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chuckbass-love · 3 years

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20,39,42 with Andy Barber?

Hey, lovely anon. First of all i hope you’re doing well and second of all, i thoroughly enjoyed writing this and i hope y’all have a lot of fun reading it. It’s been a hot minute since i last wrote for Andy.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Andy Barber x Fem!Reader

Prompts Used:

20) “You’d better be quiet or everyone’s going to know what a naughty little slut you are”

39) “I’m so sick of your voice. Why don’t you come over here and put your mouth to better use?”

42) “I guess i’ll just get off all by myself”

Warnings: Smut. Sexual intercourse, vaginal sex, spanking, daddy kink, love making (kinda), arguing, swearing, angst and a sprinkle of fluff for good measure. That’s right, used all 3. 18+ you know the drill.

Word Count: 6,796

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @cassercole go check them out💕

Do You Feel What I Feel?

After a long and interesting weekend, you’re a lot less eager to get back behind your desk to work for Andy Barber than you usually are. One reason in particular being that you’ve been dating other people behind his back. See the thing with you and Andy is that you’ve known him for 2 whole years, worked for him for 1 year and been fucking him since the evening of your very first day. He got you the job to work with him after you got laid off.

You met him after he showed up for one of your seminars at college and he gave a presentation on what it’s like to be a lawyer and you just clicked. But it was strictly platonic...until you showed up on that first day dressed in a knee length skirt, a semi sheer polka dot blouse with stockings and heels. He was shocked to say the least. You looked entirely different and he’d never seen you this way before. It turned him on and he let you know it.

As you were packing your things away and bidding him goodbye for the day, he called you back into his office and instructed you to lock the door behind you before he began to inform you of the effect you had on him. Starting slowly by telling you how he was taken aback by your ability to think on your feet, use your initiative and then just like that, it all came out and he couldn’t control his hunger much longer.

He kissed you so hard that night that the breath was knocked from your lungs but you loved it, you yearned for more of that feeling and he fucked you so good that you made it a regular thing, without even realising it was becoming one until it was too late. You’d just show up at each others places without a warning and before you knew it, he was fucking you into the mattress and making you cum with a cry of his name.

Now back to the present... you like Andy, in fact if you’re being truthful with yourself, you’ve fallen so madly in love with him that you know it’s time to quit him. He’s like a drug, an addiction and you need to stop going back for more. Hence why you decided that enough was enough.

You met a guy online, his name is Ashley and he was more than keen to take you out so you happily obliged and sure you had a nice time but there’s just one issue lying in your way. Andy is unsuspecting of your little date and it’s been eating away at you since said date walked you back to your apartment. You know that you need to tell him but you fear that it’ll cost you your job, he did hire you to help you out after all.

Before you can wallow more in your choice to keep things from him, he calls you into his office and you haven’t even gotten any work done yet, you only sat down 5 minutes ago.

What could he possibly want so early on?

“Yes, Mr Barber?” you ask flirtatiously, making him glare up at you before gesturing for you to take a seat opposite him. Which you do.

“So today i’m gonna need you to file this paper work into the data base for me” he starts, lifting up a pile taller than the length of your forearm and now you’re annoyed for real this time. He knows full well that you’re still finishing off the stack from Friday and yet here he is presenting more work for you to do “get it done by the end of the day” he finishes, flashing you another stone cold glare as he looks back down at the paper on his desk, not even bothering to acknowledge your presence for a second longer.

Until you speak up “Andy, you know i’m still finishing off Frid....”

“That’s Mr Barber to you and you can leave now” his rude and snappy interruption makes you scoff as you shake your head at the tone in his voice, he’s not in any mood today to help you out or make exceptions. So you do as you’re told, hauling the heavy pile into your arms and lugging it back to your desk outside. Once it’s on your desk, you walk back to shut his door before he asks, making sure to slam it harder than needed to make it known that you’re angry with him.

He doesn’t seem to notice or care though.

Now to get started on all of this work that’ll probably mean you staying later tonight, just brilliant. Guess your second date with Ashley will have to be rescheduled.

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

You finish off half of the pile by the time it gets to 1:30pm and you’re due a lunch break round about now so seeing as though Andy hasn’t left his office all day, you decide to pop out for some food with one of the other assistants, Stacey. Thank God you don’t have to face him since you have absolutely no clue what could have possibly rattled his cage this morning to make him snap at you like that. The two of you have always had this ongoing joke of you calling him Mr Barber and he usually allows you to call him by his first name until today when that alone was enough to anger him.

It’s obvious that you’ll have to put off telling him about your date until he’s in a better place to receive the news. You’re hoping that since he’s always been opposed to commitment that he’ll take it well but the halt in your fooling around might annoy him a little. It’s not your problem though, he always knew you were planning to eventually settle down.

Upon your return to your desk you find Andy sat in your chair, looking through your work “where the hell have you been?” he mutters as he avoids your eyes “you know what, don’t even bother making excuses, my office, NOW” you jump out of fear as he raises his voice slightly at you for the first time in the whole 2 years you’ve known him. Your anxious body shuffles into his office, scared of what’s about to happen.

“Was i not clear enough earlier Y/N? Hm? Because i specifically remember asking you to have this work done by the end of the day. You get off at half 4, it’s now half 2 and you’ve only done half. Do i pay you to galavant around town with Stacey or do i pay you to do your goddam job?”

In the 2 years that you’ve known Andy, he’s also never made you cry, yet here you are trying your absolute hardest not to let these tears fall in front of him.

“You pay me to do my job and i’ve tried my best to get it done. I-I’m sorry” you stand there awkwardly, picking at the torn skin around your fingernails as you stare hopelessly at your stilettos. “Well your best isn’t fucking good enough Y/N, try harder. You can stay here until all of the paperwork is done and that includes Friday’s load too now close the door on your way out”

Is he actually serious? He can’t be, surely. What is wrong with him?

“No” you stand tall, hands on your hips as you talk back and if he was angry before then now he’s livid with you “What do you mean no?” he questions, stepping towards you, hands in his pockets as he awaits your answer.

“I said, no. Just because you’re in a bad mood for whatever reason does NOT mean that you get to stand here and humiliate me. I said no and that’s final. I’ll do my best to get today’s work done before i leave but Friday’s work can wait and i don’t care what nasty comment you have in store to throw back at me”

His face screws up as he clenches his jaw again, you should feel really scared right about now, that comment might have just cost you this job but you don’t care. If that’s the case then you’ll walk out of here proud of yourself along with one less so called friend in your life.

“Bad mood? I’m furious and you don’t even know the half of it” he picks his phone up, tapping a couple times before handing it to you and walking back to his desk to sit down. You watch the clip in his camera roll, squinting as you try to make out the faces in it and then you realise that it’s you and Ashley. Fuck. He was there that night at your apartment, he was obviously coming to see you and you didn’t even know it. He must have seen you with another man and changed his mind. You feel awful as you look back at him, he just sighs once you place the phone onto his desk.

“Andy, i-i”

“Save it. If you wanted to cut our little deal off then you shoulda just said. I don’t appreciate being lied to Y/N and i don’t fancy talking about it with you for a minute longer so just do as your fucking told and get back to work”

All you can do is turn around and walk away since you’ve done enough damage already. But all you can think about is the look on his face after you watched the incriminating clip. He looked sad, broken even and it’s replaying in your brain over and over. Torturing you.

This is why he’s been so nasty today, so demanding and harsh. He’s hurt that you lied to him, hurt that you were with someone else, even if it was just dinner. You still arranged a date with another man and went and what Andy has never wanted to admit before, not even to himself is that he really likes you. In fact no, he’s fallen madly in love with you.

Every waking moment of his life is spent with you on his mind. You even corrupt his dream world too and it’s gotten out of control. Saturday he decided it was time to cut your little deal off and start over. He was going to do it right, confess his feelings, ask you on a date and then take you out and treat you like a princess.

Ever since he laid his blue eyes on you that first time when he was doing the presentation in your class at college, he liked you. You asked so many questions, engaged a lot in the debates and he knew then that you were going to play an important role in his life. And you have. You became close friends, going out regularly and doing things like bowling and eating dinner together more than a handful of times. He enjoyed your company and you enjoyed his but there was this unspoken rule that you had to remain just friends. He wasn’t ready for anything serious and you were still not over your ex.

But then when you walked through his office door on your first day dressed in that skirt, those heels and stockings and lets not forget about that blouse. He was trying his hardest not to drool. One things for sure though, he was painfully hard for you.

When he came to your apartment Saturday and saw you outside your door with some preppy douchebag who was around your age, he felt this lump in his throat form as his heart ached. Sure he expected you to get a man eventually after all you are 24 and he’s in his 30’s. But he didn’t expect it to happen so soon. He also didn’t expect you to have such an effect on him the way you have but here he is, angry at you for moving on without telling him and angry that you aren’t his anymore.

He feels bad for shouting at you today, for being so harsh with his words. He could see the tears pooling in your eyes right away but he was too pissed off to stop and now he’s almost certain that any friendship the two of you had is gone for good thanks to his vile actions.

Another 2 hours tick by and you’re still working at your pile, you’ve still got a lot left being that he’s included Friday’s in your load too. It’s going to be a long night so you pick your phone up and call Ashley.

“Ashley hey, it’s uh, it’s Y/N. Listen, i have to work late today so i won’t be able to make it” you announce and as he responds, Andy opens his door but you don’t notice.

“Rain check? Uh...” you trail off, trying your hardest to decide if you even want to see him again. It’s like you’re torn. On one hand you have Andy, your dream man. A man who knows your body like the back of his hands and a man who can more than likely take care of you if you just took a leap and told him about your feelings but then on the other hand you have Ashley. A guy who is your age and who makes you laugh a hell of a lot. Before you can even decide though, you hear a cough behind you. It’s Andy.

“Ashley can i call you back? It’s just now’s not really a good time, i have a lot of work to get done”

You hang up the phone as your eyes are locked onto Andy’s and the moment your phone is placed back onto your desk he wraps his large hand around your wrist, lifting you up off your chair and tugging you into his office. You watch as he locks the door behind him before going back to sitting behind his desk.

“You gonna see him again?” he asks, jaw clenched.

“I-I uh, i don’t know. I’m a little torn right now” your eyes settle on his plump pink lips, wanting nothing more than to bite down on his bottom one as you sink down onto his cock but you’re dirty thoughts come to a staggering halt as he speaks. “Torn with what? You like him right?” why is he asking you these things? Is he trying to torture himself with the details.

“Yes i mean no i mean I don’t know. I like him but i don’t think i can date him”

“How come?”

“Because i like someone else, in fact i love someone else”

Andy feels his heart sink further as more cracks appear threatening to shatter it completely. You love someone else and now he’s truly out of the game.

Rage works it’s way back into his body and he can’t help but take it out on you “did you sleep with him? Huh? Did the douche bag get to fuck that tight cunt of yours?”

At first you find him funny, laughing as you look around the room, anywhere but his eyes but then your own rage sets in.

“Not that it’s any of your business but no, he didn’t. We had dinner and that’s it” you state, matter of factly as you place your hands back onto your hips..

“Bullshit”

“Is that what you really think of me Andy? You think i’d just give it up to any guy that even looked my way. Wow, i knew you were a lot of things but vicious was definitely not one of them and what’s that i smell? Is it jealousy? Surely not.” you tut, shaking your head “I don’t think i even know you at all by the looks of things if you thought lying to me was better than being honest and trust me, i’m not jealous in the slightest, in fact i pity you. It’s your sex life that will suffer” he doesn’t falter for even a second as he stares you down and just as he anticipated, you’re the first one to break, looking away from him. You can’t help the way your heart starts to race from all of the fury filling up your body. How dare he.

“I was only keeping it from you until i found the right time to tell you. And don’t you dare think for one second that just because we’ve slept together that you have any right to comment on my sex life. You made it perfectly clear that monogamy wasn’t your thing so don’t be mad when i finally want to move on from being someone’s fuck buddy” you spit, heat rising to your cheeks as you realise what you just said. Fuck.

“I’ll comment on whatever i fucking want to so quit the bitching and yeah, i don’t do commitment but i sure as hell wouldn’t be with you even if i did”

You don’t respond to him this time, there’s no quick comeback to fire his way, no insult that could mean you having the upper hand again. Nothing is left but shock and disappointment. He really said that, he really played on your biggest insecurity. He played on it and used it to his advantage, to get the upper hand and win the argument.

“What? Got nothing to say?” he snorts, smug grin on his face. Watch his smile disappear now...

“I love you, Andy” you finally get the words out and you feel as if you’re going to choke on them and die right here in his office. Cause of death, unrequited love.

“W-what?” he’s practically speechless, his words barely audible.

“I’m so madly in love with you and i have been for a while now. But i continued to shut my feelings out and reject other guys because i came to the realisation that having you in any way that i could would be enough for me even if it meant that i couldn’t have you in the way that i’ve always wanted. But none of this matters now, right? Because you’ve made it pretty clear how you feel and where you stand. You wouldn’t date me even you did date and that’s fine but at least now both our cards are on the table”

He looks up at you, using his index finger to force you to look back at him and when you do, he looks so deep into your eyes almost as if he’s attempting to see into your soul. Like he’s trying to search for any signs of dishonesty.

“Why didn’t you just tell me? Instead of going out with other guys you shoulda told me and been honest about it?” is all he can say and that’s the last response you expected but what catches you off guard the most is how he said it, almost like he was hurt and relieved simultaneously.

“Andy, you’re my boss and you made it clear that you didn’t want a relationship” he has absolutely no right to lecture you about honesty when he’s spent the entire time he’s known you blabbering on about how the single life is better for him and how he’d hate to be tied down again. You roll your eyes as you move away from him when he attempts to move closer.

Silence falls upon the two of you and it seems never ending, leaving you no choice but to leave. The moment you turn around to walk away he’s on his feet too “where are you going?” the tone his voice makes it sound as though he’s pleading for you to stay without actually saying the words.

“I’m going back to my desk to do my fucking job, just like you told me to do earlier” you turn back around but just as you expected, he stops you “look. I’m sorry, okay. I was just mad that you”

“Mad about what? That i went out on a date? I’m a single woman Andy and despite our little deal, i don’t belong to you so you have no right to be mad at me for doing what any other single person does”

He bites down on his bottom lip as he runs his fingers through his perfectly styled locks, messing them up instantly “God, you’re so fucking infuriating”

“I’m infuriating? You really are clueless to your own behaviour aren’t you? I just told you that i love you and you still haven’t told me if you feel the same. So i think that says it all, don’t you?” you stop yourself before continuing your rant, trying your hardest to prevent something worse slipping out. Right now in your state, you’re bound to say things that you don’t mean and will later regret. “you know what, i think i’m gonna take the work load home and complete it there. I’ll see you tomorrow, if i still have a job that is” you raise your brows at him, praying he doesn’t fire you for your attitude alone. But to your surprise he doesn’t.

“You really think that low of me? That i’d ever fire you because of what’s going on between us outside of this office? Wow” he leans back on his desk and his shoulders drop as he slumps over, looking down at his large calloused hands.

“It’s what i assumed would happen. You’re really gonna pretend like you don’t want me gone after today?”

“I don’t, believe it or not. But i have no time to deal with this discussion any longer, i have to leave early today” he says as he goes back to sitting behind his desk again and turning his computer back on “i don’t expect you to stay any longer, you can take that work home and finish it after your date” he mutters the last few words, pulling a face as if they make him sick.

“Really? We’re back to that again. God i’ve had it with you” you spit, biting down on the inside of your cheek before strutting over to the door but his hand stops you before you even get yours on the lock.

“Let me go Andy. I don’t even want to look at you, let alone be stuck in a room with you” harsh, but in this moment it’s true. He’s done nothing but upset you all day long and even after your stupid decision to confess your love for him, he’s still doing it. You feel so defeated right now that you can’t take another second of his shit.

“Just one more thing and then you’re free to go and fuck whoever you want, whenever you want. How many guys have you been on dates with since we started hooking up?” the desperation is evident in his eyes as they pierce into yours, searching again but this time for the answers before you can even open your mouth to give them to him “one. It was only one date on Saturday night with Ashley” and that’s the truth. You would never repeatedly date behind his back, this was a one off. A one off you’re regretting more as the seconds tick by.

An awkward silence falls upon the two of you once more as he walks back over to his desk, pacing next to it and creating a draft. “Are you planning to see him again?” and he’s back with more questions. Why does he care so much?

He clearly doesn’t love you too otherwise he’d have said it once you confessed your feelings for him. Instead he left you looking like the biggest joke ever, the clown. And you feel so mortified for even believing he’d say it back.

Silly little Y/N, always catching feelings for men who don’t feel the same way back. You’re starting to feel as though you’ll never find someone.

But still his behaviour has you second guessing him. Maybe he does like you and that’s why he’s acting so hurt.

“Maybe i will, after all i am single. That shouldn’t be a problem, should it Andy?” you know full well that you’re pushing down hard on his buttons and you can see his cheeks turn red as his knuckles turn white from his tight grip on the side of the table.

“What you don’t like that? You don’t like the thought of me on top of Ashley, sinking down onto his cock as he touches my body and kis -”

Out of nowhere he interrupts you, slamming his fist down onto his desk “dammit, Y/N, what is it with you? Trying to make me jealous? Because i’ve had just about enough of you running your mouth” he pulls one of the chairs out, falling into it and spreading his legs “In fact. I’m so sick of your voice. Why don’t you come over here and put your mouth to better use? Huh? Maybe then you’ll shut up about that fucking douche bag” he is jealous, it’s so obvious to you now. He’s jealous of Ashley, jealous of the possibility of him spending time with you and he hates the thought of someone stealing you away from his tight grasp.

You can’t quite believe your ears or your eyes as he spreads his legs further, grazing his hand over the tent in his dress trousers and you can’t help the gulp that follows.

“Andy”

“Shhh, enough talking. I don’t have it in me anymore to argue with you, just come here” he insists but you stand your ground “no. i can’t keep going round and round in circles with you with absolutely no end in sight and with no hope for you to reciprocate how i feel. I’m sorry but i’m leaving”

Yet again, as expected, he clears his throat “fine. I guess i’ll just get off all by myself”

Like they always do around Andy, your legs turn to jelly and your eyes glaze over along with your better judgement being clouded by x rated thoughts of him railing you. The idea of him touching himself, working his hand expertly around his girthy cock causes arousal to flood your panties. How dare your body betray you like this. How dare your mind do the same. It’s not fair that every time you think you have the upper hand and the dominance, he comes along, snatching it away from you and proving you wrong.

You have absolutely no idea why you’re about to do what you’re about to do other than the fact that your body gravitates toward him like a magnet and it’s out of your control.

So without a second longer to fester or overthink, you spin around on your heels, charging towards him. Andy watches in awe as you drop to your knees and make quick work of his belt. Once you free his cock from the confines of his black Calvin Kleins and into your small hand you spot the droplets of precum oozing out of the slit on his red bulbous head. You look up at him through your eyelashes, batting them as you give the tip a couple of kitten licks before spitting all over his shaft and pumping him agonisingly slow.

“Fuck” he groans, rolling his eyes back as he grips the arm rests on the chair when you take him into your mouth “attagirl, sucking daddy’s cock like a fucking pro” his hands grip your face as he continues to watch you go to work, making a mess of yourself as you gag around him,

You don’t bother to issue a warning before taking all of him in your mouth, all the way down to his balls over and over. Making sure to hollow out your cheeks as you bob your head up and down, your tongue licking the underside of him as your hands grasp his balls. He starts bucking his hips up, attempting to fuck your mouth but you push him back down as a whole batch of unholy sounds that only you can elicit from him fall from his perfect lips, the sounds that are so loud and downright filthy that he has no option but to cover his mouth with his hand, biting down one of his thick digits to keep from exposing himself to his unsuspecting colleagues outside.

He soon pulls you off and you do so with a pop. He forces you to look up at him, his hand grabbing your cheeks and squeezing aggressively “no matter what undeserving boys you go out on a date with, no matter who flirts with you. You’re mine, always have been and always will be” he moves you to straddle his lap before he stands up to move the two of you to the couch.

“So no more dates princess, no more other guys. Because i’m the only one who gets to have you. Is that clear?” he cocks his brow up at you and you nod in response before mumbling a quick “yes” to satisfy his need for confirmation and assurance.

He lifts your knee length dress up to your stomach before he gets to touching you, squeezing at your ass cheeks a little too hard for your liking but you secretly love the way he gets so rough with your body, the way he smacks both ass cheeks repeatedly until you wince from how sore he’s made you.

“God, these clothes drive me crazy. Ever since that first day i met you, i’ve wanted you and when you started working here, i was so desperate to fuck you as you wore these stockings and these heels. You’re so fucking hot, princess and you have no idea how crazy you drive me when you bend over, shoving this ass in my face”

He starts to kiss your neck, sloppy open mouthed kisses on the spot that has your back arching as you grip onto the back of his neck to steady yourself. He’s working you up all the more, turning the pool in your panties into a river. You’re dripping wet for him, desperate for him to just fuck your greedy pussy, desperate to clench down around his cock as he pounds into you.

“You’ve done it before Andy. Many times in fact”

His kisses halt as he smirks at you, that devilish look in his eyes. It always drives you wild “do it again, please, i need it” you beg pathetically and much to your surprise, he does exactly that. He takes your panties, tugging them to the side and playing with your soaked core a little as well as touching your bundle of nerves. You whine into the crook of his neck as you urge him to hurry before he eventually pulls his pants further down his legs to position himself at your entrance better. You don’t even have time to breathe before he’s knocking the air from your lungs as he fucks himself to the hilt inside of you.

The way his pace continues to pick up until it’s rendering on animalistic is causing you to let out the loudest and sexiest sounds, it’s like music to his ears but he can’t have anyone hearing this. He flips the two of you over so that you’re below him, your legs pushed back to your head and you hold them in place. His hand covers your mouth as he slides himself back in, not making any effort to start slow “you’d better be quiet or everyone’s going to know what a naughty little slut you are” he continues with rough snaps of his hips as he fucks into you with reckless abandon and causing the sweet music you make to vibrate onto his hand.

“Yeah, like this? Like the way i fuck this pretty little cunt?”

Thrust

“Bet his cock couldn’t even touch what mine does to you, the way you cry out for more and scream my name every time. The way i can make you cum with just my words and my fingers. God, such a dirty little girl for me, ain’t that right, princess?”

Satisfied hums follow his questions along with a frantic nod as you feel the coil tightening in your stomach, like a knot twisting and pulling, you’re so unbelievably close that you can almost taste the impending orgasm. “Don’t make a fucking sound when i move my hand, okay?” again you nod in response and he moves his hand, smiling down at you with adoration in his eyes before moving his hand to your aching sex. His fingers pressing down onto your bundle of nerves, rubbing firm circles on it and as soon as your walls flutter around him, he knows your close.

“Gonna cum, huh? Gonna make a mess all over my cock? My filthy girl, go on baby, cream all over me”

Just like that, along with his permission you let everything go, allowing yourself to really feel the pleasure. Your walls flutter around him again and again and each time he pulls out of you he spots your juices as they cover his cock beautifully. The sight alone has his hips snapping harder, the sound of his skin slapping against yours bounces off of the walls in his office and you accidentally let out a lewd moan that he swallows with his kiss as you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer “cum for me daddy” your encouragement sends his entire world spinning as his thrusts stagger.

His cock jolts inside of you, twitching like crazy before his cream fills you up deliciously, painting your walls in thick ropes. You arch your back as your arms wrap around his neck. You need to feel his lips on yours.

He kisses you so hard that your teeth clash, making the two of you chuckle into each others mouths before attempting again. This time his tongue forces it’s way past your lips, battling with yours as he rides the two of you through your dramatic and intense highs.

Once his hips still and he pulls out, he flops down next to you. The two of you are nothing but a panting mess. Chests rising and falling along with your erratic heart beats.

“I love you too” he confesses, making you gasp as you turn your head to look at his spent body, the way his eyes meet yours and tears pool in them has your eyes doing the same.

“Andy”

“I’m not finished. I’ve felt this connection with you since the day i first met you, it caught me completely off guard. When we made the deal for it to be just friends, i was upset. I wanted a lot more but i know i wasn’t ready just yet. But the way you’d draw out laughter from me that no one else has ever been able to and the way you’d boss me around only made my feelings grow. Then we fucked and it was like confirmation to me that i was well and truly screwed. But i kept coming back for more because it was like an addiction, i had to have you in any way that was possible and if sex was the only way then i’d have stayed single forever just to keep you close. I’d have done anything to be able to hold your body and kiss your neck and make you feel good. If doing that as just your fuck buddy was the only way then so be it. But i got to a point where just fucking you wasn’t enough. I wanted something real with you. So on Saturday-” before he can even finish you sigh, sitting up.

“You came to tell me how you felt? Andy, why didn’t you just say that earlier?” you don’t know how to feel right now. You’re so consumed by emotions that your head is spinning. One one hand you’re angry, annoyed and upset that he kept this from you and didn’t just tell you he felt the same when you confessed how you felt. But then on the other hand you’re relieved and happy that he does feel the same. This was never some unrequited love, it’s always been reciprocated and real.

All the lingering stares you’d catch, all of the compliments thrown your way and the insults hurled at random guys who’d ogle you whenever you were out in public with him or whenever another guy at work would take an interest.

“I saw you with that guy Y/N and i broke down. Then today, i expected you to come in and talk to me about it but instead you sat down at your desk, acted normal and didn’t say a word. I was hurt that you’d keep this from me. I know we both felt these things and i know both of us were unaware of the feelings being reciprocated but you still didn’t tell me you’d even thought about seeing other people and i guess i just expected more from you, more honesty”

He’s right. You don’t have it in you to argue because he’s right. He might have had his reasons for hiding his true feelings but you hid your date from him and that’s a lot worse. How was he supposed to just come out with it when all he could think of was you with Ashley.

“You’re right. I was wrong, i didn’t even think about the effect it would have and i was selfish. To tell you the truth i only went out with that guy because i was trying to move on from you, i didn’t want to keep feeling this strongly with no possibility of you feeling the same so i did the first thing i knew to do, date some other guy”

Andy can’t say he isn’t relieved to hear you admit that preppy college boy means nothing to you but it’s bitter sweet, you saying that you thought your feelings were one sided so you wanted to move on to avoid getting hurt further makes him hurt too. You’ve always meant more to him than just some friendship or some steamy sex. You’re the first woman he’s even looked twice at since Laurie and that means a whole lot more than you’ll ever know or understand.

“So what now?” you ask, puppy dog eyes showing as you await his response.

“I know it’s a bit backwards but how about a date tomorrow?”

God, he really is so handsome, so sweet. His deep and raspy chuckles make you giggle along with him as you straddle him once again, crashing your lips to his, his beard scratching at your face just the way you like.

He pulls away for a second “is that a yes?” once more you shake your head, tutting at him “a thousand times yes, Mr Barber. Yes i’ll go out with you” he wraps his arms around you as he pulls you flush against his suit clad torso, kissing you eagerly and smiling into it. He finally got the girl.

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

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prfctethereal · 3 years

Text

my future | gazing upon a crystal ball | part i

pairing: james potter x reader

warnings: LOTS of angst sorry, some fluff, idk if i forgot anythings

***

There are three things you should know about me.

Number one: somehow veritaserum does not work on me. It’s the strangest thing I’ve ever encountered. No matter how much of the truth-spilling potion passed my lips, my secrets never budged. It was as if I was drinking water, without the tart, metallic taste.

Number two: my talent of divination was unrivalled at Hogwarts. Once again, it was unclear how I possessed this power, especially since I was muggleborn, but somehow, I was one of the best Seers in over a decade at Hogwarts, praised courtesy of Professor Trelawney.

And number three: I was hopelessly in love with the man that I could call my boyfriend, James Fleamont Potter. He was the definition of charm and chivalry; he was who I wished to call my everything.

As I laid down in his arms in the Gryffindor common room, I watched the fire crackle, the quiet sound of James’ soft breathing floating through my ears. His hand was traipsing up and down my back mindlessly, tracing figure eights onto my delicate skin. I felt calm. I felt content.

There were two days left of our seventh year at Hogwarts. Tomorrow was supposed to be spent cleaning up our dorms and soaking in the last moments of the Hogwarts atmosphere, but all I wanted to do was stay inside all day with James.

He hoped to join the Order of the Phoenix, a secret organisation that worked to bring down Death Eaters and Voldemort himself, after Hogwarts. I wanted to join just as bad as James did, but he said no. It was the only thing we fought about. Continuously, he argued about the dangers of joining together, but I always held my ground. We were to do this together.

“What are you thinking about, love?” I heard James say from above me, placing a gentle kiss on my cheek as I smiled.

“You. Me. Our future.” I shrugged, rubbing the palms of my hands up and down James’ arms, trying to ground myself.

“I like that sound of that,” James nuzzled his head into the book of my neck, inhaling my scent. “Our future. You and me. Forever.”

“I’ll always be your forever and ever, Jamesie. I love you to the moon and back.” The words came out as a hushed whisper, but James clung on to them desperately, pressing innocent kisses just under my jaw.

“You won’t be able to get rid of me.” James cracked a joke, running his fingers across my waist, lightly tickling me as he went. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I wouldn’t want you to.” I replied, leaning upwards to place a delicate kiss on his lips. Raising my hands up to his face, I cupped his cheeks, deepening the kiss in a flurry of passion, that was soon interrupted.

A rustling sound came through the portrait of the Gryffindor common room, piquing the interest of us too. We broke apart from each other at first, before slowly melting back together. It was late at night, many of the other students having already gone to bed. Subconsciously, I grabbed onto James’ hand, letting the pads of his thumbs gently rake over my knuckles as if to soothe me.

Professor McGonagall strutted into the common room, a distressed look on her face. With furrowed eyebrows, she scanned the surroundings before her eyes landed on me.

“Y/N, can you please come with me? Professor Dumbledore wishes to see you.” McGonagall spoke softly, reaching her hand out towards me.

“Oooh, you’re in trouble.” James laughed, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple. I chucked along until I saw the somber expression plastered on McGonagall’s face, shutting my mouth instantly.

“Of course, Professor. I’ll come immediately.” Before leaving, I turned quickly, placing one lady peck on James’ nose, hurrying out of the common room, towing behind McGonagall.

She didn’t say much and walked briskly, a stark contrast to her normal attitude. It was quiet, none of us striking conversation, so we walked together in uncomfortable silence until we reached the griffin statue that guarded Dumbledore’s office.

“Sherbet lemon.” Professor McGonagall stated, her booming voice commanding the griffin to let safe passage through. When the griffin had moved, McGonagall said nothing, but ushered me upwards until I reached the doorway.

“Miss L/N, please come in.” Professor Dumbledore beckoned me in through his great door. I always tensed up at his looming office. Everything seemed so much taller than me. Too many eyes could look at me and judge me from the portraits around the room. I lingered in the doorway, uncertain about obeying Dumbledore’s command.

“Please.” He persisted, his hand outstretched towards me, as if to hold my own and walk in with me. I kept my hands to myself, slightly uncomfortable with his twinkling eyes, staring at me from out the top of his moon shaped glasses.

Nodding my head, I finally walked in, the smell of fresh air hitting my face. I took a deep breath, once again shaken from the look Dumbledore was giving me. My abilities of reading people’s faces and expressions stopped with Dumbledore, who always wore a monotonous look on his face, almost disapproving and disappointed.

Gazing around the room, I took in the noticeable differences from earlier in the year. A few trinkets had been put away as well as some suitcases in the corner of the room, looking ready to be packed. It just hit me that Dumbledore would be leaving and going home. I often forgot that Dumbledore had a home away from Hogwarts. Other things looked different, as well as a few portraits missing from the wall and the curtains drawn, something that was definitely unusual for Dumbledore; he liked as much moonlight as possible.

Something wasn’t right.

What really intrigued me was the crystal ball sitting neatly on Dumbledore’s desk in the middle of the room. I was always quite good at Divination as it was my best subject. Professor Trelawney had always taken quite a liking for me and took me under my wing after third year. I remembered our first lesson we ever had with her and the way her eyes widened as she looked at me. After that lesson, she kept me after class, explaining how she had seen me in her own crystal ball, and how my future of Divination would be bright.

She was correct. I had excelled in every one of my exams; I had the Outstandings to prove it. As a muggleborn, I was always curious about how I had gotten my powers of a Seer, but I never pondered it as much as I should’ve. Once again, I was clueless as I looked at the crystal ball on Dumbledore’s desk. Something told me he wanted me to take a look.

“Professor Trelawney has seen some shocking news in this ball and would like for you to take a look.” Right to the point. Dumbledore was not one for cutting corners. Sheepishly, I nodded, walking slowly up to his desk, before his outstretched hand stopped me in my path.

“Be warned. If what Sybil said was true, it might shake you a bit.” Incredulously, I stayed silent, my eyes flickering from Dumbledore’s worried irises and the swirling mist forming in the crystal on the desk.

“Okay, sir.” My voice came out as a croak as I made my way over to the desk. Nervously, I pressed my hands against the cold ball, the feeling of electricity pulsing through my veins from the smallest brush. I jolted in surprise; the future was strong. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, before opening them slowly, taking in the black wisps of the future before me.

Peering closer, I saw something that made me smile. It was James, the biggest grin on his face, his eyes looking down into his arms. Wrapped in a blanket, James was holding a small boy, hair as dark as James, eyes green like the forest behind us. The only thing I could think was pure happiness, thoughts swirling in my mind.

Was it my child too?

My questions were soon answered as a woman came up behind James, smearing an endearing kiss to James’ cheek. Her fiery red hair and enchanting green eyes were unmissable. That wasn’t me. That was Lily Evans.

I could feel my heart breaking in my chest as I watched James press a soft, delicate kiss on Lily’s cupid’s bow, the smile shared between them, the look in their eyes so obvious. They were in love.

Quickly, the scene changed, instantly taking a darker turn. It was in a forest, the forbidden forest to be exact, where Lord Voldemort stood, Elder Wand in hand, a horrendous grin pressed to his face. His pungent red eyes were alive and vicious, shooting daggers at the figure in front of him.

It was merely a boy, no older than I was, yet he looked so much like James. I knew instantaneously that this was James’ child all grown up. I couldn’t hear what was being said but their wands clashed together, a stream of red and green meeting between them. In a flash, Voldemort sank to the ground. Dead.

Gasping for air as if I had been drowning, my hands pulled away from the crystal ball. My breath was shallow, which turned into hyperventilation, letting me fall to the ground, tears ebbing at my vision. I couldn’t comprehend anything that was going on anymore. I let the tears run down my cheeks as I felt a presence sink down beside me, meeting me on the floor next to me.

“Miss L/N, are you okay?” I couldn’t believe that that old fool had the audacity to ask such a question. With tears still falling from my bloodshot eyes, I looked up at him, cocking my eyebrows, almost mockingly. Obviously I wasn’t okay as my hands shook and tears fell, but I managed to mutter out an answer, just to please Dumbledore.

“No.” The one syllable answer hurt to say. Unconsciously, I let my head fall to my side, resting on Dumbledore’s shoulder. I wished for none of his comfort, yet I knew I needed it. As we sat in silence, I let all my tears pour out as Dumbledore rubbed my arm soothingly, not interrupting the silent aura we had created, until my sobs had died down.

“I’m sorry miss, but I must ask you,” here we go, “what did you see in the crystal ball?”

“It was James, but it wasn’t me by his side. It was Lily. Lily “Perfect” Evans. And they had a child, a beautiful baby boy. The love of my life has a child with someone else. He loves someone else. Their child was the one to defeat Voldemort, to end everyone’s suffering. Not our child, their child.” I managed to explain as Dumbledore nodded, obviously having heard the same story from Trelawney, but much less emotionally.

There was a stillness that laid between us. Sobbing silently, Dumbledore waited patiently for me to finish letting out everything I needed to. For a normally emotionless person, Dumbledore was actually good company as I wallowed away in my pity.

“What do I do?” I managed to croak out after a while, my throat breathy and sore from my crying. A sigh escaped Dumbledore’s lips, not a promising sign for my racing headache. Everything seemed to be falling to pieces beneath my grasp and even trying to comprehend what this would all mean for James and I’s relationship was impossible.

“What do you think you have to do?” Dumbledore asked me. It was a foolish question, something that I hadn’t expected from such a wise man like Dumbledore. I scowled at him, contorting my sad frown into a sneer.

“I have to break up with him.” I sighed, playing with my fingers in my lap. “But then what? Sit around watching James and Lily slowly fall in love. It’s too painful. I couldn’t do it.”

“There is another option for you.” I was intrigued. “I have gotten permission from a pureblood witch from Beauxbatons to let us use her name. She is currently working for the Order in Japan, standing in as a teacher at Mahoutokoro, watching out for any dark magic. She’s working under a fake name, so no one knows anything about who she really is. I know you wish to work for the Order, so I have a mission for you, if you choose to accept. You would pose as a waitress and performer at a popular Death Eater bar in Scotland. You will stay there for as long as possible, gaining their trust and learning what you can, under the name of Colette Heroux, a runaway Beauxbatons blood supremacist. It’s almost perfect that you would do it as if they use veritaserum on you, you can lie. You wouldn’t have to be around anyone else from the Order and you would have weekly meetings with just me. No one will know what you are doing. No one can know what you are doing.”

My throat hitched at the proposition. It was perfect. I could leave and let James and Lily’s destiny play out, without having to rip my heart out in two. At the same time, I couldn’t leave. I would have to leave behind all my friends, Remus, Sirius, Peter….

It was the only thing I could do though.

“Fine. I’ll do it.” I muttered quietly. “When do I leave?”

“Tonight.” My eyes widened in shock. I would miss graduation. Dumbledore seemed to know what was on my mind and answered accordingly. “You will still graduate. I’m sorry, but we must leave as soon as possible. You may go back to your room and collect your stuff.”

I didn’t reply. In a hurried fashion, I rushed away from Dumbledore and back through the doors, not stopping to acknowledge Professor McGonagall who was standing there wide eyed and in shock.

As I burst into the common room, I tried to avoid James, but I couldn’t. He immediately walked over to me, noticing the way the tears fell down my cheeks, cupping my face delicately and enveloping my torso in a hug. It was too painful.

Pushing away, I couldn’t even keep eye contact with him. I stared at the ground, trying to get as far away from James as possible.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” James reached out to me once again but I flinched away, bringing my arms up to brush him off, watching his heart break with every rejection through his eyes.

“Please don’t call me darling, it’ll make this harder than it already is.” I muttered. James tried to say something but I kept speaking, not wanting to be influenced by whatever James had to say. “I have to break up with you.”

“You have to?” James asked incredulously, his voice a meer whisper from surprise. Quickly, I readjusted my words.

“I want to break up.” I tried again, my voice failing to carry out the sentence. I still couldn’t look at James but I knew he was starting to cry from the choking noises coming from his throat.

“No you don’t. No, that’s not true-”

“It is. We shouldn’t be together. I’m no good for you.”

“I love you. I’m in love with you.”

“I’m in love with no one.” Anger was boiling up in my blood but I wasn’t sure where from. All I knew was I had to get out of this situation. “I’m in love with no one, but myself.”

“You said that you would always be my forever and ever. I said you couldn’t get rid of me.” James was matching my anger as well, stepping towards me red in the face. “That was barely an hour ago. What changed?”

“Everything.” I said, turning away from him. I was done with this conversation. Everything was hurting inside me and all I wanted to do was cry. I knew I had to pack my things though, so I rushed to the staircase for the girl’s dormitories. Before I could reach the steps, I was met by a confused looking Lily, who seemed to have watched the whole thing unfold.

“Look after him for me Lily, would you?” She nodded, unsure of what I meant. Looking back, I saw James still looking at me in awe. He needed closure. I could give that to him.

“I’ll see you in a couple years.”

***

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

Out Of Time ~ 104

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,120ish

Summary: Y/N’s return to SHIELD is not what she wanted it to be.

The “new” SHIELD’s border members, Gonzalez, Oliver, and Weaver were in the room, along with Bobbi and May. There was little time for chitchat, the meeting began right away. Y/N and Coulson started with the news footage, playing on stations around the world.

“Cards on the table,” Coulson said, throwing an access lanyard for the helicarrier onto the table.

“Obviously, you and Fury have been keeping busy,” Gonzalez commented.

“What can I say? I’m a company man. With the fall of SHIELD, Fury felt we needed a failsafe. Something completely off the books, a break in case of emergency type of thing.”

“Seems like you broke it wide open,” Weaver replied.

“And saved the day in the process,” Bobbi added. Y/N immediately noticed the look Weaver and Oliver shot Bobbi.

“Excuse me, but you weren’t there,” Y/N said, anger lacing her words. “If it weren’t for the helicarrier, hundreds of thousands of people would be dead. Breaking it wide open was the only option.

“What Agent Rogers is trying to say is that, what’s transpired over the last week is a lot to take in,” Coulson said. “We know. When I found out that this ship had survived HYDRA’s attack, and still had that classified cargo on board, that you placed spies on my base, that I couldn’t keep my own people safe…I felt like I’d failed as director. And the truth is, I did.” He laughed a bit, looking down. “A coup will make you think about things like that. I tried to do it all alone. That was a mistake. Even Fury had a world council watching over him, providing guidance.”

“What are you suggesting?” Gonzalez asked.

“One SHIELD, where I operate as director under your advisement.” Gonzalez shared a look with Bobbi, Weaver, and Oliver. “This way, we’ll have a cool underground base and a boat.”

“It’s hard to argue with a man who helped prevent Ultron from killing thousands of people. But there are plenty more battles to be won and one closer to home that I fear the helicarrier won’t solve.”

~~~

After the meeting, Y/N escaped to the medical wing for some medication for her leg. May had followed her there.

“You okay?” May asked, folding her arms as she watched Y/N.

“I’ll live,” Y/N responded with a wince.

“Fury make you come here?”

“What do you think? He couldn’t stand the thought of Phil getting pushed out of the director’s seat. You still mad he kept Theta Protocol a secret?”

“I won’t be forgiving him that easily.”

“He did help save thousands of people.”

“So did you.” May silently observed Y/N as she rewrapped her injured leg. “Does Stark know you’re here?”

“I couldn’t disappear after a world ending fight without telling him.”

“Hmm,” May hummed with a nod. “Something’s different,” May thought. “Something happened.”

“Aren’t you intuitive,” Y/N laughed out loud.

“What?”

“You noticed something is different.”

“How did you—“

“What’s different is that I can now read minds.”

“What?” Coulson questioned from the door way.

“The Mind Stone in Loki’s scepter. I can also control minds. Came in handy when Steve and Tony started at each others throats.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me sooner?” Coulson stepped forward.

“Um… no. I did only get these abilities a few days ago and I was asked to come here, unwillingly, and was forced straight into a meeting. Sorry I was too busy saving the world and helping that group of people understand why we hid Theta Protocol.” Y/N groaned as she stood back on her feet. “You know what, I am done helping all of you. Don’t come in attacking me like that, when you don’t know what kind of hell I’ve been through this week. I’ve already gotten all this from my brother, I sure as hell won’t take it from you!”

“Y/N, I didn’t mean to—“

“I’ll be on the base, packing my things and saying my good byes to the team. I’m done being questioned for everything that happens.”

“Come on, Y/N,” May said, stepping closer as a portal formed behind Y/N. “He didn’t—”

“I don’t care.”

Y/N rushed through the portal, closing it before Coulson and May had a chance to do or say anything else. She looked around, letting out a sigh of relief when she realized she was in her bunker on the base. Leaving the room, she wasn’t surprised to find her teammates in the lab.

“Guys,” Y/N called softly.

Skye and Fitz-Simmons turned there attentions from what they were focused on to Y/N at the doorway. Her eyes quickly filled with tears.

“What happened?” Fitz rushed up to her. “Are you okay?”

All Y/N could do was shake her head as the sobs began. Fitz quickly brought her in for a hug. Simmons and Skye rubbed her back as Fitz tried to calm her. When they calmed her down, they helped her into a chair and then she told them about her new powers, the events of Sokovia, and what had happened on Gonzalez’ ship.

“I know it probably sounds like I’m over reacting,” she said. “But I’m so tired…. So tired of fighting and people questioning me…. Just so tired.”

“Understandably so,” Simmons said, rubbing Y/N’s leg.

“So that’s why I’m… I’ve decided to take a step away from the team.”

“What?!” They all exclaimed.

“You can’t do that,” Skye said, clearly hurt. “What if I need you?”

“Oh, Skye,” Y/N cooed, grabbing her hand. “You will always be welcomed at the Tower and I will always be a phone call away. I just… I need some time for myself. I really haven’t had any since I was found. I’ve always kept myself busy with missions and taking care of people. And… I need a break.”

Suddenly, Skye’s phone began ringing. She sighed upon seeing it was Coulson before answering it. He told her of the classified cargo in Gonzalez’ ship. A rectangular shaped stone with carvings on it, in a large glass box. It frequently turns into liquid, sloshing around a few times, before turning back into a stone. Coulson asked if Skye, Y/N, or Lincoln knew why Gordon and Raina would be after it.

“I have no idea,” Skye stated. Coulson and May showed up at the base about an hour after his call, pulling Y/N and Skye into Coulson’s office. “Seriously, Y/N and I have never heard of anything like that before and neither has Lincoln.”

“And you believe him?” Coulson asked.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You barely know him.”

“I know enough. He and Jiaying helped me. They never tried to hurt me—“

“Though they did try to hurt me,” Y/N muttered.

“—Th-they taught me to channel my power so I wasn’t hurting myself. These are good people, Coulson.”

“Are they? People, I mean.”

“What?” Y/N questioned.

“I mean, look Skye, I know you feel connected to this group, but you won’t tell us much about them, you’re keeping to yourself—“

“I’ve been taking care of Lincoln,” she argued.

“Okay, but from our perspective, we don’t even know what to call them.”

“Inhumans. Our ancient ancestors called themselves Inhumans, and we just want to be left alone.”

“We?”

"If they want to be left alone, then why infiltrate a military vessel?” May asked.

“You’re assuming that this thing is a weapon. Well, it’s in SHIELD’s possession. Maybe they’re just afraid of it – afraid of what Gonzalez might do with it.”

“We’re not the enemy here,” Coulson stated, standing up from his desk.

“This man teleported onboard, Skye,” May defended. “He’s clearly very dangerous.”

“I portaled my way onto the ship as well,” Y/N said. “And have other abilities now too. You going to lock me up and question me? And you can be just as dangerous May.”

“I heard about what happened to that little girl in Bahrain,” Skye stated. “Jiaying told me the whole story. Did you know that she was Inhuman?” May looked at Skye, clearly shocked, as both Coulson and Y/N looked between the two women. “They both were. So you, of all people, should understand why they’d want to keep their location a secret…what they’re so afraid of.”

~~~

It was the morning and Y/N hadn’t gotten the courage to leave just yet. She was walking towards the lab when she saw Gonzalez and his crew. Lookin into Gonzalez’ mind, she learned that him and his crew were headed to Coulson’s office and that they had found the location of Afterlife. She portaled herself in Coulson’s office.

“Y/N, I’m about to have a meeting,” Coulson started, “is there something I can help you with?”

“Well, I’m still the assistant director, aren’t I?” She responded. “I should be in the meeting as well.”

“I don’t know—“

“Rogers, Coulson, May,” Gonzalez greeted upon entering, his crew behind him. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Not at all,” Coulson quickly replied. “Agent Rogers was just leaving.”

Throwing a glare at Coulson, Y/N looked at May for some help. She didn’t give any. With one more look at Coulson, she noticed him subtly pointing to his head.

“Leave and portal into the secret stairwell behind the monitor,” Coulson instructed. “You’ll be able to listen in from there.”

She quickly did as she was told. Gonzalez and his crew explained that they had found the location and put the map up on the large wall monitor.

“What’s our plan of attack?” Gonzalez asked.

“Who said anything about an attack?” Coulson fired back.

“These people are a threat.”

“We don’t know that,” Bobbi retorted.

“We don’t know anything about them.”

“They could teleport into this room right now and leave a bomb behind,” Oliver said.

“We’ve seen what Skye is capable of. Lincoln could short out our entire system,” Weaver stated. “And then there’s Y/N, who can now also teleport into places.”

“I understand your concerns, but the last thing we need is to start a war,” Coulson said. “We just finished one for God’s sake.”

“Action needs to be taken, Phil,” Gonzalez argued.

“Which is why I’m proposing a sit down with their leader, this woman Jiaying. We’ll call it a fact finding mission.”

“They’d need to agree to that first,” Weaver said.

“We could use Skye is a liaison,” Bobbi suggested. “She is a SHIELD agent.”

“Is that still true?” Gonzalez wondered.

“Of course it is,” Coulson replied.

“Now’s a good time to find out where Skye really stands,” May added, seemingly doubting Skye’s loyalties.”

~~~

Y/N made sure she was walking down the hallway with Skye when Coulson told her they were going to the Afterlife.

“No, you cannot go there,” Skye said. “Listen, secrecy is what they value most.”

“We can’t ignore their existence,” Coulson reasoned. “They’re not ignoring ours.”

“Please!” Skye hurried to stand in from of Coulson, stopping him from walking.

“Look, at the very least, we need to find out how many people we’re dealing with, assess their powers, place them on The Index. You know how this works. You’re a SHIELD agent.”

Skye took a second before answering. “I-I don’t know what I am anymore.” Coulson seemed taken back by this. “Okay, just…let Lincoln and I go first. They’re probably worried about us. Y/N can take us. I’ll talk to Jiaying, explain why you’re coming, that you just want to help. She’ll listen.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because she’s my mother.”

~~~

“I’m leaving after this,” Y/N said. It was just her and Coulson headed towards the lab. “I need a break.”

“No,” he answered.

“No? I’m sorry, what?”

“I can’t let you leave… I can’t lose you.”

“As in your agent or your friend?”

“Both.”

“Too bad. It’s time for me to slow down, figure some things out. Like you’ve suggested a few times.” Coulson sighed. “My heads falling out of the game, Phil. I need to leave it before it costs someone there life.”

“I understand. I’ll just…. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” The two entered the lab.

“Time to go,” Coulson said.

Fitz-Simmons, Skye, and Lincoln turned to look at them. Skye closed her bag, zipping it, before sharing one last look with Fitz-Simmons and walking towards Coulson and Y/N. They exit the lab, Coulson and Y/N leading with Skye and Lincoln following, side by side.

“How’d it go?” Skye asked Lincoln.

“The Indexing?” Lincoln clarified. “They just asked a lot of questions. But I’m sure you guys already have my blood from when I was out, right?”

“It’s protocol,” Coulson reasoned.

“HYDRA said the same thing.”

They stopped walking. Coulson turned to face Lincoln.

“I know you’ve been through a lot, but you can trust us,” Coulson said. “You’ll see.” Lincoln just stared, saying nothing, so Coulson turned to Y/N. “You ready?”

“Always,” she replied with a nod.

“Okay.” Coulson looked between Y/N and Skye. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Skye replied.

“Okay.”

~~~

Y/N put them in the courtyard of Afterlife. Luckily, Jiaying was there. She immediately went up and hugged Skye.

“Are you alright?” Jiaying asked.

“Yeah,” Skye responded.

Jiaying looked at Lincoln. “What happened?”

“A lot,” Lincoln answered. “But I’m okay.”

“A doctor at SHIELD patched him up,” Skye said.

“SHIELD?” Jiaying repeated.

“We need to talk.”

“Go to the recovery room,” Jiaying instructed Lincoln. “Have one of ours take a look at you.” He nodded and walked away. “Come. Tell me everything.”

Jiaying lead Skye away. Skye casted a look over her shoulder to Y/N, who nods in okay. As the two women leave further, Y/N notices Gordon and Raina near by, looking grim. Curious, Y/N peeked into Raina’s mind.

“SHIELD is coming,” Raina thought to herself. “This is my chance to be the hero.”

With that, Y/N quickly left back to the base. She put herself outside of Coulson’s office, where himself, May, Bobbi, Gonzalez, Weaver, and Oliver were in a meeting. Coulson was briefing them.

“Agent Weaver, you’ll be with me on QJ36,” Coulson said. “We’ll land a good distance from their main buildings here.” He pointed to the map on the monitor. "Now, I’ll go in first, alone, unarmed.”

“You shouldn’t be the one going in,” Gonzalez stated.

“Care to elaborate?”

“You’re too close to this. Skye’s like a daughter to you and her mother is these people’s leader.”

“I’m banking on that personal connection to everyone through this safely.”

“You shouldn’t be. This is one of the greatest threats SHIELD’s ever faced.”

“I agree,” Weaver added. “A whole race of people with powers…”

“And you’ve proven time and again that you’re not objective when it comes to Skye.”

“That’s you opinion, not fact,” Bobbi retorted.

“Want to talk facts? Ultron was created because people were too close to Tony Stark. They were blinded by his charm. They trusted him. Never even thought to look at what he was working on. And The Avengers, they let one man do whatever he wanted, and the world was almost destroyed for it. We’re SHIELD We’re better than that. Or at least we should be.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Y/N growled, stepping into the office. Everyone’s head snapped towards her. “You weren’t there. We weren’t blinding by his charm. He didn’t tell us what he was working on because he thought he was protecting us. And Tony wasn’t alone, Dr. Banner was working on it with him as well. They thought they were creating something that would allow the Avengers and SHIELD to go home. To have families. For the fight to end.”

“You aren’t suppose to be here, Agent Rogers.”

“I can be anywhere. Have you forgotten that?”

“No, I haven’t. That is why I need to meet with these people. Coulson is not objective when it comes to you or Skye.”

“No one is objective when it comes to those on their team! At least if they’re an actual team.”

Gonzalez stood up from his chair, going toe-to-toe with Y/N. “Agent Rogers, it’s time for you to leave.”

“Make me.” Guns cocked around the room, all aiming at Y/N.

“Woah!” Bobbi called. “Oliver and Weaver, what are you doing?”

“She’s dangerous,” Oliver stated. “Even without powers, she’s dangerous.”

“Y/N, stand down,” Coulson said. “Y/N… please…”

Y/N peeked into Gonzalez’ mind. “All you want it war. And from the looks of it, you might get it. But I’m not going to be here when it happens. If SHIELD involves you, I don’t want any part of it.”

“Y/N—“

“No, Coulson, I’m done. Tell the team I’m sorry that I didn’t say a final goodbye.”

~~~

Tony was in his lab, getting the final plans ready for the new Avengers Facility he was going to build in upstate New York. The construction was going to start tomorrow, and they were to work all day and night until it was finished. Tony had decided that the team needed more space and privacy to train.

“Boss,” FRIDAY called, “Y/N Rogers has returned to the Tower.”

“Already?” Tony questioned. “It must have gone well. Where is she?”

“The training room. She’s already going at it will a punching bag.”

“Okay then,” Tony stood up and headed out of the room, “it clearly did not go well.”

Tony hurried down to the training rooms. He heard your punches before he even opened the door. As Tony drew near, he could see the tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Honey?” He carefully called, only to get no response. “I’m going to assume that the meeting didn’t go well.”

“It… wasn’t… the meeting…” Y/N said, in between punches. “It was… everything… else…”

Tony silently watched for a moment before completely going to Y/N’s side and grabbing her arm. “Okay, okay. I think it’s time for you to either talk about it or go to bed.”

“Fine,” she sighed.

Tony quietly led Y/N to their room. He guided her to sit on their bed before helping her unwrap her hands.

“I quit,” she whispered. “I’m done… I need a break.”

“How did Coulson take it?”

“Not very well.”

“And Skye?”

“Since there’s been no major earthquakes, then I think okay.”

“Well,” he pulled her hands up, placing kissed on them, “I think that was smart. I’ve been… I’ve been thinking about retirement too. No missions, just paying and designing everything.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to do it? To slow down?”

“I think that, together, we’ll be able to do anything.”

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

#avengers x reader #the avengers x reader #tony stark x reader #iron man x reader #tony stark #Tony Stark fanfiction #tony stark imagine #Iron Man #iron man fanfiction #The Avengers #Avengers #avengers age of ultron #age of ultron #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine

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raiseyourcups · 3 years

Text

Cabur

Chapter Eighteen

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC (Aili Verdella) Warnings: choking (and not the sexy kind), miscommunication (so much of it), cursing, Kuiil attempting help Mando and Aili Word Count: 4.4k Also on AO3

Masterlist//Main Masterlist

Summary: The whole gang is on the way to Nevarro, Mando is being weird after a quick talk with Kuiil and Aili is suspicious. Cara and Mando have an arm-wrestle and secrets are revealed about the child which leads to several people putting their foot in their mouth at different times.

They were loading up the blurrg when Kuiil spoke up. “That one is good for you,” he said without preamble as usual. That didn’t make his words any less jarring for Mando to hear as he barely stopped himself from accidentally pulling too hard on the blurrg’s reins. The last thing they needed was for him to piss off the blurrg again.

“What?” was the only thing he settled on saying.

“The smaller angry one, Aili. You two are good for each other, sooth each other’s anger from the past.” Kuiil wasn’t stupid, he had seen too many things during his servitude to the Empire. He didn’t need to know any details to see the similarities and he was sure the Shock Trooper had seen it too.

“We’re not together,” Mando said stiffly.

“That is not what I see when you two are around each other.”

“She doesn’t-”

“I have spoken.” Kuiil said before Mando could even finish his sentence.

Mando didn’t even know what else to say or do after that so he just kept leading the blurrg onto the ship. He was just glad that neither Aili or Cara were on the ship yet. Cara because she would just start laughing at the two of them again and Aili because he had no idea how she would react. As much as he wanted to know, a bigger part of him, the smarter part, didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to hear her own rejection out loud.

They got everything packed onto the ship quickly after that, Mando trying to avoid Aili just a little bit. He almost succeeded but right after Cara and Kuiil went on board, Aili stopped him from heading up the gangway with a hand on his arm. “Is everything okay? Because if this is about the plan, we don’t have to--”

“We don’t have a choice,” Mando said shortly, slightly shrugging out of her grasp and walking onto the ship. Aili stared at him as she followed behind him with Little Green’s cradle floating between them. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion but she quickly schooled her face back into it’s usual passive expression once Cara was in sight. No need to have Cara start asking questions or making teasing remarks any time soon.

She watched Mando from the corner of her eye as she made sure that Little Green’s cradle wasn’t going to be in the way of anyone. He went up to the cockpit and they were soon taking off from Arvala-7 without another word. Weird but whatever, Aili shrugged to herself and went over to where they kept their rations to get the kid something to eat to keep him from starting any trouble.

Whatever Mando’s problem was would work itself out eventually or she could always kick his ass, whichever happened first. She was willing to bet on the latter option though. There was the small lurch that sent them into hyperspace and a minute later, Mando was sliding back down the ladder just as Aili was turning to walk back over to Little Green.

Aili let out a quiet sound of surprise when she barely stopped herself from getting a face full of beskar. “I am getting you a bell once this is all over.”

“None of that, please, there are children present,” Cara called from where she was sitting. She had a smirk on her face as she watched the two of them almost crash into each other. She honestly couldn’t believe the two of them were still acting so oblivious to each other’s feelings, but she was starting to get the impression that it was mainly coming from one more than the other.

“Who, you? I think it’s too late to give you the talk,” Aili bit back, side stepping around Mando so she could give Little Green his snack. Hopefully after that he’d be ready to go to sleep and then he really couldn’t start any trouble before they got to Nevarro.

“Just a little late,” Cara said back, a large grin on her face now. Her gaze slid over to where Mando was still standing stiffly. “Hey Mando, let’s settle a bet.”

“What?” That finally snapped him back into reality and Cara pulled out a few credits, placing them on the crate she was sitting in front of.

“Let’s find out who’s really stronger, me or you.”

Mando paused to think it over before walking over and placing his own credits on the makeshift table. “I won’t go easy on you.”

“Trash talk doesn’t work on me.”

Aili watched as Mando and Cara arm-wrestled out of pure boredom and a need to finally prove who was stronger. Further back Kuiil was feeding the blurrg and Little Green was curiously watching Mando and Cara as well from his cradle. He had just finished his snack and Aili was still trying to decide how much longer to let him stay up. She had given him the snack and moved back over to the other side of the ship where things were a little less crowded.

“I got you, Mando.”

“Care to double the bet?”

Aili rolled her eyes at the two of them, mostly Mando because he had no problem making bets with Cara but he couldn’t have a simple conversation with her before they left Arvala-7. She had no idea what had happened during the time he was loading the blurrgs with Kuiil but if he wanted to act like a child, she’d let him. He had done that to her plenty of times.

Her eyes went wide in surprise as soon as Cara started to choke on nothing. Like something invisible was choking her. She rushed forward when Cara brought her hands up to her throat in an attempt to do something. She didn't even notice Mando staring at Little Green as she tried to figure out what was wrong with Cara.

“No, no, hey, stop!” Mando shouted, grabbing Little Green a little too roughly as the child let out a small squeak of surprise. “We’re friends. Cara is my friend!”

Cara took several harsh breaths. “That is not okay!” She angrily exclaimed, pointing at the kid with one finger while she tried to catch her breath.

“He...has he had powers this whole time?” Aili questioned, eyes still wide in shock. She’d heard rumors of things like this, had seen a couple of girls taken out of the Program with no reason given. But guards always talked and they spoke of weird powers, something the Emperor was always looking out for. Other than that she had never asked for details. She wouldn’t have been given answers anyway no matter what her rank was within the Program.

“Hmm, very curious,” Kuiil said, coming closer to look at the child in Mando’s grasp.

“Curious? It almost killed me!” Cara exclaimed, not even noticing when the kid let out another quiet sound of distress.

“He’s a child and didn’t know what you two were doing,” Aili said harshly, moving around Cara to go over to Mando to hold her hands out for him to hand Little Green over to her. He hesitated for a second before doing so. She barely noticed the way he tensed up when their hands brushed against each other, she was too focused on making sure the kid was okay.

“The story you told me of the mudhorn makes more sense now,” Kuiil said, still looking at the child with surprise in his eyes.

“Mudhorn?” Aili asked, throwing Mando a look of displeasure when she saw the slight tears in Little Green’s eyes. He had obviously gotten scared by Mando shouting at him and Cara yelling at him.

“What is it?” Mando asked, ignoring the look Aili was giving him for now. It wasn’t the most pressing matter at the moment to tell her about the mudhorn incident.

“He,” Aili muttered under her breath, too low for anyone to really hear it. They had both given him enough baths and cleaned his small robe enough times that Mando should know that Little Green was a boy by now. Of course he was probably still trying to act like he wasn’t as attached to the kid as she was.

Kuiil shook his head slightly, “What it is, I don’t know. But what it does, this I’ve heard rumors of.”

“What, when you worked for the Empire? And what about you Aili, you know about this too?” Cara questioned, her tone a little too accusatory for Aili’s taste.

Aili threw a look of incredulity towards Cara, angry that the Shock Trooper would accuse her of something with no proof. “Okay let’s not go there just because you’re pissed off.”

“And you mean when I was sold to the Empire, in indentured servitude,” Kuiil added, his own voice taking on slight anger.

Cara let out a scoff, gesturing towards them both, “Yet somehow, you both walk free.”

“I bought my freedom through the skill of my hands and the labor of three of your human lifetimes. Do not cast doubt upon that of what I am nor whom I shall serve,” Kuiil said, short and to the point but not without quiet anger lacing his every word.

“I had to blow up a whole base to be able to “walk free”, you do not get to judge me or the things I did before then,” Aili stated, staring at Cara with a withering look in her eyes. So much for being friends if this was all it took to cause distrust. She turned around again, her back to Cara now as she muttered to herself, “I do that plenty to myself every day.”

No one noticed Mando making half an attempt to bring a hand up to Aili's shoulder before he stopped himself. With a subtle shake of his helmet, he brought his hand back down to his side, clenching both hands into fists to stop himself from trying again.

IG-11 had walked over to them at the sound of raised voices but stood down a little when he saw Aili was comforting the child already. Mando let out a deep sigh knowing that both Cara and Aili were going to be pissed off for hours now. Not exactly two people he wanted angry on his ship, worse that they were angry with each other.

He turned to Kuiil and made sure to keep his voice even as he spoke, “Tell you what, I could really use your craftwork right now. Any way you can pad this container better so the child can sleep better?”

He knew that even though Aili had agreed to switch out when they used the cot, she spent most of her nights letting the kid sleep on the cot. He had come down from the cockpit more than once and seen her curled up on the floor in front of the cot with nothing but a blanket and one of her bags as a pillow under her head. So if Kuiil could make the kid’s cradle more comfortable, maybe then she’d actually use the cot for once. He knew it wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep but it was better than the ship floor.

“I shall fabricate a better one. Then perhaps this Dropper can see how one can win their freedom with the skill of one’s hands.”

"Thank you. We need to go over the plan again,” Mando directed the last part to Aili and Cara who were still not looking at each other. Cara wasted no time in heading for the ladder, still rubbing at her neck before she went up to the cockpit without another word.

"You two go ahead,” Aili said shortly, keeping all of her focus on Little Green for the moment, rocking him from side to side without thinking about it.

"This involves all of us,” Mando replied, barely holding back another sigh. He knew she was upset but that didn’t mean she could get out of making sure the plan was fool proof.

"Yeah well unless you think Little Green will be able to contribute somehow, someone's gonna have to get him to calm down,” Aili shot back, looking up at Mando and that was when Mando finally noticed the small amount of tears in big brown eyes. He let out another sigh before nodding.

“Okay, but once he’s asleep, come up to the cockpit.”

“Is that an order?”

Mando winced behind his helmet knowing that he had chosen the wrong thing to say if the blunt way Aili spoke said anything. He tried to fix it quickly, “A request.”

“Fine.” Some of the tension in Aili’s shoulders faded away but he could tell she was still angry. Probably would be until they reached Nevarro and then all her anger could be redirected towards the Imps that were in the city. Mando just hoped they could all make it to the planet in one piece. He shook his head once more before heading up to the cockpit, hoping that maybe he could talk to Cara before Aili rejoined them, let her know how badly she screwed up without telling her too much of what Aili had told him.

Aili watched from the corner of her eyes as Mando finally went up the ladder before she closed her eyes and let out a sigh. “Stupid,” she whispered to herself before biting her tongue to distract herself and to push away the dumb tears that had come to her eyes. Mando had been nice enough to not mention them, or just smart enough for once. Either way she was grateful.

She watched as Kuiil started to work on a new cradle for Little Green, this one round rather than a rectangle. She was perfectly fine with staying in the cargo hold while Cara and Mando were up in the cockpit trying to come up with some semblance of a plan if everything went sideways. Which it probably would like most of the things that Mando was involved in.

Aili was just trying to get the kid to go to sleep before rejoining them. She knew that was why they had brought Kuiil and IG-11 along but she couldn’t help herself. It had become a habit at this point and she wasn’t even sure if Little Green would let anyone else put him to sleep.

Kids got weirdly attached like that considering he would rarely let Mando put him down to sleep if Aili was there. It had gotten worse after the job on Tatooine which is something Mando had mentioned once and Aili couldn’t disagree with him for once. Waking up with a concussion and not knowing where Little Green was had sent her back to the base for a moment which was not a place or time she liked to think back on.

But she was also okay with any time spent avoiding Cara for a little while, the other woman’s comments had hit a little too close to home for her. The accusations had been worse, the implication that she was in any way still working for the Empire. She had thought she had made it obvious what she thought of Imps.

So to hear the comments come from someone who she had just been joking around with, someone who she had thought was her friend? Had Cara said something to Mando and that was why he was acting so weird now? She let out an annoyed sigh and tried to shake the thoughts away. She didn’t care what either of them thought of her, she knew where she stood and that was all that mattered.

“You and the Mandalorian are good together,” Kuiil stated when he paused for a break, hoping Aili would see more reason than the Mandalorian did.

“Excuse me?” Aili was pretty sure she was hearing things but she didn’t stop her rocking motion aside from a slight wobble.

“I can tell, I saw things during the Empire’s rule. Children, girls not even old enough to walk or talk yet, taken from their parents and never seen again.”

“I--” Aili hadn’t even thought that there could have been girls taken from the workers on gene farms. But it made sense, they were desperate to pay off debts and for not the first time, she wondered about her own parents. She pushed the thought away quickly, it didn’t matter to her anymore, she knew they weren’t workers on some farm. Her file had had that much information at the very least even if it didn’t have the right birth year.

“It’s not hard to spot the hard edges left by the Empire. Both of you have them for different reasons but they are very much the same,” Kuiil continued, not noticing the way Aili was almost lost in thought.

“Yes but-”

“You both round out each other’s edges. I have spoken.” Kuill said before turning back to his work before Aili could even say anything. She stared at the Ugnaught in stunned silence before a quiet coo brought her attention down to Little Green. He blinked his own big brown eyes at her like he understood and agreed with Kuiil.

“Not you too, you little womp rat,” Aili whispered to him. Little Green had the nerve to smile at her before reaching up to reach for a loose curl of hair. Aili let out a deep sigh, adjusting her grip on the kid so his head was resting against her chest and he could wrap his little hand around her hair.

She had no idea why he always had to do that but it was cute regardless of the times he accidentally tugged too hard. To her it was just like when Shaeli and Jaesa were younger and couldn't sleep. If Mando only knew how many times she had slept in the Covert that first year, one or both of the girls piled on top of her so they could sleep soundly to the sound of her heart beat.

It took another couple of minutes before Little Green fell asleep deeply enough for Aili to put him down in the cot, tucking a blanket around him. A couple minutes too long for her to be alone with her thoughts and the comments Kuiil had made. She knew how Mando felt about her, probably felt about her, she corrected herself. It wasn’t like they had sat down afterwards and discussed their feelings but she was sure she had picked up on it anyway. The helmet could only hide his expressions but not his actions or body language.

She just didn’t know how she actually felt about him. It wasn’t like she had any kind of previous relationship experience to fall back on, none of her experience had come from a place of emotion of any kind. She knew she loved the girls but that was obviously different, they saw her as their older sister or in Shaeli and Jaesa’s case as their mother. But romantically? She didn’t know what that would feel like even if it was right in front of her.

With a deep sigh, she glanced at Little Green once more before shutting the hatch and giving Kuiil one last nod, she headed up to the cockpit to help with planning. Anything to keep another child from the Empire’s grasp.

“So we’re heading to Nevarro?” She walked in as soon as Cara asked Mando.

“Have you ever been?”

Cara shook her head, “No, we lost a lot of forces there.”

“You’re not missing much,” Aili muttered as she took her usual seat. “Rocks and lava, that’s about it.”

“Hey, I’m sorry about the shit I said down there.” To her credit, Cara actually did seem sorry about what she had said to Aili. It made some of the anger Aili was still holding fade away, but not much. She knew better than most that things said in anger were things you thought while not angry as well.

“It’s fine,” Aili said with a small shrug before trying to deflect the conversation. “You were saying about during the war?”

“Um, yeah, the city’s dug in pretty deep which I’m sure you both know already. So no cover when you drop in. It stayed in Empire control until the war was over.” Cara explained while continuing to clean the blaster rifle she had chosen from the weapons locker earlier. Aili hadn’t even noticed her taking it up the ladder with her but then again, she had her back to the woman at the moment.

“The warlord we’re taking out was an Imperial officer.”

“What station?” Cara asked. She didn’t know very much about how the Empire worked but she was willing to bet that between her and Aili they could figure it out.

“Hard to tell. No insignia anymore. I took out the safehouse when I snatched the kid. More Imps have reinforced since.”

Cara and Aili shared a quick glance before Cara spoke again, “There’s something more going on.”

“I agree, something doesn’t feel right. Imperial officers didn’t do their own dirty work during the war, why would they now? What was this guy’s name again?” Aili hadn’t known officers that were high ranking that would also do their own work. Even the Emperor had other people to do his bidding, it was the whole reason the Program existed. And she had even heard about some group called Inquisitors but they had a whole different hierarchy and she had never met one before.

“I only knew him as the Client.”

“Hmm, definitely something else going on,” Aili said, brow furrowed in thought now.

“Maybe. We’ll find out more when we land.” The cockpit doors opened before Mando could continue and IG-11 stepped in, stopping right beside Aili and Cara meaning he was right behind Mando. Aili cringed knowing Mando wouldn’t like that at all.

“I have prepared second meal. Would you care to be served here or below?”

Mando slowly turned to look at the droid and Aili could just about see the anger coming off of him before he turned back around. “I’m not hungry.”

IG-11 paused for half a second before backing out of the cockpit.

“Under no circumstances does that thing leave the ship,” Mando said stiffly once the cockpit doors were closed again.

“You’ve got a real thing for droids, don’t you?” Cara laughed, finally done checking over and cleaning the rifle.

“I got a real thing for that droid.”

“Mando, you shot at pit droids not too long ago.” Aili raised an eyebrow that Mando couldn’t see with his back to her but she hoped he could hear the tone in her voice.

“Yeah, I’m not going near that one but the Ugnaught said he rewired this one,” Cara said even as she furrowed her brow at the thought of Mando shooting at a pit droid. Those were the most harmless of droids that she had ever seen. They literally only had one job and that was to help fix ships. If there was one thing the Razor Crest needed, it was pit droids to fix half the things wrong with it.

“That droid was designed to kill things, I don’t care how much wiring he replaced. It goes against its nature.”

Aili knew it was stupid but Mando’s choice of words didn’t sit right with her. Not because she cared about the droid in any way. She hadn’t been around the droid long enough to care about it anymore than she cared about the last blaster she bought. But with Cara’s earlier comments still running through her head, Mando’s comment despite not being about her added to her earlier feelings.

“It shouldn’t be a long job anyway. We take out the head Imp, the rest will run like rats,” Cara grinned wide before getting up to get that meal that IG-11 had made. No point in going into a fight on an empty stomach.

Mando and Aili sat in silence, nothing but the stars of hyperspace passing by them for a long moment. “You were only talking about the droid, right?”

“What?” Mando asked, turning around to look at Aili. Behind his helmet, he was giving her a confused look that she couldn’t see.

“I-nevermind,” she said quickly before pushing herself out of her chair. “I’m going to head down for some food, you sure you don’t want any?”

“Not if the droid made it.”

“Of course, can’t trust food made by a killing machine,” Aili said before walking out of the cockpit before Mando could reply to her. He sat there in silent confusion wondering what he had said now that had made her mad. He went through everything he had said about the droid. The only thing he had said was that it was designed to kill things and no rewiring would change its nature.

“Dank farrik,” he hissed out to himself. Every time he thinks he can’t put his foot in his mouth again, he does. He could understand how she could misinterpret his words especially since he knew how she was raised pretty much since birth. Probably thought that made her no better than a hunter droid sometimes and now she had both Cara and him make comments that made it seem like they thought that of her.

He checked the solar clock on the console and wondered if he had time to fix his latest screw up before they reached Nevarro. He let out another curse when he saw that they had barely any time before they would drop out of hyperspace, maybe a few solar hours. He was about to get up to go find her when there was a knock at the cockpit door but no one came in. With a confused tilt of his helmet, he went to the door to find a small plate of food sitting on the ground.

There was a small bit of flimsiplast laying on top of it with a note written on it that simply said “Not made by a droid, eat it” in handwriting that Mando didn’t recognize. But only one person on board the Crest would even bother with the note let alone one demanding he eat it. He bent down to pick up the food, now even more confused than before but he would admit to himself that he was hungry and he doubted Aili would lie about the droid not touching this food. With one last look towards the ladder that led to the cargo hold he retreated back into the cockpit and after making sure the door was locked, he ate the food she had left for him.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x original character #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x oc

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khadij-al-kubra · 4 years

Text

Worst Impressions are the First (ch 7)

Main Characters: Logan, Patton, Roman, Virgil (Human AU)

Pairings: Romantic LAMP

Word Count: 5036

AO3

<=PREV

NEXT=>

Author’s (longer than usual but it’s for good reason) Note: *The Apocalypse—2020. Zoom in on a plague rat turned writer. She has survived thesis projects, getting a Master’s degree, burnout, writing and illustrating a children’s book, being a slave for the U.S. census bureau, months of overthinking anxiety spirals, and one or two incidents involving an asshole skunk. But now, battle weary yet unwavering in her love of art and love for her loyal readers, this onesie-clad tea slurping book dragon....has finally arisen from the ashes*

I LIVE BITCHES!!!!!!! And I am SO SORRY for taking so long!!! I’ve been hard at work, been editing like a mad woman, and I even have a beta now! The gorgeous and talented @humbletortoise So I am OFFICIALLY off hiatus!!! *cue confetti canon*

Also, one of the biggest reasons I’ve taken so long to update is because I’ve spent the past month or so essentially retconning the fuck outta this fic. I realized looking back at earlier chapters in this story that, although I was proud of them at the time and greatly appreciate the positive reactions, they were...not my best work. (shitty first drafts if I’m being honest) That’s because, at the time, I was trying to split my attention between writing this fic and working on grad school stuff, which resulted in my writing for this not being as best of quality as it could have been upon first posting. This story deserves my best, and so do all of you. So now I hope to give you that.

I encourage you to go back and re-read the previous chapters up till now (trust me, they’re near unrecognizable to the first drafts, but in the best way). Or if you don’t feel like doing that, you can just continue on from here. totally cool. For the sake of convenience and my own sanity, I’ll attach the AO3 Link to this fic from the start. I may also start just posting chapter updates on tumblr but only have the link to the chapter and add my reader tags. Again, for the sake of my sanity because Tumblr is a bastard when it comes to posting fics. (Also PLEASE let me know if there are any tagging issues if anyone’s on my tags list; yet another reason i’m considering just linking my fics in the future)

Anywho, without further ado, at LOOOOOONG last, here is the next chapter!

Chapter 7 - (POV Roman)

When Roman had offered to walk with Logan to class, it was only partly out of an innate sense of chivalry; a side of himself that he rarely got to show on account of being a socially awkward gay disaster. Though mainly, he saw it as a chance to get to know his second soulmate better.

He certainly hadn’t expected two long minutes of civil but silent walking. Well, as silent as a stroll through their school could be with its usual racket buzzing around them. With a vocabulary as big as the continents of Africa and Eurasia combined, you’d think Logan would be more of a conversationalist. Alas. He merely walked in step with Roman. They glanced over at each other every so often, but Logan stayed tight lipped and seemingly impassive; fiddling with his bumblebee hair pin every now and again. Damn. Looked like he was going to have to make the first move.

Roman was bad at this. How did people usually…Oh yeah, common interest. That’s a thing. He wracked his brain for some sort of ice breaker. One that’d make him look cool and calm or, something, in front of Logan. He was a fairly decent student though not quite mathletes level. He could compliment his outfit maybe? Was that too forward? Too shallow? Maybe he could find common ground? That was as good a place to start as any.

“So! So uhh…What kind of music do you like?” Roman asked. Yeah, that’s good. Everybody likes music.

Logan glanced at him. “Can you be more specific?”

Roman’s brow furrowed. “I mean, like, your favorite genre of music to listen to?”

“Classical,” said Logan in a clipped tone.

“That’s cool. I don’t really listen to classical myself.”

Logan only hummed, his face neutral. Roman was really hoping for more than that. A few awkward seconds passed, then Logan spoke up.

“Are you perhaps a fan of the classic Sherlock Holmes novels?” He inquired.

“Um, I haven’t gotten around to the books yet, actually,” Roman said, scratching his earlobe. “I mean, I’ve heard great things about them. And I’m a big fan of the Robert Downey Jr. movies.”

“Ah. I see.” Logan said, giving him the judgiest side eye.

Come on, Roman thought. Give me something to work with. “Oh! What about theater?”

“What a frustratingly vague inquiry.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to get to know my soulmate a little better.” Ay come jode, work with me here, man!

Logan sighed. “While I understand and appreciate your intention, I believe ‘getting to know someone’ as you put it, requires a certain level of specificity. Anything less indicates a somewhat shallow level of sincere interest, and I greatly despise shallow conversation. That said, if you’re inquiring as to whether or not I enjoy theater, no. I don’t understand the concept of professional make believe, though I appreciate it as an art form. I assume you’re a fan?”

Is he seriously implying I’m shallow? Roman groused, pushing his red frames up the bridge of his nose. Ugh, forget it Roman. He’s throwing you a bone here. Take it.

“Obviously,” said Roman, gesturing dramatically. “I mean I’m no actor—Eesh. No. Yikes—but everything about the artform enthralls me. And I like all kinds of genres and eras of plays, from Shakespear to Ruhl, but musicals are by far my favorite, because like, there’s so much you can do with them design wise. I mean just look at how groundbreaking Hamilton was.”

For a second, Logan’s face actually softened, his eyes lighting up. But just as Roman thought they were finally about to make some progress, his stony companion was back to wearing that platinum puss.

“Ah. How… original.”

Roman blinked. “Are you saying my tastes are basic?”

“Well, yes.”

Augh! Okay. Yep. I don’t like him. Patton was going to be so disappointed, and Roman was too. He’d wanted so badly to get along with all his soulmates, but Logan was a snob! Way less intimidating than Virgil and his ilk, but still a jerk. I wonder if soulmarks can make typos or something? Thank the stars they’d already arrived.

Roman and Logan filed in with the rest of the class for seventh period. Somebody had the liberty of opening a window– the AC was still busted in this classroom– so for once there was actually a decent breeze cutting through the usual mucky Florida humidity. Still smelled like it would probably rain later. Good thing Roman had packed an umbrella just in case, Mom’s orders. His hair looked too good today to be wrecked by frizz.

Roman took a seat at his desk, running distracted fingers over the carved letters in the wood while he mulled over his predicament. Just look at him over there, thought Roman as he glared at Logan, not two rows away from him. Sitting with his hands clasped on the desk all smug—of course he’d be near the front—and with such disturbingly good posture. What is he, a robot? Who is he to call my interests basic, the NERVE! And okay, sure, like Hamilton, sometimes I get over excited and shoot off at the mouth. But great Zeus, does that guy show passion for ANYTHING besides academics? Roman blew a raspberry, plopping his head in his hands.

He always thought soulmates were supposed to get along, even as just friends for life. Balancing each other out, bringing out the best in you and forming a deep connection—that was the whole point. He sighed to himself. Cymbals clashed less than he and Logan did.

He was stirred from his brooding by the bell. Apparently Mr. ‘Call-me-Terrence’ Williams had materialized without him noticing. Okay fine, he should probably pay more attention, but he was having a crisis here.

“Afternoon everyone,” Terrence greeted in that measured, upbeat tone of his.

He draped his navy blue blazer over the back of his desk chair and rolled his shirt sleeves to the elbows. Roman pitied the poor guy; he had to teach sauna of a classroom all day. He could see the glisten of sweat on his teacher's smooth forehead as he wrote things on the board. Yet he still kept a pleasant attitude towards his students.

“Alright class!” Terrence started, “Today we’re covering the next section on the American Revolution. Specifically, the Battle of Yorktown...”

Roman mentally punched the air. My time has come. He opened his textbook to the right page but didn’t bother looking at it. He already knew most everything about Yorktown. Not just because he’d listened to the Hamilton soundtrack fifteen and a half million times, but also because he’d done actual research on the event and time period that the musical took place; There was always the off chance he’d get to stage crew or, heck, even dramaturg the show. He liked to be prepared.

“So the battle of Yorktown took place in 1781, but a great deal of its success was thanks to the French Allies. Many especially aided in fighting the British Troops surrounding New York. Now who can tell me where the French Soldiers first landed?”

Roman half raised his hand. He was pretty sure he knew the answer.

“Logan.” Terrence called.

Roman turned to Logan desk, where his hand was held high and mighty.

“The French Ally ships first landed in Rhode Island, then made their way to Chesapeake Bay,” said Logan, adjusting his glasses. Not even a hint of second guessing in his voice.

“That’s right!”

He almost missed the quick smirk on Logan’s frustratingly pretty face. Look at that smug—thinks he’s so smart...Okay yes, he is smart, but he doesn’t have to be a show off about it. Terrence continued through the passages, calling on a student every now and again to review. Of course, Logan got called on most and he got every answer right. Roman didn’t feel like raising his hand anymore.

“Of course there were many turning points in the revolution, but Hamilton’s return to the field for Yorktown was a key point.” Terrence continued on. “And keep in mind- this was a man who up till now had never been in a position of command before. Not to mention the mental strains he must’ve been under, especially having had to miss the birth of his son Philip, the first of three children he had.”

Wait a sec. “Well, that’s not right.”

Even though he’d muttered, apparently Mr. Terrence still heard him. “Come again, Roman?”

Shoot. “Um, I said,” Stop sounding timid, you know you’re right. “I said that was, um, wrong.”

The whole class turned to him. Oh great, history class has its eyes on me. Roman cleared his throat and tried to look taller.

“What I mean is: Hamilton had eight kids, not three. And on top of that, Phillip was born a few months after they won the Revolution, not during, so Hamilton didn’t miss the birth of his son. I mean sure, it’s a small thing, but the devil’s in the details as they say. Heh.”

Terrence gave the most insultingly bemused look. And Roman definitely heard a few kids snickering behind him. He glanced quickly at the culprits and felt his ears go hot. This is what he got for putting himself in the spotlight.

“Roman, I applaud you for participating in the class discussion,” Their teacher started gently, “but I’m afraid you’re wrong on this one. If you read your textbook close you’d see in the fifth paragraph where it mentions from one of his later letters—“

“Actually Mr. Williams, if I may, Roman is correct.”

Roman saw Logan at his desk, one hand raised while the other adjusted his neck scarf. Was the teacher’s pet actually… backing him up?

“It is a common misconception that Alexander Hamilton only had two children, even more so modernly, what with the musical having only named two of them. However Roman has clearly done his research on the plays historical accuracies, which is more than I can say for some.”

Logan shot a cool but scathing look at their recently snickering classmates and they withered. Roman fought the urge to point and laugh aloud. He did however stick his tongue out real quick. What? He could be shy and petty at the same time.

“My guess,” Logan continued, “is that this textbook edition is also either misprinted or outdated, judging by the publication date in the copyright section.”

Brows furrowed, Terrence looked at the textbook laid open on his desk. He flipped back to the front, before pulling out his cellphone—“I’m the teacher, I’m allowed to do this. You guys aren’t.”—and after what Roman guessed was a quick Google search, their teacher looked up. His eyebrows drawn in a ‘hm, well damn’ expression.

“Looks like you’re right, Roman. And thank you Logan for bringing to my attention about the textbooks. I’ll have to talk to the principal about hopefully getting some updated materials. But we’ll see how that goes,” Terrence, muttered the last part, though Roman was close enough to catch it. Terrence cleared his throat and moved back to the board. “Maybe if we call on assistance from the inside. Much like how the Sons of Liberty sent in Hercules Mulligan to spy on the British...”

“Perhaps if we knew of an immigrant who was unafraid to step in,” Logan said just under his breath.

No one else seemed to notice the reference, but when Roman did, he felt like a mini volcano about to burst rainbow lava. Apparently there was a lot more to his soulmate than first meets the eye; and now that he knew, Roman was determined to see more of it. The rest of class passed quickly and everyone filed out to the halls as the first bell for the last class period of the day rang. Roman made sure to catch up to Logan on the way out and staccato tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Logan?” He said.

When Logan turned, he swore time slowed down for a moment. The brilliant boy’s skirt flared around his waist, and somehow his skin glowed even under the dull, inconsistent school lights. His posture was erect yet natural, he could have been raised among nobility. Amidst the stench and clamor of loud sweaty students, Logan was as poised and striking as the goddess Athena. Oh...

“Yes, Roman?” Logan asked.

Roman gulped. “I uh, just wanted to thank you for backing me up in there.”

“Thanks are unnecessary,” Logan said. “I detest when someone is shamed by other students for speaking up in class, regardless of whether or not they have the correct information.”

“Well regardless, thanks for coming to my aid in the face of academic danger.”

“Dramatic, but my pleas—oof!”

A hurried passerby bumped into Logan from behind, rushing off with a half-assed ‘sorry’. Logan, caught off guard, stumbled right into Roman’s arms. The two looked at each other, cheeks filling with heat. Roman caught a whiff of something faintly floral on Logan, something natural– a lavender and honeysuckle perfume, perhaps. It was heavenly. They were still in the middle of foot traffic though, so he maneuvered them to the side. Which was tricky since Logan was still so close to him and also a good two inches taller with the heels.

“Well,” Roman flashed his pearly whites. “Seems you’ve fallen for me.”

Logan pulled away, but his lips quirked upwards in a teasing smirk. “Oh please, I merely stumbled into you.”

“Ah, but stumbling is the first step towards being swept off your feet.”

“Bold words from an abashedly charming homunculus in such an… eye catching ensemble.”

Did he call me charming!? He composed himself, “Hey, don’t let the sweater vest fool you. I may be short but I’ve got guns.”

“Aaah. But mind over muscle, as they say. Do you find yourself up to the task?”

“Only if it’s you, my brainy blossom.”

Roman’s class was in the other direction, but Logan didn’t need to know that. They walked through the halls, conversing. class was still in the next ten or so minutes, but Roman was having fun. Banter with Logan felt surprisingly easy. Natural like they’d been at it all their lives.

“By the way, was that a ‘Guns n’ Ships’ reference I overheard, pastel poindexter?” Roman asked.

Logan cleared his throat. “It… may have been, yes. I found myself unable to resist toppling the figurative dominos.”

“In other words, you seized the opportunity you saw,” Roman said, matching his own reference to the source’s cadence, which got a chuckle out of Logan.

“Precisely. Under more casual circumstances, I may have even recited Lafayette’s part.”

“You can rap? You can rap Guns n’ Ships? Like, the whole thing, no tongue twists?”

Logan stopped for a moment, turned to Roman. The taller boy cleared his throat, and after a moment wherein he seemed to mentally restrain himself, he simply adjusted his glasses. “I have an appreciation for poetry.”

Roman blinked rapidly. Holy shit, he’s an even bigger nerd than I am. He definitely needed to see that at some point.

They turned a corner, stopping just outside of the science room. Some students were going in to take their seats, and the teacher was already making notes on the board. Logan pulled an AP Physics book from his backpack, but made no move to leave, much to Roman’s delight.

“So then,” Roman leaned against the eggshell wall, “How come you acted so indifferent earlier and called my tastes basic? Oh, and I think I remember you also implied I was shallow?”

Okay, yeah, he was still kind of salty about that. But then he saw the shamed look on the nerd’s face, and Roman wished he could have taken it back. Logan looked at his shoes then back at him.

“To be candid I was… hesitant to show the full extent of my enthusiasm. In case you thought I’d be—I believe ‘being the most’ is the term— it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve caused someone to lose interest in conversing with me due to informational overload. I nearly bored my Aunt Patricia to sleep once talking about a fascinating article on jellyfish. And considering how I blundered our initial meeting—“

“Pfft, ya think?” He mentally slapped himself again when Logan went tight-lipped and turned to go. “No, no, wait. I—I’m sorry. Truly. ...Truth is, I was no gentleman either. I’m not always great at thinking before I speak. It’s why I’m so awkward around people. Takes a while for my true charming nature to shine through.”

“Clearly. Still, you show a level of interpersonal aptitude that I, well, lack.” Logan fiddled with his hair pin again and a stray hair came loose. “Reading people and expressing emotions has never really been—It’s something I struggle with.”

Much as Logan tried to maintain his cool composed posturing, Roman could tell that this was something that really bothered him. He tried so hard to seem put together and confident and serious, but really he was just as awkward and insecure as anyone. Roman smiled softly and stepped closer to Logan, reaching up to tuck the loose ebony strand behind his ear.

“Hey, everyone’s got things about themselves they can work on. Including me,” Roman smiled. “And believe me when I say that I will never judge you for being passionate about something you like. So if you ever want someone to ramble about jellyfish or Sweeney Todd to or—I dunno, calculators or something?—I’m all ears.”

Logan’s cheeks went pink and he gave a hesitant yet sincere smile. “That’s...very kind of you, Roman. And coincidentally, I also greatly enjoy Sweeney Todd. The use of iambic pentameter and alliteration to give a succinct synopsis to the story in just the first sentence alone is pure brilliance.”

“Right!? I mean the man’s a mad genius. I’m dying to design sets for one of his musicals someday. Like last year? I came up with the concept of having the Sweeney Todd sets done in a way that highlights the class differences with the characters.” Roman went into a small three minute ramble regarding the specifics before he cut himself off abruptly. Logan was blinking rapidly, a look of mild shock crossing his feature. Roman nearly started sweating; Had he messed this up again?

“That… that’s ingenious”

Roman’s ears were burning. Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!

“Hey, Logan!” They both startled and turned to an impatient cheerleader with a ginger undercut and they/them pronoun pin shaped like a coffin. “What’re you doing just standing out in the hall, ya dork? Oh, hey Roman.”

“Uh. Hey, October,” Roman said, waving awkwardly to them.

“I told ya, Red, you only get to call me that when we’re working on a show.”

“Wait, October? Red? You two know each other?” Logan asked, brow arching.

“Kind of. They sometimes help out with costumes for the drama club,” said Roman. And they have terrible timing. I mean seriously Tobes, we were having a moment.

“Come on Lo, class is about to start, and you promised to go over my homework with me real quick beforehand. See ya ‘round, Ro.” Toby grabbed Logan’s hand and pulled him into the classroom. “You can fill me in on what you were doing with Red later.”

Logan followed his—apparently—friend into their classroom, but he shot Roman an apologetic look over his shoulder. Roman bounced a bit on the balls of his feet before following halfway into the room. Logan was in his seat with Toby showing him an open notebook. A teacher in a tight grey hair bun was writing on the board. Students at their seats were chatting, and some looked up at the short dork in red who burst in. For once Roman ignored them, his mind set on one last attempt at wooing his green skirted genius while he still had the nerve.

“Hey, Logan,” he said. “I’ve also got some great layout designs for an Into the Woods set. If you’re interested, maybe we can meet up after school and I can show them to you? Maybe we talk a bit more over iced lattes or something?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Prince, seventh period starts in five minutes,” said the teacher. “Unless you’ve suddenly transferred to my class, I suggest you stop distracting my favorite student and get going.”

“I’ll be gone in just a second,” he said. “Well?”

Logan smoothed the silky fabric of his pink scarf and said, “That sounds optimal, Roman. I’ll meet with you. By the first floor water fountain perhaps?”

Roman grinned. “I shall be counting the minutes.”

“Mr. Prince,” said the teacher with a warning glare.

Roman blew a kiss at Logan and then ducked out of the doorway. Was he embarrassed of himself? Oh definitely. Did he regret it? Absolutely not. He felt ten inches tall.

Now to complete the quest of making it to class in time. He slid off a shoulder strap to unzip his classic Mickey backpack, getting out the notebook and the relevant homework. He found them amidst the mess of spiral notebooks, granola bar wrappers, two textbooks and rainbow sticky notes. But something was missing from his folder.

“Where are those– it should be here.” He could’ve sworn he had his stapled the blocking notes in his folder. No, wait, the last place he saw them was— “Ah shoot! I left them in the tech closet again.”

Under normal circumstances, Roman would’ve grabbed them after school, but the auditorium was locked on weekends. He’d have to wait till Monday to get them and that just wouldn't do! he wanted to show Logan his notes today! I’ll bet David Korins never has these kinds of problems. Okay, okay. Still got four minutes. He could rush to the auditorium, grab the notes, and then head straight to class. I should have enough time, right? Right. Besides it was only Spanish Class, he was already pretty fluent after all those summers visiting his grandparent in Nicaragua. He spent most of class time dreaming up blocking notes anyway.

Despite not being totally convinced by his own argument, Roman immediately turned on his heel and started running in the opposite direction. After a teacher told him no running in the halls, Roman power walked through the halls with a skip in his step and a song in his heart, feeling absolutely gay in both senses of the word. Logan had actually called his idea ingenious! And the way those sharp eyes softened just for him- he would squeal if not for the fact that it would draw too many eyes to him. The halls were still filled with a few stragglers rushing to the last class of the day, and he was already trying not to get caught being late for class.

Now he knew how Maria felt in West Side Story. Y’know, before Act 2. Oh sure, they’d gotten off to a shaky start, but as the Bard’s adage on the course of true love said; and Roman felt it in his gut that this was certainly the start of true love. Not just with brilliant Logan but also with soulful Patton as well. He didn’t know how an awkward geek like him ever got so lucky in the soulmate department…Then again, there was still the matter of Virgil. So maybe not so lucky.

Roman touched his arm, remembered flustered yet flattering purple words. I know they both said Virgil is secretly sweet and I can sympathize with the terrors of closet town, but COME ON! Virgil? Really? That gloomy gladiator? There had to be a mistake in that. After all, Patton liked to see the good in everyone. Logan was much more of a skeptic, but he does seem to have a blind spot with sarcasm. Maybe Virgil was messing with them somehow. Even if he’s not a jerk jock, the guy’s still kind of a creepazoid; with his dark eyes and cheeta-esq gait and those probably huge muscles hidden under that bulky jacket and big hands...

His gay disaster train of thought came to a merciful halt as he reached the auditorium. Roman pushed open the doors, took a pause to breathe in the quiet comfort of this chapel of the arts. Okay yeah, chapel was maybe a little kind for the school’s auditorium which doubled as the drama Club’s rehearsal space/prop closet backstage/Mx Joan’s unofficial office because the school didn’t fund the arts programs enough. Even so this space was Roman’s sanctuary. The place where he could help create magic from the shadows, bring stories of those gone and living to life. Here, Roman found something of a community with his fellow backstagers, glee club losers, and budding thespians (the nice ones). So he loved every squeaky stage plank, every duck taped seat cushion and every speck of dust that floated in the spot lit air like fairies.

Mx. Joan wasn’t around for once, thankfully. Probably in the teacher’s lounge or rendezvousing with the school nurse or something. They were pretty chill and Roman knew he was their favorite student, but the choir director/drama club moderator/music teacher (this school really needs to fix its funding habits) wouldn’t have been too keen on Roman being deliberately late for class.

Roman walked down the aisle and to the side room by the stage. It was originally a janitor’s closet, but their club moderator transformed it into a ‘Crew Only’ Storage Unit… Okay it was still a closet, but with less bleach and more coils. This was where they kept important equipment for semester shows, like the lighting and sound boards, along with other supplies. Roman made a quick mental note to get more gaffer tape later, seeing their supply was low.

He looked through the small pile of scribbled and highlighted sheets with the lighting cues for the spring show. I’ve really gotta get a binder for these…Ah-Ha! Here you are! Roman pulled out the stapled sheets titled ‘Into the Woods Dream Set’ and carefully shoved them into his bag. Perfect timing too. He might just be able to make it to class after—

RIIIIIIIIIIING

“GAH!”

What the heck? He could’ve sworn he was alone in there, but that yelp just now said otherwise. Up close, Roman saw that the curtains were rustling, accompanied by sounds of heavy breathing and moaning, yet not a footstep to be seen or heard.

Holy SHIT, this place IS haunted! I KNEW that backdrop fiasco last semester wasn’t caused by cheap slit plywood. My supplies are the best quality allowance money can buy. Great Macbeth’s bloody knife, I TOLD Kai we should've sprung for a ghost light! Remus always teased him for being superstitious but look who’s laughing now.

He dashed back into the crew closet and grabbed the heavy push broom leaning in the corner. Roman Prince was NOT about to be caught unawares and possessed by the ghost of a disgruntled student without a fight. He would defend his domain of imagination!

Roman slowly climbed the stage steps, wielding his broom like a bow staff, turned the curtain corner where the noises were coming from and was about to release a war cry on the—

“Virgil?”

Roman nearly dropped his weapon at the sight of Virgil Alighieri—star athlete, object of his fears and supposed soulmate—curled in on himself trembling and crying.

His jacket was pulled over his head like a hood, yet Roman could see the tear stained face peeking out from underneath. Virgil’s eyes were squeezed tight, making the dark circles he’d never noticed before more prominent. There was no denying the athlete had muscle but he was more lithe—thin enough for Roman to wonder if the guy ate enough. Virgil’s trembling could rival a chihuahua, shaky hands clutching his knees, and he was clearly in the midst of a bad panic attack.

Roman had built Virgil up in his mind as being like some odd combination of Hades and Ares. The strong silent wolf within his pack of jocks, a surging thunderstorm just waiting for the right nerd to come along and piss him off enough to strike down like the bolt of Zeus.

Someone to be afraid of.

But now? Seeing him in this state, all alone and whimpering like a wounded animal...it broke Roman’s heart.

He set the broom down gently and carefully crouched down in front of Virgil. “Virgil,” he said softly. “Virgil, can you hear me?”

Virgil let out a breathy sob but otherwise didn’t seem to register him. Just how long had he been sitting here like this?

Roman was at a loss for what to do. Sure he knew plenty of people with anxiety but never saw someone having an actual panic attack before. He did know that if he didn’t help the other calm down soon, Virgil was liable to pass out. He’d never wanted to hug someone so badly in his life. Roman tentatively reached out a hand but stopped. What if touching him makes it worse? What if I startle him so badly he actually has a heart attack!? Maybe I should get the nurse. But I can’t just leave him like this.

He caught sight of the colorful soulmarks written on Virgil’s arm. Saw his own harsh thoughts: ’Dios mio, he’s staring right at me—like he wants to punch my face!’

Roman took his shame and forged it into steel. I won’t abandon you...my soulmate.

Virgirl’s let out a hiccuped cry, and this gave Roman an idea. Something from back when he was a child. It was probably stupid and a long stretch, but it was all he could think of. He readjusted himself so that he was now sitting right next to Virgil, making sure not to startle him. Roman cleared his throat, then as softly as he could, he began to sing.

“Come stop your crying, it’ll be alright.

Just take my hand, hold it tight.”

Roman one and carefully gentled his hand over Virgil’s. After a moment, he felt a light squeeze, and that encouraged him to keep going.

“I will protect you from all around you.

I will be here, don’t you cry…”

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charlthotte · 3 years

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Breaking Through The Iron Wall - Aone Takanobu x Reader

Chapter 4

The squeak of trainers stubbing themselves on the gym floor echoed throughout the massive establishment. Around a dozen boys in volleyball uniforms were scattered around the court, spiking and blocking balls with ungodly strength. It was truly mesmerising seeing a spherical piece of foam being smashed around the court at an immense velocity, even when their hands met with the ball - the force didn't phase them one bit. That was truly amazing.

Futakuchi must have noticed myself and Aone entering the gym through the corner of his eye, he immediately dropped the ball he held in his hands. Soon, his annoying smirk regained its composure upon his face. "What is their highness doing here? We are but a simple sports club, after all." That boy seemed to poke bucket loads of fun out of messing with people. Tired of his jests, I folded my arms and sighed, feeling rather ticked off my his words. At that moment, Aone must have sent him a look, as Futakuchi soon came to his senses and asked me a question. A question that was certainly very out of the blue. "So... Your highness, it seems that our team is in need of a manager; seeing as though our last manager - Nametsu - is in Greece because of a foreign exchange program."

"And what am I meant to do about that?" I replied curtly.

"Well, pretty, pretty please could you be our new manager?" He spoke in the voice of a little girl, furiously batting his eyelashes whilst swaying from side to side, with his hands cupping his face.

"I'm sorry but I don't know much about volleyball. Wouldn't someone else be better at the job other than me?" I inquired, seriously confused.

"However, I do see that Aone was the one to bring you here, and you wouldn't want to disappoint him, would you? Futakuchi's face switched from that of a child to his devilish smirk, knowing the right buttons to press in order for me to accept his offer.

"Wouldn't you need the captain's approval first?" I asked, trying to worm my way out of being the manager in any way possible. "Or the coach?"

He snickered, "I see what you're doing. Moniwa! Coach Oiwake! Come here!" He belted across the gym, beckoning his hands towards himself. A boy with choppy, black hair wearing the number 2 and a man with his hair slicked back with a stern disposition made their ways towards Futakuchi. There weren't going to be any chances for escape after that.

The captain seemed as if he didn't want to entertain Futakuchi and what he was going to say. Everyone was probably thinking that too.

"Captain..." Futakuchi cooed, falling into his childlike state again, "Don't you think it'd be great if this person here became our manager, they've already met Aone and myself?"

"Don't ask me leading questions, Futakuchi. It is their choice to join anyway." The captain turned towards me, shooting me a look of compassion. I did need to join a club, but none I had came across interested me. If I did want to join, I would have already known people, which was obviously a bonus. Pondering for a little longer, I wondered what clubs Hiroko and Rea did? Surely they'd be less demanding than being a manager. Futakuchi also wouldn't be a part of their clubs. Seeing his grimace each day, would have surely drained me.

I nodded in appreciation towards the captain. "Thank you. I'm not acquainted with the rules of volleyball, so I don't think I'd be the best fit."

Once again, Futakuchi started to open his mouth, "But Moniwa! There hasn't been a single other applicant for the position, and we could teach them over time." I could tell he wasn't going to give up anytime soon, the thought of that and how draining his consistent begging would be, I began to cave.

"Maybe you could give me until tomorrow to think about it? I think I'd make the better decision if I think it over properly" However, I knew all too well that no would probably still had been the answer.

"Yeah, that's completely fine. I'm Moniwa Kaname by the way." He held out his hand before me.

"Thanks, (L/N) (F/N)." I then took his hand in mine and shook it, and his grip was certainly more intense than any I had felt before. "Goodbye, I'll see you tomorrow." I swiftly turned around and headed for the outside, wanting to be out of that situation.

And of course, Futakuchi had one more thing to say, "You better say yes, your highness!" Turning around again, my face met his and glared at him, and I ushered him away with a curt wave of my hand. That thing was infuriating. I tried to keep my walking at its fastest pace possible so I wouldn't be in view of the gym anymore. From checking my watch I noticed I had a decent amount of time before my train came, so maybe I'd do a bit more reading when I arrived at the station.

Walking down, my velocity was set at a mere saunter compared to the jog this morning, the afternoon air hitting my face making me feel somewhat refreshed. My head remained empty for the rest of my stroll, there was no need to think, I was walking down the path solitaire - just admiring whatever new things came into my view. Seeing as though, I didn't really get the chance to that morning. This place was just a completely different world compared to my last hometown.

After arriving at the station, I set my bag down beside me and fumbled around inside it for my book. I had read quite a large portion of its contents earlier, the new page about the oak-leaved geranium. Giving it to someone would mean that you believe that your friendship with the recipient was true, so true that your bond could never be broken. It could also mean that you believe that your friendship outshines every other one in existence. Once again, I thought how beautiful it was that something so powerful could be expressed with something so delicate, something that could easily die if not taken care of. Maybe that was the whole concept behind the language, if you let the flower die - the meaning of the flower would die with it. I sat in thought for minutes more, contemplating the meaning of things we can and could say.

Not so long into the future, the train pulled up. Sparsely packed and there didn't seem to be anything wrong with the vehicle's integrity, quite a pleasant situation - given the shenanigans of the earlier hours of the day. I plonked my body down onto a seat by myself, gazing out the window, this time my thoughts interrupted by the choice I had to make. 'Should I join? But what if there's a person better fitted to the job and they don't get the chance. After all, their original manager was still joined onto the club, she could still come back. But that meant my job wouldn't last that long." I thought to myself, waffling on and on inside my head - almost panicking in a place where nobody could hear. I just couldn't seem to calm my subconscious down by even one peg. I regret to say that the rest of the journey, my mind stayed locked in the state of internal pandaemonium.

I hopped off the train, my head still stirring inside of me. I didn't even acknowledge my parents when I came through the door, I simply clambered up the stairs and flopped straight onto my bed, my head drowned into my pillow. Only coming out for air when I realised what I had said to myself earlier. I'd simply ask Hiroko what clubs her and Rea were in. Propping myself upon my headboard, I typed the digits I had been given by Hiroko.

"Hey Hiroko. It's (Y/N), just a quick question. What clubs are you and Rea in?"

It barely took her thirty seconds to reply.

"Hey!!!!!! I'm with Rea right now! She is in the computing club but she ditches everyday :( I'm in the rowing club but we can't take anymore members. Why'd you ask?

"I've been asked to manage the boys' volleyball team, but I don't really want to."

"OMG!!! That's so cool! Imagine managing a team that's practically famous!"

Famous? Why would a public school like Date Tech be famous? I thought that was a little weird, so I questioned Hiroko about it.

"Famous?"

"Didn't you know?!?! They're basically famous in Miyagi for their iron wall of blocks!!"

"Oh, that's pretty cool I guess. Sorry for troubling you."

"No problem! See you later!"

I thought that it may be cool to manage a 'famous' team, and I wouldn't be the one playing the sport everyday. All I'd have to do was put little things together and keep players like Futakuchi in check. After all, my plan of joining a club with Rea and Hiroko wasn't going to work at all, maybe I'd even get to miss school to go to their matches. I did have to join a club at some point, and there weren't any that caught my attention. Even if I didn't like it - I'd only have to stay until their actual manager got back from Greece.

Didn't Futakuchi say something about disappointing Aone?

"However, I do see that Aone was the one to bring you here, and you wouldn't want to disappoint him would you?"

Did he really mean that? I hadn't even known Aone for 24 hours - wouldn't disappointing him in that way seem strange? But, from what I'd seen Futakuchi do; he was probably just trying to pull my strings for himself. But why was he even trying to do that in the first place? Was he really that desperate for a manager?

I took one deep breath in, attempting to not let the questions drown me again. But other than the grimace, were there really any negatives that came with being their manager? Maybe being their manager would be a good thing to me...

And that's exactly what I was going to do.

#aone #aone takanobu #aone x reader #aone x gn!reader #aone takanobu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader

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littlemisslol-fic · 4 years

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Varigo week continues!!! @alistairwrites these prompts are so fun omg

Day Two: First Kiss 😘😘

They said that if you wanted a favor, you could always go ask the Witch of the Iron Wood.

Varian’s sure it’s bullshit, of course it is. Witches aren’t real- the only magic that he’s ever come across is from artifacts and space rocks; things that, no matter how you looked at it, are already goddamn weird to start with. Magic is just a type of power they have yet to harness, something celestial and ancient- but within the parameters of science.

He’s never believed the rumours, that if you went to the woods bordering Corona and the Iron Kingdom and walked so deep into the woods you risked getting lost, you might come across the esteemed witch. For a price, they said, the witch would grant you a single wish and be done with you. Your debt would be paid, and you’d wake up in your own bed without a clue as to how you got there, with your wish fulfilled. Varian’s never believed it, never wanted to believe it- he’s a man of science, damn it, and he’ll stick to science, thank you very much.

But…

Then his dad had gotten sick.

Something in Quirin’s lungs- potentially too many cold mornings working in the field, maybe too long trapped in the amber, or perhaps just a stroke of bad luck- had festered and eaten away at him, leaving the man nearly bedridden in a matter of weeks. Varian, only twenty, had been forced to listen as the doctor recommended that Quirin start writing an airtight will, just in case, to assure that Varian would be taken care of in case… in case Quirin didn’t make it.

Varian had worked himself into a tizzy, refusing to leave his father’s side, brewing medicine and other alchemical solutions in an attempt to find a cure, a fix-it, something, anything, to save his father. But nothing had worked, and Varian was at his wits end.

So when someone had spoken of their own failed trek to find the witch, Varian- desperate as he was- had packed a bag and started running.

It was a long shot, longer than he liked to think, but if there was even a semblance of a chance that this Witch of the Iron Wood could help his father… then Varian was willing to try. So he’d packed a bag, left his father in the competent care of Old Corona’s best physician, and had started the three-day trek to the Iron Wood.

The forest was ancient, and it wore its years well. Grand trees stood nearly thirty meters tall, gnarled and drooping with ivy and vines, covered every inch of the woods in a way that suffocated light and sound. Standing at the threshold Varian had nearly turned back- what good was he to his father if he ended up lost in the woods… or dead?- but the memory of Quirin’s pale face and limp chest spurred him forwards, allowing the woods to swallow him whole.

He’d wandered for a two days, tripping over twisted roots and sleeping in trees to keep himself away from curious wildlife. It’s on the third day, when Varian’s well and truly lost, that he stumbles upon the cabin. It’s plain, humble. well kept but obviously old in the way the creeping ivy had grown close around the building, digging deep into the stone over the course of years.

It's set in a small clearing, surrounded by a lush garden of herbs and plants Varian has no name for- he’s never been one for the apothecary side of the sciences- and a prim, well built fence. It’s a modest cabin, made of cobblestone and thick wooden timbers, with a single chimney merrily spitting a small plume of smoke. The windows are large, and Varian can catch sight of rows of plants poking out from under the curtains inside.

The cabin is warm, inviting.

Suspicious.

Varian approaches with caution, walking forwards with a tenseness to his shoulders. He can’t be sure if this the cabin, or just a cabin, but it’s best to approach as if it were a trap- better to be wrong and look strange, than be too casual and end up dead. Birdsong rings through the calm clearing; sunlight beams down in shining pillars that sets the grass aglow. He doesn’t trust it for a second.

There’s a little stone path that leads up to the front door. Varian follows it with a measured step, ignoring the happy little bees that gently float between the flowers. For all he knows, this is a trap. The Witch of the Iron Wood could be a con artist, a thief, hell, even an actual witch who wasn’t super into the idea of helping people so much as sacrificing them for weird witch-spells.

Magic bullshit. Can’t be too careful.

Still, Varian wasn’t raised in a barn; when he reaches the oak front door he still knocks like a normal person, and waits for an answer. It doesn’t come. Curiously, he raises his hand to knock against the old door again, only for the door to swing wide open by itself with a long, drawn out creak of old hinges.

“Oh, that’s creepy.” Varian mutters to himself, peeking into the dark interior of the cabin beyond. “Super creepy.”

He peeks behind himself, looking back down the path with a grimace. He could just turn around, go home… but then what if Quirin wasn’t improving? What if he was worse, and Varian had turned away from an option to save him because he was scared? Varian’s hands clench at the thought, so tightly he can feel his nails through his gloves. He turns back around and gazes into the darkness in front of him.

Teeth grit, Varian walks forwards into the cabin.

The interior of the building is just as well maintained as the exterior. The room Varian steps into is a great room of some sort, a larger space with a small kitchen pushed to the side and a series of mismatched, but well loved, couches and chairs surrounding a large fireplace in the very center of the room. Hanging above the fireplace is a large cauldron, filled to the brim with a smoking, bright purple concoction. The light from outside filters through the wall of plants Varian had noticed while outside, keeping the interior relatively dark.

“This place just keeps getting creepier,” Varian grumbles into the empty air, approaching the cauldron with hesitant steps.

“Well, thank you, I built it myself.” Comes a snarky voice from behind, startling Varian into flinging himself forwards, hiding behind the cast iron cauldron. For a brief second, he considers making a break for the door-

Which slams shut of its own accord.

Perfect.

Varian risks a peek up and over the edge of the cauldron, the steam hazing his vision over as he crouches on the floorboards. Before him stands a blond man, looking at Varian with an expectant expression. It tugs at his pale face in an attractive way, tilts his glasses askew in a way that compliments the choppy blond hair and pony tail the taller boy sports. He’s dressed in green, a similar shade to his honestly stunning eyes and-

Wow. Wow okay time to tone that down.

Varian peeks over the lip of the cauldron a little more, sizing the taller man up. The other stands between Varian and the door, he’d have to get around him to get out-

“So, what is it that you want?” The blond asks, and Varian realizes how out of place he is.

“I- sorry!” Varian crows, stepping back from the cauldron as if it’d burnt him. “Sorry, the door was open, and I’m actually looking for someone that lives out here, and-”

“Listen.” Blondie cuts him off. “I know that you’re here to ask your favour, so. What is it? Gold, immortality, love? I don’t have all day, spit it out.”

“I-”

“Wait, no, I bet you I can guess. You look like a nerd, something to do with fame? Glory?”

“No!”

Blondie raises a brow. There’s a brief second of pause, before Varian finally fully creeps out from behind the cauldron. He takes a breath. For dad, he thinks.

“My name is Varian,” He starts. The blond man raises a brow, looking rather confused to be given a name. “What’s yours?”

“H-Hugo.” The blond stutters a bit, like he wasn’t ready to be asked that. Varian smiles.

“Hugo,” He repeats. “Nice to meet you. Are you the one everyone’s been calling a witch?”

“Sure am.” Hugo replies, taking a step forward. Varian feels his face light up, even as he’s passed by in lieu of the cauldron. Hugo begins to stir the liquid, looking at it judgementally. He twists around towards one of the plants on the windowsill, plucking a leaf off it and tossing it in. The mixture goes a shade of green, not unlike pea soup.

“Great!” Varian chirps, “I was wondering if you’d be able to help me?”

“Yeah, your wish, right?” Hugo mutters, “That’s all anyone ever cares about. So what is it you want?”

“I- that’s a little sad.” Varian says, “No one ever just visits you?”

“Nope,” Hugo says, popping the p. “And neither did you, so spit it out.”

“My… my father is sick.” Varian finally says, looking to the floor. “I’ve tried everything I can think of to help him get better, but nothing works.”

Hugo pauses in his stirring, looking back to Varian with a calculating look. “You realize you could ask for anything, right?” He says, “Eternal life, endless fortune, riches beyond your wildest dreams.”

“I didn’t think that was real.” Varian replies, frankly. “I thought you would just be a skilled healer. That’s all I was looking for.”

“Just medicine.” Hugo says, as if he thinks it’s a joke. His face twists into something confused when Varian nods.

“Just medicine.” The shorter of them says with conviction. “Nothing else. Whatever your price is, I’ll pay it; I just want my father to be well again.”

Hugo looks to Varian like he’s grown a second head. Varian looks at him with a schooled expression, choking back the anxiety boiling in his gut. If this didn’t work, if this Hugo couldn’t help him, then Quirin would surely not have long left-

“Fine.” Hugo says, “I think that’s a stupid wish, but who am I to stop you from throwing it away?”

Varian’s expression must do something stupid, because Hugo laughs. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” He mutters, reaching forwards towards Varian with a grin. The shorter of them feels his face heat up in a blush, going red at their sudden closeness, but winces when Hugo reaches up and tugs a single strand of hair from his hair.

“Ow,” Varian whines, rubbing at the spot the hair had been tugged from. “Why’d you do that?”

“Ingredients.” Hugo chides, “And unless you’re going to stop asking stupid questions, you can go wait outside.”

Varian pauses at that, quietly taking a seat on one of the chairs. Hugo looks at him with another questioning expression, but eventually the blond shrugs. “Suit yourself.” He mutters, and goes back to his work.

Varian watches with rapt attention as herbs and other ingredients get tossed into the cauldron in precise amounts, the mixture going every colour of the rainbow over the next hour. Hugo works quickly, focused on his… potion? Elixir? Varian’s not sure what to call it actually. While Varian keeps from asking questions, that doesn’t stop him from watching with a keen eye as the mixture continues to bubble. After an hour, it eventually turns a rather pleasant shade of lilac purple and stops smoking. Hugo looks smug about it, so Varian assumes the mixture must be finished.

Hugo takes a small pipette from a nearby shelf of strange looking glass instruments- Varian would kill to be able to know what they all did, though Hugo doesn’t seem apt to share- and uses the tool to transfer some of the mixture into a small, glass vial. He does this three more times, making a total of four, before placing them into a small bag.

“And done.” Hugo says, more to himself than to Varian. He twists around with a smarmy grin, holding the bag out. Varian looks at it with a sense of wonderous apprehension, reaching out a hand but stopping himself before he can touch the crushed red velvet. He stands from the couch, pursing his lips.

“What’s the trade?” He asks without malice, but with a hefty amount of suspicion. Hugo’s smile draws wider, and Varian brings his hand fully back to his chest. Always a catch, with magic, something cynical in him groans, absolute bullshit.

“Well,” Hugo muses, “There’s always things that I need from around, though to be honest I’m pretty stocked up on anything I could want.”

“Surely there’s something?” Varian says with a hint of panic- Hugo wouldn’t make the stupid potion only to refuse to trade Varian for it, right? The previous anxiety rears its head again; stupid magic, honestly, always being so contrived.

“There is one thing,” Hugo muses, eyes trailing on Varian’s face. The shorter man feels himself blush again as Hugo steps close, cupping his chin in a way that feels scarily intimate for someone he’s only just met. “One, tiny thing…” Hugo says, trailing off. Varian can’t help but feel a little thrill, pressing closer, unconsciously, to the extremely attractive man in front of him.

“Anything.” Varian says with a small grin of his own, having half an idea of where Hugo might be going with this from the way the blond’s gaze lingers on Varian’s own lips. He’s not against it, not at all; Varian’s not the type, usually, but something about the blond in front of him draws him in. Hugo’s smile widens at the permission, leaning forwards.

It’s a chaste kiss, a little too soft and sweet for strangers, but one that Varian can say he enjoys. He’s never been kissed before, but if this is what it’s like- the smooth press of lips against his own, the soft feeling of a body pressed up against his front- suddenly all those romantic ballads make a lot more sense.

Varian’s eyes slip closed, barely registering as the bag is slipped into his hands. After what could be hours, or merely seconds, Hugo pulls back. Varian keeps his eyes closed, hoping to entice the blond to come back and kiss him again.

“Have your father drink that twice a day, every twelve hours.” Hugo says, his tone somewhat sad. When Varian opens his eyes again, he is standing in his bedroom, alone. He brings up a dazed hand to lightly touch at his lips, blinking in shock.

The sudden silence rings in his ears.

BANNER

“Well, Olivia.” Hugo says to his beloved pet, “Another few hours to go, and then we’ll break for dinner.”

He’s out in his garden, weeding. Nimble, long fingers deftly pull undesirable plants from his herbs, tossing them into a nearby pile. Oliva, small little mouse that she is, does her own work of yanking out the smaller plants, working on her own pile. Hugo smiles as she chirps her assent at his idea, plopping a rogue dandelion on her pile with a squeak.

It had been nearly a week since Varian had come to ask for his favour from Hugo- the blond couldn’t help but miss his company, to be honest. After the few hours they’d spent together, Hugo found himself to be a little enamoured. Hugo’s had dealt with every thrill seeker in the book, those who came to his cabin demanding fame, or glory, or riches, but he’d yet to encounter someone who had been so willing to make the dangerous walk to Hugo’s home for the sake of a family member. Varian had asked his name before asking for his help, had commented that it was sad that no one visited him. He’d been… genuine. Nice. Treated Hugo’s skills like they were less something to be demanded, and more like a gift to be asked for. He had been sweet, and it made something in Hugo bitter.

It was a lonely life, out in the woods, but a peaceful one. Hugo was willing to live alone if it meant he was mostly left to his own devices, though times like when Varian had arrived, he couldn’t help but feel the sting of the isolation creeping in. Perhaps that was why he’d asked for the kiss, though now Hugo felt rather stupid about it. What else could he have asked from Varian? Something more useful for sure. Supplies, food, anything really to save him a walk. But instead his stupid brain had seen a pretty boy and gone totally blank. Hugo can’t help but be a little concerned at that- if he started giving things out for free, he’d surely be in trouble when winter rolled around.

Oliva squeaked again, this time something that sounded concerned. Hugo looked up from his plot of dirt to see her rush over to him, the little mouse scrambling up his shirt to perch on his shoulder. He looked up to where she had come from, seeing a familiar figure standing on the edge of the grove.

“Hi, Hugo!” Varian said with a grin, holding up a small basket. “I was wondering if you wanted some company?”

Hugo… short circuits. “What?” He asks dumbly as Varian walks towards him. The shorter man pauses at the gate, his face asking to be let in. Hugo nods, still stunned as Varian- Varian had come back????- lets himself in and strides over to Hugo with a smile.

“Well, you said no one ever came to visit.” Varian said softly, “So I thought I’d change that.”

“You… don’t want anything?” Hugo asks, struck stupid.

“Well, I mean, I want to talk to you.” Varian flushes, biting at his lip. “And I wanted to thank you. And so does my dad! He helped me make this for you.” Varian shoves the basket at Hugo with a sudden motion, as if embarrassed to have it now that he’s dragged it all the way here.

“He’s doing better, then?” Hugo says, taking the basket without thinking. It’s got some weight to it. A peek under the lid shows about four loaves of fresh bread, tucked away and kept good by a thick towel.

“Much, thank you.” Varian says earnestly, “He was up and walking the day after I came to see you.”

“That’s good.” Hugo muses, lost in thought. No one had ever come back to see him after they’d gotten their wish, let alone to thank him and bring him another gift.

Varian nods with a smile, one that’s bright and happier than the one he’d worn before. Hugo likes it on him. “It’s fantastic.” He breathes, “I owe you more than you could ever know.”

“Nah, we’re even.” Hugo says, flushing at the memory of Varian’s lips on his. “Your debt’s been paid.”

“Oh,” Varian says, looking sideways. “Well, I mean, if you’re sure you don’t want to- uh. Again. Never mind.”

Oh.

“Hm.” Hugo muses, catching on quick, “Actually, you know, I think something went wrong the first time.”

Varian perks up at that, looking to Hugo with a small grin. “Oh?” He asks, “Should we- maybe…”

“Sorry, goggles.” Hugo shrugs, leaning forwards, “Looks like we’ll need a second payment.”

“Aw, shucks.” Varian rolls his eyes, leaning forwards with a smirk, “Whatever am I going to do?”

“Eh, we’ll figure it out. Put you on a repayment plan.” Hugo grins, teasing for just a second more before Varian grabs him by the collar and drags Hugo down into a fiery kiss, their smiles melding together in the quiet of the grove. When they split for air, Varian smiles.

“I can live with that,” He says, and Hugo can feel the grin splitting his face as he leans back down.

Their third kiss is the best one yet.

#varigo #varian #tangled the series #tts #fic #varigo appreciation week #BLESS THIS WEEK IM LIVING

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goldeneyedgirl · 4 years

Text

JaliceWeek2020 Day 7

JaliceWeek2020 Day 7: Yeehaw/Western/Sheriff

Love & Duty

Notes: Okay, I’m pretty sure this isn’t nearly ‘cowboy’ enough, and I’ve already started an alternative piece, but I found an old tumblr post about how cowboys were just daytime witches, and I frickin’ loved it (I’ll link it in the morning) and my excitement got out of hand again. There’s definitely going to be more to this story, but separately.

I also just wanted to prove to myself I could smash out two prompts in one day, honestly. I opted for quantity over quality, and I currently only have some regrets - 4.5 down, 3.5 to go.

The old farmhouse sits outside Laredo, Texas. The wood has blackened from decades underneath the sun and seems to sink in on itself; the ground cracked and dry. The barn roof has caved in, obviously years before if the elaborate nest tucked at the edge is any indication. At the end of the drive, the sign once bore the name of the owners, but that name has long since faded into the wood.

It is an unwelcoming place, for any passerby or stranger - a house that actively discourages anyone from crossing the boundary, even if they never notice it.

But for those that sought it out, and for those few that lived there, it was very different.

—

It was a sacred duty, once upon a time - the Guardians of the Border, sent to protect and prevent the Southern Wars from spilling over from Mexico into America proper. For decades, girls from all the old families across the country were sent to Texas to run the Guard Houses, to protect and shield those. Back then, there were so many daughters that only the very best were accepted at the Border Guard Houses, most of them settled in the city houses, mixing the potions and preparing the weapons. Some girls were even sent home - there were only so many beds, after all.

And Texas remained well-guarded.

But time marches on. Vampire wars, human wars, they all have a death toll, and entire family lines died out. It became less of an honour, more of an obligation, and one that fell to the oldest daughter, or the oddest daughter, or the ugliest daughter. It became more important to keep the bloodlines strong than to protect the South from the never-ending Wars.

Mary-Alice Brandon was never surprised to be banished to Texas on her sixteenth birthday; she’d known her entire life she’d don the blacks and take up the mantle as six generations of Brandon witches had done before her. She was not good breeding stock, with her ‘visions’ and her temper and her complete disinclination to conform to her parents’ social obligations. Cynthia was a much better heiress, and so off to Texas Alice was sent, to three ancient ‘aunts’ who would train her in all she would need to know, having lived their entire lives defending the Laredo house.

The house wasn’t so bad, if you looked past the glamour. The house was in good repair, and the aunts maintained a lush garden out the back, of herbs and flowers. They had two strong horses - Hallow and Haven - and half a dozen well-pleased cats. Her own bedroom looked over the road, hidden only by the branches of an ancient willow tree. Of course, the aunts were strict teachers that expected impossible standards, and third-rate cooks. But no place was perfect, and at least here no one cared about manners or propriety.

But she missed the sunshine. That was one thing the aunts never budged on. “Day is for sleep.” And hell was raged over her head if she wasn’t tucked up tight in bed every morning before dawn, the curtains drawn tight and refusing to budge. Once every moon cycle, her aunts would have a dawn meeting with someone but she wasn’t allowed to join those until she was twenty one, when she formally became a Witch Guardian. Until then, she was just a handmaid and dogsbody.

Which is why she was up to her ankles in mud, trying to pry an overzealous hemlock plant from the ground because it was smothering the chamomile again, with nothing to light her work except the lanterns on the porch. And this was just the first of the positively irritating chores she had been assigned that night.

It was her own fault, really. She should have kept her nose out of the books, and maybe there’d be more lessons for her to finish.

Shoving her hair out of her eyes, Alice glared viciously at the hemlock plant, and wondered if the aunts would consider it ‘inappropriate behaviour’ to curse the damn thing to burn.

“Mary-Alice!”

One of the aunts came dashing out of the backdoor - all three were fairly interchangeable, which felt like an uncharitable thought, but it was the honest truth - looking more agitated than Alice had ever seen her.

“Yes, Auntie?”

“Get out of the mud, and go and fetch one of the horse,” the older woman said, buckling an over-stuffed messenger bag. “Be quick, girl. Change your boots, don’t worry about your dress.”

Struggling out of the garden and into the house to find her riding boots, Alice knotted her hair back before hurrying to the barn, where all three aunts were gathered, Hallow already saddled - she would have thought Haven a better choice, since Hallow was so big and she was not the strongest rider.

“You’re going to Del Rio, girl,” one of the aunts said, shoving over a mounting block with surprising strength. “One of our allies has suffered an injury and cannot be moved. Hallow should have you there by dawn.”

“Del Rio?” Alice couldn’t remember the last time she’d been into Laredo, let alone more than a hundred miles up the border.

“Yes. Now, they’re expecting you,” the second aunt said, taking her hand and half shoving her up and into Hallow’s saddle. “Everything you need is in the bag; there’s food and water for you, but you’ll need them to provide more for your return journey. Hallow knows the way; if you hit the yellow farmhouse, you’ve gone too far. There should be a scout waiting for you anyway, don’t worry. It’s a long trip, but it’s a good practice for you, and you’re a good, clean healer.”

“The boy’s in a bad way, so you best be off,” the final aunt said, looking grim. “Let us know how long you’ll be staying and when you set off home.”

“Okay,” Alice managed, a bit dazed from the amount of information she’d just been given.

“Blessed and safe journey, my dear,” the first aunt said, looking worried before Hallow decided they had lingered long enough, and moved out of the barn.

Alice suddenly regretted cursing the hemlock.

—

The ride was long and hard. She honestly regretted not getting changed into something more sensible - she’d learnt to ride as a girl English style, side-saddle, but the aunts had laughed at that particular pretension, and Western saddles and long skirts were not a winning combination.

The bag wasn’t heavy enough for any of them to have thought to pack her a clean dress, either, and she was truly wretched at cleaning spells. Perhaps the Del Rio coven could loan her a dress.

Hallow stopped some time after midnight, and she took that opportunity to eat - a floury apple, some dry bread, and cold chicken that was so well cooked it might as well have been ash. But it was food, and the urgency that she been sent off - alone - implied she didn’t have more than a few minutes to rest.

The rest of the trip felt long, and as pink and gold streaks began to hover at the horizon, Alice wondered if she’d taken too long - if the poor boy (boy? she’d never heard of a coven accepting a boy, but maybe the Guard Houses had decided to modernise) had already succumbed. But it wasn’t like she was provided with a map or proper direction…

It was dawn when Hallow began to slow, and she saw a man leaning against a signpost with an indecipherable sign, the road behind him leading to a fire-decimated house on a hill in the distance.

“Miss Brandon?” the man said, looking at her with suspicion before his eyes softened. “Ah, Hallow.” The horse clearly recognised him, nickering affectionately at the man.

“Yes, I am Miss Brandon. You are the scout from Del Rio?” she asked primly, as if she didn’t have mud on her face and dress and sleeves, and no hat.

“Yup. Come on, he’s in the house. I’m Peter,” the man said. “Budge up.”

Within seconds, Peter had swung himself onto Hallow behind her, and Alice gasped at the impropriety, but didn’t get a moment to say a word as Peter clicked and Hallow took off like a bullet.

As Hallow passed another sign that couldn’t be read, the fire-ruins shimmered before reforming into an expansive and well-lived farmhouse, with a large barn. Out the back, she could see pristine fields full of horses and cattle. It was like chalk and cheese from home, and for a moment, she was jealous.

As they stopped in front of the house, Peter slid off, and tied off Hallow’s bridle to the porch railing, reaching up to help her down.

“Quick now, one of the boys will come take care of Hallow, we need you to tend to Jasper now,” Peter said, half dragging her up the front stairs and into the house.

It felt like a bustle of activity, and was so bright and airy. The smell of fresh bread filtered through the house, and Alice couldn’t help but snatch a look as she was dragged deeper into the house.

“Char! The witching’s here!” Peter bellowed, and suddenly Alice was presented with a drawn-looking woman with strawberry-blonde hair.

“Oh, thank gods,” she said. “I’m Charlotte. Come with me. His fever keeps getting higher, and I’ve tried everything I know. We called out to everyone, but your aunt was the only one who got back to us.”

She was lead into a backroom, where a mattress was laid out on the floor, and the curtains were drawn. And in the middle of the room, moaning in pain and sweaty, was a tall man covered in scars.

Alice tried not to gasp. The scars were quite clearly vampire bites, healed ones. Covens had some natural immunity to vampire venom, but it only slowed down the process and allowed it to be reversed. There were dozens of stories of girls who couldn’t be saved, and had been burnt before the change could be completed. It was, unfortunately, one of the risks of their duty.

“He got ambushed,” Charlotte said, kneeling beside the man. “The harpy practically gutted him, but he got away okay.” She pulled back the sheet, to reveal an enormous wound that had been clumsily stitched, from the middle of his chest, slashing downward over his stomach to his hip. “It needs cauterising I think, but I’m no healer.”

Alice came back to herself then. Whatever was going on here - male Guardians, this untrained woman, all the bite marks - could be questioned after this poor man - Jasper, had Peter called him? - was treated.

Dropping to her knees, Alice quickly inspected Charlotte’s stitching of the wound. “It will need cauterising, it’s too deep,” she determined quickly. “And treatment for infection, but stitching it was a smart thing to do.” Charlotte looked relieved. “Did he get bitten?”

“His arms,” Peter said, and Charlotte quickly pulled off bandages, already blackening from the venom. Three bites on one arm, four on the other. Bad, bad business.

“Okay. Do you have a smock, and a place I can wash up?” she said, standing quickly. Walking into a sick room in her filthy clothes and boots had been a stupid thing to do, but nothing for it now.

“Of course - show her the bathroom, Peter,” Charlotte darted out.

Within moments, Alice had a smock over her underthings and a pair of borrowed slippers - Charlotte promising to wash her dress immediately - and she’d scrubbed every visible inch of her skin as fast as she could, her hair pinned under a kerchief.

It was a very, very long day. The bites had to be purified, cleaned, and bandaged to draw out as much venom as possible; the bandages had to be changed four times every day, to prevent the venom lingering against the skin. Jasper had to be fed the tonic that the aunts had sent every two hours to flush any venom that had already ended his system. Then she had to treat the fever, to lesson his evident discomfort, and treat the infection that had clearly set into the wound Charlotte had stitched, whilst reassuring Charlotte that it was nothing actively wrong that she’d done, just the unlucky result of riding home with an open wound.

But by the time night fell, Jasper was somewhat more comfortable - the moaning had stopped, and with a generous dose of pain and sleep tonic, he seemed to actually be sleeping.

Alice wished she could.

Instead, she changed his bandages again before finding herself in the kitchen, with Charlotte piling plates with food.

“We heard from the others,” she said, taking her own seat. “Days away, Carlisle is furious. Emmett’s already on his way back with Rosalie, but they won’t make it here for at least a week.” Charlotte looked exhausted. “At least they’ll bring supplies.”

“What’s done is done,” Peter said smartly, watching Alice as she began to eat, exhaustion in every one of her motions. “Jasper will be okay now, yes?”

Alice looked up. “Well,” she began, and sighed. “There were so many bites,” she managed, trying to be kind. “And he’s been bitten before - even one previous bite decreases the effectiveness of treatment. I swear I am doing everything I can possibly do.”

“You’re young, yes?” Peter shot back. “Not even a full Guardian yet?”

“Peter!” Charlotte scolded.

“No, I’m not of age yet. My title does not affect my ability - I have been trained. I have completed my lessons. There is nothing I can think of that I am not already doing,” Alice retorted.

“And we are grateful,” Charlotte broke in.

“Yup, I’m positive Jasper would be thrilled that his life is in the hands of a schoolgirl,” Peter muttered before getting up from the table and storming away.

Alice was too tired to be angry, and just sighed and went back to her food - Charlotte was far and away a better cook than the aunts; perhaps a week of edible food, and she’d be filling out her dresses properly.

“I’m sorry, Peter and Jasper… they’re like brothers. They’ve been together for years,” Charlotte said, looking at her plate. “…Please, please don’t let Peter’s rudeness dissuade you from helping Jasper…”

Alice looked up in shock. “No. No, of course not. I understand his frustration, I do. And there’s nothing he could say to me that would make me treat Jasper any less, I promise.”

“Thank you,” Charlotte smiled, and began to clear the table. “The guest room is at the top of the stairs, I’ve laid out a nightgown for you, and some towels. Peter’s taken care of your horse, and I’m sure…”

“That’s very kind of you,” Alice said gently, “but I’ll sit up with Jasper tonight; he’ll need watching.”

“Could I help at all? Watch him in shifts?” Charlotte asked, but Alice could see the exhaustion and worry in every line of the woman’s face. If they weren’t careful, Charlotte would fall ill too and she’d have two patients.

“No, it has to be me, to make sure the bites are clean and the tonic takes. We’ll have a better idea of how he is tomorrow, though,” Alice offered. “I would like to bathe, though, if you could watch him?”

“Oh, of course - there’s a washroom in the guest room,” Charlotte said, gesturing to the stairs. “Thank you, Alice. I mean it. Thank you for coming, I feel like everything is going to be okay now that you’re here.”

—

It was a long night, with exhaustion setting in for Alice - she hadn’t slept in over a day, had ridden half-way up the border… she felt like an old woman. But it was her duty. And she would do it to the best of her ability.

Charlotte had leant her several dresses, and it was quite strange to wear a colour that wasn’t black or grey, but a welcome novelty, even if the dresses were a size too big.

Settling beside the sickbed, Alice administered the tonic every two hours, and found herself changing the bandages obsessively, as soon as she saw or smelt the venom. She flushed out the bite wounds - one would need stitching. She’d have to cauterise the chest wound first thing in the morning; his fever still lingered, but the tonics and potions seemed to have had a powerful effect on the infection, with the red veins having already retreated.

Though, she might have to teach Charlotte how to administer stitches whilst she was here. The woman was clearly unfamiliar with stitching flesh. Maybe some rudimentary treatments so that they didn’t have to wait twelve hours for help.

The aunts had packed her two new books to read - purely educational, histories of the coven, that were not even a little bit relevant in her current situation, or interesting. But they did keep her awake.

Morning came, and Jasper’s fever had broken. She nearly cheered at that, and when Peter and Charlotte burst in at dawn, she gave them the good news. She thought that Peter was going to cry - Charlotte certainly did. But then she required the couple hold him down as she cauterised the chest wound.

Charlotte ended up vomiting at the smell, and Peter looked at little woozy, but at least he was held together with more than embroidery thread now. She quickly applied a fresh layer of ointment that smelt like mint and tea leaves to the raw wound and bound up his chest up in fresh bandages. At least Charlotte had the practicality of preparing an immense quantity of fresh, sterile bandages that looked like they been cut from good quality bed linens or petticoats.

The day moved slowly; Charlotte brought her meals in on a tray, and sat with Jasper whilst she changed her dress again, and sent a message to the aunts. Peter was very respectful around her, and brought her anything she asked for - purified water, feverfew, lavender, aloe vera. Jasper seemed to sleep more comfortably each day, as she fed him cold tea laced with every possible tonic and potion she had in her bag and could create from scratch. His bite marks were cleared every day, settling into fresh scar tissue. She was genuinely sorry that they had scarred, but there was nothing for it.

But only time would tell if the venom had made it to his heart.

—

Seven days. She had been at the Del Rio house for seven days and seven nights. Jasper had passed out of danger, and was now just healing, though he hadn’t regained consciousness. But Alice continued to nurse him, as was her duty and purpose here. She fed him careful sips of tea and then herbal broth, to build up his strength and hopefully reinforce his immunity; she rubbed ointments into his new wounds to keep the skin supple and preveshe lnt thick scar tissue and ease any discomfort. She helped Charlotte wash and dress him as soon as she deemed it safe.

That she had not been expecting. She hoped her poker face was good, because she’d really never seen a man’s body before. Not like that - she was only nineteen, had lived with the aunts since she was sixteen and had never been courted. Even her lessons had been done on whatever animals they could hunt or trade for from the market, not really humans. And this man, he was… handsome. He was tall and just the right amount of muscular and tan and, she shouldn’t be having these thoughts.

She couldn’t even imagine her embarrassment if this Jasper had seen her in such a way.

Oh, she was definitely sleep deprived. She had yet to sleep a single second in the guest room, snatching cat naps in the corner of Jasper’s sick room when she couldn’t hold her eyes open a single moment longer.

Which was what she was doing now. She twisted her neck uncomfortably; she’d been sleeping at a funny angle, she’d be feeling that all day. Stretching out, she looked over at her patient, only to see Jasper staring back at her curiously.

“Oh my gods!” Alice gasped, scrambling over. “You’re awake? How are you feeling? How long have you been awake?”

She quickly helped him sit up, reading for the water cup on the beside table. He took two deep swallows before coughing.

“Oh, it’s got lemon and mint in it, for healing,” she explained. “It’s helped, I promise. Hopefully we can get you back to normal drinking water and food tomorrow.”

“Who are you?” croaked Jasper, looking up at her with glazed eyes.

“Oh. Um, I’m Alice Brandon. From the Laredo Guard House,” she said, embarrassed. She was acting like a bumbling sixteen year old trainee, not a proper Guardian. “I was summoned when you were wounded.”

“Alice Brandon from Laredo,” Jasper repeated, a quirk of his lips. “Thank you.” His energy seemed to drain out of him all at once - totally normal for the severity of his wounds and his recovery.

“It was nothing,” she said. “Sleep now. It’s a great healer. Charlotte and Peter will be awake in a few hours.”

He nodded half-heartedly before he closed his eyes again, and Alice sat backwards. He was okay. Two blue eyes without a hint of red, talking and lucid, and drinking easily. She did it.

He lived.

—

Both Peter and Charlotte had wept when they realised that Jasper was conscious again, and Peter had nearly tackled the man when he saw Jasper sitting up, drinking water and talking to Alice, trying to piece together what had happened to him, and to learn how she had treated him - the Del Rio Guard House had fallen to the Whitlock-Hales several generations ago, and many of the old skills - like healing - had been lost.

In fact, it was only him, Peter, and Charlotte who were at the house full-time now - they hired local boys to help out on the ranch that funded the Del Rio clan. Jasper’s own sister and brother-in-law visited regularly, as did various other friends and allies, “but none of us are witchlings,” he coughed. “We were raised in the sun, not in the night.”

She smiled at reference to the old rhyme. “Even your sister?” she asked; girls were kept to the night, boys to the day. Old attitudes that had held true - girls were protected and cloistered (and much less likely to be caught poisoning or cursing) in the darkness. Their herbs and plants bloomed and grew so much harder under the moon than the sun. But boys, they were the fighters, the warriors, and battle against vampires and other dark creatures was best done when there was no darkness to escape into.

“Even my sister,” Jasper had smiled. “Rose would have made a horrible healer - punched me in the arm and told me to ‘man up’ the first time I fell off a horse; my arm was broken. She’s not nearly as committed as I am, but she helps. Her husband’s good at it too, he just married into the madness.” He spoke about his family with such affection, Alice felt a little jealous, but before she could ask any other questions, Charlotte and Peter were there, Jasper just as pleased to see them as they were to see him.

Alice slipped out to give them privacy - a bath and a clean dress sounded heavenly right now, and she ought to send another message to the aunts. She’d help Jasper wash and change afterwards, and hopefully be able to move him from the sick room to his usual quarters with fresh sheets. He’d sleep more comfortably in his own bed.

By lunchtime, Jasper was safely ensconced in his own bed, in a room that overlooked the a paddock of horses. He’d eaten some broth and drunk as many cups of herbal tea as Alice could press on him, as she fussed around. Peter had headed off to get ranch work done, and Charlotte had taken up a vigil at Jasper’s bedside with some sewing.

“Alice, please, you don’t have to do anything of that,” Charlotte laughed as Alice began folding clothing. “You should rest - you must be exhausted.” Turning to Jasper, she continued, “I don’t think she’s rested this entire time - she sat with you every night, didn’t even wake us to help change your bandages. She insisted Peter and I sleep.”

“Oh, I’m up at night anyway,” Alice laughed. “And I’m here to help.”

Jasper was watching her carefully now.

“She hasn’t stopped at all. I cannot imagine how efficient the Laredo House is,” Charlotte shook her head. “Though, I’m sure having proper recruits makes a difference.”

Alice shook her head, as she reached out to plump a pillow behind Jasper’s head. “Oh, it’s just me and the aunts,” she said airily. “All the old families are dying out, and, well, it’s not exactly a glamorous position. I knew I’d be sent to Laredo since I was very small, so I suppose my mother and father prepared me for it.”

“It sounds lonely,” Jasper said quietly.

And it was. She always tried to think of the positives, that she had her own bedroom, and she got to learn so quickly and do hands on practice much more quickly, and there were practically no chores but she had still been alone there for three and a half years. No companions, just duty. It hadn’t felt quite as bad until she’d come here, to this bright, happy place with sweet Charlotte and practical Peter and handsome Jasper…

“It’s home,” she finally said, honestly. “But I will take you up on that offer for a rest. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to wake me.”

“I’ll be fine, I promise,” Jasper said.

“See that you do - you’re my first official patient, and it would look terrible if you died when I was napping,” Alice teased, before slipping out of the room. She could sleep, finally.

—

The next week and a half fell into a routine. Jasper regained his strength surprisingly quickly, and went from being bedridden to eating meals in the kitchen with them all, to back on his horse - an enormous brown beast named Duke - within the week, though he did seem to tire quickly.

He took to showing her their operation - the wall of blessed weapons in the barn and in the house, the modified saddles to carry the weapons, the horses carefully trained to protect their rider and be desensitised to the presence of vampires.

It turned out that Charlotte was a newcomer, a local girl raised as a kitchen-witch whose brother had worked on the ranch. Charlotte had fallen quite hard for Peter, to hear Jasper tell it, and hadn’t flinched when she realised she’d married into a quasi-family of cowboy vampire hunters. She had started a small greenhouse with many common herbs that was a good start, but Alice knew that they needed something a little more robust for their ‘business’. She immediately promised Jasper to write them a list of additions they needed - and send them seeds and samples - and their purpose as soon as she was back in Laredo.

It was all very pleasant, but Alice realised quickly that Jasper was, for all intents and purposes, healed. She had no place here any longer; his sister would arrive soon, and he had no use of a nurse or witching now. She needed to leave.

She announced those plans at dinner that night, as Charlotte presented another one of her delightful spreads.

“I’m going to miss this,” she said ruefully, as they all dug in. “The aunts cannot cook at all.”

“Miss this?” Charlotte asked innocently, passing out hot rolls.

“Jasper is healed,” Alice smiled, trying to keep her voice upbeat. “Your recovery will continue, and you should be conservative about what you take on for a months or two, but you have no need for me any longer. I should return home first thing tomorrow.”

Everyone froze.

“So soon?” Jasper managed, almost looking… hurt?

“The aunts need me. They’re elderly,” Alice explained, “and it’s where I belong.”

Silence.

“Well, we’re mighty grateful you came all the way out here for us,” Peter said. “We’d all be happy to see you around here again.”

“Ah, but that would mean one of you was hurt, and that would be acceptable,” Alice teased. “You’ve been very kind to me. If I could trouble you for some food for the trip home, Charlotte…”

��Oh, of course,” Charlotte nodded. Jasper was focused on his potatoes and not looking at anyone. “You must stay in touch, yes? It’s been so nice having another woman here.”

“Of course,” Alice gushed, trying to ignore the reaction she knew the aunts would have if she started using the messaging system for socialising. “I’m going to be lost without you!”

“You’re not the only one,” Peter murmured, and Alice chose not to pull at that thread, and instead turned the conversation to Jasper’s sister’s arrival and tried not to dread the next morning.

—

It was a moment of weakness when she waited til Jasper was downstairs helping Peter wash up, when she slipped the medallion into his cowboy boots. He’d never feel the tiny silver charm, blessed with protection and a long life, but it would keep him safe.

She tried to convince herself it was because he probably wouldn’t survive another bite, but it didn’t work.

—

She left just before dawn, once again clad in her blacks - freshly washed and mended by Charlotte - and Jasper was waiting there, holding Hallow’s bridle as she walked out, Charlotte’s food tucked into her bag.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” she said, realising Hallow was saddled and ready to leave.

“I wanted to.” He looked her up and down. “You look beautiful.”

Alice smiled - her black lace dress, from ankle to wrist to throat - was practically her uniform; she had four more just like it hanging in her wardrobe at home. Any particular beauty in the garment had faded the one hundredth time she wore it.

Jasper stepped closer to her; standing on the second step of the porch, they were nearly eye-to-eye.

“I never truly thank you for what you did for me - Peter and Charlotte filled me in,” he continued.

“It was truly nothing, it was what I was born for,” she said, wondering if it was Jasper’s proximity that was making her so warm, or if summer was coming early.

Jasper just stared at her and all of a sudden his lips were on hers.

She had never been kissed before, not even once, and it was… unexpected. Within a moment, Jasper deepened it, and she was properly clinging to his strong shoulders and oh, how could he do such a thing to her when she was about to leave?

Pulling back slowly, Jasper ducked his head. “I just wanted to do that once,” he murmured. “I couldn’t let you walk away without…”

“I can’t,” Alice whispered, somehow unable to pull away. “I… I’m not allowed. I would have to recant my vows, and the aunts have no one else to take on the Laredo house… I just can’t.”

Jasper looked at her. “That seems cruel,” he said in a low voice. “Looking after some old ladies until they die, then being left alone without being allowed anything more.”

“It’s how things are done,” Alice took a shaking breath. “I’m sorry. Please thank Charlotte and Peter for their hospitality.”

And with that, Alice took Hallow’s bridle from Jasper and mounted her horse, leaving for the Laredo house, trying to drag her mind away from what was behind her, from the first (and likely the only) kiss she had ever been given. From the way he looked at her, like she hung the moon.

She was, in all probability, never going to see him again. And that was how it was supposed to be.

#jaliceweek20 #does this even count?#it's set in texas and there are horses #alice cullen #jasper hale #my fic: love and duty #jalice #alice/jasper

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 3 years

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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 151

151

Coming back to Garrison should have been a relief. It really should have. It wasn’t until Lance had cleaned through that he felt like he was really home again. All his stuff was where it was supposed to be, but Matt and Rieva had changed a few things around. Lance felt bad about changing it back, yet he knew it’d grate on him until he had.

Sitting himself down on the lawn, the vampire sighed deeply. Hand clutching at his pendant, unable to not think of Mami. That photo... of his first scan. Taken from camera footage obviously... back when he thought they were only have one child and Mami placed her bet. Back when he thought he’d have his Mami through it all. Back before Allura had dropped her foresight in their lap, and back before everything fell apart. It felt impossible to get Allura’s words out of his head. So he’d done what he did best when stressing, he’d cleaned. Cleaned and organised. Everything in its correct place, normalcy restored one room at a time. The Pidge and Hunk had climbed into bed with them, and... it’d been kind of nice seeing how long it’d been. Keith was left coffeeless, but that was okay because he was there to guide his sleepy boyfriend from the chaos.

This was his first Christmas without Mami, ever. It wasn’t even Christmas Day by a long shot. Presents were a distraction. Opening Mami’s was the hardest... then they dropped one last present on him as he lingered over opening the presents for the twins

“Lance?”

Shooting Hunk a wobbly smile, he’d heard them coming. Kind of glad it wasn’t Keith. He didn’t want to burden his boyfriend with a mess of feelings when all he wanted was Keith to feel part of their Christmas traditions. Being the tech nerd she was, evenings meant losing repeatedly and watching her and Hunk get progressively drunker through the night. He’d tuck them in, Pidge would be bragging about her winning right until she fell asleep

“Hey guys. I’m okay”

Dropping down beside him, both his best friends leaned into him

“Dude. We’re sorry about Mami”

“You guys did nothing wrong. I love that photo. I just miss her”

Wrapping their arms around him, Lance didn’t know who to hug back first

“I miss her too. She like super believed in me. Told me to show those boys how a real woman took on technology”

“Remember how she made all that extra food for our exams...”

“Mhmm... and Lance disappeared, so she called us to come over and visit”

“Remember the first time we met her...”

Pidge laughed at Hunk. Hunk had stammered so badly Mami couldn’t stop laughing at him to relax

“Yeah. I thought she was too cool to be related to Lance”

Lance sighed softly

“She really was the coolest. I miss her... I miss her so much”

Pidge eased off, letting Hunk pull Lance up against his chest as Lance started to cry

“We know you do, buddy. We know. We do too. She was the best to go to the fair with. Always cheering us on”

“She loved you guys. God. She loved you both so much. I thought... so many times I thought that this was it. Then she’d rally through, talking about how she’s a tough old bird...”

“I don’t think she’d want to see you crying like this. She’d call you out and say you’re too soft hearted”

Lance snorted

“Yeah. Yeah, she’d tease me. But... she was like... like my number one supporter. She protected me from everything. And I feel like I didn’t do enough for her”

Pidge punched his arm

“Idiot. Mami loved being with you. And you loved being with her. We all knew you were a total Mumma’s boy”

“That’s... that’s because... She never looked at me differently. When they... my siblings cut ties, she kept them all in line. I ruined my whole family and she’d tell me I didn’t. She didn’t blame me when it got too much for Rachel. Or... or how many nightmares I had. She’d reach for me and hold me in her lap. Sometimes she’d sing me to sleep, and sometimes she just knew I needed her to hold me. I’m sorry... I know I’m not... not okay... I just...”

“Man, she was your mum. Pidge and I are just happy you’re home again. We really missed you”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you guys”

Deciding she needed hug, Pidge wrapped her arms around the pair of them, digging her chin into Lance’s shoulder

“It’s okay. If you’d up and left we would have totally hacked your devices and found some way to track you down. You didn’t leave because you hated us, right?”

“No! No... I could never hate you guys. But... I wasn’t sure about coming back”

“Dude, we get it. I mean, you were mostly here because of Mami. You like to overthink too much”

“Careful, Pidgeon, you’re starting to sound too much like Keith”

Pidge sighed dramatically. Lance glad she hadn’t screamed in his ear. She was so excited over this Christmas party that Lance wondered how many coffees she’d downed before coming over and if she’d slept at all the night before

“I hate to admit it, but he’s got a point. You’re back with us now, and you’re stuck with us. Like super stuck. I mean, I could superglue myself too you, if you’re not getting the point, but I think it’s against some kind of universal law to glue yourself to a pregnant person”

Lifting his arm, the angle was awkward as Lance hugged Pidge without having to move away from Hunk’s chest. His two besties were the best friends anyone alive, or dead, could ask for

“I think Keith would be mad, plus being a vampire means throwing up what you eat... and we all know how much you love the sight of vomit”

“This pregnancy isn’t working in my favour. At least I know I’m in prime position for favourite aunt”

“There’s always Shay. Seeing she knows... Which I’m betting you haven’t had her sign a non-disclosure agreement over”

That Shay now knew meant there was a massive weight taken off Hunk’s relationship with her. He didn’t need to know Hunk and Shay had done the do. Hunk was his best buddy. The feelings it brought up were the same feeling about hearing Shiro and Curtis, or Matt and Rieva, meaning as long as it was consensual it was absolutely none of his business. Hunk let out a long moan of what Lance assumed was despair, before shaking his head

“I didn’t mean to tell her. She was talking about you being gone, and not coming back and why you vanished in the first place when that was completely unlike you... and it kind of slipped out. I thought we were over. She left pretty much as soon I’d told her...”

Pidge took over from Hunk

“Then she called me up, talking about Hunk saying some really weird things. She was as freaked as I was to know these things existed. I told her to listen to Hunk and that he wasn’t crazy, and Shay was crazy enough to go back and demand answers”

Yeah. No. Lance wouldn’t have able to handle it. He was slightly cowardly and he knew it. Though... he hadn’t really had much of a life not knowing about the things in the dark

“I don’t think I could have handled it”

Pidge giggled

“She already thought you were a bit weird. The teeth totally didn’t help with all the flashing around you did, and she had her own theories about you being ill. She’s not as good of an investigator as I am, but she’s got potential”

Hunk defended his girlfriend, Lance not sure how he felt about Shay thinking he was weird when he’d been so nice to her in the past

“She’s still learning. Shay is so smart, I’m sure she’ll catch up in no time. We weren’t that good when we started”

“Maybe. She’s better than Matt. People want to see more of my “Hot Brother”. Like, excuse me?! Matt isn’t hot, and he’s not that smart either. We’re making a show about ghost hunting, not about my brother”

Eh. Sometimes he could throttle Matt and wish an in anaesthetised neutering upon him, yet, he wasn’t ugly. Objectively Lance assumed a lot of people would find mind Matt attractive

“Matt’s not completely unattractive. Like you’re pretty cute for a criminal mastermind”

Pidge made a fake retching sound. Matt to busy arguing with the others over how to hang the photo frame over the fireplace. It’d look nice there, better then the mirror and above his little shrine of super important things on his mantle

“Dude, that’s my brother. No. You’re not allowed to say that”

“I’m very happily taken by Keith, so you don’t have to worry about me climbing into bed with your brother. If anything I should be worried about Matt climbing into bed with me”

Pidge detached herself. Lance clinging to Hunk like gum to the bottom of a shoe. At this point someone might have to scrape him off. Anxiety was so cruel. The voices in his head telling him over and over that they’d never forgive him and he should rid them off the curse that was knowing him. He’d been preparing his heart, knowing he’d break theirs if he chose Cuba over coming home. Blue would go to Hunk, who’d make sure his princess would have all the wet food that her highness could desire.

“You guys are weird. Like, super weird. I get that you’re close, but why would Matt climb into bed with you”

“It’s a wolf thing. They have a high sex drive. I’m a vampire so his ego is naturally ruffled, but my body can also take a lot more than human. Don’t worry, we punched it out and we’re friends. Rieva says I’m part of her pack, which is super weird for a wolf to accept a vampire”

Hunk was making his “confused face”. Lance didn’t have to see it to know he was. Pidge must be wishing she hadn’t gone there. A moment or two of thought passed before Hunk shrugged

“I don’t think it’s weird. They do live with you”

“Hunk, my sunshine. It’s not really a thing in my world. I’ve never hung around werewolves and vampires for longer than I could help it. Normally we’d both kill each other if we were strangers in the wrong territory. Even if we’re “domesticated” we still have strong egos that control us if we don’t keep a tight hold of them”

“But you helped them out”

Bless Hunk from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet

“Yeah. But there’s all this instinct bullshit. Sometimes the smell of Rieva and Matt still makes my face go all vampire like and my nails get super long and scary. I guess maybe if you think of as being drunk and trying to act sober. There’s that part of you that’s all party with no fear and could anything. I don’t know how to really explain ego to you. It’s just there for me”

“Well... we’re here for you too. Shiro says we’re having a baby shower soon”

Pidge wasn’t having a topic change by Hunk on her watch

“Excuse me, but I think we were actually crowning me best aunt”

“Shay would make a great aunt. And a great mother...”

“Can I not have anything to myself?”

Oh dear. He’d better not mention Allura

“Now, now. We all know Curtis would make a great aunt too”

“He doesn’t count. You two are too into those weird soap operas. Plus, Shiro said he’s the best uncle, so Curtis is already one up”

“What about me?”

Lance nuzzled into Hunk’s chest. He loved cuddles with Keith, but Hunk cuddles were a whole other feeling

“You’ll be the very best uncle. As for a baby shower, can we wait? Until things have settled down and we’re closer to June?”

Pidge tugged on his arm

“But we want to celebrate”

“And you will. That reminds me, should I be worried about Keith’s present?”

“Oh, absolutely. We’re got to borrow you both for a bit, but we think he’ll be happy”

Putting two and two together, Lance bit down his groan. Obviously Keith’s bike was at Hunk’s dad’s garage. Great. Now he’d have to worry about Keith out on it

“I know what’s happening. I don’t think I want to think about him back on his bike”

“How did you know?”

“Call it one of my many vampire senses. You guys can borrow him. I don’t want to see that death trap. He’s still got the scars from the accident”

“Fiiiiine. We’ll borrow him. It’s not our fault if he comes back smiling”

Lance smiled at the thought of Keith smiling. He loved it. He loved how unguarded Keith could be when he let his walls drop and let himself be happy

“He does that”

“Much more than when we met him. You’re completely to blame”

Blame was such a dirty and ugly word. Still, if he was to blame for Keith’s happiness, he’d take all the blame in the world.

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

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maljic · 4 years

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i have been working in the grocery industry practically my entire life. for many companies, and in many many positions. i’ve seen hurricane panic buys, i have seen post hurricane apocalypses, i have closed stores, and i have opened stores. i have been to backroom recoveries, i have worked small stores and big stores. i have seen h1n1, and i have now seen covid19. and even tho this is something unprecedented, all together it’s really not. the difference here is that it’s been going on for three weeks now and there is no end in sight. the duration is what’s so new.

so i’ve started making notes every day after i got home. just the overall experience, but also customer comments and new things being implemented. it’s a fascination change, and i wanted to write it down to maybe sometime in the future come back to this time and remember anew.

i plan on keeping notes for the foreseeable future, to keep writing a diary of sorts, to see if this ever levels out or escalates even more, if things change drastically or not at all. and if the fucking toilet paper situation ever goes away.

things started to change the first week of march. it was super subtle, i didn’t even notice it at first. it was just a steady increase in business. a solid 20% ahead in sales all across the board. and even tho the virus was already in the news it didn’t cotton on right from the start. or it did, maybe, but i wasn’t expecting it to escalate to such heights.

tuesday, 03.10.2020 9am - 5pm

people are making their own hand sanitizer by mixing rubbing alcohol and aloe vera. we’re out of both. lady is asking me by the sun tan section about the state of deliveries of aloe vera gel. we get to talking. i admit that i don’t understand the people’s need for hand sanitizer since the cdc and every doctor ever recommends hand washing first and foremost. Susan comes out and says, ‘well the only thing that really can safe us from all this is...” and i retort with, “washing your hands, right?” but Susan claps back with, “the lord jesus christ.” and i had to excuse myself real quick and leave her ass on the aisle, because why are you fucking here then trying to potion together your own hand sanitizer, Severus, if all you need is god?

a grown woman that’s working at the register is. coughing. non. stop. co workers comment on it to each other and to me, and i wonder if anyone has taken her aside to explain the current state of world events to her, and maybe asking her to cover her damn mouth. we’re all gonna die.

thursday, 03.12.2020 2pm - 10pm 11pm

parking is an absolute nightmare. i’m 10 mins late cause i can’t find a spot. welcome to hell. i ask my boss what the sales were yesterday and she says we’re 40% ahead of the forecast. which is ridiculous. at this point it’s pretty much a blanket permission for over time. we do not have the capacity to continue to run at this pace. people get worn out, we’re bound to get sick, and the customers are fucking relentless. truck is big. Karen and her brother Chad look at the soap section and wanna know when we get more hand sanitizer in.

this lady is looking at things in the cold and flu section and we get to talking about shit and she mentions something she’s read on facebook and whoops my filter went poofgone and i tell her that i hope facebook dies along with all this corona virus flu and have a good evening.

at the end of my shift after we’ve finished stocking and cleaning up, i stay longer because there’s still a fuck ton of people in the store but we only have two registers open. i check people out until 11 and then peace out. one dude dropped $650 on groceries.

friday, 03.13.2020 11am - 7pm

“where is the hand sanitizer?” Karen asks. i refrain from shouting at her to get outta my face. the store is absolutely packed. lines of lengths i haven’t ever witnessed. lines and lines of people with full bascarts of stuff. the end is nigh and we are here with a front row view of it. we have a small parking lot, and i have no idea where these people’s cars are? i didnt know we could fit that many people in the store. whats the fire marshall’s max capacity guidelines? someone should review those. meanwhile i’m trying to navigate around everybody and put things on shelves that don’t last very long.

the grocery truck arrives around 3 ish and paper products get thrown out first. usually, when the truck arrives it stays locked until the night crew shows up. we’re set up to always have a trailer at the store, so when the guy shows up he unhitches his trailer, and hitches up under another trailer which was the previous day’s grocery truck, which got emptied off groceries when the night crew stocks, and then got filled with stacks of empty pallets, paper bales, and other reusable thinks like plastic trays the meat comes in, or the eggs come in, or produce plastic trays, things like that. so now that we’re in the apocalypse of paper products, the day crew gets those pallets out on the sales floor asap. at this point we have reduced the quantities of things you’re allowed to take to 3. 3 packs of toilet paper, 3 packs of paper towels... also 3 of lysol wipes and 3 of hand sanitizers even tho we dont have any, calm down, Karen. paper products are gone within an hour.

my company makes an absolute killing that day.

saturday, 03.14.2020 10ish to whenever.

my boss said she was coming in (on her off day) so i said yo, mind if i sleep in a bit? i was scheduled 7am and if i don’t have to i don’t want to. she said ok. i rock up at 10:08. things stop showing up on deliveries. the diaper area is sad looking. people have started to buy us out of baby wipes. there’s a problem coming at us in about 2 months. you cant flush baby wipes but since the toilet paper situation is what it is, people will wipe their butts with wet wipes. have fun with that, dallas county utility department (or whoever messes with the water wastes).

displays are dwindling. we are not getting product, so we are filling the shelves in the aisles with the stuff that’s on displays. it’s a bit wonky looking. there’s half an endcap with shampoo and then the rest of it is filled with hersheys. its upside down world. but we have to keep things full. with whatever. empty shelves are bad bad bad, but empty endcaps are a cardinal sin.

people waste so much food when they’re shopping. now that the shelves are getting and staying empty, people will just put things everywhere when they decide against buying the items. bags of chips, six packs of beer, gatorade whatever. that’s not really waste. but we also see bags of salad, frozen items, meats. we are currently not in the position to walk the store every half hour and collect these things. these things are all now wasted and will get thrown out. not the chips, i’m talking about the temp controlled things. being cold to the touch is not enough. shit aint safe.

monday, 03.16.2020 8am - 4 pm 6pm

truck is gigantic. never ever have i seen a truck that big. so everything that my boss was fantasizing about me doing gets thrown out the window when the truck hits the backdoor at 11 am. everybody who is scheduled for truck is given the option to come in early. and stay until it’s all stocked. or until you’re exhausted. i help with the pharmacy stuff because that’s the biggest part. i stay until 6pm. then i’m out.

people would like to know where the hand sanitizer is, well, sugar, so. do. i. it’s the one item that has been out since the end of february, and people are absolutely gob smacked when you tell them it’s currently unavailable. i try to appease them with some hand soap, but, stupidly, people dont want to hear that. i’m thinking to myself that in about a week soap will also be unavailable, but to each their own. customers believe that we, the workers, know the exact day and time when lysol wipes will be stocked. but when you tell them that soap is getting scarce they look at you like you’re speaking a different language.

company wide, we are not allowed to order anything right now. which is huge. how it usually works is: our system knows at all times how many items we have in the store, as per bar code, and knows how much will fit on the shelves, how much we’re selling every day/hour, and then there’s the forecasting factor. so the system will order stuff based on sold quantities, automatically. all the time. if we need extra stuff for sales and/or displays and whatnot, we order extra.

the computer system wouldnt know, for instance, that there was a tornado in oct that wiped out our electricity and that of most of our customers, so we changed orders to reflect that. no frozen things, lots more batteries, ice, coolers.

a lot of things ride on added orders, which are now out

from here on in, everything is up to the system, and to the powers that be. if there’s soap in the warehouse, we will get allocated with every store in the area so that everyone gets equal amounts or close to. hoarding is, apparently, frowned upon at this level too.

tuesday, 03.17.2020 2pm - 10pm

i have come to hate the soap aisle. used to always be my favorite. so long, soap aisle, we’ve had a good run. tonight i’m stocking the pharmacy area (cold and flu, pain meds, tummy stuff, those sort of things). truck is small. super small. i try helping customers as much as i can, but most of my end of the conversation is no, sorry, we dont have any. backstocks are dwindling. the backroom is emptying out. we rely on truck deliveries for things to do and products to be put out. “do you have any [insert product here] in the back?” is the most asked questions. “there’s nothing in the back.” is the most uttered sentence all day.

people obviously do to not get what social distance means. every aisle is packed with shoppers. i’m wasting a lot of time trying to stay out of people’s paths, but people lingeeeerrrrr what the fuck. the mayor of dallas shut everything down to flatten the curve yet here all these fuckers are doing their god damn grocery shopping like it’s 3 months ago. get in, get stuff, get out. i try conjuring up some gas to clear the aisle, but the farts won’t come

go home, people. i wish i could.

somehow our store has become the hub in our area. we get trucks in the afternoon with produce and meat, and people from other stores around us show up in trucks and suvs to transport product between stores. i’ve seen so many people that i hadn’t seen in years because they’re coming by getting shit in the afternoon.

we lost one of our baristas. she’s retired but works with us the maximal allotted hours per week the government allows you before they yank your money. she’s living in senior housing (cause its cheap) and they’ve completely locked down and she is unable to come to work. her boss funnels her groceries. and they face time a lot. she’s doing ok.

wednesday, 03.18.2020 10am - 6pm

parking lot semi full, too full for a wednesday. toilet paper situation is unchanged. but alas there’s no grocery truck scheduled tonight so this is not changing until tomorrow. i’m talking to three separate people desperate for some toilet roll (lol, i love how this pandemic makes me learn new terms, hi, united kingdom, i see you - toilet roll, i love it). anyways, i explain to all three the truck schedule and how to best strategize to get some butt wipes: truck is 6 days a week, wednesday being the no truck day. when the truck arrives, usually what happens is that the paper products get stocked immediately, to make room in the back room and to alleviate the situations. be in the store at around 3ish? 3:30ish, and hang out. i explain that i don’t want to encourage anybody to spend their afternoon in the store for obvi reasons, but when you gotta go you gotta go. alternately, hang out in your car, and when you see a truck pull behind the store around mid day, chances are in about 30 mins you shall have paper. people appreciate the info.

i’m in the candy aisle trying to stock a case of twizzlers. we’re using shopping carts to stock, it’s way more flexible than lugging around huge stocking carts, especially now with the store being so crowded. this dude rocks up and asks me if i’m panic hoarding with all those boxes in my cart. he looks at me with a straight face and thinks he’s making a point. meanwhile i’m in full uniform and people around are starting to roll their eyes. i drop the box of twizzlers into my cart (its super heavy and dude is creating a scene). my box cutter comes out and i make a show of clicking the blade out while explaining to douche canoodle that i’m working here, excuse me, and cut into the tape of the box. moron.

there’s a few people that i’ve seen every day this week. and they’re all advanced in their age. i get that the store is your second home cause you’re lonely, but right now is really not the time. go home.

the question i hate the most is: when are you gonna get more soap in. the honest answer? no fucking clue, Karen. if i could predict the future i wouldn’t be working here.

thursday, 03.19.2020 10am - 6pm

there was no grocery truck last night so shelves are still as empty as they were when i left last night. still, parking lot is semi full. we’ve seem to have gotten a decent produce truck, bananas everywhere. great. my boss’s plan for me is to: whatever truck is back there, and then easter. which means i walk the back room, collect anything and everything that belongs to our department, and get it on the shelves. there’s nothing back there except a chocolate delivery which arrived on the dairy truck. a huge amount, by normal standards. at least people are still enjoying some candy.

by 3pm it’s made the rounds that one of the guys for our dept isn’t coming in: allergies. okay then. truck is not too big, i help out with that until it’s time to hit the time clock.

times are tough, and i’m a good-natured person that can dish out jokes and emphasize with you and cumbaja we’re all in this together and all the other bullshit we’re telling ourselves to make us feel better. but when dudebro comes down the soap aisle and bemoans the state of the shelves (empty) and then goes into a rant about his two parents, immunocompromised, at home, out of soap, almost getting loud and making it seem like its my fault that we don’t have what you want, then no. i’m all out of fucks to give. meanwhile, people of the free world, have you forgotten that hand washing soap does not only come in little pump bottles that you can cutsify your sink with but also LOOK AT ALL THE BARSOAP, back in the days we used that to wash our hands. calm down and take some irish spring to your parents.

grocery truck arrives. big time. in the good ole days of yester year we would get one trailer daily, most of the time not even full. we’ve been ramping it up to 2 most of the last two weeks. (and by we i mean we as a society, buying everything on the shelves and not being satisfied and always wanting more). today it was three. one of which with nothing but water. the others with lots of toilet roll and paper towels. and the usual stuff of canned goods and the likes. nothing will last tho, nothing is forever.

we have this one guy who works here who has, i believe, severe arthritis and is hygiene wise very challenged. he isn’t very mobile and does super light duty but he’s worked here a long time. i haven’t seen him in a few days. i wonder if he is just off, or if he said fuck it and stayed home.

the grown ass woman at the register is still coughing. and not covering her mouth. asswipe.

saturday 03.21.2020 7am - 3pm 6pm

“when do you expect more hand sanitizer in?”

i have no idea what you’re talking about, hand sanitizer was never a thing. lemme ask you this: is it berenstein bears where you come from?

people still want to shop brand loyal. i die inside a little bit every time someone turns their nose up at an alternative to their regular, “oh but we don’t use that brand.” dude didn’t you just say you needed vitamin c? was that a lie? here’s the damn vitamin c. it’s vitamin c, not, i don’t know, fucking coca cola. go home.

corporate finally came down and said we’re allowed to wear ppe now. like some of us haven’t since three weeks ago. i finally turned and went all ‘two by two hands of blue’ as well, and it’s really not as bothersome as i thought it would be.

weekends are now slower than weekdays. i have no idea why that is. and i’m not really sure if these past weekends have been slow, or just normal, and the weekdays are just crazy. i have lost all points of reference. it’s still busy. but is it the same busy it’s always been on a saturday and now we just have more checkers?

the company is desperately trying to hire more people. i don’t know if the new vigorous ad campaign is working yet? it’s a job, sure, especially in these times, but the starting pay is still barely above minimum wage so in any case people will collect unemployment which could still be more than they’d make working here i’m just saying.

the only real perk right now is that whoever works for a grocery store has first dibs on stuff. and if you believe we don’t have a “family and friends stash” in the back of all the items that are scarce then you don’t know how the world works. a friend of mine with health problems came to shop at our store today because we do have more stuff than what i’ve been hearing is going on in surrounding areas. and i was able to give her two cans of disinfectant wipes. another friend asked me if we had any loo roll, and they just came by my place to pick it up, cash on arrival.

we also extend (or well, i do extend) the stash to customers who always have been courteous. and believe me, after working in one location for a few years you know exactly who’s an asshole and who isn’t. we are essential, we are important, and we’ve been known that forever. we just never got treated like that. people are thankful that we’re working, that we’re doing our best (like if we could afford to just take two weeks off to self isolate, yeah right), and it’s good to finally walk the store with your head held high, to finally feel the appreciation. we are the kings of the toilet paper and it’s fucking fantastic.

the store manager (or the company, i’m not sure) bought lunch today for everybody. and there might be a texas rule of no gatherings of more than 10 people, but y’all should’ve seen the break room today at noon. we they feasted (i took two slices and went out back to enjoy) thanks for lunch, boss.

we still haven’t implemented “senior hours,” and i hate that.

hygiene challenged dude is back at work. so he just had his two days off.

monday 03.23.2020 12pm - 9pm

people keep insisting on shopping “normally” and it’s mind boggling. if you go to the store for 5 things or 50 things, it’s fine either way. but please make a list at home and roll with it. do not linger in aisles, do not pick up 3 different items and stand there to study the, i don’t know what the fuck, ingredients? country of origin? manufacturer? i have no earthly idea why you gotta look at a bottle of suave shampoo so intently and just. stay. there. reading it like its a new product on the market. go home.

people just waste so much freakin time in the store. they run into acquaintances and have to have a conversation right there when other customers have to walk around you. please stop, please please stop that. please. get in, get your stuff, and get out. if we dont have your fave available right now come back next week, it’s bound to be back unless it’s something like hand sanitizer or over the counter meds. please. go home.

the shopping pattern has changed. there’s all the action in the mornings now. tons of people, full parking lots, all in the morning. i understand it’s because people are under the impression everything gets restocked over night. which is half true. but whatever. i mean people shop all throughout the day and it’s still busy but the bulk is in the morning.

speaking of: senior hours finally!!! i’m stoked.

i feel like i’m getting fed up with customer questions so it’s usually short retorts and no eyes contact. one guy asked me where the aloe vera is and he asked very friendly and from a few feet away and i was sort of a dick to him. i felt bad immediately and rephrased my answer. yikes.

on the upside also, my work buddy was throwing water all day long. poor guy. he said something like 9 pallets of 24 packs. at one point they were replenishing a display and people grabbed water from the display instead of the pallet, and he was like, “you guys are killing me, man, please take it from the pallet and not the display. every pack you take from the pallet is a pack less i have to move.” a couple of dudes then took over stocking duty from him and threw the rest of the pallet to fill the display. how fucking nice. good eggs all around.

backroom looks like we got a crap ton of paper products. a crap ton. something like, i’m estimating, 12 pallets. so they’ve been staggering it throughout the afternoon but also kept lots in the back for senior hours tomorrow morning. it really looks like that part is getting almost back to normal. lmao fingers crossed.

no eggs tho, today. all gone.

hot shot trucks still show up in the afternoon with produce and meat. and other stores still come by to transfer stuff to their location.

company lunch today was from torchy’s taco. i abstained cause i had just eaten at home. but gatherings of 10 or more people had been had in the break room again. no idea if it was paid for by our company or if torchy’s was just getting rid of a bulk of their perishables.

some dude threw a fit about the limits on certain items. i think his beef was with water and how he’s seen someone take more than three. calm down, asshole.

tuesday 03.24.2020 10am - 5pm

it’s slow in the store. dallas county has a shelter in place ordinance right now and it’s just a slow and steady trickle of customers. the weather also has turned from grey and misty, to sunshine and 80ies. i hate it. i want my grey and misty back. and because it’s nice outside there’s a lot of people on walks and bike rides. there’s a trail behind the store and when i step out back i see people all the times. still keeping their social distance but people non the less.

we’ve finally got our hands on one of the people from the agency that has provided us with help. our girl is super nice and friendly and she works hard. i hope we’ll get to keep her in our department for however long theyre working with us. altogether there’s about 15-20 people in the store from the agency. they’re tasked with sacking groceries, cleaning shopping carts, cleaning shelves and helping to stock. it’s wonderful. they get paid $13, which is more than what you make starting out in the store.

it almost felt like it wasn’t a covid day. after what the covidiot in the wh said on monday, i was a bit unsure if non essentials would reopen (especially since the mayor just shut dallas down). it was weird. it seemed like customers stayed away because a) they went back to work or b) it’s too nice to grocery shop. but that’s prob only my stupid brain making things up.

there were two incidents, both of which weren’t covid related but needed security: a dude tried to walk out with two cases of beer (theft is a thing that happens in our store a lot) but somehow he had half the store chasing after him. i was outside taking my break when all the sudden this guy comes towards me with beer in each hand. where i was, there was no exit away from the store unless you wanted to jump the fence. and he sure did. launched himself and the beer over it. they chased him off (no one touched him, i wanna add, and no one would touch him too, even if we weren’t in the current time), but got their beer back. that was an adrenaline shock i didn’t need. the second one was a lady at the pharmacy not happy with the speed of the pharmacist and she got upset that her meds weren’t ready to be picked up. she made quite a scene with cursings and such so security was called. they are doing their best at the pharmacy but just like every other department they are swamped with prescriptions.

it was super slow and i left an hour early. went home and ate and passed out for 12 hours.

wednesday 03.25.2020 7am - 3pm

it’s probs the first time i’m on the road this early on a weekday during the self isolation period. it’s quite busy on the highway. but still no real traffic.

store is still slow but steady. i see a few customers with big bascarts and shopping lists going about their business urgent like. on the inside i was applauding their readiness and their commitment for getting it done. thank you dear customers. buy a whole cart and get the heck outta dodge. *chefs kiss*

help girl from the agency is with me today. i like her more and more. she gets it all done. baby wipes are still off and on, some days we have them, sometimes we’re out. we found 3 small cases of hand soap in the back (6 bottles each) and they are gone quickly. i’m working through shippers/displays (we’ve finally got a smattering in) but most of it goes straight to the shelves. i’m able to make some sense to one of the half shampoo/half hersheys end caps, and my eye finally stops twitching from the weirdness.

grocery truck schedule has changed and now we’re getting them also on wednesdays (for the time being). one trailer of toilet roll and paper towels, and one of canned goods and boxes and pantry stuffs. and maybe some lysol but who knows.

it’s still sunny and 80ies out, so more runners and bikers on the trail behind the store. still social distancing tho.

the news said someone from a grocery store of another chain was diagnosed. and then through the grapevine i heard that someone from our chain (not our store) also got diagnosed and is in the hospital. wash your hands. get in, get your stuff, and get out. stay safe out there.

friday 03.27.2020 9am - 5pm

there’s this lady in the store, little old lady, just wandering and shopping and whatnot for, i kid you not, 2 hours. what in the world? she’s wearing a mask, kinda like a “let me put this mask on cause i’m sanding something in the garage” you know that kind of mask. but it’s only covering her mouth? what is she doing. where is your family? do they know where you are and what you’re up to. seriously someone come get their auntie.

there’s stickers all over the floor by the registers “PLEASE WAIT HERE” reminding people to stay the heck away from each other. it’s working sometimes. people are patient.

this one lady asks me if we have this, and shows me her phone with a pic of the item like she is seriously standing 6 feet away stretching her arm as far as it’ll go. i appreciate it. she insists that the app tells her it’s in stock here. i ran out of ways to explain that the app doesnt keep up with inventory, only states that we carry it, not whether we actually have it in stock. it’s a surface disinfectant. we dont have it in stock.

rando people say their thanks that we’re working, that they appreciate it, thank you thank you. i have yet to learn how to respond to that. “youre welcome?” “oh sure!” “no problem” nothing feels right. me and my co workers all wish we could work from home, or take a few weeks off, without losing our jobs and benefits. it’s weird. how do you respond to that?

we’ve managed to stay in stock on toilet tissue all day long. one brand, one size, mind you. but! all day long! yes, toilet paper, on aisle 18!!!!

sales have leveled. business is returning to normal.

saturday 03.28.2020 7am - 3 pm

some lady lost her cool today and in her frustration she dead ass kicked over a display of gum. lmao, yikes.

every morning we have a little meeting in the store for all the department heads, or if they’re off, for whoever plays department head for that day. on saturdays that’s me. we call them huddles, although now we can’t call them that anymore because huddle doesn’t really scream social distancing. so now they’ll call it morning communication.

while walking the store today i found, get this, a bottle of purell. it was hidden behind other product. i immediately checked my surroundings (no one there) and then went and hid it in the back room. my immuno challenged friend had asked me for some for a while.

really nothing else going on. it was quiet in the morning and then a storm blew through, and then it was just gorgeous out. so the store got busier and busier. our truck was scheduled to be quite big, but it was late and i wasn’t gonna just hang around until who knows when.

monday 03.30.2020 2pm - 10pm

the break room is completely empty of chairs and tables. that’s new. just last week everyone crowded in, employees and management alike, whenever there was free lunch. and even tho one tells them, or points out that, hey, this is a bit more than technically should be in a closed space like this? all one gets back is, oh hahaha, yeah you’re probably right, but nothing changed. so now the break room is empty. only, i dont know, everyone here works on their feet, either standing (poor checkers) or standing and walking. for up to eight hours. there’s gonna be some people who will just have to sit down for 30 mins during their breaks. this was a company wide, or district wide decision, this wasn’t something our management came up with. and here’s the thing. admittedly, some higher ups in our company are seriously not the sharpest tacks in the box. and i’m not saying that you have to have a degree to make certain decisions, but it helps if you have some sort of, i don’t know, compassion, deductive reasoning, two brain cells to rub together. i, personally, will hardly be found in the break room, i don’t use it. but it’s absolutely clear to me that taking away the opportunity to let people rest is a recipe for disaster.

tuesday, 03.31.2020 2pm - 10pm

so, the owner of the dallas mavericks (basket ball) donated hand sanitizers to our company, for use of company employees. which, thanks, Mark, that was super sweet of you. no really. IF I SEE ONE CO WORKER USE THIS INSTEAD OF WASHING THEIR HANDS I WILL NOT BE MADE RESPONSIBLE FOR MY ACTIONS. wash your god damned hands people. hand sanitizer will never be able to do what soap and water can do. why is that such a big problem to understand.

the break room has a couple of chairs and tables in it now, and a sign on the door that reads “6 people limit, 6 feet apart.” yikes.

its the end of the month and people got paid so the store is getting busier. tomorrow is the first and i’m sure we’ll be packed. please take the following to heart: SHOP ALONE. don’t bring your wifey or hubby or roommate or kids. ok bring your kids if you have no one to watch them. do not use the grocery store as your family outing cause its the only spot you think youre allowed to go. it’s not. youre allowed to go for walks, in front of your house, in your neighborhood, heck, walk a circle around the store if you want, but don’t bring everybody into the store. social distancing is easier achieved if there’s less people to stay away from. be smart, think ahead. and if you think that shopping with two people makes it go faster? it’s not. cause you’re gonna argue over the choices made, you’re gonna veto your shopping buddies choice of beans and your gonna walk every aisle twice instead of once. and there will be more people touching more things and i could really do with less of that.

wednesday 04.01.2020 11am - 7pm

there’s a distillery in kansas who has converted their production to make hand sanitizer (or sanitizer in general) and we have received a shipment of, i think, two pallets. the fun part? they are the size and shape of vodka bottles.

they’re selling for $8 and we put a limit of 1 per family. they look super neat. it’s a plastic bottle, too. i don’t use hand sanitizer and i dont need it and there are people who need these i guess but i want one so badly. just as a, you know, reminder, a token, of these crazy times. i’m not gonna get one (but i kinda want one).

they have finally installed screens at the registers. and new rules came down from corporate: social distancing is the highest priority, hygiene is the highest priority. we are only going to operate 3 (out of 6) registers so that we can ensure that there’s enough space for everyone to feel safe. i have also spent 2 hours today thinning out displays that are cluttering up the sales floor so that we can encourage everyone to keep apart.

starting tomorrow, every employee will get their temp taken when they arrive to work. if the temp is too high you will be sent home (but paid for that day) and only be let back in to work if your temp stays normal for 72 hours without the help of meds.

pay has been increased by $2/h.

friday 04.03.2020 9am - 5pm

face masks everywhere.

like 80% of everybody started donning masks, scarves and homemade things to cover their lower face. face masks are a stark reminder that everyone should keep apart. it’s like an extra “hey, remember how we’re all potentially sick with something deadly? stay away.” i appreciate the effect it has.

there are about 5 different announcements over the PA, one about washing your hands and sneezing/coughing into your elbows, one about senior hours (which have changed now to tue, thu and sat morning), one about social distancing (about the length of two shopping carts!), one about “we’re all in this together” and one about us employees and how we’re doing so much more than our job right now.

ive stopped greeting customers. i smile maybe, since it’s something so ingrained into our brain, but i won’t speak unnecessarily.

the store is absolutely packed. the suggestion of staying away until the 3rd or the 4th that ive seen all over the internets seems to have cottoned on and now we’re slammed. with only 3 registers open now (to keep room between registers) the lines are down the aisles. one of the guys on the registers told me he loved it. it’s waaay less crowding around the registers, safer for the workers).

we have two entrances (the main one and a smaller one) and they closed the smaller one because it’s very tight there and doesn’t really work with trying to stay away from each other. it’s not locked, it’s just closed. no idea about the fire marshall code, but i have worked in bigger stores with only one main entrance so maybe it’s not part of any code.

i saw a woman with a vegas golden knights shirt and i miss hockey.

saturday 04.04.2020 7am - 5:30pm

my first day during senior hours, and admittedly we’ve only recently changed that but there are tons of people in the store and not a lot of seniors. but what do i know they all could be immunocompromised.

in our morning huddle communications meeting the store manager is spitting out a lot of numbers and percentiles and such, basically sales are still through the roof, even with the slower week we’ve had. it’s funny how there’s really no reference point anymore. forecasts and budgets have all been altered due to the situation but even those are still behind. the agency people aren’t with us anymore (since sunday) and i can see maybe 2 new people - but i’m not a reliable source for that because i don’t inter-mingle with other departments that much so i dont even know the regulars so i have no clue who is new. but we’re still running on basically the same people we’ve always had with this increased business.

aceotone is the new toilet paper. cant find it on the shelves, the warehouse is out and people are constantly asking for it. this one guy had me in stitches. he was shopping for the fam and had a list from his wife and you know, acetone, cuticle cream all the stuff you need to take care of your nails after you rip off the fake ones. i used to get my nails done so i gave him advice as best i could and pointed to some products, but no acetone. about five minutes later she finds me on the same aisle again and shows me a can of paint stripper with the word acetone in huge letters on it. i died. i told him that if his wife used that they are about to have a whole other set of problems. we both laughed. he had a great sense of humor. now go home, dude.

the side door that was closed on friday is open again. not surprised.

we are getting absolutely slammed with business. it’s a mad house. you can always tell when people start to park their cars on the fire lanes around the store. there’s just no more parking.

i do see a lot of single shoppers tho, which is so great. and then you got the families just sticking out like sore thumbs. and young college kids usually shop in threes or fours. but everybody is still taking way too much time. there was an article i read on local grocers and how some already reduced the people inside the stores and how every business is going to follow suit so we will see.

we ran out of eggs. and biscuits. and no significant numbers of paper products all week.

monday 04.06.2020 2pm - 10pm

fuck these customers, man

wednesday 04.08.2020 7am - 3pm

my company will not limit the customer count in the store. at least not in this state. when the whole thing started there was an email about store hours and they listed basically every division of our company and their changed hours - except, you guessed it, ours. i have a feeling they are going off of what other companies are doing around here, so unless theyre limiting people, we won’t. that’s my opinion. after work i realized i forgot butter and swung by a store (from a different company) close to home and they havent limited entrance either. they did have markings on the floor to encourage one way traffic down aisles, and i guess we’re gonna do that too. but nothing else. i did see smaller chains have started to limit people but not companies we’re competing with. so much for that. i guess first we need to have a few positive cases in order for them to change anything. the dollar speaks volumes, eh?

i saw this article a few days ago and i keep thinking about it. it basically sums up everything that’s going through all our minds every day. (i have no idea who this website is, i saw it and i read it and it spoke to me so dont come at me if it’s something weird - i just wanted to provide a source)

I manage a grocery store.

Here’s some things everyone should know

1. I don’t have toilet paper 2. I don’t have sanitizer 3. I run out of milk, eggs and meat daily 4. I promise if it’s out on the shelf … it’s not in a hidden corner of our backroom.

Those are the predictable ones, now for the real stuff

5. I have been doing this for 25 years I did not forget how to order product. 6. I did not cause the warehouse to be out of product/ 7. I schedule as much help as I have, including many workers working TONS of overtime to help YOU. 8. I am sorry there are lines at the check out lanes.

Now for the really important stuff:

9. My team puts themselves in harm’s way every day so you can buy groceries. 10. My team works tirelessly to get product on the floor for you to buy. 11. My team is exhausted. 12. My team is scared of getting sick. 13. My team is human and does not possess an antivirus… they are in just as much danger as you are. (Arguably more) but they show up to work every day just so you can buy groceries 14. My team is tired. 15. My team is very under-appreciated. 16. My team is exposed to more people who are potentially infected in one hour than most of you will in a week (medical community excluded, thank you for all that you do!). 17. My team is abused all day by customers who have no idea how ignorant they are. 18. My team disinfects every surface possible, everyday, just so you can come in grab a wipe from the dispenser, wipe the handle and throw the used wipe in the cart or on the ground and leave it there… so my team can throw it in the trash for you later. 19. My team wonders if you wash your re-usable bags, that you force us to touch, that are clearly dirty and have more germs on them than our shopping carts do. 20. My team more than earns their breaks, lunches and days off. And if that means you wait longer I am sorry.

The last thing I will say is this:

The next time you are in a grocery store, please pause and think about what you are saying and how you are treating the people you encounter. They are the reason you are able to buy toilet paper, sanitizer, milk, eggs, and meat.

If the store you go to is out of an item.. maybe find the neighbor or friend that bought enough for a year … there are hundreds of them… and ask them to spare 1 or 2. They caused the problem to begin with…

And lastly, please THANK the people who helped you. They don’t have to come to work!

#i dont know how to tag it i hate to tag it covid #i think it's gonna be #life in these pandemic times #thanks stumblingoverchaos

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shaekingshitup · 4 years

Text

Shae’s First Date

For anyone who is bored: the most brief (that I can recap because ya girl is a lengthy heaux) summary of my first date goes as follows:

EDIT: THIS SHIT AIN'T BRIEF. SORRY NOT SORRY 🤷🏿‍♀️🤷🏿‍♀️ But I put a TLDR at the end.

I matched with a guy on Bumble who had some cool hobbies and some of which overlapped with mine. We talked daily for almost 2 weeks before we met up in person and the guy was a very big charmer/woo-er. Like if I was messaging this kid I was constantly laughing and smiling

Tbh this was a lil bit of a red flag to me becauae I'm like: "no one is this charming. Something has gotta be up" & I legit came up with a few different scenarios. But I chose to shelf them because people do that to me all the time.

Like I'm just a really loving person and I will gas people up or go out of my way to make them happy if I can and people always want to try me like that can't truly be how/who I am or if I'm doing it it's because I'm trying to get at that person and they are always wrong. All the way from best friends to new acquaintances I really just like when people are happy. I mean the world's shitty already, if I can make your day easier or put smile on your face I'm game!

So we're on the phone one night (stayed up to 3 am sacrificing my sleep talking to this dude 🙄) talking more about who we are as people, what we're looking for in an ideal partner, etc. I told him straight up both via call and via message that honesty is really important to me. I value honesty with myself and also with others.

So also in this late night call things got a lil spicy 🌶 🌶 I was honest and told him that I'm pretty much a blank slate. Never fucked/sucked, etc or had anything like that done to me. He was taken aback like everyone I share this with is. Apparently I'm some sort of unicorn 🦄 out here in these streets to all y'all hoes. He makes a comment about stealing a kiss from me the next night and I said "I might allow it."

But the point is. I told him what it was. I was honest. That's my truth.

I didn't tell him that I'd never been on a date/kissed anyone because he didn't ask. Maybe if I would've said something, things would've been different. But I can't "what if" what's already happened y'all!

SO, day of. We messagin and snapping. I'm allll ready. We're going to a drive in and I'd never been to one before so I'm excited. I'm also just committed to making this a good time because I easily get distracted and often don't stop to take my experiences in to experience them fully. So I said not today!!

I got snacks. All of his favs and some of mine. I brought drinks and a blanket. I looked good.

Like I said in my pre-date post: I didn't have any lofty ideas about this dude being my soul mate or anything but I anticipated a good time.

He picked me up at our designated location. My sister met him and got his license plate; because apparently I had enough sense to realize I didn't know this nigga but not enough sense to later realize I didn't know this nigga.

It wasn't gonna take as long to get to the drive in as originally anticipated. So we went to a local park and sat in the car and talked because the park was PACKED and ya know RONA!

It was somewhat awkward because it was our first time talking face to face. But we found a groove and I'm extroverted af y'all. So, I can get people to have a conversation.

Topics range from our days, music and conspiracy theories which he's really into. What kind? Like: Shakespeare wrote the Bible is one. A lot of people that we know from media aren't really the original ones that we were introduced to is another. Ya know like that Beyoncé is not the real Beyoncé. There's two Trumps. There's two Hilary Clintons etc.

So at this point sensible me is like: this can be the point where you go home girl. You're 5 minutes away from your place. You can just say this ain't workin and cut it short.

OPTIMISTIC/BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT GIVIN/NAIVE SILLY ME IS LIKE: well, I 100% don't agree with anything you're saying just because you're saying it. But ya know, I don't know everything and I'm not in the business of judging people-especially since we just met and I don't want this human to feel uncomfortable. So, okay. I don't agree. But I won't judge. Let's just continue on.

If you haven't guessed by now which me I listened to, you may be just as silly as I am 🙃🙃🙃

But obviously I continued on and that's what I call mistake #1

So we're driving to the drive in. I'm realizing we're kind of different in ways. Most notable is that dude was raised Jehovah's Witnesses and celebrates 0 holidays & I'm in love with Halloween and at least birthdays.

We miss the drive in entrance due to my poor navi skills & he decides to smoke before we pull in. He offers it to me and I accept. This is mistake #2

Ya girl hasn't smoked in 6 years. I tried edibles recently. But that shit ain't the same. I really just feel like I said I wanted to be present and then I smoked and I was tired and everything was kind of dull?

So I'm high and sleepy but still a lil excited because it's my first drive in!! We get there and park and the drive in is really just a giant protection screen we all park in front of. Lmao. 😅 Idk what I was expectin but not that. But it was still cool. It's 10 and this movie still hasn't started because the last one is still showin credits.

Dude says he wants to chill in the back but he's going to the bathroom. I AM SLEEPY. THAT IS WHAT WEED DOES TO ME. Plus I was on the phone til 3 AM. So I'm like imma close my eyes before this thing starts since it's already late.

So while he goes to the bathroom I legit laid down in the back on a pillow because ya girl is a sleepy heaux 😴

He comes back and pits the pillow in his lap and is talking to me because this movie ain't started yet. My eyes are closed but I'm listening and everything and he's massaging my shoulders and whatnot. Eventually advertisements about common courtesy come on and what not. But that's not important and I don't move.

Soo he says something I'M ASSUMING IT WAS ABOUT THE KISS (I don't remember y'all. I'm about to skimp on some of these details because that high was really kickin in and I was feelin foggy.) But, I said "I would allow it." And he kissed me.

It honestly felt anticlimactic as fuck. Yeah my mind is kind of foggy because of the weed so I feel like I wasn't as fully cognizant as I would have been if I was sober minded. But also, it just happened

I'm in my head af. I've never done this and I'm sure I'm shit at it but I'm trying not to be ya know? Dude's tongue is in my mouth. His hand is under my romper.

So, I'm a roll with the punches kind of human and the rest of the film we pretty much are making out (lowkey meh), groping (I hate this word) & watching Deadpool ( for people who needed that detail)

As previously stated, all of this shit is new to me. But, I'm also not a "prude". I chose not to kiss/fuck anyone prior to this because it was what I wanted for a period of time. I couldn't do much in the date department because I was just not approached often or by people I wanted to entertain. But the opportunities for all that physical shit were presented and I chose not to just like I chose to engage in those activities on this date. I'm real big on not judging nor regretting those choices because those were what I wanted at one point and that's it. Soo if you got opinions about what I was out here doin, keep em to yaself.

We ended up making out and I feel like it was cool.. but just not great. We did other shit minus actual fucking. But it all just felt pretty muted to me. Not bad. Not uncomfortable. Just not great and I think in hindsight it was because I a) really didn't know and have an established connection with this dude and b) I was high.

He really wanted me to suck his dick and I was really hesitant to do that. Not even that much because I was checking off a lot of "firsts' or anything like that but because I swore I was gonna be shit at it due to 0 experience and that was what I told him. Like, I wanna be good at shit and also I would like if the person I was hooking up with was actually enjoying being with me ya know? Is that not a thing? Y'all just be out here tryna get ya nut and say fuck it to whomever you with? Lemme be a unicorn then. 🦄

But anyways, I did this and he says like nothing. I'm in my head af trying to recall upon all of my BP smut I've read and trying not to suck at sucking (SO THANKS TO ALL OF Y'ALL WHO BE WRITING SMUT!!). After a few minutes the car turns off and Ryan Reynold's ain't talking anymore. Sooo I take this as a sign that I should stop and tell him as much.

He turns the car back on so we can still hear the movie & I'm pretty much like half watching the movie and talking to him like: "Soooo. I did that and I feel like I was right." To which he responds, "I've had worse," which is like ya know the compliment of the century and the most reassuring feedback you can give someone who is insecure about shit they've never done.

We still ended up making out and I gave him a handjob and finished the movie. I can't recall if it was at this point or when he drove me home but he basically implied that I was a liar and that is the shit that literally makes me wanna go back in time and tell former me to never say yes to a date with this nigga.

He drove me home and I was pretty quiet listening to Ari Lennox (💕) and thinking/processing. He gets to my place and we're talking now that we're parked and tells me that he thought I probably wasn't right about never having sex before. He told me I probably just had sex like 3 years ago and it had been so long that's why I said that and that's why my pussy is so tight.

So, I'm real life hurt. I like to consider myself to be someone who has a good character and I am really big on honesty.

So I asked him why he said that if I told him from jump what it was. He told me that his ex lied a lot and that he just couldn't believe me..

And I know for certain that his assumption was independent of any of my actions. He literally just told me so. He projected his insecurities onto me. But I'm a sensitive ass heaux and that shit still shook me. PBS raised me right. I don't be out here lyin & I don't like when people try to tell me who tf I am.

We pretty much just ended up arguing about the night and he was doing it on purpose because he thinks it's sexy when women are mad. But when I get mad, I get done. If I let enough shit slide and you have the audacity to try and flip my script, I will fucking write you out of it.

Then I looked up at the time and realized I was sitting in this car arguing with nigga for at least 25 minutes. So I was just like: bitch, why are you still here?

I told him straight up that when I got out of that car he could forget about talking to me altogether and he was like: "I'll let you know when I make it home."

I told him he need not bother because apparently I'd finally gained some damn sense. I exited the car. He left. He hit me up when he made it home but I just deleted the app and removed him off of snap because I meant that shit.

TLDR; Went on my first date with a conspiracy theorist I matched with on Bumble and he told me I lied about my lack of sexual history.

#bumble #first date #drive in #story time #short stime #i need my mutuals to pray for me #because lordt #deadpool #ryan reynolds #ari lennox #personal #mine #big time sigh #im sorry I can't add the keep reading tab on mobile tk!

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dollswow · 3 years

Text

Encounter

A story about my warcraft oc’s, Lyrinde and Tsuuli I’ve been writing on and off for a little while now, about how they meet.

Characters: Lyrinde (night elf demon hunter) & Tsuuli (Zandalari troll paladin)

Story: ~4800 words (jfc, me), non-explicit sexual situations, minor sass. Set shortly after end of the 4th war.

As far as being stranded in what was questionably enemy territory went, Lyrinde supposed it could be worse. She floated lazily in a small, refreshingly chill pool near the summit of one of Zuldazar’s lush mountain peaks. The blaze of the late morning sun was oppressive as ever. It was tempered though by the cool water, the foliage overhead filtering some of the sun’s rays out, and the general peace of her crash site.

She spared a thought and a frown for her poor mount’s condition, after their escape from a flock of especially aggressive pterrordaxes flying through Nazmir’s southern swamps. Lixahl was formidable both in a fight and in flight, and her sharp talons and agile maneuvers had secured their escape. Somehow though, the steep ascent of their chase into Zandalar’s main province had caused her to sprain a wing. They’d landed on the top of an isolated mountain, where Lyrinde had been quick to immobilize the felbat’s injured limb. Searching for cover around the summit, it wasn’t very long at all before they located a dusty, disused cave perfect for Lixahl to roost in while she recuperated. Following the sound of water a little ways out from the cave and through the vegetation, Lyrinde came upon the clearing where she now rested.

Of course, proper safety measures had been taken. Once she’d taken water back to Lixahl and secured the site, she used the strange Gnomish messaging device given to her for just such an emergency, to communicate her location and predicament to the extraction team. The site seemed truly secluded, with thick overgrowth showing no footpaths up, and only signs of sparse wildlife tracks. She had little else to do but wait.

The machine sent a small drone carrying her message to a predetermined location. A homing device of sorts, though she’d soon gotten lost in the technical terms of Kelsey’s explanation of exactly how it worked. All she remembered was that it would probably be a day or so before she could expect any kind of return communication.

She sighed, and sank a little further into the water with the exhale. If circumstances had been different, the location would be idyllic. Idle birdsong, nearly drowned out by the soft bubbling of the wellspring feeding the pool, and the whispering rush and distant crash of the waterfall spilling from it’s rocky edge, combined with the warmth of the sun on her body, the cool feel of her hair swirling about her in the water, unbound from it’s tight braid for once, the gentle rustling of the brush and a twig snapping—

She was lunging out of the water in a blink, already gripping the glaives she’d placed at the pool’s edge for just such a necessity, growling as she swung the sharpened blades into place; one to rest at the intruder’s throat, one poised and ready to slice him across his belly.

“How did you find me?!” Lyrinde demanded, teeth bared in a snarl. “What do you want?”

She was vaguely aware that the tall troll in front of her had dropped a wooden pail he’d been carrying, and seemed to be without weapons or armor. The golden glow of a protective spell shimmered around his body however, marking him out as one of the Zandalari’s elite paladins; capable of wielding the powers of light even without a sword or shield.

He held his hands up at chest level, and though she’d spoken to him in Common out of habit, he answered in Zandali. “I was not looking for you, Miss Elf.” He paused, and his eyes obviously dipped to focus below the blades that were ready to strike. “But what a find to have made, this fine day. The loa have truly blessed me.”

Lyrinde then took time to realize the pail he had been carrying seemed to be full of bathing supplies, and also to recall that her clothing was drying on a nearby rock, where she’d laid it after washing the dirt of travel out of it. It had seemed fortuitous that she’d had the opportunity to clean her garments as well as bathe at the time, but now she was caught out, literally naked.

At least she had her weapons. Even if Horde and Alliance were at a truce for the moment, she could hardly expect that a troll wouldn’t be opposed to her presence in his home territory. The war was barely over, after all. She backed away, weapons still at the ready just in case.

“I mean not to intrude upon your lands,” she spoke in halting Zandali, “and will leave at first opportunity.”

“Where is the fun in that?” The paladin’s eyes were back to her face, though he was grinning—actually grinning!—at her now. “I should like to know more about you, and how it came to be that the loa have guided you here, to my private retreat.”

She dropped her weapons a fraction, still wary that he would attack, and said, slowly, “It is only accident that brought me here, nothing more.”

He gave a little “Tsk!” at her and, telegraphing his movements clearly so as not to appear to be readying an attack, knelt to collect his toiletries back into his pail. Once he finished, he stood again and met her eye.

“Miss Elf,” he began, sounding like a lecturer, “this retreat was created by myself and my brother, who used his shamanistic powers to divert the upwelling of water here, where I assisted in the formation of the pool’s borders and, as you may have noticed, seating within the water along the edges for better relaxation, although you had cleverly bypassed such amenities, it would seem, by simply floating—“

“You talk a lot for glorified manual labor,” she cut in, impatient. She gripped her glaives tighter, half expecting him to take offense and decide to attack after all.

He only looked startled for a moment, perhaps needing to parse her strange, stilting accent, then burst out laughing.

She lowered her weapons all the way, relaxing her stance, and frowned at him. He was so taken with giggles that she even saw him wipe a tear from his eye. “Is there something wrong with you?” she demanded.

As he caught his breath, he looked to the sky, ignoring her question and mounting agitation. “Loa help me,” he said, still smiling, “but I think I’m in love.”

She knew he was being facetious, but his words still caused her to take a half step back. Was he trying to lower her guard, in order to take her by surprise for an attack? She needed to be cautious, just in case. There might be other threats nearby. He might not have been alone, only ahead of any others coming, this strange behavior a ploy to distract her until backup arrived.

She empowered her spectral sight, to see deeper into the shadows, through more layers of the jungle surrounding them, to see if he was hiding anything.

Oh… she thought.

“Oh!” she breathed out, involuntary.

His gaze had dropped again, and, well. Expecting treachery lurking in the forest behind him, what she found instead was that he was not unaffected by her appearance, standing in front of him with her weapons drawn, but without armor, without clothing, flushed from the adrenaline and fel fire coursing through her body. It appeared the only thing he was hiding was a growing interest in her nudity.

Well, she was stuck here for at least the day, and possibly the night, too. He was handsome, seemed disinclined to fight, and physically attracted to her. Might as well have some fun, right?

She grinned at him when he realized he’d been caught staring, feral and toothy, and stalked forward.

Lyrinde woke up slowly, warm and heavy-limbed, the impromptu nap leaving her sluggish, but well-rested. As her senses came back to her, she realized several things that should have worried her, and might have if she wasn’t feeling so satisfied.

One of these things was that she wasn’t directly on her bedroll; she was lying on top of a well-muscled, warm body, gently rising and falling with each breath. She could feel hands resting loosely on her lower back. The large, three-fingered hands of a troll.

She knew what she’d done was dangerous and would earn her a lecture, at the very least. Disciplinary action was more probable, armistice be damned. She burrowed her face into the chest beneath her for a moment, and the hands on her back tightened their embrace to hold her more firmly in place. She could tell by the troll’s—Tsuuli, he’d told her was his name—breathing and slow, steady heartbeat that he was still asleep.

He’d certainly earned the rest. It wasn’t every man that could keep up with her.

She chuckled to herself, and the motion must’ve roused Tsuuli, as she felt him beginning to stir. She turned her head to the side, taking in the last vestiges of the sunset blazing around them. They’d begun their activities shortly before midday, and hadn’t gone in for more than a brief respite until perhaps the third hour of the afternoon. Then, they’d finally settled in more or less their current position, after approximately three quarters of an hour together in the spring, cleaning up, getting messy again, and cleaning up all over again.

So the nap had been about two hours. A day well-spent, she thought.

Now though, it was time to send him packing so she could check up on Lixahl, and make sure she was prepared for the extraction team that must be on it’s way.

Bracing her hands on Tsuuli’s broad chest, she made to push herself to her feet. Instead, she found herself being flipped over onto the bedroll beneath them, tangled in the blanket that’d been draped over her backside.

She squawked, and experienced a brief moment of wild fury at being betrayed now, after the time they’d spent together enjoying themselves, her adrenaline spiking as her mind raced, planning for retaliation and a fight likely to the death.

The sting of betrayal Lyrinde felt ebbed away as soon as it’d come however, when she realized Tsuuli was nuzzling at her neck, embracing her as a lover would, not as an enemy searching out vulnerable points. She felt the press of his upturned tusks, his lips moving over the racing pulse in her neck, the deep rumble in his chest as he hummed out a chuckle.

“You thought I was going to try to kill you, yes?” he asked, leisurely stroking her flank with one hand as he continued to kiss his way from just behind her ear down to the juncture of neck and shoulder. He lingered there for a moment, then raised up onto his elbows to look at her.

Her vision was still hazed with green from the expectation of battle, but she could see him peering at her, saw as he brought his hand from her side to rub his thumb over her cheekbone, gently skirting the edge of her blindfold.

She reached up to grasp his wrist, not to move his hand, but to ground herself. He began to lean in, and just before his lips touched hers, she murmured, “You might have tried, but you would not have succeeded.”

“You must go back.”

“Lyrinde, technically, you are the intruder here, being a member of the Alliance in Zuldazar. I know you said you were on your way out of Zandalar, as the terms of the armistice dictate. But, as I am sure you are aware, the Zandalari have allied with the Horde, and from what I have learned over the course of the war—are you making ‘talky’ motions with your hand at me?”

“I am, because you talk incessantly.” Lyrinde sat back from attaching her bedroll to her pack. “An extraction team is coming for me, and it would be unwise for you to be here with me when they arrive.”

It was full dark now, and their only light was from a small campfire in the clearing. Tsuuli sat on the other side of the fire, watching her finish up her preparations. They’d both dressed again, Lyrinde’s hair tied back into it’s long braid. She crouched on her side of the fire, and gazed over at him as he sat quietly, for once, his eyes directed into the flames and seeming pensive, chewing his lower lip.

“If it’s the darkness that you wish to avoid, I can give you a small lantern,” she began. “It would ease your way home—”

She was interrupted by a small, metal thing slamming into her chest. It didn’t hurt, but it’s wild fluttering combined with the impact pushed her back onto her rear from her crouch, and she wrenched it off of herself with a snarl, ready to throw it into the fire.

“Wait—” Tsuuli was kneeling at her side in a heartbeat, one large hand at her back, steadying her, the other gently prying the now still item from her grip. “It is some kind of device, perhaps from your contact?”

She snatched it from his hand, petulant. Then she took a steadying breath and said, “Sorry. You’re right.”

It was similar to the device she’d sent upon arrival, though fashioned after a small bird. She unscrewed the head, “Morbid,” she thought, and pulled out a tightly coiled scroll.

The message was encoded, but easily enough deciphered, as she’d committed the key to memory before setting out on this mission.

She read out loud for Tsuuli’s benefit, “Expect extraction two hours past dawn. Stay safe.”

She let the scroll fall into her lap as she pressed the heels of her hands into her eye sockets, letting out a groan. “I thought they’d be here tonight.”

“Well, no use pouting. We should make the best of it, yes?”

Lyrinde huffed. “We aren’t making the best of anything.” She poked Tsuuli in the chest with one finger. “You still need to go back to your home.”

“Now, now,” Tsuuli soothed, taking her hand in his, “the night will be safer with two of us.” He tipped his head to one side, considering. “You could...come to my home? No,” he dismissed, “no, I live too far into the city, you would be discovered. I will have to stay here with you.” He gave her what he clearly thought was a winning smile.

And damn it all, if he wasn’t growing on her. She let her shoulders slump a little. “I must go check on Lixahl—my mount—” she clarified, “and I’d thought to spend the night in the cave where she rests.”

“Oh, the cave just around the summit from here, yes?” He waited for her confirmation, then continued, “Yes, I know the one. It will provide a perfect shelter from the damp of night. We should smother this fire before moving there.”

Lyrinde briefly thought to warn him off of coming to the cave, that Lixahl was likely to be hostile, but she’d already accepted that he wouldn’t listen. Or more precisely, he’d talk for several minutes without actually saying anything, and then still tag along no matter how much she tried to convince him otherwise. Besides, she had some of the anti-venom that would clear up a bite from Lixahl. It wouldn’t hurt—much.

Probably.

“You said you had a lantern?”

She shook herself out of her reverie to unhook the lantern from her pack. Handing it to him so he could light it with the last of the fire before he covered it over with damp earth, the embers scattered and burnt out. He stood, brushing the dirt from his hands, and holding an arm out to her.

Paladins.

She snorted softly and took it, allowing him to escort her to the cave, through the brush.

Lyrinde couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She stood still, hands uselessly hanging at her sides, mouth slightly open, as she watched Lixahl, fierce matriarch of the felwings of Mardum, happily receive scritches from Tsuuli.

She suspected the sweet tropical fruits he detoured to pick on the way to the cave helped bribe Lixahl’s good favor, but Lyrinde’s mount just really seemed to enjoy the attention. He’d managed to work his way under Lixahl’s armor to scratch behind her ears, which must’ve been the winning move.

“I think she likes me!” he said, unnecessarily.

“I suppose she does,” Lyrinde shrugged, finally moving to action and bending to unclasp her bedroll and lay it out.

She felt him sidle up behind her before he smoothed his hands down her arms, effectively halting her progress, and the rumble of his voice reverberated through her back as he drew her against his chest, “She is a sweet girl, but don’t tell her I like you best.”

Lyrinde turned in his arms and said, “Fancy words when we’ll never see each other again after I get out of here.”

“Nonsense.”

“What do you mean, nonsense?”

“Nonsense!” Tsuuli grinned and held her tighter. “The loa sent me to you. You to me. Do you think I am going to give that up easily?”

Lyrinde huffed, “I crashed, no one sent me—“

“On the very day I decided to visit the grotto, after being away for more than a year! It had been so long, the footpath was completely grown over and wild.” He hunched down, burying his face in her neck. “If it was any other day, I would have missed you.”

She hesitated, then said, “Still, I am leaving. First to Kul Tiras, then back to Stormwind. You are Horde—“

“Meet me in Dalaran.”

“—and, what?”

“I am traveling soon, and will be going to Dalaran in two months time. Meet me there.” He pulled back, resting his hands on either side of her neck, stroking his thumbs over her cheeks. “Please?”

“I—that is not something I can commit to.” She turned her head to gaze in Lixahl’s direction. “I don’t even know what my next assignment is yet,” she murmured.

Tsuuli considered her for a moment, then offered, “Perhaps we can write to each other. I believe the goblins can route mail anywhere, even to members of the Alliance. Do you have spare parchment I can write my address on for you?”

He was coming up with plans all on his own, and Lyrinde could only wordlessly retrieve the writing implements for him, still reeling a little from his invitation as she was. She even let him coax the address of her rooms in Stormwind out of her. At least she wasn’t in the Illidari camp anymore. She doubted she’d be able to receive mail there without nosy demon hunters prying into her affairs. Sometimes others of her kind could be very annoying, she thought with a snort.

“What are you thinking about over there?”

Instead of answering, she shook her head and moved to inspect where he’d finished laying out the bedding. There had been an old fire pit in the back of the cave, and after he’d shown her the vents in the ceiling that lead to the outside and assured her they would not suffocate from smoke inhalation, she’d agreed to let him make a new campfire there. He was quite handy with her flint and tinder kit, and had set the bedroll close by the cheery little blaze. Zuldazar was a warm territory, but at this altitude especially, she’d already begun to feel the chill of night, and was glad for the heat.

She also wondered at Tsuuli, still only wearing the brief wrap about his waist he’d arrived at the grotto in, having only expected to stay for a relaxing bathing session during the heat of day.

As she approached, he stood and moved towards her, his profile glowing with the firelight. “Are you not cold?” she asked as he stepped closer. She absentmindedly lifted a hand up to the golden tattoos on his chest at her eye-level, ghosting her fingers along the bold lines. The muscles of his abdomen contracted, and she looked up to find him gazing at her, an indecipherable look on his face.

“The grace of the loa keeps me warm,” he said before cracking a smirk. “As does my burning passion.”

Lyrinde would’ve rolled her eyes, had she still been in possession of them. She settled for an exaggerated sigh.

“Has anyone ever told you that you are ridiculous?”

“Of course, Miss Elf,” he replied with a laugh. “It is part of my charm!”

“Charm,” she echoed. “I’m not sure that’s the word I would have used.”

As she spoke, however, she reached up to hook a finger around one of his tusks, pulling him down to meet her upturned face.

That’s one way to silence him, she thought, before being lost in the moment.

“Wake up, you oaf!”

“I refuse.”

Tsuuli’s breath puffed against Lyrinde’s neck, and she could feel a deep rumbling hum emanating from his chest, though it was very nearly sub-vocal. He clung to her like a barnacle on a ship; arms wrapped around her middle, and a leg draped over hers, pinning her in his embrace.

She was actually terribly, horribly comfortable, and could’ve luxuriated in such a position for a couple more hours at least. But, dawn was breaking, and she needed to prepare for her rescue party’s arrival.

Tsuuli could not be there when they came. She shuddered to think at what might happen if he were.

“Lyrinde,” he mumbled into her skin.

“Yes?”

“Lyrinde,” he repeated, nuzzling behind her ear.

“Tsuuli,” she said with a little huff.

He finally loosened his grip enough so she could begin to extract herself from the tangle of his limbs. When she was free, she turned where she sat to look at him, still laying on his side and watching her.

He reached a hand out, and ran a finger along her jawline. “You will write to me, yes?”

She thought to just say yes, with no intention of doing so.

“I—”

He sat up to face her, and leaned in, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “I will write to you,” he said. “You may reply if you wish.”

“I—I would like to,” she blurted, a little too forcefully. She felt heat in her cheeks. Ridiculous, she thought, frowning. She hadn’t felt shame at facing a would-be enemy while fully nude, but the prospect of corresponding with someone made her stomach flutter? And someone with whom she’d already been extremely intimate?

She shook her head and stood, bouncing on her toes to get the blood flowing into her sleep-heavy limbs. Tsuuli stood as well, shaking out her camp blanket and rolling it neatly, before stooping to do the same with the bedroll. Lyrinde watched him work, efficient and tidy, seemingly at odds with his somewhat goofy personality.

But he -is- a Zandalari paladin, not some common townsman, or foot soldier, she reminded herself.

As she watched him take the bedding to her pack, securing it in place, she decided she could make an effort. It wouldn’t hurt anything, after all, to write a few letters. It would break up the post-war monotony once she was back in Stormwind at least.

Right?

“You really must be going home now,” she began. Tsuuli turned to face her, tall and imposing as he was, looking grave; accepting her statement for the inevitable truth.

He let a breath out, not quite a sigh, but suggesting one. “Yes,” he agreed, “I suppose it is time.”

He turned to face the cave entrance and walked towards Lixahl, stopping to give her a scratch behind the ear. Lyrinde walked up next to him, watching him keenly.

He faced her, and drew in a breath. “Lyrinde,” he began.

She cut him off, reaching up and pulling him down by the neck, standing on her toes to reach him better, kissing the breath out of him. Her fingers found their way into his hair, bumping against the golden circlet he wore, threading through the thick strands to hold him where she wanted him better, anchoring herself as he wound his arms around her and let her take all she wanted.

When she finally relented, sinking back down onto her heels and ducking her head as he stood upright again, she said, into his chest, “Write me, and I will write you back.”

She splayed her hands on his sides, slid them to his stomach and pushed herself a step back, finally looking up at him again. “I will be expecting a letter when I arrive in Stormwind.”

Tsuuli smiled at her, and she was charmed. Reluctantly charmed, but charmed all the same.

“‘Twas a lucky landing spot, it was!”

Lyrinde hummed agreement as the Wildhammer agents strapped Lixahl into the special harness they’d brought to airlift the felbat to the ship. She’d attempted to help, to keep herself occupied when they first arrived, but she’d been very politely shunted off to the side so they could do their work properly without her getting in the way.

Gryphon rescue wasn’t entirely unexpected, and she did like the fierce dwarves, but she still found her mind wandering. Most of all, she wanted to figure out why she was, well, mooning over a troll, of all people.

She sighed.

“Don’t worry lass, the ol’ girl will be just fine and well get ‘er back to the stable master to get fixed up in no time.”

“Thank you,” Lyrinde replied, firmly giving herself a mental shake.

No time for distractions. The dwarves were finishing up their flight preparations, and it was time to leave Zandalar, and everyone in it, for good.

Epilogue

After the third try, Lyrinde finally slotted the key into the keyhole of the door to her rooms. She’d been waylaid nearly an hour and a half ago, getting stopped for drinks and chatter in the inn’s tavern. After several rounds with some friends as well as some new faces, she retrieved her key from the innkeeper and made a stumbling retreat.

She was happy for the warm welcome and the company, but she was tired.

She’d only spent a couple days in Kul Tiras before the long journey by ship back to the Eastern Kingdoms, and finally, finally into Stormwind harbor. With no upcoming missions, and orders only to, “Get some rest, champion!” she fully intended to spend at least a couple days lounging in or near her bed.

Dropping her bags inside the door and tapping the rune on the wall that activated the room’s soft, magical lamps, she locked up behind herself, fully intending to fall flat on her face into the newly refreshed bedding.

She started towards the bedroom to do just that, when something caught her eye—a stack of letters on her table. She wasn’t surprised the staff would’ve brought her mail in when they were preparing her rooms for her return, but that she had mail at all. Unless—

—unless Tsuuli really did write to her.

She honestly thought he wouldn’t, despite his insistence. She’d thought he was caught up in the moment, probably hadn’t bedded many women lately what with the war in his own homeland. She thought he was just eager for companionship and the coincidence of their meeting along with his, well, if she was being honest with herself, both of their desire for a release, no matter if it was a one-time and done, was a lucky happenstance. Lucky their meeting ended with mutual pleasure, and not with bloodshed.

She’d put away all the inconvenient feelings she’d felt at his kind words, infectious smile, and soft touches. Had decided it would just be a memory, and perhaps a scandalous war story to tell at a pub, at some future date, further away from the actual conflict.

Bah, she thought, giving herself a shake. You’re soft when you’re drunk.

She snatched the mail, rifled through it, and found that there was some correspondence from friends she’d made in Stormsong Valley, and even Nazjatar. And two letters that were curiously postmarked, with no discernable return address. She concentrated her slightly wavy vision, and it seemed they bore stamps through—

“Booty Bay! The goblins!”

She covered her mouth in surprise at her vocal outburst, then kicked off her shoes on her way to the bedroom, carrying the letters with her. She flopped on the bed, squinted at the dates on the envelopes, and cracked the seal on the older of the two, only half paying attention to the image of a roaring tiger’s face stamped in the gold wax, and unfolded the pages inside. She then settled further into her bedding and began to read, a smile on her face.

#warcraft #warcraft fic #warcraft oc's #lyrinde #tsuuli #night elf #zandalari troll #demon hunter #paladin #my writing #just part of the story that lives in my head about these two idiots #i love them tho

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