#i must have looked so weird staring at a coffee packet at the store in annoyance

[ace-of-tranz]

I wrote a short story :3 cw// gore

You’ve been laying in bed for the past three hours, you can't get up. As you stare up at the white plaster ceiling, you think back on the past couple days, and the absolute hell that you were put through for god knows what reason. Why did things have to turn out this way, you don't deserve this. There's nothing you can do.

you had been feeling sick for a few days. waking up nauseous and weak, but never bad enough to really worry about. You still showed up to your work, still made small talk with your co-workers and still sucked up to your boss. It's a crappy IT job, and you spent most of your time turning things off and back on again or just plugging in unplugged computers. But you get paid enough to survive, so it's fine. 

After work, you made your way to the grocery store. but you couldn't decide on what to get, everything just looked so gross and slimy. Not knowing what to do, you just bought the things that you need, a few packets of ramen, some bread, and a pack of cheese. It's good enough to live off of. By that point you could barely remember going to work just a few hours before, n. You ate something, but you can't remember what.

    That's when it happened

You rushed for the bathroom, but didn’t make it. You started throwing up, an acrid feeling in your throat that would never go away. You opened your eyes, you didn't even realize they were closed. Your throw up was full of red flakes and it smelled terrible. You stood up, the bad smell was coming from the corpses all around you. All you could hear was the screams of the corpses, or were those your screams? You looked up, and what you saw was enough to wet your pants. It was death, no doubt about it. Giant wings made of thousands of tiny bones, a cloak of pure shadow, and a skull with an emotionless grin. But its eyes were what got you. They say that when you stare into a void, the void stares back into you, well that was what happened. 

You were drowning in its eyes, but then it wasn't its eyes, it was an ocean of blood. A metallic taste filled your mouth, you opened your eyes and the sheer pain forced them closed. You couldn't breathe, you had to breathe. You inhaled, the salty taste filled your mouth and suddenly you were on your floor, face landed directly in the puddle of your vomit. It smelled terrible.

“F***” you sigh. You went into your bathroom and got your cleaning supplies, and spent the next half hour cleaning the dried vomit from your gray carpet floor. Afterwards, you finished putting the cleaning supplies away and peeled off your crusted shirt. Your stomach and chest was covered in swollen sores, some of them oozing puss, others scabbed over and hurt to the touch. At the time, you had guessed it must be some kind of weird rugburn, it didn't matter too much to you at the time. After showering, you crawled into bed and quickly fell asleep

You woke up nauseous again, but you were already out of sick days for the year, so you got up and got ready for work. A cheese sandwich and some coffee for breakfast, and then you were on the road. After you had been driving for about fifteen minutes, 

the road turned into dirt, and then into sand

 and then you were in a desert. It was so hot, you couldn't breathe. The sun's burning rays turned even the sand into glass, melted your car down into just a slop. You were covered in molten metal, it was hell all over again. The sheer heat annihilated any ability you had to think. Then it was cold, so cold that you were shivering, it was alright though, because you had a blanket. You were in a bed. A hospital bed.

You opened your eyes and sat up, staring wide eyed and confused at the nurse, you ask “what happened?”

“You were in a car crash,” she responded, her voice calming. “You passed out at the wheel and swerved into a ditch.”

“Am I going to be ok?” you ask, close to panicking.

“Of course. You got out without even a scratch.” she said.

“Thank god, when can I leave?” you sighed in relief.

“As soon as you pay.”

After sorting out the money side of things, you called an uber and went home. You worried about your car and how you would get your work, but that was a problem for the future. You arrived home, thanked your driver, and left the car. You then had a small lunch of some cup ramen, and decided that 9:00 was as good a time as any to sleep. But first you had to use the bathroom. You screamed when you saw your reflection.

Scars. So many of them. Burn scars, huge wounds long healed, you were missing an eye, patches of your scalp were burnt off, and your skin was twisted and deformed. You lurched to the side and fell to your knees, face over your toilet. Then the throw up started, it was so painful. The acrid feeling in your throat was so bad you felt as if you would never be able to speak again. The toilet, full of half digested ramen noodles and those red specks from last time. The dry heaving that came after was enough to send tears streaming down your face and into the toilet below. It was as if you had chains wrapped around your torso and they were being tightened every minute. But it did eventually stop. You got up, washed your face and looked up. 

The scars were still there but now, there were new ones too. All down your neck, starting from your mouth and going down, your skin was red and bubbling. You went to touch the strange red patch, but the pain of it sent you to the ground. Writhing on the floor, you could feel the patch growing all across your body. Disfiguring you. Suddenly your fingers were claws of bone and muscle, your entire body changed into something different. Crawling on all fours, your claws leaving scratches on the floor, your ribs protruding from your chest, and your bloody drool dripping down onto the floor, you crawled into bed. 

Suddenly your body was back to the way it was before you changed. Covered in the agonizing red patches, you cried and screamed. But no one could help you. Now you’ve been laying in bed for the past three hours, you can't get up. As you stare up at the white plaster ceiling, you think back on the past couple days, and the absolute hell that you were put through for god knows what reason. Why did things have to turn out this way, you don't deserve this. There's nothing you can do. 

  The last thing you see is red

#short story #writing #writers on tumblr #book #queer #queer artist #transfem #transgender #cw: gore #horror #autism

[psycho-mocha]

Sometimes I make a face based on what my internal monologue was. And then I notice that I did the face OUT LOUD.

#i must have looked so weird staring at a coffee packet at the store in annoyance #ugh why #does this #happen to me #this one sales lady(?) literally stood by me and asked if i wanted another and I DIDN'T KNOW WHY BUT I GUESS IT'S BECAUSE OF THE FACE?? #in all honesty i was just thinking about how i have an exam the next day so like #uwu #scheduled post #og #mine #chaos brewing #brewing chaos #i have so many tags in all my posts it's annoying #anywhoozle #fuck me ig #textpost #textposts #brain #face #whtat

[mashtonasfuck]

there’s a ghost in the back of this room

Pairing: Ashton Irwin x Calum Hood (and also a bonus side of muke that happened accidentally)

Prompt:

Person B is a ghost in Person A’s house and they would be really freaked out but Person B always leaves really good advice using the kitchen magnets, so Person A is not really bothered

Warnings: mention of a missing person who reader knows is dead/a ghost

Word Count: 3K

A note from Lucy: This is part of the halloween writers collab organised by @maluminspace​ and @h0tsos. The masterlist can be found here. See the end of the post for more notes. Hey look, I managed to write cashton fic without it turning into smut! Thanks to @loveroflrh and @kindahoping4forever for reading this over for me 💙

If you’d like to be added to my tag list then please fill in this form

You can find my masterlist here

This work must not be reposted anywhere - I do not give my permission for it to appear anywhere other than on my blog, or on my ao3 page.

——————————————————————————

“Ashton, why does your fridge say ‘stop being an idiot’?” Ashton glanced over to where Luke was staring at the fridge door in mild amusement. 

“Oh, that’s just Calum - ignore him. I usually do” Ashton rolled his eyes as a picture fell off the wall as he finished speaking, the thud causing Luke to spin around, eyes wide.

“What was that?” 

“I just brushed past the picture and knocked it off, that’s all.”

Luke narrowed his eyes at Ashton, the older man chuckling as he hung the picture back up. 

“Come on, let’s watch this damn movie you don’t shut up about.”

–

Why did you tell Luke to ignore me

The question was on Ashton’s fridge the next morning, the letters a mishmash of colours and cases. Ashton pinched the bridge of his nose as he read it - only he would get a self conscious ghost living in his house. 

“Calum, are you here?”

A cupboard door opened and a mug floated down onto the counter a few feet away from him - Ashton took that as a yes and shoved a pod into his coffee machine before grabbing the mug and pushing the button. 

“I was only messing with you, Cal. Besides, you’re my ghost, it has nothing to do with Luke.”

Ashton watched as the letters on the fridge rearranged themselves, sipping on his coffee and humming at the bitterness dancing on his tongue. 

Do you not want your friends to know about me

Ashton groaned internally, how could he explain this to his house ghost without offending him? 

“I think they’d be pretty freaked out if they knew I lived with a ghost. You saw Luke’s reaction to you knocking that picture off the wall. Besides, I like keeping you a secret, you’re mine.”

It’s pretty hard for me to be yours when you’ve never even seen me

Ashton had in fact seen Calum. Or at least a photo of Calum. 

– 

He hadn’t been in the house more than a month when he started to realise that things kept happening. A photo moved slightly, the couch not being quite as tidy as he’d left it. The day Ashton had realised he actually had a ghost, he’d come home to find a new photo of him and Luke floating in midair. 

“Um, hello?”

The photograph was dropped hastily, as though Ashton had scared the ghost he evidently had living in his house. After that, Ashton started talking to the ghost, even though he never got a reply aside from the odd knock on a table or a wall. It was while he was at a store grabbing something for dinner that he saw the fridge magnets. He grabbed all of the packets they had and drove home with a grin on his face.

“So, I bought you these today,” Ashton held out the magnets towards where he hoped his ghost was, “I thought maybe you could try talking back to me?”

Ashton felt a small whoosh of air as the ghost moved around the kitchen and he tore open the first packet, dumping the contents into a drawer he never used. Almost immediately the letters started floating from the drawer towards his fridge and Ashton watched as the ghost arranged the letters into a sentence.

Hello Ashton

“Hello, ghost. Oh - what’s your name? It feels weird calling you ‘ghost’.”

The letters arranged themselves once again.

My name is Calum

“Nice to finally know your name, Calum. How was your day?”

I’m a ghost Ashton

The brunette snorted as he watched the letters form another sentence.

Boring thank u for asking

Ashton laughed before spending the next few hours conversing with his ghost - with Calum - via fridge magnets. Calum had told him his full name after Ashton insisted upon knowing it.

“If you ever piss me off, I need to know what to call you.”

Calum Hood

It lingered there for a few seconds before ‘Hood’ was moved over.

Calum Thomas Hood

Ashton turned it over in his mind. Why did that name sound so familiar to him? He thought nothing more of it until he was at work a few days later.

STILL NO SIGN OF MISSING MAN 

Police are still searching for Calum Thomas Hood, 24, who disappeared from his home 6 months ago. They’re urging anyone who may know anything about his disappearance to come forward. 

Attached to the article had been a photo of the missing man, and Ashton knew it was his Calum. (He’d later cut the photograph out of the newspaper and taped it to the bottom of his desk drawer where no one would find it.) When he’d got home from work that day, Ashton had asked Calum how he’d died. 

Not sure don’t remember

Ashton had debated telling the police that he knew exactly where Calum Thomas Hood - or at least his soul - was. He’d told Calum this one evening and a single word had appeared on his fridge.

Crazy

– 

Calum was bored. 

Sure, being a ghost meant that he could walk through walls and move things with his mind, but being bound to one place had its drawbacks. There were only so many times you could move things around waiting to see how long it took Ashton to find them before you’d moved everything. 

(He’d even tried to swap all the furniture in Ashton’s bedroom with all the furniture in his living room, but Ashton had come home earlier than Calum had anticipated and made him put it all back to normal without any help. Moving things with your mind was tiring. 

“You’re a ghost, Cal, how can you get tired?”

Calum had used all of the ‘i’s and the ‘l’s to make a middle finger on Ashton’s fridge door.)

Calum thought that Ashton could sense how restless he was. Ashton seemed to find new reasons to work from home during the day so Calum wasn’t by himself. Not that they could really interact unless Ashton was in the kitchen. They’d tried using a pen and some paper once, but Calum’s ghostly abilities didn’t seem to extend to pens. He couldn’t seem to get the pressure right to actually leave ink on the paper. Ashton had laughed at him before being met with a cushion to the face. 

Calum missed being alive. He missed being able to go outside. He missed coffee. He missed being able to pet dogs.

Most of all, he was frustrated that he couldn’t remember how he’d even become a ghost. At night while Ashton was asleep, Calum tried to remember what had happened. (There wasn’t much else to do while your best friend was sleeping.) He’d get so far into the memory and then something would tug him back into the present moment. It was disconcerting. Calum could sense that he was close to finding out the truth, but something was stopping him. He’d tried to explain it to Ashton but ran out of letters and gave up. He’d debated asking the other man to buy more, but had resigned himself to the fact that it just wasn’t worth it. Ashton wasn’t going to be able to help him figure out what had happened - it was something he needed to figure out for himself.

– 

“Hey Cal, how do you feel about me throwing a Halloween party this year?”

Although Ashton couldn’t see him, he knew that Calum had raised an eyebrow at his question. 

It’s your house Ashton

“Well excuse me for wanting to make sure my resident ghost wasn’t inconvenienced.” Ashton smirked at his fridge as Calum spelt out a new message.

Appreciate it

Sure, have a party

Ashton cheered aloud and began reeling off his ideas to Calum, barely giving the ghost time to form a sentence. Calum shook his head fondly at the man standing opposite him - if Calum had been alive and met Ashton, he was sure that they’d have been best friends. When Ashton had finished speaking, Calum had one thing to say.

You already have a haunted house Ash

– 

The party had taken Ashton weeks of planning and he’d dragged Luke into the prep early on in the process. 

Calum liked having Luke around - he was fun to mess with. He’d taken to moving Luke’s glass from wherever he’d put it down and putting it on the other side of the room. Watching Luke’s bewilderment was a new favourite activity of Calum’s - Ashton had to keep taking the fall for his antics. 

As Halloween rolled around, Ashton’s house really did look haunted. Every room was shrouded in black and there were cobwebs all over the place. (Calum’s favourite thing was the skeleton hiding behind the downstairs closet door that jumped out whenever you walked past it.) According to Ashton, the outside looked just as scary as the inside, but Calum had to take his word for it. 

As people started arriving, Calum retreated into Ashton’s room. He didn’t usually go anywhere near the other man’s room, but Ashton had told him that it was okay if he needed to get away from all the people. Calum was worried about being walked through. Ashton had done it a few times by accident, and Calum had felt sick every time it had happened. That was something they were both eager to avoid, especially once Calum had explained to Ashton how it felt. 

A knock on Ashton’s bedroom door piqued Calum’s interest and Luke’s head appeared around the door frame.

“Ash, are you - oh. You’re not here.” Luke started to close the door but stopped suddenly, pushing it back open and slipping inside before closing it behind him. He glanced around a few times, gaze running over where Calum was sitting on the end of the bed. 

“This is going to sound crazy, but is there someone else in here?”

Calum cocked his head at Luke’s words; he knew that Ashton wasn’t particularly forthcoming with Luke about his existence. He shifted off the end of the bed, moving across the room to stand about a foot away from Luke. The blonde let out a breath as he felt the temperature in the room drop slightly.

“Calum, right?” Luke’s voice was quiet as he spoke, Calum smiling at the fact that Luke remembered his name. He picked up a pillow from Ashton’s bed in response, tossing it gently towards Luke. The other man caught it easily, eyes growing wide at the pillow that was suddenly in his arms.

“Holy shit, you are actually real.” 

Calum let out a laugh at Luke’s words, amazement etched into the blonde’s face. 

“I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere.”

The blonde left the room, returning a few minutes later with an armful of stuff. He dropped it all on Ashton’s bed before turning around and facing the room. 

“So, um, I bought a small magnetic whiteboard and some of the letters from Ashton’s kitchen drawer and I was wondering if we could talk about something?”

Luke watched in shock as the letters began arranging themselves on the whiteboard.

Hi Luke

What’s up

Luke sucked in a breath before he started talking.

– 

Calum knew this was crazy. 

Luke was crazy.

Just because it was Halloween, it didn’t mean that Ashton would suddenly be able to see him. Calum had always thought the whole ‘veil being thinner on Halloween’ thing was bullshit. Luke was insistent that it wasn’t, telling him that if anyone would be able to see him it would be Ashton.

“He’s in love with you, I think.” 

The way Luke had said it had been so casual, but it sent Calum’s mind reeling. Ashton couldn’t possibly love him. He barely even knew him. Luke had dismissed Calum’s concerns before he’d even completed a sentence on the board. The more Calum thought about it, the more he was sure that he was the one in love with Ashton. He paused rearranging the letters for a moment as he stared at Luke. 

Think I love him too

Luke had lit up with a smile at Calum’s words before slipping out of the room to find Ashton. 

Calum was sure if he had any contents in his stomach, that they would be on their way out by now. He was so nervous. Luke was so sure that this would work, that Calum found himself believing the blonde man wholeheartedly. It felt like an eternity before Luke finally returned dragging Ashton behind him, along with another man that Calum had never seen before. 

“Calum, this is Michael. He’s my boyfriend and he’s also slightly psychic.”

Michael blushed a deep red at Luke’s words, scanning the room before he locked eyes with Calum. 

“Hello, Calum.” 

Calum waved gingerly at the green eyed man staring at him, Michael breaking out into a smile. He glanced at Luke and nodded slightly, the blonde smirking at Ashton. Ashton was standing behind Luke looking bewildered as he watched the exchange between his friends. 

“Can someone please explain to me what’s going on? Luke, how did you find out about Calum?” 

Luke glanced over his shoulder at the brunette man and rolled his eyes. 

“Please, I don’t know why you thought no one would find the picture you’d taped to your desk drawer. Coupled with the fact that you kept blaming ‘Calum’ for things. You weren’t exactly subtle, Ash. I put two and two together and did a google search.”

Ashton’s jaw dropped open as Luke spoke, Calum snickering at his reaction. Michael smiled widely at Calum and turned to face Ashton. 

“You already know what Calum looks like, right?”

Ashton nodded slowly, fearful of where this was going.

“As we all know, the veil is thinner on Halloween, therefore allowing spirits to pass between the realms. I’ve never tried to bring an actual ghost through the veil, but there’s a first time for everything, right?” Michael rolled his shoulders as he spoke, turning back to face Calum. “Provided this goes right, we should all be able to see you. I mean, I already can. But Luke and Ashton too. Worst case scenario is that only I can see you, and this doesn’t work. You only live once though, right?” 

Calum rolled his eyes at Michael’s words, bracing himself for whatever the man was about to do. 

“Oh, wait.” Michael glanced at Ashton before looking back towards Calum, “Say something to me, Calum. I need to know if I can hear you already or not.”

Calum raised an eyebrow at Michael.

“You’re such a know-it-all, Michael.” 

Michael broke out into laughter, Luke and Ashton looking at him in confusion.

“This is gonna be fun, nice to meet you Calum.” Michael smirked at him before cracking his knuckles, “You’re gonna fit right in with us all, I’m sure of that.”

“Michael, what exactly are you going to do?” Ashton’s voice was nervous, he didn’t like the fact that Michael could see Calum when he couldn’t.

“We, my dear friends, are going to summon Calum firmly into the realm of the living.”

– 

Calum felt the air around him grow fuzzy as he watched the three figures sat on the floor in front of him. 

“Now Ashton, I need you to imagine Calum standing right in front of you. Really imagine it. See him in your mind’s eye. You got it? Good.” Michael looked away from Ashton and back towards Calum. “Cal, whenever you’re ready, I need you to come and stand in front of Ashton. I’m 80% sure that this is going to work. It depends how well Ashton is visualising.”

The brunette huffed in Michael’s direction and Calum smirked. 

“Is he always like this when I’m not around?”

Michael grinned at Calum before nodding and gesturing to the spot on the floor in front of Ashton. 

“Whenever you’re ready, Calum.”

– 

Holy shit

“Cal?” Ashton’s voice was barely a whisper as he stared at the man suddenly standing before him.

“Hi, Ash.” Calum blushed under the other man’s gaze, casting a look towards Luke and Michael who were both sat on the floor smirking.

Ashton blinked a few times before slowly standing up and reaching towards Calum. The other man grabbed his arm as he stood, helping to pull him off the floor. 

“How - how are you corporeal right now?” Ashton looked over at Michael who simply shrugged in return.

“You must be really good at visualising. It was only supposed to make Calum visible and hearable. Whether or not he was corporeal was out of my control.” Michael pulled Luke to his feet as he stood up, taking the blonde’s hand, “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to go and make out with my boyfriend in Ashton’s spare room. Nice to meet you, Cal. I daresay we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other in the near future.” 

Michael dragged Luke from the room, the blonde waving absentmindedly at Ashton and Calum as they retreated, closing the door behind them. 

“It’s really you.” Ashton ran his hand up Calum’s arm. The other man was wearing the same clothes as in the photo Ashton had seen, Calum’s leather jacket feeling smooth against his fingers. 

“It’s really me, Ash.” Calum brought a hand up rest against the back of Ashton’ neck. “It’s so weird to be able to talk to you and for you to actually be able to hear me.”

Ashton laughed quietly at Calum’s words, leaning forwards to rest their foreheads together. 

“I can’t believe you’re really standing here and I can see you. Remind me to get Michael a case of beer or something.” 

“Noted.” Calum grabbed both of Ashton’s hands, lacing their fingers together. “I’ve thought about being able to touch you for so long.”

Ashton hummed quietly at the other man’s words, the realisation finally setting in.

Calum was here. He could see Calum. He could hear him. He could feel him. 

“Ash, I need to tell you something.” Calum nudged Ashton’s head up so they were eye to eye. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.” 

Ashton smiled softly at the admission.

“Pretty sure I’m in love with you too, Cal. I mean, it’s kinda complicated because you’re a ghost and all, but I really do love you.”

Calum searched Ashton’s face for any sign of hesitancy before closing the distance between them. 

——————————————————————————

Notes: I deliberately left this open ended so I can come back to it in the future. I hope you like it, I’m really unsure about it 🥺 please let me know what you think here

Taglist: @pxrxmoore, @irwinkitten, @kindahoping4forever, @sadistmichael, @loveroflrh, @adoringlrh, @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles, @maluminspace, @malumsmermaid, @lashtonswildflower, @irwindoll, @castaway-cashton, @everyscarisahealingplace, @converse-luke, @zhangyixingxing1, @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25

#cashtonasfuck #cashtonasfuck writes #superbloomirwin #superbloomirwin writes #ashton irwin fic #calum hood fic #cashton fic #5sos writing collab #5sos fic #5 seconds of summer fic #cashton fanfic #cashton fluff

[bnha-mcu-requests]

Hey, I hope you’re doing well during these weird times. THis is my first time submitting a request so bare with me. Can I request Todoroki, Midoriya, and Shinsou with a s/o or friend who deals with depression and with difficult family members so they come off as cold/blunt but are actually pretty empathetic. They just have a hard time expressing it. Thank you for even reading this :) I wish you well with your blog. Please stay safe and take care of your mental health <3

First off, I would like to apologise for this taking so long to get out! I’ve been swamped with college stuff and this particular story just wouldn’t turn out the way I wanted it to. However, after weeks of rewriting, I am finally happy with the outcome. Thank you for your patience <3

Rin was a simple guy in his own opinion. All he wanted was a peaceful evening in with his ex-foster brother, binge watching netflix and stuffing his face with pizza until he forgot what being hungry felt like.

Unfortunately for him, the universe had decided this was too much to ask and so, here he was, in a packed mall, hunched awkwardly by the fountain, waiting for Shinsou and his ‘friend’ to turn up. He sighed, rolling his shoulders, wincing slightly at the popping noise they made and flinching at the sudden scream of a small child to his left.

Glancing up, he made eye contact with the mother, who smiled apologetically with a small shrug, as though saying ‘what can you do?’ Rin looked away quickly, shifting uncomfortably, the soft fabric of his hoodie suddenly feeling too tight despite being a few sizes too big.

Coming here was a bad idea, he wasn’t ready to meet one of Shinsou’s friends. Why did he agree to this? He could have said no, Shinsou would have understood. Right? His heart began to race faster, drowning out the bustling sounds of life an replacing them with a loud, fearful pounding. Shinsou would have said it was okay, but he would be so disappointed, and then he’d see that Rin isn’t worth the hassle. He’d leave, oh god he’d leave. Then he’d be on his own all over again, alone and hurt and lost and and and-

A sharp voice broke through the haze of self loathing Rin had wormed his way into, his head shot up, a slurred ‘wha-?’ leaving torn lips before a familiar and comforting blankness settled over him, nothing but the soft fuzziness and the nice voice existing at this point in time.

“Breathe Rin, nice and easy. In for 5, hold for 7, out for 8, just like we practised.”  Rin felt his muscles begin to relax, shoulders uncurling, hands unclenching and posture straightening, feeling as though all the tension in his body was being leached out.

A hand resting softly on his shoulder was enough to snap him out of the hypnotic daze and he found himself staring into familiar amethyst eyes, face calm and hair as untamed as ever. Despite this, Rin could see the worried tug on his friend’s lips and couldn’t stop the wave of guilt that washed over him. Shinsou must have seen something in his expression as his grip tightened marginally before allowing a lazy smile to grace his features.

“Hey, Rin, I’m happy to see you”

It may seem stupid but hearing the confirmation that Shinsou wasn’t disappointed in him helped to chase away the last dregs of the panic attack, leaving Rin feeling both a million times lighter and so heavy at the same time.

Lifting his head higher, he spied another person stood behind Shinsou, back turned politely to give them privacy but close enough that it was obvious he was the other person Shinsou had brought with him for Rin to meet.

Following his gaze, Shinsou gave a small fond smile, and Rin felt his eyes widen at the soft, barely there flush that dusted Shinsou’s cheeks as he looked on at the shorter male.

“That’s Midoriya Izuku, a friend of mine from UA. You’ll like him I promise,” Rin didn’t doubt that, he’d seen the kid on TV and had grown fond of his blazing enthusiasm and dedication to heroics. He did however, doubt that Midoriya would like him. After all, someone with such a powerful quirk like Midoriya’s wouldn’t want to be associating with someone like him.

He was broken out of his depressive musings by a scarred had being thrust out. He looked up, surprised, and was almost blinded by the grin sent his way by the green haired, freckled boy.

“M-Midoriya Izuku! It’s n-nice to meet you Rin! Sh-shinsou has told me a l-lot about you!”

‘A stutter huh’ Rin thought as he took the hand offered and shook it, sending back a weak smile that felt more like a grimace, ‘That was certainly unexpected considering how intense the boy was on TV’.

After the less then stellar first encounter, Rin was not eager to spend the rest of the day with this Midoriya Izuku. Of course, he seemed like a nice guy, they all do and then they turn around and stab you in the back when you’re settled in and comfortable. It’s a truth that Rn had learned the hard way, and something he had thought Shinsou new. Clearly he was so infatuated he had forgotten the risks. That’s okay though, Rin would watch his back and make sure that he wouldn’t be hurt by Midoriya, it was for his own good.

He walked to the left of Shinsou, with Midoriya on the right, keeping slightly behind the pair so he could observe the interactions and keep an eye on the green haired anomaly, without being too obvious about it. Or so he thought. Midoriya turned his head slightly and caught his eye as Rin was staring at him. Midoriya smiled uncertainly in response to the small frown Rin gave as he tried to work out what the boy’s game was.

Their day continued much like this, with Midoriya making efforts to interact with Rin and Rin shutting him down with short answers and grunts. Shinsou watched the whole thing with a sad look in his eyes that made Rin feel awful but if he wasn’t going to look out for himself then someone else had to do it for him.

Eventually, they stopped at a cafe, one that Rin knew Shinsou was a fan of and sat down at a table close to the window. They quickly put in their orders, Shinsou opting for a black coffee and a doughnut, Midoriya having an orange juice and a cookie and Rin just having a packet of crisps and a hot chocolate.

When the drinks finally arrived, Rin spent the next few minutes staring at Midoriya over the rim of his mug, watching for any aggression, any sign that Midoriya did not mean well. Clearly trying his best to not appear uncomfortable, Midoriya continued his strained conversation about the latest training session he and Shinsou had with ‘Aizawa-sensei’ whoever that was.

Rin took a sip of the hot chocolate, valiantly trying to ignore the burning sensation on his tongue as the too hot sugary goodness filled his mouth. He clearly didn’t do a good enough job as Midoriya turned to look at him, concern written plain as day on his face while Shinsou sniggered, handing Rin a napkin to wipe down his mouth where he had sputtered in surprise.

“Are you okay Rin?” Midoriya asked, offering his drink to the boy, “Do you want to cool your mouth down”.

What happened next, Rin could not explain, maybe he was embarrassed, maybe he was pissed off that Midoriya had intruded on his and Shinsou’s day or maybe it was a mixture of the both, but he snapped, hitting the glass out of Midoriya’s hand and standing up suddenly.

Face twisted into a snarl, “Don’t you dare look down on me!” the store was silent and all eyes were turned towards the table the three were sat at. Midoriya glanced around the shop nervously, as though upset by the attention, this only served to annoy Rin further.

“What? Can’t handle the attention? Would have thought someone with such a powerful quirk was used to it. Stop pretending, I know what people like you are really like. I don’t know how you have fooled Shinsou but you won’t fool me!”

“Rin-” Shinsou began, looking up at his friend, shocked by the outburst.

“No Shinsou! Don’t you see? He’s just trying to get your trust! He’ll hurt you and then he’ll leave you! They always do! How can you be so stupid?”

He was cut off by the abrupt standing up of Midoriya, the table shook and a heavy silence filled the store, smothering the previous awkward atmosphere and replacing it with something more oppressive, more cloying and absolutely ridden with mourning.

“I’ll see you later Shinsou.” the boy grabbed his bag and made to leave the store, stopping and turning back to the table to send Rin a sad smile, “Nice to meet you Rin”

Rin sat back down, suddenly feeling deflated and the confused glare he was getting from Shinsou really wasn’t helping his situation.

“What the fuck was that Rin?” Shinsou growled out. He looked hurt, and confused and angry and oh no, he was gonna leave and it was all Rin’s fault and he’s fucked it up again. Useless, useless, powerless, weak can’t even protect the one precious person left in his life.

His breaths came out in harsh pants, nails digging into the flesh of his ribs, too loud, everything was too loud. He could hear Shinsou calling for him as he stood up and raced out of the door, running. Running where? Who knows, all he knows is that he has to get away. Away. Before they hurt him, before they hit him, before he’s thrown around because he can’t take care of  himself because he’s-

Oomf

He’d run into something. Something hard. Like a wall, but not a wall because it was moving, oh god. It’s another person. They’re reaching down towards him, they’re gonna hurt him, gonna hit him. Away, away-

“GET AWAY! DON’T TOUCH ME!” he threw his arms wide, almost hitting the wall-person he had run into. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn't see,  his vision a swirl of red and white, ears filled with concerned screeches and moans and noise, oh god the noise.

Green. He sees green. It pushes the red and white away gently and covers his ears with silence before its filled with soft tones of the piano. What?

He opens his eyes again. They are in an ally, away from the loud noises and the bright colours. He’s leaning on something breathing, something warm, something green. Midoriya. He tenses.

Midoriya leant back and allowed Rin to pull himself away, concerned and painfully understanding eyes trained on Rin’s shivering form.

“You’re quirkless, aren’t you?” the question carried no malice, or hate and yet, it was so so heavy, heavy with understanding and empathy.

Rin nodded and sniffed, curling in on himself, ready to protect himself from the scorn he knew would follow, as it always had.

“Did you know I was a late bloomer?” Rin’s head shot up, he hadn’t known that. Even so, late bloomers developed their quirk at 7 at the latest- “I was 15” the world came to a screeching halt.

“15?” Rin whispered, looking, really looking at the boy in front of him.

“Yeah. I was diagnosed as quirkless when I was four but I made my mind up that I was going to be a hero anyway, I’d be the first quirkless hero if that’s what it took. Others didn’t take too kindly to that. They laughed at me, picked on me and would even practise their quirks on me, the poor, little, weak, quirkless Deku, who couldn't fight back. I know Rin, I know,”

Guilt like a tsunami crashed over him, replacing burning anger with resignation and regret.

“But…but you got your quirk?” he rasped out, only now realising how dry his throat had gotten, wordlessly, Midoriya offered him a water bottle he seemed to have materialised out of nowhere.

“About 9 months before the UA entrance exams, I began to train really hard to get stronger so I would at least stand a chance of passing. On the day of the exam, someone really needed help and out of nowhere, my quirk came in. The Doctors believe that I had a dormant quirk that my body couldn’t handle so it only manifested when I wasn’t in any life threatening danger if I used it.”

“What do you mean, ‘couldn't handle it’?” Rin asked, incredulous, he’d never heard of anything like that before.

“When I use my quirk for too long, or if I don’t carefully regulate the power output, my quirk shatters my bones”

The ally was silent. Neither of them knowing what to say to follow that statement up. Rin shifted uncomfortably and was about to apologise when-

“So yeah. I get it. I don’t want to be enemies Rin, but if you don’t want to be friends then there is nothing I can do about it. But you listen to me-” Rin gulped at the intensity in Midoriya’s gaze,”I won’t ever hurt Shinsou, not if I can help it. He is a dear friend of mine and I have sworn to protect him, so please” the burning passion seemed to dwindle down until it mimicked the warmth of a hearth, “can we try to be friends?”.

Unable to say anything, Rin nodded, ignoring the tears that threatened to spill, and hoisted himself up, offering a hand to Midoriya to help him up. The hand was taken gratefully.

“Now, let’s find Todoroki - he’s the one you ran into - I think he’ll have found Shinsou by now. I think there is a lot the three of us need to discuss. Starting with who it was that has made you feel like you need to protect Shinsou and yourself from those of us with quirks.”

At the righteous fury in Midoriya’s voice, Rin couldn’t help but give a watery smile, as he followed him back into the light of the main street, fully believing this was the start of a great friendship.

Oh this one was a doozy to write but I enjoyed myself. I’m sorry I couldn’t work Todoroki into the story more but I feel like this worked out well and there is the potential to introduce him as a more prominent character later on, should the inspiration strike!

Thanks so much for sending in a request and I hope I’ve done it justice! 

#midoriya izuku #bnha midoriya #bnha shinsou #bnha oc #requests #bnha requests

[eveningmercury]

QUEEN COOKING!!!

AN: this turned outway longer than I was expecting, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

Summary: (Moderncollege AU) Brian and Roger finally decided to open their home to twomore housemates, first an art student with an ambition to try allkinds of new foods, and then an electrical engineer with a knack forcheese on toast.

Ships: no ships forthis story :)

Words: 1632

“Good morning,Brian,” John greeted pleasantly, looking at the astrophysicsstudent over the rim of his coffee mug. “I made breakfast, ifyou’re hungry. Plates are in the box on the counter, forks and knivesare by the fridge.”

Brian nodded in response,setting the textbook he’d been carrying on the table before headingover to the stove to see what the bassist had cooked up. The fryingpan held a handful of sausages, a few strips of bacon, and a coupleof eggs, over-easy.

Nothing that reallyappealed to him, if he was honest. But he didn’t want to hurt his newhousemates feelings, so he scooped an eggs onto his plate, one of thesomewhat tacky white ones with the green trim that Freddie had movedin with him and Roger.

As he stared into thebarren abyss that was their fridge, Brian made a mental note to buysome fruit the next time he went to the store.

“Is that all you’regoing to have? Don’t worry about the others, I can make more ifthere’s not enough.” John looked despairingly at Brian’spractically empty plate, his gaze carefully avoiding Brian’s eyes.

“Oh, no, John, it’sfine,” he hesitated, though he wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t ashamed,not at all, yet he was still hesitant.

“It’s just, well,”John looked at him encouragingly. “I’m a vegetarian,” Hefinished, looking up from his plate to gauge the younger man’sreaction.

John’s mouth formed a soft‘oh’ as he glanced at the breakfast he’d made.

“I’m sorry, Brian, I hadno idea,” He chuckled nervously. “I’ll keep that in mind for nexttime.”

John smiled at him, andBrian couldn’t help but smile back.

“Thanks, John.”

He had a feeling they weregoing to get along swell.

~

Brian woke one night tothe sound of a package being torn open.

He peeled his eyes open tofind himself seated a the kitchen table, his face pasted to aresearch paper (he was too out of it to remember what on earth thepaper was about- something to do with Zodiacal light). He must havefallen asleep writing. The ache in his neck and back affirmed hissuspicions.

The crinkling sound of thepackage had stopped and was soon replaced by the sound of someoneopening and closing the kitchen cupboards in search of some elusiveobject.

He finally lifted his headfrom the table and found himself looking at a manic Freddie. Hisblack hair was pulled out of his eyes with and elastic band, and thatworried Brian more than anything so far. Freddie never tied his hairup, and he would certainly never use some random elastic that wouldknot and rip his hair as soon as he tried to take it out.

The unusual choice of hairtie quickly slipped from Brian’s thoughts as Freddie apparently foundwhat he was looking for: a Ziploc bag. The design student let out aquiet ‘Aha!’ and stood up to grab whatever package he had beenopening earlier, not even bothering to close the cupboard.

Freddie dumped thecontents of the package into his bag, humming softly. The mysteriousitem was ramen, Brian realized, and he quirked his head. What thehell was Freddie doing with dry ramen and a Ziploc bag?

He settled on it beingsome weird art thing.

His hypothesis was soonproven wrong, however, as Freddie dumped the entirety of theseasoning packet that came with the ramen into his bag, crunched itall up, scooped up a handful of the mixture, and shoved it into hismouth, chewing obnoxiously.

“What the hell areyou eating, Fred?” Brian asked, unable to keep quiet any longer.

Freddie jumped, holdingthe bag to his chest as if it would protect him from whatevernocturnal creature he thought stalked the dimly lit kitchen. Hisstance shifted from one of pure terror to utter relief, albeit angry,as he laid eyes on Brian at the table.

“Jesus Christ,Brian, don’t scare me like that! What are you doing up so late?” hecursed, picking up a pencil that had fallen from where it had beentucked behind his ear.

“What are youeating?” Brian repeated, ignoring the question, his eyes stilltrained on the concoction in Freddie’s hands.

“Pasta,” thedesign student said simply, holding up the bag and shaking it like itwas some cat toy and Brian was the cat.

Too tired to argue, Brianmerely stared at his housemate in utter horror, hoping that this wasall a fever dream and Freddie wasn’t actually going to voluntarilyput that stuff in his body.

“Well, as fun asthis has been, I have work I need to finish, so, goodnight, darling.”Freddie offered him a tight-lipped smile before grabbing anotherfistful of the dry ramen and shoveling into his mouth.

Brian could only watch asFreddie walked away, his crunching disappearing down the hall.

~

Freddie sat on the edge ofthe kitchen counter, smearing an unsavory amount of honey on a pieceof toast. John glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, cringingslightly at the amount of sweetness the artist was tainting the poorbread with.

“How much honeyare you going to put on that thing, Fred?” He asked, taking a bitof his own slice of toast.

Freddie shrugged, sendinghim a small glare. “As much as I want, dear.”

The bassist rolled hiseyes, deciding to drop the subject.

“At least it’s notthat monstrosity,” Freddie continued, gesturing to John’s food witha look of disdain on his face.

“What’s so badabout cheese on toast?” John countered, trying not to look tooinsulted.

“There’s nothingwrong with cheese toast, Freddie.” Brian walked into the kitchen,an empty glass of water in one hand and a towel he was using to dryhis curls in the other.

Brian’s attempt atdiffusing the situation proved futile as Roger strolled up next tohim, stretching lazily.

“It’s just a bitweird, since it’s literally all you eat, Deak,” he stated, talkingthrough a yawn.

“It’s good!”John insisted, taking another bite to emphasize his point.

“It’s cheese onbread!” Freddie exclaimed.

“What, have younever had a grilled cheese?” Brian asked him, looking up from themail he was sorting at the table. “It’s essentially the same thing,just minus one piece of bread.”

“What’s a grilledcheese?” Freddie furrowed his brow, his lips curling slightly indisgust.

“Wait, Freddie,you’ve never had a grilled cheese?” Roger stared at himincredulously.

“I mean, he justlearned what ramen was last week,” Brian mused, grimacing as hethought about the singer’s latest midnight snack.

“God, Fred, whatkind of childhood did you have?” Roger stared at the man inquestion, who in turn sent him a glare icy enough to send a chilldown the drummer’s spine.

Brian elbowed him in theside, sending the blond another glare, urging him to mutter a quiet,“Sorry.”

John merely took anotherbite of his toast, before deciding to offer part of the slice toFreddie.

The dark-haired man lookedat the offering, then up at John, then back to John’s outstretchedhand, before hesitantly grabbing the toast.

He took a small bite,chewing slowly, his dark eyes narrowed in contemplation.

The other three watchedhim expectantly, John almost falling off the counter as he leanedcloser to see Freddie’s reaction.

Freddie said nothing as hegave John his breakfast back.

“So? What do youthink?” Roger asked, drumming his fingers in anticipation.

“It’s…”Freddie started. Brian gestured for him to continue.

“Plain,” Hefinished, shrugging slightly.

“Perfect for plainol’ John Deacon, then,” John said, happily shoving the rest of thetoast into his mouth.

~

Roger Taylor was stressed.

Probably because thekitchen was on fire.

He swore at the smokealarm as its incessant beeping alerted the rest of the house to hislittle incident, which definitely did not include him causing a smallfire, then accidentally creating a much bigger fire in an attempt toput it out with the nearest thing to him: a roll of paper towels.

Now, he wasn’t an idiot.He knew that putting paper towels on a fire was definitely not a goodway to extinguish said thing, but he panicked and just grabbed whatwas closest to him.

He also didn’t get a winkof sleep last night.

“Rog, what the hell didyou do?” The voice of one Brian May drew the blond from his shockedstupor.

“I’m making breakfast.”

“Clearly, you are not.”John’s monotone voice was laced with a slight edge of panic.

Brian was the first tomove, pulling Roger away from the fire by the shoulders, shoving himat John. He quickly maneuvered himself around the growing flames, rippingopen one of the cupboards.

He grabbed a bag of somesort of white powder (silently blessing John Deacon for buying awhole bunch of baking ingredients; apparently it was a side hobby ofhis, and he made a killer lemon tart), quickly dumping it’s contentsonto the stove.

The fire was soonextinguished, and Roger pried himself slowly from John’s arms, whichhad been practically strangling him, and he heaved a breath, coughingas he inhaled a large amount of smoke.

“My, sleep in for tenminutes and look at all the fun I missed.”

The three men slowlyturned to see Freddie, in all of his bedhead glory, standing in thedoorway with a cocky grin.

“I’ll order takeout.”

#this is so long skksk #freddie mercury #roger taylor #Brian May #John Deacon #joe mazzello #rami malek #ben hardy #gwilym lee #Queen #queen band #bohemian rhapsody #BoRhap #borhap boys

[lady-wallace]

A Story for April Fool’s!

Since it’s April Fool’s Day I thought I would post this Prank story that I wrote a while ago which was part of my A Thing or Two About Being Human series. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~

Cas Wages War

Set Season 9

Dean grunted in frustration as he shuffled things around in his desk drawer. How the hell had all this stuff gotten in there anyway? It wasn’t like he used half of it.

           After unearthing multiple things he’d completely forgotten about, including a half eaten candy bar, he still hadn’t found the one thing he’d been looking for to begin with. How hard was it to find a hole-punch? And a better question: why was he looking for one first thing in the morning?

           He decided it just wasn’t that important to him anymore—Sam would just have to punch his own holes—and began to shove the pile of junk back into the drawer when something else he didn’t know was in there caught his eye.

           Dean picked up the small packet. Itching powder. He grinned; it had been a long time since he’d used thaton anyone. He must have bought it in anticipation for surprising Sam at some point, but had obviously forgotten about it. Well, no time like the present. They hadn’t had a case for over two weeks now and they were all going stir-crazy. Hence why he was helping Sam file crap. He was kind of desperate.

           Dean smirked as he left his room, glancing around and hearing Sam banging around in the kitchen getting breakfast—also apparently having given up his filing venture.

           He was about to go to his younger brother’s room when he heard the sound of the shower running and then saw that Cas’ door was invitingly open. Dean glanced toward the shower room and then back to Cas’ with a sudden thought. He’d pranked Sam with itching powder multiple times, he’d know what it was instantly, and though it would he hilarious to watch him realize what Dean had done, it would be a lot more fun to see Cas have absolutely no clue why he was itching so much.

           Deciding there was no way he was passing up this opportunity, Dean slipped into Cas’ room and found his clean clothes laid out nicely on the bed. Dean glanced over his shoulder once to make sure Sam wouldn’t come along and ruin it, before he opened the itching powder and carefully sprinkled some of it inside Cas’ t-shirt and, yep, even in his underwear. If you were gonna commit to a prank, you had to do it right.

           Dean carefully tried to put the clothes back as he had found them as he heard the shower turn off. He hastily retreated from the room and started back down the hall toward the library, trying to wipe the grin from his face as the shower room door opened and Cas emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist.

           “Good morning, Dean,” the ex-angel said.

           “Hey, Cas,” Dean replied biting the inside of his cheek so he wouldn’t start laughing. “Fresh coffee in the kitchen.”

           Cas nodded and Dean beat a hasty retreat, snickering to himself as he went to grab his own breakfast.

           Sam looked up from a book he was reading at the kitchen table, frowning at his brother. “What?”

           “Nothin’,” Dean replied and grabbed a bowl for cereal.

           Sam shook his head and went back to his book.

           Cas entered a couple minutes later and Trouble instantly came to greet him before moving pointedly toward his food bowl in the corner.

           “Hold on, Trouble,” Cas said and grabbed the food, measuring it out and filling the bowl. Trouble mrowedhappily and set to eating. Cas put the bag of food aside and frowned as he scratched under his arm. Dean quickly turned to stare at his cereal, taking a huge bite.

           Cas got a cup of coffee and his own bowl of cereal and went to sit down at the table across from Dean.

           “Any plans today?” he asked and frowned slightly again, shifting on the seat. Dean took a deep sip of his coffee.

           “Uh, not really. Sam is trying to organize more of the library research stuff. I’m probably gonna make a run to the grocery store, so let me know if you need anything.”

           Cas reached below the table and his face scrunched up as he wiggled in his seat a bit. “Um, no, I think I’m okay.”

           Dean nearly lost it every time Cas went to scratch, looking more and more perturbed, but he was a professional so he kept his cool. The ex-angel was starting to wiggle around so much though that Sam finally glanced over at him.

           “You okay, Cas?” he asked.

           “Fine,” Cas snapped and he stood up to take his bowl to the sink. He started to wash it then had to stop to scratch at his stomach with a wet hand, grunting a bit. He quickly left the room as soon as he was done washing his bowl and Dean got up to do the same.

           “Need anything at the store Sammy? More fancy shampoo?” Dean asked his brother.

           Sam rolled his eyes. “No, Dean, I’m fine. Just grab some fruit and vegetables for once, okay? You can’t live off bacon!”

           Dean snorted but was interrupted as Cas came hurrying back into the kitchen, fingers scrabbling all over his body now.

           “Hey, what’s up?” Dean asked as innocently as possible.

           “Something’s wrong,” Cas grunted, twisting and trying to dig his fingers into his armpit and between his shoulder blades at the same time. “I can’t stop the itching!”

           Sam stood up with a frown. “Did you use a new soap or something?”

           “No, the same one I always do!” Cas cried and growled as he scratched at his ribs. “It’s infuriating!”

           “Where exactly do you itch?” Sam asked.

           “All over!” Cas snapped then let out a distressed growl and was forced to scratch his crotch. Dean had to cough to hide his smirk.

           “Even there?” he asked.

           “Yes, even there!” Cas cried then noticed the hunter smiling. “Dean! This isn’t funny! It could be a curse!”

           That broke through Dean’s ‘professional’ exterior and he folded in half, laughing uproariously.

           “Dean!” Sam snapped. “Seriously?”

           “I’m sorry, I can’t, it’s just too good!” Dean got out between laughs, wiping his eyes. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious.”

           “Wait,” Sam glanced between Cas, still scratching desperately, and his laughing brother and seemed to put two-and-two together. He gave an exasperated sigh. “Oh my god, Dean, you didn’t put itching powder in his clothes.”

           Dean only grinned with a snort. “I did!” and then he started to laugh harder.

           Cas gave him a look of betrayal and Sam grabbed the ex-angel’s arm, steering him back toward the dormitory ward. “Why are you perpetually five?” Sam demanded with a longsuffering look. “Come on, Cas, just go take a rinse off in the shower. I’ll grab you some clean clothes that I’ll make sure Dean doesn’t touch.”

           Dean worked on calming his laughter. Sure, it had been a mean prank, but the look on Cas’ face… Priceless!

           Sam came back a few moments later with a bitchface, arms crossed over his chest. “Come on, man, I know we’re all stir crazy, but you don’t have to torture Cas.”

           “Stop being so protective,” Dean said. “Cas can handle a little pranking here and there, he’s a big boy.”

           Sam shook his head, but looked up as Cas reappeared in clean clothes, his brow still furrowed.

           Sam cast Dean a look and the older man finally sighed. “Alright, fine. Cas, no hard feelings, right?”

           The ex-angel just shook his head. “No, Dean, of course not.”

           Both Sam and Dean looked at him with a little surprise. Sam looked like he was going to say something but Dean shrugged. “Well, okay then. I guess I’m going to the store now.”

           He grabbed his jacket and headed out to the garage.

           As soon as he was gone, Sam turned to Cas. “You know Dean’s just a jerk and he means it all in good fun.”

           Cas smiled slightly as he bent to pick up Trouble who was rubbing against his legs. “I am aware of the custom of pranking. Humans aren’t the only ones who do it. After all, Gabriel was my older brother.”

           Sam chuckled slightly, shrugging in acknowledgement.

           “So,” Cas said. “I believe retribution is part of it, correct?”

           Sam grinned, seeing where the angel is going. “Typically, yeah.”

           Cas grinned back. “Then I think we have some planning to do.”

***

Dean woke up the next morning and turned his alarm off before he rolled out of bed with a yawn. He rubbed his eyes and went to the shower room stripping out of his sleep clothes and stepping into the shower once the water got to be the right temperature. He sighed in contentment as he felt the hot water wash over him. He decided that today he was going to put in an extra effort to find a case, even if it was just something remotely weird. The only thing he was sure of was that he was not going to get roped into another day of filing. Yuck.

           He thought he heard the door to the room open and frowned, hands in his sudsy hair. “Sam?” he called.

           There was no answer though, so he shrugged it off and finished washing up.

           He stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel and coming away with just a washcloth. Dean cast around the room, looking for more towels and saw none. Okay, he was sure he had put one within reach…

           He dried off as much as possible with the tiny washcloth and then glanced down at the spot his sleep clothes had been, figuring he could just throw his pajama pants on again, but…they weren’t there.

           “Son of a bitch,” he growled, knowing now that Sam or Cas had come in here after all. Maybe one of them was on a laundry kick and had taken his clothes. And his clothes. And all the towels.

           Dean huffed as he covered himself as much as he could with the washcloth and hurried from the shower room to his own room. He tossed the washcloth aside and went to his drawers.

           But when he opened them he cursed again. What. The. Hell.

           The only thing left in his drawers were the pair of cutoffs (the short ones) that he wore when he washed the car, and a pink t-shirt he had never seen before that had been cut into a crop top. Alright, if this is how they were gonna play it…

           Dean put the shorts on, and grabbed the pink crop top before storming out of his room.

           “Sam!” he cried. “This isn’t funny! Where the hell are my clothes?”

           Snickering could be heard from the library and he stormed in there, only to be met by a flash.

           “Say cheese!” Sam grinned, holding up his phone to take another picture.

           “Dude, what the hell? Stop taking pictures!” Dean snarled, lunging forward to wrestle with Sam for the phone. Another flash came from behind them and Dean spun around to see Cas holding up his own phone.

           “Really, you too?”

           Cas shrugged with a small smile. “At least it wasn’t itching powder, Dean.”

           “You guys suck,” Dean grunted, throwing the pink shirt at Sam. “Alright, I get it. I yield,” he added, holding up his hands.

           Sam and Cas shared a look. “What do you think?” Sam asked.

           “Well, it was amusing, but…” Cas cast a look at Dean’s outfit, or rather, lack thereof, making a face.

           Sam cringed. “Yeah, we’re gonna have to look at him dressed in that all day. I mean, that’s more punishment for us.”

           “Oh, funny,” Dean snorted, folding his arms self-consciously across his still damp bare chest.

           “Okay,” Cas gave in and motioned to a laundry basket set against the bookshelves. Dean went over to it and grabbed his clothes, heading back to his room to change.

           Sam and Cas grinned at each other and laughed. “Phase one complete,” Sam whispered.

***

Dean threw his pile of clotheson his bed and grabbed his jeans and a t-shirt and flannel. He combed his still wet hair into some semblance and then reached for his deodorant.

           He knew something was wrong the instant it touched his armpit. It was cold and slimy.

           “Ugh!” Dean cried and pulled it from under his shirt, inspecting the deodorant stick. It didn’t look right, kind of yellow. He brought it to his nose.

           “Butter? Seriously? Who does that?” he demanded and tugged his shirt off, wiping the greasy substance from his skin.

           He stormed back out to the kitchen. “You guys know it’s on you that I didn’t put deodorant on today!”

           “Don’t worry, I got you a new one,” Sam told him as Dean came into the kitchen and then motioned to a pastry box on the table. “Now that that’s over, how about a doughnut?”

           “Doughnuts?” Dean asked, eyeing the box skeptically.

           Cas nodded and pushed the box over. “A peace offering.”

           Dean looked between them and then Trouble who was watching him with almost a smirk on his face.

           He really should have listened to his better judgment and not taken a doughnut, but…doughnuts!

           Dean sighed and sat at the table, picking up a cream-filled one. “Alright, well, thanks.” He said and took a big bite.

           He instantly spit it out, choking. “What the hell? Have these gone bad or something?”

           Sam and Cas were laughing. Dean growled and threw the rest of the disgusting doughnut at his brother’s head, which Sam dodged expertly. “That’s disgusting!”

           “Maybe you should try a jelly one instead,” Cas said with such sincerity that, damn him, Dean actually picked one up and bit it.

           Something salty filled his mouth and he got up and ran to the sink to spit. “Ugh! Ketchup? Really?”

           “And mayonnaise,” Cas added, nodding to the other discarded doughnut.

           Dean growled at them and hurried to the fridge grabbing the orange juice and pouring a big glass. He’d already chugged a big mouthful of it before he was back at the sink spitting out the disgusting substance. “Oh my god, what is that?” he demanded, turning on the sink and rinsing his mouth out.

           Sam and Cas were in stitches by now, the bastards. “It’s the cheese powder from the box macaroni,” Sam offered.

           “That’s disgusting!” Dean snapped, but all he got from them was continued laughter.

           Finally, he grunted and shook his head. “Okay, okay, I get it. Warning accepted. Cas, I’m sorry I put itching powder in your clothes. I think we should all agree that a prank war between the three of us is a bad idea. But can we stop it right now before we end up burning the bunker down or something?”

           Sam and Cas shared a look and shrugged. “I accept your apology, Dean,” Cas said, still grinning. “Just don’t forget it.”

           “Yeah, not likely to.”

           Sam’s phone buzzed and he glanced at the screen. “Hey, looks like Jody found us a case.”

           “Thank god,” Dean groaned. “Let’s get out of here!”

           “Also, she loves the new look, Dean.”

           “New look…?” Sam turned his phone around to show the text thread with the picture of Dean in the cutoffs, angrily waving the pink shirt. “You bastard!” Dean snarled.

           “She wanted to know if you do parties.”

           “Screw you, bitch,” Dean snapped and stormed off to his room to pack, reconsidering his truce already.

           Once he was gone, Cas turned to Sam. “Should we tell him about how we distressed the seems in his pants?”

           Sam hesitated, but grinned. “Nah, let’s leave that for him to figure out himself.”

           Cas grinned in return and the two followed Dean out to the car.

#supernatural fanficion #my fics #one shot #April fools #dean gets had #cas gets revenge #sam and cas against dean #pranks and fun #humor #TFW #a thing or two about being human

[trulycertain]

Random Acts

He could live with the nightmares, but he's out of cigarettes. In which Jensen has a bad day, and learns that he's not as subtle as he thought.

(I just realised that I’d posted this on AO3 but not over here. Anyhow: this seemed like a logical extension of all the scrapes and side quests you can get into trying to help people, the melodramatic tech-as-divine imagery and how damn uncanny augs must seem to most NPCs. Gen, 1.4k.)

Most days are better. This isn't one of them. 

He blames having too much time on his hands: a week off, now the fallout from the London mess has settled down. Miller said it like it was relaxing, rather than enough time for his brain to dig up old wounds. He muttered something about how stop moving and you can drown, and got a weary retort. You're not a shark, Jensen. Even you're human, Jensen. You never relaxed in your goddamn life, Jensen? Sounded something like that. Probably more formal. He was running on a couple days without sleep at the time, so he let himself get shoved out of the office.

The first couple days, he managed not to think too much, aside from a scrap with some Dvali. Even caught a game while looking over the reports he wasn't supposed to be editing. He messaged Malik, and she asked pointedly if she'd ever get to see Prague. He's had worse weekends. The third day, he wakes up from dreams of dark water and scalpels. He tries to get his head together and breathe, half-expecting to see his old place, to hear Megan working on something in the next room. It takes a second to hit him. He scrapes his hands down his face and feels sick when he sees black metal instead of skin. He hasn't had a day like this in a while. Can't say he's missed it.

Turns out showering is pretty hard when you're trying not to look at the butchered mess of machinery that used to be your body, but he gets through it. He skips breakfast, even though the augs won't thank him later. The Sentinel would stop it coming back up, probably, but it isn't worth it for how off it'd feel. He closes his eyes, inhales. He'd call it steeling himself, but all that comes to mind is some crack Pritchard made. Here I thought you were mostly titanium and fibres, Jensen. He opens them and tries not to look down too often, shoving a cigarette into the corner of his mouth - and pausing. He checks the packet. He even shakes it a little, in the hope his luck has somehow improved in the past five minutes.

Shit. Empty.

He puts it aside with a sigh. He only stops to get dressed, put his last cigarette in his mouth and light it before he shuts the door behind him, listening to the triple security system engage. Then he heads out to find the kiosk down near the station that doesn't keep hiking up their prices for "the weird American aug, not like he can read the labels anyway." Once he gets onto the main streets, the noise of the crowds almost drowns out the noise in his head. But that fades once he gets close to the side alleys near the shopping district, and he focuses on the nicotine instead. Leans on a wall next to some multi-tool place, slips into the shadows where no-one's likely to bother to bother the clank, and takes a decent drag. Wonders about trying to get a hold of Alex, even though the Collective's more of a "we'll call you" operation. "You don't understand. He moved like lightning." He recognises that voice, though he can't put his finger on where from. It's coming from round the corner, and he considers looking before figuring it's none of his business and giving a mental shrug. He's done enough invading other people's privacy, one way or another. He tries to shut it out. She's speaking Czech, anyway. He could always shut off the CASIE translator, but he'll need it to haggle in a few minutes, and he's gotten good at not listening over the years. "And there was lightning - I think it was his augmentations - " Another voice, female. Scoffing. Disgusted. "Some clank saved you?" Her voice is low. "Don't use that word. It makes you sound like a bigot." She sighs. "Without him, things would have been much worse. He sent the ones that weren't on the ground running." Wait, that was - He knows exactly who they're talking about. Yeah, now he remembers. The owner of one of the tech stores. She was opening up early in the morning, and some Dvali thugs had been hassling her on her doorstep, offering "protection." He'd really did try to keep walking, but he's never been good at walking past rather than walking into. Call it a cop thing. "Then what was he?" her friend asks. "You won't listen." "Try me." "He was... It was like he didn't even have to think. I've never seen anything like it. Anyone. He was beautiful, Marta." He shuts his eyes. He's pretty sure he shouldn't be hearing this. He exhales smoke near-silently, tries to make himself move. "What, so he was a handsome clank?" "Yes - no - yes. But that's not what I..." "You're some kind of aug fetishist now?" "It wasn't the augs... They weren't... He was kind. And his eyes... It was like he understood." For a second, he has to wonder when he took the shields down - then he remembers. She was still shaking. She flinched away from him, and he backed up, tried to show her he wasn't going to hurt her. He asked her in halting, mangled Czech if she was all right, if the Dvali were usually a problem. Probably came out more like Thugs shop often? The translation mods are good for some things, but not for that. He figured she'd get the idea. The Dvali owned half the neighbourhood. No, she said, that's a recent thing. She smiled, still hesitating, and finally met his eyes. You know, you can speak English. I studied in London. He took the out. The accent give it away? That, and you're dressed like an American TV show. He looked down at himself, a little self-consciously.

Do you think they will come back?

He looked back over his shoulder. It'd be better if they didn't. "I don't remember you being a fool for a pretty face." Her voice was flat. "He sat in the front for nearly an hour with me, just to make sure they wouldn't come back." Well, it was his day off. Not like he had a prior engagement. My name is Jana, she said eventually, after offering him tea. He refused, told her she'd done more than enough. You have a name? Jensen. Is that a first name, or last? Last. Day off, he reminded himself. The first's Adam. Thank you for keeping me in business, Mr. Jensen.

He nodded awkwardly, recalling the labels he'd read on the way in. You're the only place within five blocks that doesn't overcharge.

Mm. She looked at him, amused. So really, you were doing this for better supplies. Nothing to do with the goodness of your heart.

He inclined his head, letting that be an answer.

What brought an American to Prague?

He considered his answer, knowing most of it was redacted and red tape. Work, mainly. He looked down and realised that a plate had appeared on the table next to him. It had some kind of shortbread on it. He glanced back up.

Are you police?

I... Not anymore. Not for a long time. Just bad at keeping out of trouble.

I thought you couldn't be. At his questioning look, she said, Too nice. She laughed at the look on his face, and there wasn't fear in it. "Did they come back?" "No. And the crowds came in, after that. Enough people to make the Dvali hesitate." "You got crowds with some aug glaring at them?" "He was... quiet. Not glaring. I didn't even see him leave. But he probably saved my life. Or at least my store. I'd only seen the domestic augmentations, the construction augs. I'd never realized - the ARC posters." "The yellow ones at the station?" "Those. There's a reason they paint augs like angels."

He stares at the opposite wall, unblinking. Drops the cigarette stub and crushes it underfoot, and pauses. He looks down at his fingers, considering the glint and shine of sunlight on metal. He's pretty sure taking the shortbread on the way out was proof of humanity. "And that's not overdramatic at all," her friend says, with a laugh.

"I know, I know. But I can't help thinking it."

"I always knew you liked shiny things, but this is a whole new low. Come on. I'm making you tea."

He steps out of the alley and keeps walking. Coffee. Maybe coffee'll help him wake up, after the kiosk. He keeps walking, and in the sunlight, he blinks away the last of the nightmares.

#my fic #adam jensen #deus ex mankind divided #deus ex #OC #in this case: jana the shortbread-baking multitool seller #what? #you meet enough odd npcs in prague #anyhow #now back to the dragon age

[furashuban]

Vexation

i’m finally continuing my lapidot convenience store au

Link to AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12048483/chapters/29757732

Chapter 2

12:35AM

The sound of a petite bell chimed as the entrance of the store opens. Somebody was coming in. And thankfully, it was someone that Peridot and Lapis knew. The first customer of the night was a kid who looked around 10 or 14 years old. A description of him as perceived by everyone who knew him especially Pearl, Peridot and Lapis would be optimistic, lyrical, and overall expressive. But mainly, he was the best friend of Lapis and Peridot, as well as Peridot’s little brother figure.

The child patron walks in with a yellow star imprinted on his pink shirt as well as wearing a thick peach jacket. “Hey guys!” the young-looking customer calls gleefully as soon as he walks in. “How are my two favorite buds and evening co-workers doing?”

Lapis glimpses out of an aisle to see him. “Oh. Hey, Steven.” Lapis replies contented. “We’re doing fine I guess.”

Steven halts and turns his sight to the counter. He sees Peridot, drained and resting her head and arms on the countertop. She seemed to have passed out irresponsibly during work hours, despite how there was a half-drank cup of coffee by her hand which was obviously consumed by her.

“Morning, Peridot.” Steven says. The short girl whirrs and raises her head slightly.

“Oh, uh, good morning to you too, Steven…” she yawns and runs her hand through her hair. She struggles to fix her posture while sitting up or keep a stern face. “…How can I help you…?”

Steven chuckles to her rest deficiency as he assumes that one of his best friends wasn’t being focused at all to her time management like always. “Its fine, Peridot, you can go back to your nap. I’m just here to see if there are any more Cookie Cats tonight.”

Lapis finally walks out of the aisle and ambles by the counter near Peri. “Why don’t you get some by that big donut place?” she asks.

“Well, the Big Donut always closes after 8pm. And this is the only store I know that still sells cookie cats.” Steven replies. “And besides, you guys are here. It’s always nice to see how both of you are doing.” “Aww.” The two girls grin.

Lapis guises to her left, athwart the room where a petite freezer filled with ice cream sandwich packets were placed on another counter. “Luckily, I found and restocked a fresh batch of them a few minutes ago. Just don’t try to take the whole freezer.” She says.

Steven chuckles and goes to take a dozen of his favorite cold snacks. Probably 3 or 5 to count. He carries them to Peridot’s counter and dribs them lightly on top, and she proceeds to grab the price checker to estimate the price. Normal retail stuff was happening basically.

“That’ll be 5 dollars, Steven.” Peridot says. The star shirted customer follows and pays up. “Also, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you always up this late? Shouldn’t it be a school night for you?” she also inquires him.

The payment is put in the register before Steven could think on how to answer that question. “Hmm…Well, I don’t go to school since my dad and Pearl say I could get bullied. So I’m homeschooled by them sometimes. Dad teaches me about weird dad stuff and Pearl teaches things like history and table manners.” Steven says. “But I am going to enroll in the school that my friend Connie goes to so we could study together. OH WAIT–––Is Pearl here? I should probably tell her that.”

One of them would happily call Pearl outside her office just for Steven to meet, but they guess they would rather not confront their manager again after recognizing her frustration. Pearl would probably castoff what they have to say and be ordered to go back to work before even stepping out of her small workspace.

“Uh…She hasn’t arrived here yet.” Lapis recoils. “Sorry Steven.”

Peridot puts the heaps of cookie cats into a light-green plastic bag, generally used in the store and hands it over to Steven. “Here ya go. And have a good night.”

“You know, Peridot, I don’t think you should be up this late either.” Steven says flippantly as he grabs his bag and receipt . “You look…tired.”

The petite employee rubs her eyes and slouches forward. “I look great.” Her hair is skirmished by her chortling partner.

Steven then paces to the exit door reaches it to open it widely. But before he leaves, he gapes back at the counter and glances at his two best friends just to say an elated “Goodbye you guys!” Lapis and Peridot wave grinning and also express a farewell. “See you again Steven!”

The acquitted kid ambles out and a bell chimes again as the exit closes. The store was back to stillness and solitude despite the fact there were two employees to keep that happening for themselves.

“So…what now?” Lapis asks.

1:15AM

Well, as expected at this point, the store was more dead silent than outside, more empty than outside and extremely lethargic so to speak. Peridot had been standing and, or sitting by the counter while staring at the glass entrance and trying to wait for ANYBODY to come in. As for Lapis, she basically seemed like she was loitering inside the store. With a setting like this, they didn’t need much of a break time since they were barely working at all. Peridot sighs heavily and rests her arms and chin on the counter yet again. All the energy left to keep her active by the cashier was wasted. Lapis sees the sluggish behavior of her partner and goes to walk behind the board. She leans towards the petite employee and parcels herself gently on top of Peridot, incasing her waist around her arms and practically begins to bask on her.

They both groan slothful and warm. “Why does time have to run slowly on us Lapis…?” Peridot complains. “It could be worse…” Lapis denotes.

Suddenly, the sound of a tiny bell rings for a second time. The two girls gasp and get up gradually to go back to their positions. Peridot standing up now and Lapis sited near a metal shelf. A completely random customer had shown up to either boost the mood of customer service or makes their jobs harder than it looks. But this particular customer looked a bit intriguing and pretty absurd, and Lapis and Peridot gave a clear expression saying ‘what the hell?’ and 'who the hell?’ It was a cumbersome man with blonde and much coiled hair, wearing a grey camouflage getup and a pair of binoculars around his neck. As he walked in, he appeared to be crouching and turning his head slowly as if he was being watchful from nonexistent entities inside the store. Even his eyes were squinting hard and his fingers were twitching. This person must have some sort of illness.

“…May I help you…?” Peridot asks nervously.

Suddenly, the customer glances to the cashier and gives a frightening direct stare at Peridot, immediately scaring her to some extent. “he isn’t going to mug me, is he…?” The customer speaks at last. “Hmm…Why yes.” He stands normally and adjusts his glasses. “I guess you can help by answering this question…Are you aware of ‘Rock People’ hiding and lurking in our social order and attacking our city?” he says stormed. Absurd enough already.

“Uhh. What…?” Lapis asks muddled.

“Well you see, I run a blog called ‘Keep Beach City Weird’ where I talk about all the weird stuff happening in my town of ‘Beach City’. I also made a web-exclusive documentary called "Rising Tides, Crashing skies” and I boldly explained the existence of Rock People as well as putting real recorded clips of them attacking our town.“

Lapis and Peridot have actually seen that documentary before. Steven showed it to them a few months ago when he last visited and they had to give their opinions on it until the end. And well…it was confusing, poorly edited, pathetically produced, and overall cringy. And most of the 'real recorded clips’ was too hard to view anyway due to dark lighting and a shaky camera. They were surprised yet assured that Steven was the only one who ever viewed it and actually left a positive review. Apparently, the customer they were faced with was Ronaldo Fryman, a fanatical blogger and surprisingly bigger, more obnoxious dork than Peridot. And judging from his behavior in his documentary and now, they were going to have a hell of a time trying to satisfy this guy’s needs.

Ronaldo continued to talk. "I’ve been tracking their whereabouts for the past month and I found that one of their possible hiding spots is in this very location.” he says. “I suppose this is just an ordinary convenience store located in a deserted plaza. But rock people have been known to terraform, or in this case ‘shapeshift’ themselves and everything they touch…”

“Is that so…” Peridot replies sarcastically.

The fervent chatter mouth suddenly hushes and gapes at Peridot unnervingly again. Only this time, he quickly grasses up to the cashier and smacks the counter with his palms. He hums, inspecting the petite employee’s appearance with his eyes. It was enough to make Peridot clearly terrified and Lapis triggered.

“How do I know you aren’t one of them now? Rock people are known to shapeshift. And if you are one of them, you’re doing a terrible job at it…” he says. “No human could possibly have that kind of outrageous hair and be this absurdly short…” he couriers his inspection to Peridot rudely.

“Hey!”

Even though their customer has only been in the store for less than 30 seconds, Lapis wanted him to get out of here quickly since nothing he has said sounded remotely fascinating to her nor Peridot.

“I don’t mean to interrupt but…” in actuality, she did. “Are you going to get something and leave or are you just going to mess with us with your nonsense?”

Now Ronaldo switches his gawp to the blue haired girl and paces outwards from the counter. Lapis isn’t intimidated or dreaded by the coiled blonde’s stature, but appearing more like she’s trying to stretch those emotions to him instead.

“Maybe you’re one of them, too…There’s no way someone’s hair can be that shade of blue and poofy at the same time.” he assumes to her. “It seems to me that you rock people are becoming more pathetic when it comes to changing your manes.”

Lapis inhales heavily. “Ever heard of hair dye…?” she thinks. “I don’t think any human either could have hair that looks like curly fries spilling out of a smokescreen hat…”

Insulting employees in a store such as this one right now is certainly an offense to customer responsibilities. But according to the rules, Ronaldo can’t be bleakly kicked out or get arrested unless he became physically offensive. For now, they were just going to have to wait until he actually got something and leave for good.

Apparently phase 1 of his crap was on its way to phase 2. “THIS IS A HUB FOR ROCK PEOPLE!” he exclaims his entitlement suddenly and raises a finger up. “THERE’S NO DENYING IT!”

“Dumbass, this is a convenience store.” Peridot says intentionally arduous. “And please don’t shout or you’ll call our boss out here.”

“And by ‘boss’, you mean your invasion commander.” Lapis takes an exasperating heavy breath once more.

Ronaldo ambles toward a random shelf holding snacks that Lapis replenished an hour ago. He examines it carefully yet poorly, fondling his chin, and alarming Lapis and Peridot as they wonder what he was trying to do or say next.

“I bet this isn’t even a real shelf…” he says. At that moment, he lays his palm on the top of the ledge and grips it somewhat hard. “This is some kind of switch that reveals the true appearance of your LAIR!”

The shelf was forcefully pushed down by the coiled hair nuisance and crashes to the floor. Ronaldo was expecting an alteration of scenery in the store to reveal some kind of wicked den. But instead, he just caused an earsplitting mess, probably some collateral damage, and nearly harming Lapis who was standing in front of the impairment. The senseless act immediately triggered the two employees into anger.

“Oh come on! I just finished filling that up a while ago.” Lapis shouts aggressively. “What the hell is your problem?!” All at once, Peridot rushes out of the cashier and strides to Lapis so she could grasp her arm tightly and initiate trying to protect her. “You need to leave, now!” she says irately.

Ronaldo takes a second to quickly figure out and glance on what he has committed. Bags of chips and other snack assortments were dispersed wretchedly and lots of them crushed underneath the now wrecked shelf. But he doesn’t hesitate to say another word.

“Uh…” tenseness was in his tone while he seemed to be drenched. “I’m sure your lair’s transformation takes a while to do…Any second now…”

Nothing happened.

“Okay maybe that was too big to be the switch.” Ronaldo detects. “…But I think I know another possibility!”

The employees creak and watch him in spleen concern as Ronaldo hastes to the counter and grasps for the novelty glasses stand. And right off the bat, he bashes the stand off the top and sees it strike the ground, making another unwanted mess as glasses were now strewn. “Here goes nothing!”

*SMASH*

Alas, still nothing happened. Ronaldo was groaning oddly on when the so-called transformation of the room might happen. The switch could be anywhere, he believed. The next thing he was most likely to hit was the soda machine inches away. Hence he goes forth. “Of course! This time I–––“

But Lapis finally snaps as her undersized temper was torn open. “Augh. That’s it…!” she exclaims. Peridot’s grip on her arm was loosened quickly and she clenches Ronaldo’s torso before he could even touch the soda machine, pulling him hazardously close and shifting her expression to become fiercer. The two people around her begin to feel frantic.

“Now listen…” Lapis utters. “You’ve only been here for 2 minutes and yet somehow, you’re already an obnoxious pain for me and my girlfriend to do our jobs. And I don’t wake up in the middle of the night just to come here and see this place getting trashed so I could clean it again later…” She points out patently forceful. “Also, whatever ‘rock people’ are, they sure as hell aren’t here and we aren’t them, so you’re just a lunatic. And I suggest you grab something, get the fuck out, and have a good night…” she finishes with a striking tone of rage and her grip on his torso becomes sorer.

Peridot listens to her gruff honesty next to her. She felt her face warming up, consequently realizing she was blushing by some means. She never had to see Lapis so angry before other than a few moments where she was mad at HER, and at this moment now. “Damn, Lazuli.” She thinks.

Lapis’ unswerving glare through Fryman’s glasses made him suddenly frightened and mumbled with fear. He writhed, inaudibly begging her to be let go off. So the blue haired girl lets go and watches the customer take a couple of breaths.

“Okay then…” he utters and then coughs a little. “This is not a rock person hub. Maybe my maps back in my lighthouse was scattered…” Ronaldo then grabs a nearby and furrowed nacho chip bag. “I guess I’ll just take this to go…”

Lapis looks back at her partner and signals her to rush to the counter. “Peridot…” she says mollified. “Yeah, I’m on it.” She replies. Peridot takes the snack out of the customer’s hand and checks it on the counter in seconds. Ronaldo pays for it and then shoves it under his concealment suit.

“Oh yeah, there’s one more thing before I go…” he brings out what appeared to be a pamphlet from his pocket. “Would you like a Ronalphlet? It’s supposed to help you become aware of the dangers that threaten Beach–––“

The petite employee swiftly takes his brochure and looks over it. Her expression becomes stern with familiar irritation, and later she tears the piece of paper into two pieces. Peridot never opened the whole thing to read it nor did she even care to after tonight. Ronaldo’s facial emotion that he gave was mildly dissatisfied, but that’s what the employees have felt for the past 5 minutes or so with him. Irony was showered to some extent, and Ronaldo exited the door with his head facing down and walking hastily.

The two girls watch him go out with relief, closing their eyes and exhaling what felt like near-death. But their attention gaped to the parking lot where they overheard the curly blonde uttering loudly about being an idiot of some sorts. Lapis walks over to the counter once again and felt compulsory to confront her partner.

“Good job ripping his pamphlet.” She accolades. “Do you feel alright?”

“I think I should be the one asking you that, Laz…” Peridot replies tentatively. “…And thanks.”

They glance at the substandard scenery of the convenience store. Lapis grasps Peridot’s shoulder and lightly clutches it while sighing at full volume once again to relieve her stress. Peridot follows by exhaling herself. Their heads were face down and contemplating on the situation. It wasn’t like this was the first time this has happened anyway, but this was the first time it had happened in a while. Like what Lapis said earlier, it could be worse. Apparently this was as worse as it can get. They were in a convenience store that needed more or less cleaning, even though that was done earlier and before.

The blue haired girl glanced blandly at the office door. “You think Pearl heard all this from her office?” Lapis asks.

“She would be outside to see us by now.” Peridot replies. “But look…” she then grasps the hand seizing her shoulder and gapes at Lapis. “you should just sit here for a bit and I will take care of this mess. It doesn’t look too much to clean anyway.” Peridot has a nonexistent radar that turns on whenever her partner is in some sort distress. It’s pretty much turned on all the time, but she knew that Lapis has been the one most forewarned and awake tonight. And she wanted to take her shifts this early.

#my works #lapidot #human au #convenience store #steven universe #fanfiction #lapis lazuli #peridot #steven #ronaldo fryman #series #it took me MONTHS!

[softforimjaebum]

lost my mind

Chapter 2

Im Jaebum x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Genre: Angst

Summary: The one where Im Jaebum’s cold heart melts, just a little.

Author’s Note: This chapter was going to be much longer, but it felt too rushed so I kept this short. Not entirely sure anymore where I want this story to go so this is so shitty wow sorry bye

Chapter 1

Safe to say, Jaebum wasn’t expecting that answer. He wasn’t actually sure what he was expecting asking something like that, but it was definitely not that one. To him, her reply only meant one thing. She knew what it felt like to be all alone when you’re not okay.

From his peripheral vision he could see her walk to a bench a little to his left, sit down and light something, which he could only guess was a cigarette. He sighed to himself, why did he always have to be so harsh? How many people wanted to make some stranger at a park was doing okay because they knew how it felt to be alone when you're not okay? He appreciated whatever it was in people that made them care. He appreciated it because he was so void of it.

Reaching to his right to retrieve a cigarette for himself, he almost groaned out loud when he noticed that he was all out. He must have not realised that his pack was almost over before leaving his dorm. For a little while, he just sat staring ahead, wondering if he should try to find a convenience store nearby and risk buying it himself. Usually their staff would buy it for them, risking an idol buying cigarettes wasn’t good for business. Then an idea struck him.

She was lost in her music, trying to drown out the thoughts that made it difficult for her  to breathe. There was so much she needed to still figure out; about her life, her interests, what she really wanted to do after she was done with her studies, so many more questions than she had answers for. And to think she used to believe that leaving her family home would be enough. It was good to be living alone without her extremely slightly overbearing parents, to be able to make the little decisions for herself without having to explain it to them, but what it didn’t do was give her the answers she was looking for.

She didn't even know how she had landed up in Korea, when she applied to a Korean university over 2 years ago, she hadn’t ever thought she would actually get accepted. But next thing she knew, she had her acceptance letter in her hand and everything was a whirlwind until she landed here and reality hit her. It wasn’t like she stuck out too much, she had a couple of more tattoos than the ladies on the streets would like, but nothing about that was new to her. That was actually the part that made her feel less homesick.

But homesickness is something no one warns you about and it transpires in the weirdest possible ways. For her, the feeling of an unknown city was exciting on the good days but on the bad days it was a mixture of being homesick, missing her go to comfort foods and her comfort people, and an overly anxious mind. Nothing about such nights helped her depression either, and she its not like she could afford therapy here. She was a college student, and even though she could probably afford it if she picked up an extra shift at work and got a little help from her parents, she already felt she was a burden enough to ask for more.

So that plan had been put on the shelf until she had a more stable means of earning as well as less student loans to pay off; and until then, parks, cigarettes and music would have to suffice.

She had a great bunch of friends, very in number but they cared for her like family. But she hated bringing them down with her, so running away and being alone was the best solution she could think of to avoid that, and also get her own head in order.

He approached her park bench, unsure of just how to go about a conversation with someone he had brushed off so harshly. He wasn’t used to this, simply because he usually would never do this. But he really needed to smoke, and she was right there. And somewhere in his cold, dead heart (as most people referred to his heart as, and he agreed) he felt bad about how harsh he had been. He could see that she had earphones on, and her cigarette was forgotten, she was zoned out. That ruled out his initial plan to clear his throat from a safe distance to catch her attention and see how it went from there.

He decided on getting her attention by tapping her shoulder, hoping the action wouldn’t surprise her too much. She jumped a little at his touch, but nothing too dramatic. She took her earphones out as she looked up at him, mouth slightly agape.

“You..You’re…”

“Im Jaebum, yes” he interrupted her before she could say anything else. “Will that get in the way of me bumming a cigarette off you? I’m all out”

He showed her the empty packet he still held in his hand, and she took a moment to collect herself.

“You being Im Jaebum won’t get in the way of that” she started to say, and Jaebum physically relaxed, before she continued, “But you being a rude ass will”

He smiled sheepishly at her, she was headstrong, and she wasn’t going to give into him just because she realised who he was. Whoever this weird girl making sure other strangers were ok in parks was, he liked her.

“I apologise for my behaviour, I am known to not have the best reactions to…well, most things in life. It’s a handicap if you will”

She was quiet for a moment, just looking up at him to gauge whether his apology was honest or not.

“Okay”

She grabbed her own pack from the bench and held it out to him. He took one, and took a seat besides her.

“Is it like a normal thing for you to go up to strangers in parks?” he asked before he proceeded to light his cigarette.

She gave him an incredulous look before she looked ahead and sassed answered him.

“So much for being nice to the heartthrob of Korea”

He snickered. He wasn’t sure what his reaction would have been if someone else said the same things as her, but for once he didn’t mind being talked to like an actual human being instead of this perfection that could do no wrong.

“Well, thank you for that compliment, but in case you haven’t noticed, Korea isn’t really into this heartthrob”

It was no secret that GOT7, including Jaebum, weren’t all that popular in Korea. Their international fanbase was much larger than their home fanbase, and he had come to appreciate the freedom that brought. Not that he didn’t sometimes feel bad when they didn’t win as many music shows as other groups, but he had learnt to deal with it.

“Doesn’t stop you from getting mobbed if I remember correctly” she pointed out.

He couldn’t argue there, she had a valid point. He nodded, not sure of what to reply.

“Is it normal for you to be smoking in abandoned parks?” she asked.

“Actually…it is. That’s kind of sad huh?”

“Not really. Its pretty common for me too” she admitted, smiling at him for the first time.

He smiled back, nodded, and then they both fell silent. They sat in each other’s presence, surprisingly comfortable in the silence, trying to figure out their own minds.

After a while, she spoke up.

“Do you ever not know where your life is going? I mean, you are successful and you have a path you’ve chosen, but do you get lost anyway?”

He thought about her question for a while, and if he was being honest, he was always lost. He snowballed into this life instead of actually making a conscious decision about it. One thing had led to another, but he started out as just someone who loved to dance.

“I think I’m still lost” he answered honestly. “I know it may seem I am on a path but I don’t even know what it is. I'm supposed to be this escape for people, but I'm not sure what I am to myself”

She didn’t reply, mulling over what he said. She didn’t relate to him entirely, but she could put herself in his shoes. The kind of pressure he must feel, how lonely it must get being an idol.

“That was too deep wasn’t it?” he asked

“No, I’m just thinking”

He nodded, asking a question of his own, “What made you ask me that?”

She sighed, “Well, I’m lost too. I thought coming to Korea would be a great thing, thought it would give me the answers I was looking for. And don’t get me wrong its been a pretty great 2 years but I’m still searching for the same answers. I thought I would have at least some major answers by now, but I’m still stuck somewhere or the other”

“And what are those answers if I may ask?”

“You sure you wanna know? Most people hate this shit”

When he didn’t reply, just waiting for her response patiently, she continued.

“I am looking for answers to what I really wanna do in life. I’m not even sure what the meaning of my existence is, and I don’t just want to live an absolutely meaningless life. To be honest, when I got into kpop, I was almost jealous of your lives. Because whatever it might be, it was more productive a life than the one I was leading. And I know that is unfair to you because I can’t even imagine the hardships of being an idol, but yeah, selfishly I am jealous”

He thought over what she said. He was a little surprised to know that she was jealous of what she was jealous of, and not the fame and money.

“Too rambly wasn’t it?” she said, letting out a small laugh at herself.

“Yeah it was, but it makes sense. But I don’t think anyone ever finds out the meaning of life. I think we keep searching for that much longer than we realise”

“Touche”

The rest of their night was spent talking about existential things that most people found too heavy or too depressing to talk about. But there was a strange comfort in talking to a stranger about such things. When they noticed daylight breaking, he offered to walk her back to her dorm if she was okay with it, and she agreed.

On the way, she offered to buy him coffee for dropping her back and that is how it began; their weird, existential friendship. And that was a year ago.

#jaebum fanfic #jaebum scenarios #jaebum angst #jaebum imagines #jaebum #im jaebum fanfic #im jaebum scenarios #im jaebum angst #im jaebum imagines #jb #got7 #got7 angst #jb angst #fanfiction #fanfic #jb imagines #jb scenarios #*

[unholyhelbiglinked]

Skeleton Girl | Chapitre Sept

She drew in a slow breath, the hot smoke moving past her tongue in an almost bitter taste. It was a warm sensation that filled her lungs, contrasting strongly with the frigid air outside. The nicotine somehow calmed her nerves after a few hours of stop and go traffic, her back pressed against the cold metal truck she drove.

Mamrie glanced over at Grace, keeping the cigarette between her fingers as she let another stream of smoke pass her lips. She lifted her chin, offering the girl a drag, but she refused with a simple shrug, letting her natural breath make a cloud in the air.

The sound of cars rushing by was the only thing to interrupt the silence that surrounded them, the highway riddled with the noise of rubber mashing gravel. They had stopped for gas, the scent heavy in the air as the two girls waited for the rest of the crew to fill up the big trucks that held the multiple tents and iron that served as lowly frames.

"She wasn't mad." Mamrie finally spoke.

Grace continued to stare ahead, her eyes straining against the unbearable florescent lights that hung from the awning. It covered most of the gas pumps, making it seem like they were in the middle of the afternoon. The inky sky that met the glow gave off a sharp contrast, one that was convenient if not distracting.

Grace ran a hand through her hair, the warmth overtaking her fingers as they hid from the crisp air- if only for a moment. "No, it was weird. It's like she was almost numb to the idea of going back."

"Weren't you?" Mamrie asked, her eyes moving away from the convenient store, it's own yellow glow flickering with little clicks as the electricity faltered. She tapped the edge of the cigarette, red embers scattering across the ground "The first time you went back must have been hard."

The blonde clenched her jaw, her stance stiffening as she was smashed with the unwelcome memory of that night a few years prior. "No. I was perfectly fine."

"Mm," Mamrie grunted, knowing how to get a rise out of her counterpart. She didn't say another word as she took in a huff of smoke, letting it slide past her lips before throwing the rest of the cigarette to the ground. The tip of her boot pressed against it, taking out any light it would have yet to carry.

Grace rubbed her shoulder, trying to bring some heat back to it as Mamrie let out a loud whistle, signalling that time was about up. A few people let out sighs, knowing that we would be on the road for at least another hour. Grace knew better though. She shook her head as she started to walk back to the truck.

It was an older model. A 1963 blood red Chevy. The paint was chipping, but still held it's dark color, the beat up name of the circus sprawled across the side in cryptic black letters.

The taller girl slumped into her seat, cringing at the sound of the metal screeching as Hannah plopped down in the passenger seat- the sweet scent of mint filling her lungs. Grace couldn't help but stare at the girl, the beautiful girl that had been by her side for years now. It tore her apart inside, in a way.

"Hi?" Hannah asked, her breath forming in front of her as she pressed her hands deeper into the fleece pockets of her coat. A small smile was forming on her lips, her head cocking to the side as Grace stared.

"Hi" Grace responded, not stopping the smile that found a place on her own lips as she started the truck, the engine roaring to life as a bit of heat found it's way to their faces. Grace glanced down at Hannah's lap for a quick second, Delta curled up as the girl scratched the small dogs chin. It was cute, overwhelmingly adorable even.

They were quiet for a few minutes, Grace focusing on pulling onto the empty freeway as Hannah stared out the window, eyes trained on the star filled sky that blanketed them. The night was far under way, sleep begging to fall over both girls.

"You're not nervous?" Grace said, her tone almost like a statement rather a question. "That scares me."

"Hm," Hannah responded, her gaze still on the scenery that passed them rapidly "I thought nothing scared you."

The tall blonde was quiet for a few seconds, her palms pressed flush against the steering wheel. Hannah was avoiding having an actual conversation about this, she had been for the last couple of days. It made Grace feel unsettled, like a ball of ice melted through her veins, the numbness sometimes feigning safety.

"This does." Grace whispered, her breath shaky as she exhaled, not bothering to take her eyes off of the road. "Hannah, it's okay to be scared-"

"I'm not, okay?" The younger girl snapped, ending the conversation before it even started. "You really think anyone will still be around that empty town? I'm sure they found a way out, just like I did."

Grace swallowed lightly, shaking her head, refusing to give up on the matter "They didn't die, Hannah."

An awkward quiet fell over the cab of the car. The heater was running, a hot blast of hair hitting the both of them as Hannah let out a small, but warranted sigh. She was staring out the window, nothing but pure desert passing them by. There was nothing to look at except for the star filled sky and the endless miles of sand.  The leather was tight under Grace's gasp, her eyes focused on the road in front of them.

"I've never felt dead." Hannah said finally, just above a whisper. "In that town... that's when I felt that... that overwhelming sense of being stuck. It had one stoplight and a gas station." She let out a small laugh "I don't know if you've ever walked through it, but it was pathetic."

"I never got a chance," Grace responded, glancing over at the blonde, who seemed to be lost in thought. "But that doesn't mean you won't feel anything when you pass that county line."

"You're right," Hannah let out a small chuckle "I just... I want you to know that I didn't truly feel anything until I passed it the first time. I-I mean I went through the motions of school and work, and faking smiles with my family but Grace, you were the first person who made me feel anything."

Grace knit her eyebrows together, glancing at the girl in the passenger seat with wonder. She was rubbing the fabric at the end of her jacket nervously, refusing to look up. "Hannah, I stabbed you."

"And I felt every moment of it." She said, a bit exasperated. "My point is, I'm not afraid of what's in that town anymore, because you've shown me everything. You've shown me that it's okay to be a little bit scared... if you're not, then what's the point of life? Being stuck in a 9 to 5 job for the rest of my life and sitting behind a cramped desk."

Grace nodded, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. The liquid was metallic and coated her tongue as she let out a small breath "I just want you to be okay."

"I am." Hannah grasped Grace's hand as it rested on the gear shift, a warmth filling her skin despite both of them being below temperature. "I will be."

The diner was a small one, a long checkered floor complementing an olive painted wall. It reminded Grace of a sports bar, not a place to get a good cup of coffee and some waffles. The smell was almost intoxicating, making Grace's stomach churn even more than before.

She was still worried about Hannah. The girl had to keep their little secret, and she had a feeling that if she ran into her mother or sister than her lips wouldn't stay sealed. Grace wasn't the clingy type, but she would make an exception just this once.  

It was early in the morning, the two of them having driven the night in order to get to the town before the rest of the group. It would be less chaotic for the both of them. Grace wanted to skip the coffee and just head straight to bed, but the moment her lungs filled with the smell of food she knew that Hannah had the right idea.

"Do you remember this place?" Grace asked in a small whisper as she pulled the jacket off of Hannah's shoulders, a few icy flakes of snow moving with it as she held it in her hands, the fabric cold against her skin.

"Yeah," Hannah nodded "I do. My sister was trying to get a job here before I left."

"We could go somewhere else."

"Trust me, Gracie, there is nowhere else in this town. And I'm fine."

The taller blonde eventually nodded, running her hand down Hannah's arm until she felt fingers wrap around hers. There were a few people already in the diner. A tall man in a tan button down sat at the bar, his brown hat tipped as a cigarette balanced between his teeth.  The smoke smell rancid. A brunette woman stood behind the counter, preoccupied with the coffee in her own cup more than anything else.

In one of the booths a woman sat, her mind on a game of solitaire in front of her. What looked like hot chocolate sat in front of her. Whipped cream was piled to the top, the brown liquid rushing past the side of the mug.

"Are you sure I-"

Hannah's lips pressed against Graces quickly, shutting her up faster than the girl had a chance to protest. Grace melted into the kiss, feeling the heat that the younger girl carried "Grace, shut up. Yeah?"

"Yeah," she sighed "Okay."

She kept her hand in Hannah's as she was lead towards the bar, sitting on one of the large plush stools that squeaked with every movement that was made. Hannah sat on the end of the small counter, placing her hands on the sticky surface. There were lament menu's in front of them, ones that Grace couldn't focus on enough to read. She pushed it aside, opting to stare at the pink packets of sugar instead.

"Aren't you hungry?" Hannah chuckled softly, rubbing her thumb against Graces.

"Starving," she glanced up, a smile on her lips "What's good here?"

"Burgers, but it's 8 in the morning. So pancakes." the shorter girl responded simply, looking at the menu again as the woman who had just finished her own coffee seemed to take interest in them. She looked tired- not ready to start the day with actual conversation, which Grace was more than okay with.

"Welcome to Starlight, what can I get for you two ladies today?" she sounded like she smoked as much as the Sheriff over there did, her voice raspy and bags under her eyes. Grace hadn't caught the name when she walked in and found it ironic that diner with such a new name still looked like it was from the late 70's.

"Ah, two coffees and an order of pancakes." Hannah responded, moving the menu away from her face. She didn't really have to look at it. She would have the same thing every morning with her mom.

The woman looked towards Grace, raising an eyebrow. The blonde just nodded, okay with anything that Hannah wanted to order. She was admittedly tired after the long drive and thought that some caffeine was needed. The waitress grunted in response before taking the menus and walking into the back room. Neither girls cared to know what was behind the door, knowing it most likely didn't meet proper codes.

"You two aren't from around here, are ya?" The man with the large sheriff's hat spoke. His voice was rough and undesirable, something that made Grace's skin tingle and her stomach tighten. Her hand tightened around Hannah's.

"No sir." Grace finally spoke "just passing through."

The man laughed, a sound like sandpaper. He looked up at them, his eyes a deep and ugly grey. "Now that's a blatant lie.." His chuckle had formed into a cough, one probably due to all the cigarettes and drinking. This man was obviously not sober, and hadn't been for awhile.  He dabbed the burning paper into an ash tray, moving his had from his head. His hair was a pitch black, almost a gray towards his scalp. He was sweaty and his shirt was yellowed around his arms.

"excuse me?" Hannah asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You're Hannah Hart." He stood, his shoes making strong sounds against the checkered floor. "I searched for you years after you vanished"

"You have the wrong girl." Grace growled despite herself, feeling Hannah's hand tighten against her knee.

The man stopped in front of them, his scent strong of whisky and aftershave. Grace clenched her jaw and did her best to hold her breath. Everything burned, even as she kept her lungs deprived of oxygen. It made her eyes water and skin crawl.

"And you," He raised a brow at the taller blonde. His hand was quick to grasp the collar of her jacket, but she refused to flinch, refused to show that this stranger had any power over her. "I know for a fact you're behind it all."

#GraceHelbig #MamrieHart #Hannahhart #hartbig #fanfiction

[iapplewriting-blog]

“The Night Shift”

alternate/working title: “Landen in Target”

As told by the Target security staff, who have just closed up for the night and are watching the cameras

Characters: Daniel and Lindsey, two night guards at Target

Setting: one of those stereotypical security rooms covered in screens 

Time: 1:00 a.m. on a Saturday

Author’s note: I’m not too sure if this has a theme at all, or if it means anything, but hey, I wrote it in record time (about an hour for the first draft, which is pretty much what you’re going to read, but I did some minor editing - and I do mean minor). And yet I feel like I spent too much time on it.

“Lindsey?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you seeing this?”

Lindsey, ever the nimble one, kicked the filing cabinet to send her and her swivel chair rolling across the Target security office. It wasn’t a long ride; she only went about seven feet before knocking over the floor fan positioned against the far wall.

As her coworker Daniel moved to right the fallen fan, Lindsey adjusted her glasses and leaned towards the flickering monitor on the desk to see what was going on.

And then she saw it.

“Danny? Is there a…” Lindsey trailed off, thoroughly confused, and continued to stare blankly at the image on the screen.

From where he was plugging the fan back in behind the desk, Daniel replied, “A kid perched on the top shelf of the toy department like Batman? Couldn’t be. Those shelves are crap, nobody can climb them.” He stood the fan back up and headed for the coffee pot. “Especially not someone old enough to sneak into a Target and stay undetected until one in the morning.”

“Must be the lack of sleep playing with me,” Lindsey muttered as she reached for her own coffee mug. “Never worked a night shift before, so this is weird. Mind if I take a nap real quick?” She slid back over to her desk and pulled out a sticky note. Tell manager to consider providing free energy drinks for workers, she scribbled before sticking the pink note to the wall.

“That’s fine, yeah,” Daniel said as he settled back into his chair and cracked open a novel. “I’ll keep watch.”

Lindsey didn’t hear him; she was already out cold.

An hour passed.

“Lindsey, are you awake?” Daniel turned away from his computer and looked at his coworker. No dice. She was fast asleep.

Daniel slid his own chair over and gave her a shake. “Lindsey!” In her sleep, she punched him - hard. He rubbed his shoulder, held her clenched fist in place to avoid getting socked again, and shook her harder.

“What?” she finally grumbled, lifting her head from her makeshift sweatshirt pillow.

“You have to see this,” he said quietly, tugging her chair over to his desk.

“What is it this time? Shelf-sitter’s moved on to the women’s clothing department to try on all the maternity dresses at once?” Lindsey snapped.

“Nope, it’s weirder,” Daniel shot back. “Now, I’m sleep-deprived too, but this one isn’t you hallucinating, I promise.”

Lindsey, now mostly awake, glared at the monitor Daniel had dragged her to.

The kid (teenager? ghost? who could tell at this point? not Lindsey, that’s for sure) was dragging a shopping cart toward the furniture department.

“They call him LB,” Daniel whispered as he dumped more sugar into his coffee.

“Who?”

“I did some research while you were sleeping. Walmart. Kmart. Michael’s. Legend has it that if he gets in your store, he’s bound to do something absolutely ridiculous,” Daniel told Lindsey as he stirred his coffee.

Lindsey snorted. “Who says?”

Daniel pointed at the screen. The boy was now taking his cart, which he’d filled with what appeared to be all the Minion toys they had in stock, and pointing it toward a pyramid of Barbie doll boxes.

“Okay, fine, but this isn’t enough to constitute him being a retail legend. Who else says he’s going to do these things?”

Daniel handed her a cell phone that was dialing. Lindsey put it to her ear and said hello.

“So you wanna hear about LB,” a voice said cryptically from the other end.

“Well… yeah, I guess so,” Lindsey replied, leaning back in her chair.  Out of the corner of her eye, the infiltrator was strapping on a Spiderman mask.

“We were the first to see what he could do,” the voice went. He comes in one day and builds a fort out of toilet paper. We say, well, okay, we’ve seen weirder - this is Walmart, after all. We had a guy in a towel poncho once. Anyway, we don't pay too much attention until a customer complains about the music the guy was playing from inside the fort.

“So we’re at the customer service counter, wondering what we’re s’posed to do, when someone else comes up and yells at us for letting someone set up camp in the middle of an aisle and poke passerby with a pool noodle, and pretty soon the manager’s there freaking out, too. Toilet paper fort with music blaring from it? Yeah, sure, fine, whatever. We’re friggin’ Walmart, not like we care. But pool noodles? That's what set the manager off?. So me and my buddy head on out.”

Lindsey, now totally interested, asked, “Did you catch him?”

The voice on the other end of the line scoffed. “We get there and all that’s left is a couple of beanbag chairs and some stray toilet paper. The next week, one of my friends who works at T.J.Maxx calls me and tells me a weird story about her going to restock some shelves and finding every single dish in the store turned upside down. Later I heard that someone had turned all the mystery novels in the Barnes and Noble around so their spines faced inward, toward the shelf, not to mention moving all of the moon landing books to the fiction section.”

By now Lindsey had put the phone on speaker so she could watch the screen and listen at one time. “So why do they call him LB?”

“No idea. After he went bowling with oil jugs at the auto parts store, someone just called him LB, and it stuck. This one time, he went into the Hobby Lobby and took all of the clocks - no, really, every last one - and…”

LB, if that was his name, was now wearing a bright red jacket over a sparkly black dress and his normal clothes with some funky boots and was clambering into the cart, two mops in hand. Looking determined, he settled in amongst the Minions and adjusted his grip on the mops.

“...so after he hid all of the fake flowers, he went back to the clock hoard and…”

“Hey, uh, Walmart guy? It’s been nice listening to you, but I kinda have to go now, thanks, bye,” Lindsey quickly said before hanging up and passing the phone back to Daniel. Both security guards were focused solely on the screen now, watching as LB struggled with the huge mops and started to propel himself toward the stack of dolls.

Abruptly Daniel shot out of his seat, muttered something about “can’t lose this job over a kid in a dress running amok”, and sprinted out of the office. Lindsey, dimly realizing that maybe she should do something, rose to follow him.

“Hey?” she whisper-shouted as she jogged after Daniel. “Maybe we should take a stealth approach?” Daniel shook his head and took off toward the boy, who seemed to be getting comfortable with building up speed using two mops and a cart full of Minions.

“THIS IS TARGET SECURITY, WE DEMAND THAT YOU STOP!” Daniel yelled toward LB. Lindsey, now more confused than ever, said nothing.

But it was too late. Sequined dress fluttering in the wind, he zoomed toward the stack of dolls at a speed too fast for him to possibly control with his mops. LB tried anyway; he slammed the mops down, which only turned the cart sideways before he crashed into the dolls.

When the Minions stopped flying through the air, he was gone.

The next day, Lindsey asked her friend Brooke (who worked in the clothes section) if they sold any sequined black dresses, red jackets, or floral boots. Brooke checked the inventory and said no, they didn’t, but that such an ensemble would probably look really good. Lindsey thanked her, satisfied that no clothing  had been stolen on her watch, and immediately quit her job. She soon found work at the neighboring Chick-Fil-A… a job she quit two months later when a fellow cashier told her he’d seen a kid in a fake beard walk in during the lunch rush, dump all of the mayonnaise packets into a Halloween candy pail, and then stand on an empty table for ten minutes counting heads before giving every customer exactly 22.7 of the packets. (Thankfully, someone managed to escort him away from the drive-through window before he started handing customers little chicken-shaped erasers.)

Daniel stayed at Target, but only after he convinced his boss to hire a full team of patrol men to watch the store with him at night. After what was later dubbed “The Dorm Furniture Disaster”, involving thirty teddy bears, seven radio alarm clocks that had been set to the salsa station, and a broken XBox, all of the patrol men quit and Daniel got switched to the electronics department.

#iapplewriting #short story