts. Connor's more pissed that his little brother wasted more cash that could've gone towards paying a price they would never be able to afford anyway, and walks off to let his little brother hang out with the android for a last night. He doesn't want to draw this out for himself, and Hank had better be gone by the time Connor comes home.

Connor doesn't do much. He mostly just walks around for hours. And for way too long - eventually, he's at a park, and there's Hank emerging from the snow (oh yeah, it's snowing) to gently wait there in silence. That goes on for long enough for Connor to accept that he's going to miss Hank. It's a short conversation, and Hank's used the Cranky Kid protocol for Connor to know to start heading back, but that's all Connor says: "We'll miss you, I guess. Thanks." Hank is gone by the time Connor wakes up. The house is quiet, his little brother has his breakfast, and Connor has his lunch made. And that is what really gets to him. Hank - over and above his programming - once again took care of Connor, too. Those walls that were already dropping finally drop the rest of the way, and knowing perfectly well that he's too late, he calls the rental company up to ask if there's a payment plan or some extension or anything he can do to keep Hank. There is! Fortunately! And if Connor would like to arrange that for any of these other rental androids, the company can certainly help. What about Hank? Well, this is a business. They had a deadline and costs around that deadline, so they couldn't keep waiting around forever in the hopes that some family changed their mind about buying a standard android. It's unfortunate, but yes, Hank was appropriately disposed of. Would Connor like to buy another android that looks like Hank instead? Connor hangs up before they can give him the full sales pitch. His little brother notices. His work notices. Everyone notices that Connor's different lately. He's reached an almost terrifying level of laser focus on his work. He has all the time he wants to catch all the bad guys he feels like, and he does because who's going to stop him, really? And it goes like that while his little brother keeps asking for Connor to rent a different android, or to just buy one that's like Hank. On and on and on and on and on and on and on until Connor finally just loses it, dumps his phone on the ground, tells his brother to do whatever the hell he wants so long as he shuts up, and storms back out. He's out there for hours in the cold, half to spite Hank's memory - that he's become painfully reliant on for reasons he ascribes to guilt - and half because he knows it's not only guilt he's feeling. Everything tingles. His fingers, his nose, his ears, and he's at least considering going home to his car so he can warm up without having to do a walk-of-shame back inside. He's saving that for when his brother's asleep. This is roughly a minute before he notices Hank walking out in the snow. Not Hank. Not exactly. It's another android that looks like Hank, and that jolt in Connor's chest twists into a searing ache again. He's changed his mind and he's out here entirely for spite now, because his little brother must've called his bluff and rented another nanny and sent him to drag Connor home.

He's committed to that until Hank mentions the number of times Connor's tried to fight him on going to bed, and the grand total of zero times that Hank's lost this fight. Hank's very good at this. He's had to deal with a lot of rough families and teenagers. Hank remembers that because each family has a profile saved based on every visit: preferences, schedules, the kids' needs, memories... They've always been backed up. It's a business, after all. It takes Connor a few minutes to get it. He's still trying to decide if this android is real or not, let alone... his Hank. And Hank is perfectly willing to keep coming back to convince him. And he will, every time, for as long as Connor keeps a copy of his memories. ... But it is going to be after Connor is in bed. Connor's never been happier to get dragged away, kicking at this 1.98m cuddle-bear the whole time.

#dbh #detroit become human #hankcon #hannor #hank x connor #reverse au #angst #fluff #rough draft #ripped straight from discord #my stuff #good job tartra

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mxndoscyarika · 3 years

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Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 2

Summary: Erin He moves to DC after working for the FBI in Texas and runs into a hero in disguise; Marcus Moreno. Something about him is familiar, too familiar, yet different in a way that she can’t quite place. Although confused, she can’t deny her feelings for him; perhaps, after years of regret, she finally found the one.

Warnings: food/drink, alcohol, loneliness

Ao3

Honeydew masterlist

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Author’s Note: Merry Christmas, everyone! Here’s a little gift from me to you 😌 I hope you like it! Let me know what you think in the comments below.

8 years later

Winter in DC was too cold. It had reached that time of year when the roads turned icy at the slightest humidity in the air, and it had already snowed at least twice since December began. Thankfully, the snow didn’t stick around very long; FBI agents were on-call 24/7. A double-edged sword, really. On one hand, it meant work was a great way to avoid problems. It was easier to forget. On the other hand, well, it was work.

“Six years in this city and it’s still so fucking cold,” Erin muttered to herself, shivering as her car warmed up. She buried her face into the scarf wrapped around her neck, trying to warm up. The warmth from the heated steering wheel seeped into her fingers, soothing the ache in her joints. She was supposed to meet Sachi at the bar for drinks. It had become a regular event in her weekly life; one night a week to go out and relax.

Some would’ve said that her promotion meant she could take more time off. That she could delegate a little more and take on a lighter workload as a result. But as a supervisor for the Operational Technologies branch, she had all the more reason to work more. Well, that’s what she convinced herself, at least.

Her friend and coworker, Sachi, was already seated at a table by the time she arrived. The bar was pretty busy, busier than the week before. It made sense; the holidays were always a time for friends and family to catch up on each other’s lives.

“Hi! Sorry I’m late, a meeting went overtime and I ran into some traffic on the way here,” Erin apologized, draping her wool coat over the back of her seat and sitting down. The next article to be shed was her scarf, which she kept piled on her lap. “Were you waiting long?”

“No, no worries,” her friend answered, shrugging. “I just got this table a couple minutes ago. Happy hour seems extra popular this week. How was the meeting?”

She rolled her eyes. “The usual; operations found some bugs in the new software and had some suggestions, so half of the developers will be working on that while the rest continue building our newest tool. How did your day go?”

“It was so slow, I don’t know which politician decided to choose yesterday to fuck up, but there were files everywhere,” Sachi groaned, rubbing her forehead tiredly. Her eyes landed on the sparkling gem on Erin’s hand. “I do have a question for you, though: why do you wear that ring?”

She raised a dark brow, then followed her line of sight to her hand. “Oh, this? It’s….it’s just something to keep the men away, that’s all. You know how they are.”

A curious head tilt. “I do, but are you sure that’s what you want? You deserve to find someone who makes you happy, Rin.”

Erin gave her a tight-lipped smile, twisting the metal band around her finger. It was a recent purchase; a gift to herself. A promise. A promise to remember. Even if he wasn’t hers to remember, at the end of the day.

“Is this still about that Marcus Pike guy?” Sachi asked, her voice softening as Erin avoided looking up. She reached across the table and covered her hand with hers. The glittering band of her own wedding ring seemed to mock her. “It’s been seven years since he went missing, Rin. You searched for him yourself; he’s gone.”

The news had broken just before Erin arrived in DC. Marcus Pike had gone missing, and there seemed to be no trace of him. His last known address was empty, his file had been wiped from all government databases, even his social media accounts were nonexistent.

One of the first things she did after her promotion was asking for a search squad. His number was still in her phone, but the number was no longer receiving calls. Even his email seemed to be deactivated, but it had existed before. There should’ve been a digital trail. It didn’t matter to her that it had been months since he was last seen–he was her best friend, and she wasn’t going to give up on him that easily.

Juggling her work with the investigation took its toll on her. Sleep eluded her, so she upped her coffee intake and spent countless hours off the clock. As a result, exhaustion settled in mid-day. Her work grew sloppy, obvious problems going untended and creating delays in operations.

The head of the department shut down her search after a year. He had cited it being a “waste of resources.” Maybe it was, to them. For such a large bureau with so many applicants, there was bound to be a replacement for Agent Pike. But even so, no one could replace Marcus.

“I know,” she replied softly. “I know. I’m trying, it’s just...I’ve spent years working for the FBI, and every time I stop to check the time, it’s like months have passed. And you know how my last relationship ended.”

She had been seeing a guy working for a tech startup, and at first it was great. The late nights and morning texts had been enough. But as time went on, and she became more immersed in her work following the election, her boyfriend grew restless. He wanted his girlfriend at home with him, preparing dinner and asking him about his day at the startup. Then he started the accusations. He accused her of cheating, of rubbing her success in his face.

Everything he said was false, but she had given up on trying to convince him. So she gave him a choice. He could leave if he wanted to, and there would be no hard feelings, just incompatibility. Or, he could stay, and she’d try to make more time for him. He chose the former.

“Oh come on,” Sachi reasoned, tapping the back of her hand. “You’re beautiful, smart, can kick ass. There has to be someone who’s into that.”

“Maybe,” Erin shrugged. Once upon a time, she had hoped she would meet someone like that. And in a way, she had. But at the end of the day, she was a coward. She was a coward, and she paid the price for it.

They always said that time was money. In her case, the price she paid was high.

Sachi’s eyes lit up. “You know what? Why don’t you come to a holiday party I’m hosting? Maybe you’ll meet someone there.”

“Who’s going?”

“Some of our coworkers, some of my friends, and their friends, potentially,” she listed off, waving off her concern. “Nothing very special, in my opinion.”

A party would be nice. If not for the company, then for the food; and if not the food, then the drinks. Yes, the drinks. Drinks were good.

Erin conceded with a nervous grin. “Alright, but no meddling!”

“Yay!” she squealed. Then, her expression turned serious again. She pointed at the ring. “But whatever you do, don’t wear that.”

---

Sachi’s house looked like it was out of a movie. Tall and sparkling with lights, her home was the textbook picture of a family Christmas. There was even a wreath on the front door and a wooden sign with drawn-on snowflakes that welcomed the party guests.

The foyer was lined with emerald garlands and shimmering fairy lights, leading her further in towards the kitchen. From giant gold ornaments to wooden figurines, it seemed as if she had thought of everything.

When she reached the kitchen, there were already some guests gathered around the kitchen island. Platters of sweets and charcuterie boards were spread over the marble countertop, glistening in the soft light. The guests grazed from small plates as they greeted each other and raved about how great it was to finally catch up.

Perhaps she’d host her own holiday party someday. When she had the space, of course. The apartment that she’d chosen wasn’t the best for groups, and she wanted enough surface area for decorations. Her string of lights and small tree at home paled in comparison to the giant tree in Sachi’s living room.

The invite had specified a semi-formal dress code, so she chose a black off-the-shoulder dress that reached her knees. She paired it with some black heels and a white blazer draped over her shoulders for warmth. It wasn’t much, but it would do.

“Erin!” Sachi squealed, coming over to give her a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here. You’re right on time. Everyone else should be arriving soon.” She shooed her away. “Go have fun! And if you need a wingwoman, I’ve got your back.”

Erin shivered as Sachi swept off her jacket, the cool air brushing against her shoulders. Nevertheless, she smiled. “Thanks.”

“Of course!” she replied. The next thing she knew, a glass of champagne was tucked into her hand. “Now go!”

What Sachi had failed to tell her, though, was that she was going to be one of the only singles in the entire house.

Wherever she turned, she found couples congregated into circles where they could discuss...whatever couples discussed. Not wanting to barge in as a third, fifth, or seventh wheel, she stuck close to the perimeter of the room.

Thankfully, she found an acquaintance from work who had also come to the party alone.

“Waiting for someone?” Ashley asked, sipping from a half-empty glass of wine. She was one of the receptionists for the technologies department. They’d spoken a couple times, but never much more than professional talk.

Erin shook her head and finished her third glass of champagne. Maybe she’d try the moscato next, just to change things up a little. The whole point of attending the party was to relax, right? So, she was trying to relax. “Just trying to loosen up. It’s been a while since I’ve gone to a party.” A soft laugh. “I can see why people like bringing a friend along. It would help a lot.”

“Why didn’t you, then?” At the lack of response, she sighed. “Is work still taking up a lot of time? You know you can take more time off.”

Yes, she knew. She’d heard it nearly a thousand times already. She knew she could take time off just like she knew she could forget about her past and move on. Part of her wanted to change, to move on as if nothing had happened. But after years of the same routine, and the same decisions coming back to bite her, it was hard to change.

“I know,” Erin replied, pressing a hand against her forehead. It was hotter than normal–did Sachi turn up the heating? She silently cursed her genetics; she’d probably have a fever later that night. “But as you know, there’s always more work to do. I signed up for this, so I need to do my job.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t rest,” she reasoned, nudging her arm. “Are you still leading the search for that guy? Marcus Pike? I remember you were pretty involved with that.”

Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was the alcohol. She gripped the glass a bit tighter. Her voice was clipped as she said, “No, I’m not. The search squad was disbanded years ago. We spent a year searching for him and there was nothing. There was nothing.” She swayed as she stood up, but quickly regained her balance. “I’m gonna….get another drink. Is there anything you want me to bring?”

“No thanks,” Ashley replied. Watching as Erin stumbled, she asked, “Are you sure you want another drink? Maybe you should take a break first.”

She waved her off. “I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s just the shoes.”

Yeah, right.

Erin’s turn around the corner was much too sharp, and her sluggish mind barely seemed to register the fact that she collided with a broad chest. Strong arms came up around her, holding her in place so she didn’t fall over. They were warm. Before she could stop herself, she splayed her hands on their chest, brows furrowed. What did Sachi put in there?

Then, she looked up and met the person’s eyes. Dark brown ones, to be exact. With a depth and sparkle that she hadn’t seen since Austin. Softly, she said, “M-Marcus?”

The man’s lips parting in shock. As Erin’s slightly-blurred gaze drifted down to his mouth, she frowned. No, it couldn’t be her Marcus; her Marcus didn’t have facial hair, nor did he wear glasses. He was handsome, though–just as handsome. And he was strong–she felt safer in his arms than she had in years.

“H-how do you know my name?”

His voice was similar, too, though a bit raspier.

She blinked. Then, it dawned on her; it wasn’t a dream. She really was at a party, in a dress pressed up against a very good-looking man who looked vaguely like her late best friend. It felt as if she had jumped into the snow without clothes on. She blushed and flinched away from him–as if she needed to be even redder–and said, “Sorry, you just look a bit like an old friend of mine. His name was also Marcus.”

It was her, Marcus realized. He would have recognized her voice anywhere, and when she looked up at him with those dark, green-flecked eyes, his years in Texas came rushing back to him. Part of him didn’t want to believe it. What was she doing in DC? And what were the chances that they’d meet again, with his changed identity?

Even so, she was as beautiful as he remembered, her smooth black hair styled into shining waves and her full lips painted a muted pink. In their time as friends, he rarely saw Erin out of her work clothes; a side effect of working for the FBI. Seeing her in a dress, and up close, against his chest felt like a dream. A dream that had plagued his mind for nearly a decade.

At the same time, she looked different. There was an air of exhaustion that clung to her just as tightly as her authority. Her eyes didn’t have the same bright sparkle that she had on her first day. He wondered if her smile was the same, and if she still took her coffee with two sugars and a splash of cream. If she still collected houseplants as if they were pets. If she was still the Erin he remembered.

The tugging in his chest pulled him towards her, and the old whisper of Marcus Pike urged him to tell the truth. To drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. To tell her that he was sorry for leaving her, for dismissing her concerns about Lisbon. For disappearing without a trace. But Marcus Moreno, his new identity, his new life, knew it wouldn’t be fair to her.

So he introduced himself. A wave of relief washed over him as Erin giggled softly and shook his hand, telling him her name.

He’d missed her laugh, and the way the corners of her eyes crinkled just slightly when she was happy. He missed everything. He missed her.

“So,” she began, swaying a little. Her last drink was finally kicking in. Her brows furrowed in concentration. “How do you know, uh, Sachi?”

The little furrow of her brows was still adorable; he knew it only showed when she was thinking really hard. He just hoped she would remember their interaction in the morning. She rarely drank enough to get drunk, not wanting to bother with her body’s violent reaction to alcohol. Or so she told him.

“I’m a friend of her husband,” he replied, touching her arm softly as she swayed again. “Do you…do you want to sit down for a bit? We can keep talking, I just want to make sure you don’t get hurt.”

Erin hummed softly and nodded. “Yes, but don’t worry, I can handle a little fall.”

“I don’t doubt you can, Miss FBI.” Realizing his mistake, he cringed. So much for trying to have a fresh start. He guided her over to the table and pulled out a chair for her, making sure she was comfortable before sitting down in the seat next to her.

She frowned. “How do you know I work for the FBI?”

A pause. Then, he answered, “I overheard Sachi talking about you. You two seem to be pretty close.”

Drumming her fingertips on the table, she answered, “I guess so, yeah. She was one of my first friends after I moved here six years ago.” Her eyes glazed over with a tinge of sadness. “Time seems to be flying by very fast these days.”

Marcus sighed softly. “Yeah.” He offered her a smile that made her heart flutter. Or maybe that was just her stomach? “I guess it’s up to us to make the most out of it, right?”

She nodded. Propping her head up against her hand, she replied, “Definitely. So, tell me about yourself, Marcus Moreno. I think you mentioned a daughter?”

He couldn’t help but smile at the mention of Missy. If there was anything he didn’t regret in the past few years, it was meeting his late wife and raising his baby. But the story of his wife could come later; for now, he wanted to tell his best friend about his little girl.

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siimjaeyun · 3 years

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Chapter 9: Vampires and Prison Visits

Synopsis: Out of nowhere, a vampire appears in Seoul looking to rob random objects that at first glance appear to have no connection. In the course of trying to figure out their intentions, you all find yourselves going to the local city prison where you meet one of the old members of Mystery Co.

Series Masterlist

------

“Isn’t this charity just wonderful Shayla?” Mina Park, Jay and Y/n’s mother clasped her hands together as she saw the total money count raise slowly.

“I guess the auction seems to be going well.” Shayla, your mother’s friend responded with an almost dry smile.

“Next up, is this painting.” The lead host brought out a painting of a castle, that to be fairly honest, caught no intentions of being purchased.

“Do I hear $5….$4…$3…?” No hands went up, and soon the room went dark with a power outage. A large movement was heard in the crowd and when the lights had returned, they witnessed a figure standing in the corner of the room.

It was the vampire holding the once disregarded painting.

------

“If I knew Sunghoon was going to try to brag about his body, I would have worked out.” Jay observed as his friend slowly removed his shirt as if trying to prove a point.

“Don’t be jealous my dear friend, I’m just perfect.” He had absolutely no guilt as he threw Sunghoon into the pool; a small complaint exited from the members who were already in the pool.

“You almost made me drop my smoothie!” Sunoo splashed water at Sunghoon who seemed to be planning his revenge while looking at both Jay and Jake who were seated by the edge.

In the meantime, you were comfortably resting in the pool chair next to Heeseung who was rambling on about methods to trap an intruder who trespassed onto your home.

“This is a disaster!” Your mother walked into the back pool and waved her hands through her hair.

“What happened Mrs.Park?”

“A vampire is what happened. They ruined the charity.” Jake, who had managed to somehow become her favorite, handed her a drink to de-stress from the night’s incident.

“Hmm, maybe it’s worth a try investigating don’t you think?”

“Maybe, but I’d rather stay here y’know, just exist.” You ignored Heeseung’s request and grabbed your earbuds.

“Count me out too, Jay and I plan to just lay here, in the sun.” Jake and Jay found a comfortable seat on the chairs and sat back with their smoothies.

“You guys are lame. Come on guys.” Heeseung first tossed a spare shirt to Sunghoon, then hurried the younger trio into the van to find this new undead member.

------

“If you were a vampire, where would you visit?” Heeseung asked while keeping his focus on the road before him.

“The arcade!” Niki responded enthusiastically, which gained the approval of the other members in the van.

“The cemetery sounds like a great idea Niki!” He pushed on the accelerator and sent the boys on a fun trip. Seeing as walking in the dark with tombs was not enough of an adventure for the five of them, they made their way to the blood bank next.

Sunghoon became the new designated driver as he waited for the oldest friend to return from the clinic.

“What do you think the others are doing?”

What were you doing? Absolutely nothing.

Thanks to your family wealth, you, Jay, and Jake were laying down as three workers had come to give the three of you a massage. None of you paid much attention to the world around you, that is until you saw your mother place a coat around her shoulders on the way out.

“Hey Mom, where are you going?” She turned around abruptly and gave a nervous response.

“To...uhm...get some bacon, yeah.” Her two feet dragged her off which left both you and Jay to wonder about her sudden words.

“Something’s up, she knows she’s allergic to pork.” All of you paused your massages and followed her out the door. Your mother’s footsteps quickened as time went on, and turn after turn led you to lose track of her.

“H-how does she walk that fast?”

“She speed walks every morning, but look, the garden lights are on, maybe she’s there.” Jay pointed at the brightened sphere a couple blocks away, leading you towards it.

In the meantime, Heeseung had returned from his trip; shirt and face covered in a red substance.

“I-is that blood?” Jungwon retreated backwards as he saw Heeseung take a towel to wipe his face.

“Nah, the juice box exploded. Relax.” Sunghoon chuckled at his odd friend before his eyes became drawn by a light shining below them.

“The city garden lights are on, that’s weird.” Heeseung pushed Sunghoon back into the shotgun seat before taking in the same sight. Then a loud shriek escaped from the same city garden.

“Maybe our vampire is there, let’s go.”

-------

The team of five members had arrived; their shadows visible on the flowers and bushes present inside the garden.

“Let’s set a trap. Sunoo, climb on Niki’s shoulders.” Jungwon helped Sunoo up onto Niki’s shoulders to set up the net on one of the branches. When they finished, all five of them made their way to hide behind the set of bushes that were planted nearby.

You, Jay, and Jake had appeared at the city garden as well. Without a sign of your mother, it seemed an almost hopeless mission, or until you startled the five teens waiting.

“Lee Heeseung, put me down!” Heeseung came to his senses when your voice traveled to his ears. As fast as he could, he helped untie the ropes alongside Sunghoon, which caused your bundle to come crashing down.

“Are you okay?” Jake beat Heeseung towards extending a hand to pick you up from the ground, leaving Heeseung to glare as you smiled at Jake.

“What are you guys doing here anyway? I thought you didn’t want to come.” Sunoo asked as he leaned against the trees in the area.

“Jay and Y/n’s mom left suddenly and we thought it was suspicious. We thought she would be here, but guess not.” The light from a lantern suddenly shined on their silhouettes, and the caretaker of the area had suddenly appeared.

“You kids better get home, it’s late and you’re trespassing.” Without much thought you obeyed the orders, slowly trailing towards the exit when the vampire appeared while dangling off one of the tree branches. Their body was hunched and their fangs snapped at your body as it chased all of you down. Eight bodies sprinted around the area until you came down toppling and getting stuck in one of the nearby exhibits.

The vampire sneakily leaned on towards the glass and took hold of the orchid planted in the ground, and she left once more without a trace.

“Ahh shit.” A sole curse word left the lips of Sunghoon who saw himself as the base of this unexpected pyramid.

------

“Sunghoon’s mother probably has a lot of information on vampires.” Jungwon was the first to enter the shop taking in the familiar scene from his early middle school days.

“Hey kids, what brings you here?” Sunghoon’s mother waved at your group, motioning to come take a seat by the countertops.

“We were hoping to get more information on vampires, with the recent cases and all.”

“Of course, all of this section will have everything you’re looking for.” She signaled at the four book cases paired up right after another. While the other members started on the first book case, you noticed a shadow moving in the background. Your intuition let you follow it without much care, and it knocked over a book from the shelf. You picked it up and placed it back before it bounced back; it happened at least two more times.

“The answers you seek.”

You opened it up and found a magazine inside: How to Achieve Immortal Youth

“Look.” You tossed the magazine into Jungwon’s hands who read off slowly from the page.

“Want to achieve immortal youth? Mixing these ingredients into one smoothie will achieve just that...a painting...an orchid...wine from 1917...and the devil’s ruby.”

“Looks like someone didn’t get the memo about this being a prank.” Sunoo continued to flip through pages, and confirmed that it was just another teen gossip magazine.

“If our vampire is following this recipe, then their next ingredient is 1917 wine.” Jay stared at you, knowing very well where they could get such wine.

“Minnie’s Restaurant is the only place in town with this kind, we go there sometimes.” All of you stared at one another until you got pulled into the next stop.

Yes ladies and gentleman, Heeseung was going to sneak his friends inside the wine vault of an expensive restaurant.

His first plan was to get a table directly, sending Sunghoon, Jake, and Jay into the place dressed as businessmen.

When that failed, he tried shoving Sunoo, Niki, and Jungwon through the back window of the kitchen.

When that also failed, he managed to sneak all of the team through the excuse of needing to go to the bathroom.

“Did you really tell them I was seven?” Niki looked at the oldest with disbelief as they finally managed to go into the wine vault.

But you and Jay stayed back, catching your mother eating dinner with her friend Shayla.

“Come on, before that freak show arrives.” The eight of you continued to scrummage through the bottles of wine, continuous sounds of clinking were audible through the entire room.

All of the flames on the torches suddenly went out, and the gust of wind followed the vampire as it leapt through the building tops. It once more tracked you down and ended up trapping you inside a room after continuous running through the halls.

“One more to go, and I’ll be young!” Jungwon banged his head against the metal pipes and observed as the vampire escaped through the backdoor, again.

-------

“I heard the last person who saw the devil’s ruby is at the local state prison.”

“It must be in their custody so it’s best to make the trap there.” Heeseung commented as he finally parked the classic van next to the entrance of the prison.

After a cautious security examination, your group finally managed to enter the facility. In the course of talking to an officer, and a tune escaping from your locket, a sudden voice emerged from afar.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the new mystery co.?”

“He spoke.” The guard quickly took out his keys and opened the white cell door.

“Who did?” Jake tried getting a response from the guard, but managed nothing when all of you saw a man dressed in prison uniform looking at all of you directly.

“He’s Daniel Kim, the one who made those kids disappear, he has never talked until now.” You opened your locket and glanced back on the man.

“You’re one of the original members of Mystery Co.”

“That’s right, but if there is anything I have to say is that you’re close to finding out about the curse hidden behind Seoul...ahh...and sometimes you have to be careful of the people around you, especially you Lee Heeseung.” Daniel used his head to signal at Heeseung who tensed up at the man’s statement.

“Visiting hours are over, hurry on.” The cell door closed once more and all of you stood agape looking at each other.

“One mystery at a time. First the vampire, then this.” A deep sigh left all of you while you attempted to dangle ropes over the building.

-------

“Why are Sunoo, Jungwon, and Niki covered in garlic?” Sunghoon and Jay judged the appearance of their friends who stood by the doorway.

“You can never be too prepared.” Sunoo shrugged his shoulders and followed Jake into their designated place of hiding and waiting for the vampire.

“I don’t care who the vampire is as long as it’s not my mom.” You commented while Heeseung used his binoculars to stay on lookout.

“Come on, yeah she’s a little odd, but not a vampire.” He gave you a smile, and you shoved him slightly as you all kept waiting.

Eventually, the vampire lunged forward from the rooftop and tried to swing at the ruby before one of its arms got caught in the net. It let itself go and tried to pry at the ruby again before Niki and Jungwon shouted in terror as they dropped on top of the vampire, squishing whoever was in the set-up.

“That was not the plan, but sure.” All of you helped Jungwon and Niki up and placed zip ties around the creature’s wrist.

“You know mom, this isn’t cool.” Jay crossed his arms before his mother standing behind him startled him.

“Wait, if mom isn’t the vampire then…” He pulled off the rubber mask which revealed your mother’s friend Shayla instead.

“Shayla?”

“That’s right. As many may see, my young looks have been fading away, but your mother...your mother just still looks stunning so I figured the only answer must be that she’s a vampire. I was reading a magazine when I saw the recipe for the immortal youth juice, which would fix my problems. Using my degree in physical education, I was able to rely on my strength alone to give myself the flying appearance. And I would have gotten away with it too, if it wasn’t for your young looking meddling mother!”

The police had arrived and meanwhile you and Jay gave your mother a hug.

“Wait, then why have you been sneaking off at night? For a moment, we thought you were a vampire.” Your mother just laughed at your question and gave you a slip of a paper.

“I’ve been doing night school, I just wanted it to be a surprise.” Cheers erupted from your mouths as you looked at her proudly; it was one of the calmest moments with your family in a while.

------

Alarms went off at the local state prison. Hues of red and blue glowed against the night sky while chaos emerged from the station as officers struggled to secure the site.

“Yes Chief, everyone has been accounted for. Well, except for one.” The officer on the phone stared at the open white cell door who was missing its captive.

Daniel Kim had escaped prison.

-------

Next- Chapter 10: Call of the Cicada

Taglist: @softkons @nikisboxysmile

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #heeseung #heeseung imagines #jake imagines #jungwon #niki #sunghoon #jay #enhypen jake #enhypen jay

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seizethecarpe · 3 years

Text

Drown || Dave and Mina

Timing: Current, after Dave and Solomon had an encounter with a wolf. Summary: There is a monster in this lake. Warnings: ...None.

Dave was snacking on Trout. His arm was tightly bandaged, carefully smothered in antiseptic where that rabid werewolf had bitten right through his skin and into his muscle, and he held that arm firmly out of the water as he waded in the water knee high. He was looking for a Vodnik to replace the one he’d lost on the last hunt. Damn tree creature, damned werewolf. There was a shit ton of money lying on this job and Dave still had to have funds to pay for Marley’s investigation alongside the van repairs that were getting on the urgent side. He was feeling real peckish but felt he could ignore it as he moved deeper and deeper into the waters. There was a gentle ripple in the water, so small no huma might notice the tiny pressure changes in it. But Dave did. Something small as a vodnik, he was sure. Hunger nibbling at his thoughts, Dave forgot to care about keeping his injured arm above water and he sunk into the depths, slicing through the water after the figure he could sense in there. By the time he knew she wasn’t a vodnik. He didn’t care. He needed to eat.

The search for Mina to find a more suitable water source than a bloody pool wasn’t exactly a quest that she was taking seriously, at this point. She wasn’t going to say that she liked the pool; that would be embarrassing and not true. She just liked the company, liked being around people, liked feeling somewhat comfortable. But she was still a water nymph, a creature of nature, so she did still need to get out every now and then and soak somewhere. So, Mina had gone out for a few hours and just sunk down to the bottom of the lake that she’d found, just breathing for a bit. She allowed her scales to cover her body under her clothes, not fully shifting but enough that she was comfortable. She stayed like that, almost napping, for over an hour. She’d been planning on moving to get out when she sensed something, someone, coming towards her. Heading up, Mina broke the surface before the other person did. When she saw who it was, she couldn’t help but be just a bit confused. “Dave?” He looked hurt. She couldn’t keep the concern out of her voice as she asked, “Are you alright?”

His name cut through the bloody haze in Dave’s mind. He stopped short, staring at the you woman. “Mina?” Dave repeated, the words not sitting right on his tongue. He paused, looking at her. “The hell are you doing out here?” His eyes flicked over the scales of her skin, her exposed throat, her face. His mouth was beginning to salivate, starving despite the trout he’d just abandoned not even twenty feet away. “It’s not safe. There’s something in this water killing folks.” He couldn’t get his eyes to meet hers, his hand gestures erratically punctuating his words. Although what the danger was, he wasn’t sure. The thought had escaped his mind as he took in the small crease of concern between her eyebrows. There was definitely something. He had a gut feeling for it, a gnawing, awful certainty that ate at him. He was looking at her too long. It dawned on Dave, slowly, that she had to be the danger. She had to be the beast he was hunting, deceiving him with her appearance so he’d assume he was an acquaintance. He could tell, in his gut, that he needed to tear her open to prove himself right. Once he’d had the thought, it became all consuming (as if it hadn’t been before.) “You’re a liar,” he said harshly, before lunging at her with his jaw open, canines dripping with drool.

“There’s always something in the water that’s killing people,” Mina said with a slight frown, trying to meet Dave’s eyes. He looked different that she last saw him, though perhaps that was from the lack of a high stress environment. Still, Dave seemed quite stressed. She felt something like dread in her stomach as he looked at her, called her a liar. “No, Dave, no. I’m not a--” But then he lunged, and it was all she could do to keep his teeth from ripping into her throat. Mina just barely managed to hold him back, one hand catching around the neck while the other pushed away. “Hey!” This wasn’t good. Something wasn’t right. What was wrong with him? “Stop! Please, Dave, listen to me, please! I’m not-- What did I lie about?” She should leave. She was in danger, and she should leave, but she couldn’t. Something was wrong. Dave was a kind man, a good man. He was a person. She believed he was a person. Something was wrong.

Please, Dave, listen to me. He paused again, staring at her, blinking. Water dripped from her features, her octopus eyes wide and terrified. Had he done that? He swam back a little, giving her some distance. “I don’t-” he began, inhaling sharply. She smelled like fresher water than this pond had to offer, sweeter than most meat but with a hint of iron one wouldn’t normally expect. His mind zeroed in on the smell of her flesh, subconsciously licking his lips. “You’re not her,” he growled. It was the only explanation his brain could parse for the feeling in his gut, but then he inhaled again, and he didn’t need to parse anything anymore. He grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him. There was only one thought, a single word that was as loud as the beat of his heart. The only reason to exist. The only purpose she had. He was starving, and in a pond full of trout, she was his only option.

“I’m not-- of course I’m me,” Mina said, voice panicked. She needed to try and get through to him. “Please, Dave, please. I’m Mina! You’re Dave! You’re--” a gasp cut of her words as he pulled her in, and she knew she had to get away from him. She had to get away. Whatever was going on with him wasn’t listening to reason. His grip was like iron but lacking the burn of it. Still, she couldn’t pull away. So, Mina brought up her foot and planted it in Dave’s chest, trying to fight him off. She needed to get away from him, now. There was nothing else that could be done. He’d kill her if she didn’t, wouldn’t he? She could see it in his eyes. She wondered if he could see the fear in hers. She wondered if he cared. A part of her, the part that was beginning to think that the kind man she met before had been a facade, didn’t believe that he cared at all.

“No,” Dave growled. Her high voice could not pierce the waves of need rising up in him, the unthinkable, demonic desire that Dave did not even know he had. It felt as natural and unquestionable to him as his rage. Dave grunted, the kick knocking the air out of his lungs and knocking him underwater with a heavy splash. Thick clouds of algae swamped his vision, clinging to his skin and his clothes. His arm had begun to bleed again, the jagged tear of the bite stinging as the bandage began to unravel. With a bark, Dave breached the surface, shaking water from his hair as he lunged at her again, teeth bared as he tried to drag her underwater. Seeing red, seeing flesh, Mina was as valuable as the fish to him.

The iron in blood was always less harmful to Mina while she was in the water. She ducked beneath the surface, the cloud of Dave’s blood drifting over her, the scent of it filling her, as he lunged at her, completely disregarding his own wellbeing in his pursuit. He wasn’t going to stop, she realized, the feeling of it making her sick to her stomach and distracting her long enough for him the jump her, pushing her down further. Had she been anything other than what she was, the thrashing would have knocked all the air from her lungs. As it was, when she took in water, she could still breathe. She’d never properly been grateful to be a nix until that moment. She pushed away Dave’s gnashing teeth as much as she could. Think. He was injured, even if he was ignoring it. A weakness, something to be exploited, something to go after. She reached out with her free hand and dug her claws into the bandaged area. She would have apologized if she thought he could hear her. But the man that she’d met was gone. Whoever was in his place was more predator than person.

Dave snarled and bellowed in large bubbles that were impossible to hear, seething red with rage. If before he only wanted to eat her, now his thoughts were to rip her stomach out and make her watch as her intestines got tangled in the weeds and the fish. Let her suffer so she could taste all the more tender. Slime started spilling from his skin in hopes of making her let go, but instead of pulling away he barrelled into her again, his skull aimed right at her belly, dragging her down more deeply into the depths of the pond where the silt and algae filtered out too much of the natural light, until he could knock her into the bottom, and loosened her grip He twisted around her, pushing her face towards the murky pond bottom. Silt clouded the thick water as he got one arm around her chest, then the other. She’d drown faster if he squeezed the air out of her, like syrup out of a candy gusher.

Silt being filtered through gills was probably the same as getting dust up one’s nose, and Mina choked a bit as she breathed through it. She couldn’t see, could only feel as she was knocked about and grabbed, arms tightening around her chest enough to bruise, to break bones. Her face was being pushed into the lakebed. There was nowhere further down for her to go. She knew that she could kick off the bottom, attempt to push herself up, but Dave was stronger than her. Brute force wasn’t her strong suit to begin with. She reached back, lashing out with her claws in hopes of finding purchase against his flesh. His skin felt slick, covered in some sort of mucus. Selkie secreted mucus, she remembered. What else did she remember? Their skins were important. That didn’t matter here. What mattered was living. She could kill him. She just needed to figure out how to-- No, no killing. She didn’t want to kill him. She just needed to find a way to get free. She curled in on herself and dug her claws into the arms around her chest. Let go, she wanted to scream.

Dave pushed her harder into the lakebed as he jerked away from her claws, more red bleeding profusely from his arms where she’d grabbed her. The pain was a sideshow to the main meal, the unshakable desire to eat, flooding all of his senses. Even with the silt, he could feel her coughing and moving, knew just where she was. Prey, if he could stand the effort. Most of his meals didn’t fight back like that. Most of his meals weren’t… sentient. The thought made him pause. With no air to breath, he couldn’t smell her. It was just Mina, and him staring at her with his jaw open and uncertain.

There was an increase in pressure, an increase in pain as Mina felt bones crack with every push further into the sand and silt. There was nowhere else for her to go. She was lucky that she could breathe, that the gills on the side of her neck still managed to filter in oxygen through the water and debris. She managed to turn her head a bit, managing to lock eyes with Dave. He still mostly looked like Dave. He didn’t seem as angry, as focused. He seemed confused. He could join her in that state; she was quite confused as well, and in pain, and trying very hard not to cry from a combination of both of these things. She needed to use this opportunity to push him away, to make sure that he couldn’t attack her or anyone else ever again, but she had a hard time separating the man in front of her from the man that had been so kind and concerned about her, especially during the Sandman and Bloody Mary incident. She didn’t want to hurt him, not really. So, she stared back at him, her heart pounding in her throat. Mina was afraid of what would come next.

Bile rose in the back of Dave’s throat. Her wide eyes cut right through him, shame flooding his lungs. She hadn’t drowned, but only because she couldn’t. Dave could feel the tiny ripples of water pumped through her gills now he was paying attention. There was a monstrous desire under the shame, only temporarily quieted by his shame and horror. It still hungered for her flesh. Dave didn’t dare open his mouth to apologise or raise his hands to sign, for fear he might bite her or grab her instead. His teeth grit, Dave looked away from her, twisted in the water, and sped away.

It didn’t make any sense. He’d gotten caught in the heat of the hunt, mistaken a girl for a grindylow, driven worse but whatever this stomach bug. It had just been a mistake. That was almost impossible to believe about himself. The alternate was even further beyond belief. He just needed to eat. That would fix everything.

It needed to.

Still on the lake floor, Mina sat up, uncurling herself as Dave left her there. She brushed the rocks that had embedded themselves into her face away and watched as small wisps of her own blood floated around her. She hurt. Some of her ribs were definitely broken. She was just lucky that he’d never taken a bite out of her. She had no doubt that she’d be missing a limb or two if he had. What was wrong with him? Something was wrong with him, but she didn’t know what, and she was officially too scared to ask. But Mina was also afraid as to where he went, worried that now that he wasn’t focused on her that he’d turn his attentions elsewhere. She began to make her way to the surface, to the shore, but ended up groaning as she tried to walk out of the lake. Everything hurt. She wasn’t going to be able to go after him. She didn’t even know where he went. Moving to lay in the shallows as she caught her breath, Mina could only hope that Dave hadn’t gone after anyone else.

#para #chatzy #wickedswriting #mina #:----)

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littleoneusa · 2 years

Text

Skills of girl wholesale boutique clothing

1. Choose a good direction

2. Children's clothing positioning

3. Children's clothing purchase

4. Strictly prevent being deceived

5.girl's clothing placement

6. Price adjustment

I decide how much to sell and how to sell. Grasp the market situation at any time, and if you find the price adjustment of wholesalers, you should also adjust your price immediately.

7. Promotional flow

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too-many-baes · 4 years

Text

Cito Books

Pairing: Fem!reader x Peter Maximoff

Warning(s): N/A

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: AU where a bookstore owner is enchanted with a man who regularly frequents her shop. She guesses he’s taken as he brings in two kids constantly but litle does she know that he is pining after her just the same - requested by the ever lovely @steve-chandler

A/N: Wow, what’s this? Another long overdue request? It couldn’t be, but it is!! I’m so sorry about that wait, but if you haven’t already completely lost interest in wee Peter here you go. (p.s your other one is still in the works) xx

I hope you all enjoy!

A bell’s chime fills the small room you occupy, your favourite sound of the day. Shortly after the initial sound, two sets of small but loud footsteps thump out as they race across the dark ochre floorboards of your shop.

“Girls, calm down!” Your smile only grows as the voice you had been anticipating follows the girls. You giggle lightly to yourself, propping your upper body up on your elbows to peer out your office window. Standing directly in your line of sight was your favourite customer, despite the fact he was one of your more recent regulars. A smile stretches across his face as he watches them run down into the children’s section, reaching up and mussing the shaggy silver mop that sat atop his head. You let your eyes linger on the movement, watching the sun filtering in from the long front window and glistening in his locks.

You realise that you’d let your eyes rest on him too long, as he turned around at the feeling of being watched to see your eyes on him. The longing of your stare was obviously lost on him as his smile remained and he lifted his hand in a cheery wave. Your cheeks instantly flush as you extend a much smaller wave than his own before putting your attention back down to your inventory logs where it should have been all along. Best not to dream about things you can’t have.

You loved your wee office. It was situated directly behind your counter by the front door, which meant with its window, it allowed you to simultaneously work and keep an eye on your shop, Cito Books, all at once. The room had a door, but you opted to never shut it, instead a wedge kept it permanently open to allow you to hear customers calling out to you. Today was no exception.

“Y/N!” The younger of the twos voice rang out from the back corner clear as day. You promptly leave your chair and make the short journey to where all three patrons now sat on the matt in the children’s nook.

“Yes Lorna?” You ask, your eyes occasionally flicking towards the silver haired man who had an easy smile resting on his lips. You can’t help but let your eyes briefly look at his hand splayed out on the rug. No wedding ring still.

“Do you have the next Rainbow Magic book?”

“Well what one are you up to?”

“Izzy the Indigo Fairy!” She exclaims excitedly, her sister still intently staring at the shelves in search of the book her sister so desperately wanted.

“I think we just got it in actually, give me one second,” you say, even though you know full well it had come in with your most recent stock. You fetch it from one of several boxes in your office before nonchalantly presenting it to the ecstatic girl.

“Wait, I thought you didn’t have this one last week?” The still seated man asks with a quirked eyebrow.

“Well Mr- ” You go to answer him before you are interrupted as he stands and speaks.

“How many times do I gotta tell you? It’s Peter.” The smile he gives you as he absent-mindedly swipes his hands on his jeans makes your cheeks flush again. You hated that you loved the impact he had on you. You wordlessly asked Lorna with a gesture if you could take the book back. She passes it to you and you lead the three to the counter to process the purchase, replying as you do.

“Well Peter we actually just happened to get it in so…” You let your feeble reply fade off as you ring up the book and place it into one of your paper bags, refusing to meet the eyes you knew were on you.

“If I didn’t know any better Y/N I’d say that you got it in especially for us.” Just as you suspected, when you dared to briefly meet his gaze he had a cheeky smirk on his lips and mischief in his eyes. You involuntarily gulp before passing the book to eager outstretched hands.

“That’ll be $14.99.” You fail to find anything to say that would dispel his absolutely correct assumption. He shakes his head slightly at his verbal victory before pulling out his wallet and handing you a twenty dollar note, telling you to keep the change. You immediately protest this, as he supports your little store plenty without needing to not take his change but he was having none of it, firmly placing his wallet back in his pocket where his hand remained. You give him what was supposed to be a disapproving look as you put the money into the till with a ‘thank you’, him merely giving a jovial shrug of the shoulders in return.

“Isn’t that the last one in the series?” The other little girl, Wanda, finally pipes up. You reply with a smile.

“It is actually, but don’t worry there’s a whole other series that comes right after.”

“Do you have it?” Lorna asks, quick as a snap.

“No not just at the moment.” You reply with a slight frown. Peter places a hand on both the girls’ shoulders, gently starting to lead them out the door.

“Don’t worry though, if we’re really lucky it might just be here next week,” he says with that signature cheeky smirk and a wink. Even though he had assumed correctly, you weren’t about to admit he’d been right. “We’ll see you next week Y/N,” he yells over his shoulder, turning his head once they are out of the shop to wave at you through the window as they leave your sight down the street.

“See you next week,” you say with a smile to an empty shop. You rest your head on your hands as you stare at the space that they once occupied. The family had probably only been coming in for a month, yet you could confidently say they were your favourite customers. There’s just something about him that never failed to put a smile on your face, even from the first moment you saw him.

You shrug yourself out of your thoughts, settling on sorting your new stock. Even if he wasn’t married, which he still could be for all you knew, he had two kids. There was more than likely someone in the picture, so you needed to rid your thoughts of the cheeky silver haired man. Even if you didn’t want to.

Over the next few months you saw Peter more often alone than with the girls. He had taken to coming in sometimes as often as twice a week, just browsing rack after rack that hadn’t changed since the last time he was in. Some days you’d engage in idle conversation, some days you were too busy with customers to chat with him, but that would not deter him in visiting. You thought occasionally that he was looking your way, yet every time you turned to face him his eyes were firmly on the shelves. Just wishful thinking you supposed.

You had felt a lot of strange gusts of wind in the shop recently, and you had no idea where they were coming from. Sometimes pages in books would rustle when nothing had happened, and gusts of air had taken to flying past your face, catching loose strands of hair in its motion. You had investigated your store thoroughly and came up flat, no holes or crevices that so much draft could be coming through. The events puzzled you when it happened, but for the most part you left it be. If only you knew the source.

You see, Peter was taken with you. From the first moment he had stepped foot in your store and was greeted by your smiling mouth that bid him welcome he’d been under your spell. He usually took the girls to a different book store but as soon as he had found out you owned the quaint bookshop, he had yet to take his business anywhere else.

He wanted to see more of you, he couldn’t help himself. He found himself through that front door more often than he’d like to admit. He’d walked the shelves so many times that you’d probably never have to do another stock take again, he could just recite your inventory to you.

He couldn’t help but watch you. How you gleamed when recommending books to customers. How you chirped up when your doorbell chimed. How you tidied your shelves and store daily, making sure your shop was always pristine. The pride you took in your work was evident, and Peter loved your passion, sometimes whizzing by in super speed just to see the glint in your eyes for a fraction longer. He was lost in thought when a voice rang out.

“Something I can help with?” He jolted slightly, dropping a book out of his hands in shock. Somehow he had been so lost in thought that he hadn’t even noticed you approaching, and didn’t manage to catch the book before it hit the ground.

“I’m so sorry,” you say with a joking lilt to your voice as you retrieve the fallen book and place it back on the shelf, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He lets out a breathy laugh, scratching the back of his neck out of embarrassment.

“You must be too quick for me.” You laugh at his joke, despite not knowing it was much more for himself than for you.

“So, anything in particular you were looking at Mr- ,” the quirk in his eyebrow stops your sentence dead in its tracks, “Peter.” A smile springs to his lips at his name leaving your lips.

“No you’re okay,” his eyes involuntarily flick between your rose tinted lips and your eyes before looking back at the shelf, the motion making a shiver dance down your spine, “I was just browsing.” You nod at him, not wanting to call out the fact that he’s browsed everything there is to be browsed, because frankly you didn’t mind his constant company.

“Well, I’ll be just over in the kids’ corner,” you motion to the brightly coloured area, “let me know if there’s any other books your daughters might want.” You smile at him intending to make your way there but the puzzled look on his face stops you in your tracks, your expression mirroring his. “Did I say something?” You question quietly.

“Daughters?” He says incredulously, you simply nod your head. “Y/N, Lorna and Wanda are my half-sisters, I just look after them when I can.” Your eyebrows furrow before they raise in surprise.

“Oh!” You exclaim, nodding your head at the new revelation and what that might mean. “Well, that’s great!” Shaking your head you go to the kids’ corner to sit on the matt and tidy the shelf, cheeks flushed with your last statement.

“Yea it’s pretty great,” Peter says following you, sitting in the much too small pink chair directly behind you, “they’re great girls.” You hum in acknowledgement, smiling over your shoulder to show your agreeance. You were dying to ask him if he was single but didn’t know how to approach the topic.

“So you’ve got no kids of your own then?” You ask instead, trying to make yourself seem busy enough to offset how much you wanted to know his answer.

“No.” He replies simply, making you think he was not going to divulge any more. “No partner to have kids with either, so none for a while.” You can’t help the giddy sensation that fills your chest. He was single. You felt like you had to act upon this new found information but once again the silvery man had you at a loss.

“So you’re single?” You pluck up the courage to ask, standing from your spot and walking to your counter, avoiding eye contact as you do so. Peter follows and leans on the opposite side of the counter to you, keeping his eyes on your face.

“Free as a bird.” You grin at him, finally having the courage to meet his expectant gaze. Something in them said that you weren’t alone in your feelings, that maybe you made him feel the same as he did you. You can do this. Just ask him.

“How free are you at 5:30 tonight?” Your sentence that you hoped would come out smooth and collected came out rushed and jumbled, making him let a soft breath out.

“Free enough that I could get dinner. If I had someone to go with.”

“I could do dinner.” You can feel the giddiness radiating on your face leaching into your voice, completely nullifying the indefinite you spoke in.

“Alright, 5:30 then. It’s a date.” With that, he reaches over and gives your nearest hand a gentle squeeze before parting with a wink and the dinging of the bell.

You let out a contented sigh, finally allowing yourself to not feel guilty about your pining, knowing clearly he was feeling the same. No more staring and imagining, you had a date with him. Tonight.

And you couldn’t wait for 5:30 to tick around.

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff fanfiction #peter maximoff reader insert #peter maximoff imagine #peter maximoff fanfic #x men #x men fanfiction #x men reader insert #x men imagine #x men fanfic #writing #mine #too many baes

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notgonnarememberthis · 3 years

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Through the Valley - Chapter 6

Told you this would come soon!! This was one of the very first chapters I wrote for this fic so I've been SOOOOO eager to share this one with y'all as it was one of the original 3 chapters written before any of the rest was. Hope y'all like!! Big shoutout to Em ofc who helped set the tone for this the way I’d imagined it to be.

Jessica places her head against the wheel, trying to control her breathing. Three days. That’s how long Ainsley’s been missing. Major Crimes didn’t have answers, not ones they needed. More information about Piers came to light, missing hospital workers turned up dead. Anyone who knew about him, all in a grave.

She shudders remembering Gil’s touch as he told her.

Malcolm was a mess. The longer without news, the more he unravels.

He might get that from her.

She’s already torn off several people's heads. Gil was a rather unfortunate recipient of one of the worse ones. He, thankfully, understood. Only gathering her in his arms until she stopped fighting him. Held her until she stopped crying.

Three days.

It took one contact, a moment where all her will had snapped. She called in a favor she never wanted to. There was a doctor, a woman, who had lost her job back when Martin worked at the hospital. It’d been unfair, she’d almost been buried by a man who she pissed off. Then every mistake she made became scrutinized. A breath away from ruin.

Martin begged her to help. That was the first time Martin had asked her for anything.

It’d been too easy to find the trail of botched surgeries. The patients he paid off to keep quiet.

She rose again, but not without a track record of her own.

Jessica had kept an eye on her, after Martin. After the truth came out, she questioned everything. Who had this woman truly been?

She stayed away, until now. The woman had worked with Piers previously, years ago. It was the only option she could think of that hadn’t already been exhausted.

She supposes that’s how she ended up parked in front of a warehouse at two in the morning. It’d been under the name of a patient he’d lost. A death that he took hard, one that changed him. The plot had been abandoned for a decade. No reason for an armed man to be standing outside guarding an empty metal husk.

She has no idea what she’s going to find inside. It could be hundreds of men, drugs that she didn’t even know existed. Ainsley might not even be here.

It’d been three days. What other choice did she have?

Jessica pulls the hood of her jacket over her head, glancing down at the mask resting in her lap. It was cliche and ridiculous. Yet she didn’t plan on killing anyone. She just wants to get Ainsley out safely. She swallows, sliding it over her face as she takes a slow breath. Triple checking that the gun is loaded before she slides out the door.

The man at the front is easy enough to distract, with a rock bouncing off the metal walls he steps away to investigate. It gives her enough time to slip in unnoticed.

The place is much more elaborate on the inside, large machines long collecting dust. She sticks to the open pathways, forgoing the doors that are shut with nobody around. She sneaks around the roaming men easily enough. There weren’t many, but there were enough that she was certain that this was the place that she was looking for.

She stops when she sees two men standing by a door. They’re talking, casually, as if this were just any given day to them. She’s so focused on watching them, listening to what they’re saying, that she doesn’t notice the glass beneath her feet until it makes the deathly crunch beneath her weight.

“Did you hear that?” Her heart jumps, fingers wrapped around her gun as she takes a more cautious step forward, away from the pile of glass. She can hear the man as he approaches, only one. She waits until he rounds the corner, just passing her to look where she’d previously been standing.

Taking the opportunity she wraps her arm around his neck from behind, kicking his knee out so that his weight is the main source of his struggle. His fingers scramble for purchase against her but she doesn’t relent. Only when his weight slumps does she let go, watching as he falls to the ground.

“Hey!” She whips around, eyes wide as she meets the gaze of the other man. The blast echoes in her ears as the man stumbles back. She’d been quicker on the shot. He falls against the wall and she feels a small ache in her chest.

She snuffs it quickly remembering what she’s here for.

She has to find her.

No matter what.

Jessica forces herself to move, eyes now trained on the door the two men were guarding. It has to be something. God, she can feel the weight of the world as she swings the door open.

Ainsley’s tied to a chair, head dropped low and blood staining her normally perfectly tamed locks. Jessica bites her cheek to keep the noise from escaping her chest. She’s here. Her baby is here. When she watches her shoulders rise and Jessica feels her throat tense. Tears of relief build, threatening to spill over. She clenches her teeth forcing them back as she takes in the sight. Her wrists and ankles are bound to the chair keeping her steadily in place. She’d been here all along. She should have called in that favor three days ago.

There’s no time for how she feels. She needs to move quickly and get her out. She checks the hallway before sliding the gun into the holster on her hip. She pulls the switchblade from her pocket, kneeling to cut her wrists free. She’s careful when sliding the blade beneath the binding, aware of how easily she could knick Ainsley if she doesn’t work slow.

Yet she can hear voices over the walkies, calls for a response that won’t come.

Her heart stops when she hears a small hum. It takes Jessica a moment to register that it’s coming from her daughter. She only has a second to pull the blade out before she starts thrashing, recognizing that someone is in front of her and fighting like hell to get away.

“Ainsley, stop.” She tries to command, hoping her voice would be enough to calm the girl but her panic is too deep. She’s tied down, in pain, in an unfamiliar place with some person holding a knife in front of her. She whips off the mask before she can start screaming. “Ainsley, baby, open your eyes.” She shakes her head stubbornly, blonde curls flying with the movement. “Sweetheart, it’s me. It’s mom.” Finally her eyes snap open.

Jessica’s stomach bottoms out when she gets a full look at her face. The blood she saw in her hair streamed down the side of her face, tracing her jaw with a line of crimson. Her eye is bruised and swollen, cuts adorn her cheeks as if someone had hit her with a ring on. Her blood boils at the sight, her vision momentarily going red before remembering to relax. “Mom?”

“It’s ok. You’re safe. We’re going to get you out of here.”

“What are you doing here?” Jessica tilts her head because it’s a long story. Far too long for the time they have. She feels her hands shake as she traces her hands over Ainsley’s shoulder and a wince crosses her face.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Ainsley takes a shaky breath, tears spilling down her cheeks. Her breath catches. What did they do to her? Did she think she was going to- “It’s ok. I got you.” She can hear the voices getting closer. There’s no time. She can’t get her out. “Stay here.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll be back. I promise.” She tries to offer a reassuring smile but she doubts it’s effective when she can feel her hands shake with anger as she pulls the mask back over her face. With every step she can feel her body burn. With hatred, with fury, with desperation. She needs to find Wesley Piers, he needs to pay for everything he’s done.

For what he did to her.

She doesn’t see the movement until it’s too late. A man tucked in a corner, eyes horrifically locked on his dead colleagues until she stepped out. The knife clutched in his hands slashes her in the side forcing a gasp from her lungs as the pain echoes through her. She moves instinctively, firing two shots and the man drops.

She winces when her hand touches where the knife dug in, her fingers coming away stained with her own blood. She bunches the jacket she wears as best as she can, pressing the fabric to the wound no matter how much the pain aches to rip a scream from her throat.

She has to keep going. If she leaves he won’t stop. He’ll come after Ainsley again, maybe Malcolm too if he figures out that major crimes are searching for him. He could come after her family again.

Two more men come running. They’re both dead before they can take three steps in the same corridor as her. She rounds the corner and this time she sees the person hiding. He springs out, ready to attack. She uses his momentum against him to throw him against the wall with a metallic clang. When he crumples and doesn’t get back up, she continues moving.

The halls are quiet now, no voices over static. No clambering footsteps or clicking of guns. She stops, only for a second, when another jumps from the shadows pushing her gun away from him before it fires into the floor. She fights against him as he shoves her against the wall. Both his hands focused on keeping the gun pointed as far from him as possible. Using that as a distraction, she rears back slamming her head into his nose. He stumbles and falls so now she can get a good look at him.

The man doesn’t belong here, in a well pressed suit and tie. The others were in dark clothes, blending in. Not raising suspicion. He looks wrong, trembling as he holds his bleeding nose. He’s not a threat, far from one. “What do you want?” The man asks, shuffling back.

She recognizes him from the hundreds of pictures posted across New York. Always smiling with a slimy grin. This is the man she was searching for. Wesley Piers. He’s the one that hurt Ainsley.

Venom fills her mouth as she raises her gun. “I’ll give you anything you want. You want money?” The question forces a bitter laugh from her. As if money could pay back all he’s done, the lives he’s taken, the life he could have taken. “Please.”

“Shut up!” She shouts and his jaw snaps shut. She breathes slowly, watching him as tears stream down his face. Yet all she can see is Ainsley, fearfully thrashing against her own mother’s grip.

What did they do to her?

“You’re hurt. I can get you the best doctors in New York.”

“I said shut up!”

“Power?” She scoffs. “You’re doing this for a reason. There has to-” She swings the gun knocking him unconscious with a single blow. In the silence she can finally think.

The world would be much better off with this man dead. He can’t hurt anyone else. No possibility of using his endless amount of money to get him out early, to sway a jury, to keep him comfortable and happy when he should be rotting in a cell.

He could run.

Just like Martin.

“We are the same.”

She hears his words with such clarity that she almost turns her head to look for him. He’s long gone, probably off somewhere on an island. Not in this damp warehouse. Not standing over a body next to her. Yet she can still hear him, coaxing her to pull the trigger. She lowers the gun, tears of frustration building behind her eyes.

She wants him to suffer for what he did. To Ainsley, to all the innocent people that he stole money or even their lives. Her vision swims when she steps back, the cool metal of the wall feels good through the thick layers. Her eyes fall to her hand, the jacket has soaked through, spilling into her palm again. The man is a crumpled heap. Uselessly breathing the same stale air. She should just end the sound. For some peace of mind. Yet she knows. It will bring no peace. His face will join the others in her nightmares. His name will join the ones on her lips that she chases away, drink after drink. In search of an oblivion that is just out of her reach. The oblivion that feels oddly close now. She tips her head back against the wall, tears sliding down her face.

She can’t do it.

She can’t kill him.

This man is far from Nicolas Endicott, who’s presence threatened her family long after he was dead. Not even a Robert Van de Camp who brought a gun into her home with intentions of murdering both her and Cricket.

He’s not a threat.

She’ll call it in, an anonymous tip that she heard screaming. There’s more than enough evidence here to convict Piers of his crimes. Malcolm will come, he’ll arrest him. She can make sure that he never sees the sun again. This can end, without any more death.

She’s ready to push herself off the wall, grab Ainsley and run when another voice echoes out.

She hadn’t even heard the footsteps.

“Jess, put the gun down.”

#prodigal son #gilica #gil arroyo x jessica whitly #jessica whitly x gil arroyo #jessica whitly #ainsley whitly #gil arroyo #murder family #murder family AU #fanfic #through the valley #through the valley chapter 6 #through the valley chapter six #notgonnarememberthis fics

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surly01 · 3 years

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This Week in Collapse April 11, 2021

"Give me bacon, or give me death!" ~Shaneka Torres, February 9, 2014

If you believe, as we do, that environmental and social collapse is already well underway, the news of the week provided a cornucopia of data points in confirmation. Next week will mark the sixth anniversary of the conviction and sentencing of Shaneka Torres for storming a Michigan McDonald's upon discovering her baconless burger. The frustration Torres felt is now mirrored in all of us as we consume each day's headlines in similar frustration.

But hostility, like violence, is as American as cherry pie. Did you know that members of the starving Donner party were offered assistance by local natives, only to be shot at for their troubles?

Washoe scouts brought the stranded migrants food — including a deer carcass, fish, and wild potatoes — but were met with hostility. On one occasion, an offering of fish was refused. On at least three others, the Washoe approached the Donner camps with food only to be met by gunshots, leaving one man dead…

When a scout saw the white people cannibalizing their dead, the tribe was said to retreat, afraid they too might be killed and eaten. From then on, the Washoe referred to the migrants as “not people.”

Today this hostility toward others, even those trying to help you, pervades most of American society. Many look back upon their high school years as an American version of "Lord of the Flies." Similar put-downs, one-upsmanship, and attack behavior can also be seen in our popular entertainments. This framing our headlong retreat from the natural world and from one another as we immerse ourselves in our phones. To say nothing of our political divisions, best characterized by objectification (of the other, making them “not people”) and derision, and where any attempt to find common ground is met by the back of the hand of friendship. Little wonder that the rising generations find our current set of arrangements hopeless.

But this week's headlines suggest that for a variety of reasons, that set of arrangements won't last indefinitely.

Who could forget the recent Suez Canal flap with the large container ship stuck like a throat lozenge? Not Egypt, who has said to Ever Given’s Owners: Pay Us $1 Billion Or You Aren't Getting Your Big Boat Back. If you thought the Egyptian government would be thrilled to see it go, think again. Nice boat you have here… be a shame if anything happened to it…

“The vessel will remain here until investigations are complete and compensation is paid,” Osama Rabie, chairman of the Suez Canal Authority, told state television in Egypt on Thursday.

“We hope for a speedy agreement,” he said. “The minute they agree to compensation, the vessel will be allowed to move.”

A country filled with people traumatized by the Great Toilet Paper Shortage of 2020 paid full attention to the threat of supply chain collapse. Why you should expect more Suez-like supply chain disruptions and shortages at your local grocery store In one short week, the price of oil went up, and companies fretted as hundreds of ships carrying everything from coffee and cattle to toys and furniture were delayed. Just-in-time delivery means low to nonexistent inventories. Experts estimated that every hour traffic remained stuck cost the global economy over US$400 million in lost trade.

The pandemic revealed that even simple supply chains, such as that of toilet paper and hand sanitizer, can easily break in the face of disruptions. The same was true with food, personal protective equipment, pharmaceuticals and ordinary household items, which all suffered from severe shortages that lasted for months into the pandemic.

Pandemic-strained supply chains are now creating a global shortage of semiconductors, a component used in a wide variety of consumer goods, from Samsung smartphones and Apple laptops to Ford Explorers and Sony PlayStations. Virtually every piece of electronics needs a chip, and the supply chain is much more complex than for toilet paper.

All coming to a supply-chain chokepoint near you. Read more in The Conversation.

The weekly economic news is not good, but economic news is never good. How does a country deal with climate disasters when it’s drowning in debt? Not very well, it turns out. Especially not when a global pandemic clobbers its economy.

Today, the debt that Belize owes its foreign creditors is equal to 85 percent of its entire national economy. The private credit ratings agency Standard & Poor’s has downgraded its creditworthiness, making it tougher to get loans on the private market. The International Monetary Fund calls its debt levels “unsustainable.” Many other smaller countries are in a similar bind. It's a house of cards.

Government Admits Zimbabwe Dollar Collapse, Pegs Passport Fees In US$. Information Minister Monica Mutsvangwa said the senior government officials had acknowledged Zimbabwean currency was no longer a viable option for offshore purchases. That's weaselspeak for “our money is officially toilet paper.”

“Foreign currency is required for the off-shore procurement of consumables. However, the current fees payable in the local currency are no longer viable…”

And that is just one domino. Africa offers others.

Collapse often follows insurgencies. Hunger spreads as Mozambique crisis reaches tipping point.

Insurgents from a group known as Al Shebab attacked Palma, a town in Mozambique’s far northern Cabo Delgado province. They launched an attack on the coastal town, firing indiscriminately, setting fire to buildings and killing dozens, according to local officials. Residents there did what people do: scattering in a desperate attempt to reach safety by whatever means possible: on foot, by road and boat fleeing with the clothes they were wearing and a few things for their children. To hide in the bush for the smoke to clear.

Townspeople joined thousands of others sheltering in displacement camps with limited food supplies across Cabo Delgado.

Much of the strife in the Global South stems from the stresses unleashed by climate change. The climate news this week was as ugly as the economic news.

Despite pandemic shutdowns, carbon dioxide and methane surged in 2020

NOAA announced last week that levels of the two most important anthropogenic greenhouse gases, carbon dioxide and methane, continued their unrelenting rise in 2020 despite the Covid-driven economic slowdown. Carbon dioxide levels are now higher than at anytime in the past 3.6 million years. The last time atmospheric CO2 was this high, sea level was about 78 feet higher than today, the average temperature was 7 degrees F higher than in pre-industrial times, and forests occupied areas of the Arctic that are now tundra.

Methane Has Never Risen This Fast in the Atmosphere

There’s more methane in the atmosphere than any other time since record keeping began. Levels really spiked last year, despite the fact that we were all inside for most of the time. Methane shattering records is one of those things that seems to happen every year. But what’s really troubling is that last year’s rise in methane levels was the biggest rise in a single year since record-keeping began. Methane is over 80 times more potent as a warming agent than carbon dioxide over a 20-year period.

Short takes and highlights from the week:

'A biological Fukushima': Brazil COVID-19 deaths on track to pass worst of U.S. wave

Brazil’s coronavirus death toll passes 4,000 a day for first time

Bolsonaro a 'Threat to the Planet,' Says Lula as Brazil's Daily Covid Death Toll Hits All-Time High

New 'Double Mutant' Coronavirus Variant Found In California

Americans' Worry About Catching COVID-19 Drops to Record Low

A record-low 35% of Americans worry about catching COVID-19. At the same time, 77% say the coronavirus situation is improving.

Ecocide: Should Destruction of the Planet Be a Crime?

Atmospheric CO2 Passes 420 PPM for First Time Ever

Scientists: Mass Extinction Is Coming as Organisms Flee the Equator-- Oceanic life is fleeing the increasingly-hot equator for more hospitable water, and a mass extinction event is likely to follow.

The Coming Antibiotic-Resistance Pandemic that Could Make COVID Look Like the Flu

America Never Wanted the Tired, Poor, Huddled Masses

Another Day, Another Far-Right Fantast: Texas Man Tried to Blow Up the Internet-- Federal Investigators allege that a Texas man wanted to use C-4 to blow up around 70% of the internet.

So it’s been a week of extortion for supply chain disruption, CO2 and methane-based catastrophe, immanent ecosystem collapse, unsustainable debt, and worthless currencies. Another week of downward spin as the American Empire unwinds along with late stage capitalism..

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