#Branded Company Notepads

[brandedpads]

Order Pads in the Modern Workplace: A Tool for Enhanced Productivity

Maintaining organization and efficiency is critical in today's fast-paced, dynamic work situations. As businesses strive to streamline their operations and improve customer service, the use of order pads has emerged as a valuable tool for enhancing productivity. From taking customer orders to jotting down important notes and reminders, order pads offer a simple yet effective solution for keeping tasks on track and information organized.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic Idea: Marriage trap the Office supplier!

Danny had developed an appreciation for office supplies. He didn't know where it came from; just that one day, as he was cleaning his parents' office, he noticed their invoices and Order forms were out of order, so he chose to organize the binders.

It was just to make things easier to find the information when Tax season came around, but he found a strange joy in locating the correct stamps to mark each form.

Approved with a little thumbs up.

E-mailed with a flying envelope.

Entered with a little arrow.

Scanned with a picture of a scanning machine. Completed with a little check mark. Even the Cancelled and its accompanying x-out circle made him feel giggly.

Before long, Danny went hunting from some dividers and was excited to assign colors to certain tasks. He even made sure to separate everything by the order in which it was completed. By the time he was done, he realized he had no more use for his stamps, so he chose to go about the rest of the office.

He did not sleep that night. The next morning, the Fentons woke to their office lab in its best state since they had moved in. Everything had a place, and everything was neat and tidy with Danny happily explaining his organization system- all written down and marked on colorful legal pads he found shoved in a box.

Since then, Danny would excitably talk about the newest pen, sticky note, paperclips, or paper clamps he had found. Often, they were in strange shapes- "Look, Dad, these are sticky notes shaped like toast inside a Toaster holder!"- and no one could tell why it bought him such joy.

Even desk organizers excited him, often seen changing up his things every once in a while with new highlighters or traveling pens. His two best friends were often spotted walking behind Danny at any store within a fifty-mile radius of Amity Park that sold office supplies.

But that meant no one was surprised when Danny eagerly announced he would work in an office until he had enough money to open his own stationery store. What was surprising was that Danny somehow managed to find a job at Wayne Enterprise right out of high school as an office admin assistant.

A high-ranked one. He was the right-hand man to Bruce Wayne himself, working as a personal assistant then anyhting else.

It was clear across state lines no one knows how Danny even managed to land an interview since Mr. Wayne asked for at least a bachelor in office management to even apply or that Danny seemed unworried about living in a crime-infested city working for the man that was target a lot due to his wealth.

Danny only talked about all the superb brands of pens and notepads he would get with his new salary.

What was more shocking was how efficant Danny was at his job. He breezed through his work like a pro, getting Mr. Wayne on time every time (no one knows how) and cheerfully gaining the approval of the board.

Danny often stepped in for Mr. Wayne, Mr. Wayne-Drake or Mr. Fox, quietly becoming known as "Third-in-Comand" at WE despite the fact everyone knew him as "just the admin assistant"

He was also known for being very excited to show his desk to the office, covered in cute or interesting supplies from around the world. He spent hours schooling through websites and making wishlists of things he wanted to buy and try out.

Danny Fenton was a gift among the staff. He ran the office like a smoothly oiled machine, employing new systems and communication means that errors rarely happened in different departments.

WE genuinely feared the day he would leave the company to open that store. They tried to bride him by offering to pay his entire college career and make him a head of any department he wanted, or even officially give him Mr. Wayne's PA position but Danny insisted he wanted to open his store someday.

A plan was hatched by a low-level intern who had personally seen Danny take minutes with an invisible-ink pen and black light at his interview, only to witness the man fight for his right to have a paid internship and full benefits.

He mentioned how convient it was that Danny was close to every member of the Waynes. Yes. Bruce Wayne made it clear he would not be adopting the boy seeing as he was too old for that but what if....they ensured Danny stayed with WE if they made it the family bussiness?

Danny could still be a Wayne. They just had to get him to marry into the family, and WE could keep the embodiment of an office employee forever.

His idea spread through the company like wild fire, and not long, every single person who's checks were signed by Bruce Wayne was gunning for a chance to give Danny and a Wayne a wedding.

(Unknown to them, Danny is the hero Phantom, who, upon learning Batman's ID, instantly asked to work for him in an office setting because he wanted to open a stationery shop one day. Feeling blackmailed, Bruce allowed it, thinking he would catch Danny lacking, only to....find out the kid genuinely loved his job? And was good at it?

His kids are close to him as fellow vigilantes and are unaware of the WE employee's goal.

Danny just really likes Office Supplies. It might have something to do with his Ghost Obsession changing, or it's a Specail interest. He doesn't really care for the reason)

[pedrospatch]

a safe haven l one

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: After the events in Salt Lake City, Joel and Ellie are back in Jackson, Wyoming to start a brand new life in the safe haven; Ellie has a difficult time fitting in and adjusting in the community, but she finds a friend in you; Joel meets you for the very first time and strange new feelings instantly take root.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. AGE GAP (no specific age is mentioned, but reader’s in her late 20s/early 30s and Joel is 56). reader is basically an OFC but story is written in reader format and her physical descriptions are kept as vague as possible. i have my own face claim for her, but i will only ever share it under cuts and with disclaimers. reader is married, Ellie plays a very important role in the series, hints at her strained relationship with Joel but this will indeed be a fix it fic because he deserves it, okay?

word count: 8.1k

Jackson, Wyoming | June, 2024

Joel’s deep, dark brown eyes linger on you from across the town mess hall with sheer, almost unabashed curiosity. Then again, he doesn’t even realize that he’s staring.

It’s about half past twelve, the designated lunch break hour in Jackson, and the larger scale eatery, which for the last couple of years has been run by an older man named Seth and his two surviving adult sons, is alive and well, buzzing loudly with obnoxious, overlapping chatter.

The hall is almost over maximum capacity, packed to the brim with several members of the steadily growing community who had stopped in for a quick bite to eat before having to resume their daily work duties around the settlement. Or at least, a majority of them had, anyway. Others shamelessly try to milk their lunch hour for all that it’s worth and more, dragging it out and extending their allotted free time for as long as they possibly can before having to return to their scheduled tasks around the commune. They float about the place, socializing as if the mess hall had suddenly turned into The Tipsy Bison, the bar right across the road that’s also owned by Seth.

Somehow, by a stroke of sheer good luck, you’d managed to find yourself a smaller, unoccupied table nestled against the wall, away from all the hustle and bustle. It’s tucked away over in the furthest corner of Jackson’s busy and bustling makeshift canteen, near where the aluminum double doors that lead back to the kitchens are propped wide open for the mess hall staff who were coming in and out to replenish the dishes at the buffet. 

You’re sitting at the table alone, your plastic lunch tray surrounded by an absurd amount of open books that Joel had very little choice but to assume came from the town’s modest, but decent sized library that he’d seen nestled between the schoolhouse and the old church, right behind Main Street. In between delicate bites of oven baked chicken and roasted vegetables harvested fresh from the gardens, you reach up and take the blunt, worn yellow pencil that’s tucked in the space behind your ear, using it to scribble on the notepad in your lap before putting the pencil back in its designated place. Although you’re clearly working through your lunch break today, that doesn’t stop you from being interrupted on several different occasions by numerous individuals—friends and familiar faces all approach you with hopeful expressions, eager to join you and keep you company. 

Sure, the hall is full, but there’s still a number of available seats still left at other partially occupied tables nearby, bigger tables that aren’t crowded with books like yours, tables whose occupants aren’t busy working, studying—doing whatever it is that you’re doing. It becomes apparent to Joel that you’re something of a hot commodity around here. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but there’s just something about you that reminds him of the sweet and popular small town girl his favorite country artists would sing about back in the day. The kind of girl with a magnetic presence and irresistible charm—the kind of girl that anyone can fall head over heels in love with in one way or another. 

There’s something almost too endearing about the gracious way you offer up just the most saccharine smile and apologetic doe eyes as you point to your books, politely declining every offer for companionship that comes your way, saying something he can imagine to be along the lines of, not today or maybe another time. Eventually, after a while, you’re finally left alone to bury yourself back into whatever it is that’s keeping you occupied that you can’t even have your midday meal in peace—you’re so engrossed in the task that you don’t even notice the older, salt and pepper haired newcomer who’s been blatantly staring at you from his table over on the opposite of the hall for the last several minutes. 

It’s not the first time Joel’s seen you around.

He still vividly remembers the moment when he’d first laid eyes on you several months ago during the winter season. 

It had been the morning after his fight with Ellie, after she’d confronted him and he had been forced to fess up about his plans to hand her off to his younger brother, Tommy—he’d asked him, pleaded with him, to get her to the Fireflies in Colorado. Joel’s mind had been in an all out raging war, his heart torn between doing what he’d felt was best for Ellie and what he truly wanted, which was to remain by her side and get her to where she needed to be himself. But how the fuck could he do that when all he’d managed to do in the few months prior to their arrival in Wyoming was fail to protect her over and over again? Sure, Ellie was a teenager, now closer to being an adult than anything else, but she was still a child, one who needed to be protected, kept safe. She needed somebody who could get to where she needed to be in one piece, and Joel had come to the conclusion that, as much as he wanted to be that person, he simply wasn’t capable. Slower, older, his hearing getting worse and worse as the days go by, he feared he’d only end up getting her killed if she continued on with him, a scenario he fucking refused to let happen at all costs. He wouldn’t hold another child’s dead body in his arms, not again.

Following a very long and sleepless night of tossing and turning, Joel had pulled himself out of bed just after sunrise that morning. After getting dressed, he’d quietly slipped out of the house and made his way down to the horse stables, hoping he could leave the commune as soon as possible and without notice from Tommy—and especially without notice from Ellie. It’s not that he had wanted to leave without saying goodbye to her, but Joel knew he wouldn’t have it in him to follow through with the decision he’d made about parting ways with her if he saw her face again, not a fucking chance. And so there he’d been, in one of the stalls at the stables, saddling up the horse he planned to steal and take off on when you’d walked by, flashing him a warm and friendly smile, probably assuming he was just another patrolman getting ready to head out for the morning shift. 

Joel had just stared at you, lips pressed together into a tight, thin line with an emotionless expression on his hard, stony face.

Of course, you were nothing more than a complete stranger who didn’t have the slightest clue as to what was going through his mind. You couldn’t have possibly imagined what was happening to the tortured older man you’d just encountered, the way his inner turmoil was a single thought away from tearing him apart from the inside out. You’d probably just thought he was rude for not smiling back, or at the very least, offering you a courteous good morning.

He’d almost forgotten about you since then.

Almost.

It’d been rather difficult for him to forget all about the prettiest goddamn fucking face he’d ever seen since the world ended two decades ago—not even after all of the events that followed that fateful morning.

The next time Joel had seen you was on his second day back in Wyoming. He and Ellie had made a trip down to the produce market on Main Street to pick up some vegetables and jarred preserves to stock up the kitchen pantry of their new, forever home. He’d caught sight of you as you made your way down one of the aisles towards the sweet potato bins with a brown, woven basket hanging from one arm and a reusable shopping bag draped over the other. Before Joel even realized that he’d been staring, your kind gaze met his own from across the market and you smiled at him again.

Still just as warm, still just as friendly. And you were still just as fucking beautiful as he remembered.

Much like that winter morning in the horse stables, Joel didn’t smile back at you. 

Two for fucking two—surely you must have thought he was a mannerless asshole at this point. He honestly wouldn’t blame you if you did. He’d think the same. 

Tommy, who had made it back from leading his morning patrol group just in time to join him for lunch, waves a hand in front of Joel’s face, looking thoroughly amused. “Maybe we should find you a goddamn camera,” he teases, letting out a small chuckle once he’d finally managed to break the older Miller’s trance, garnering his attention. “Y’know, so you can take a picture. It’ll last a hell of a lot longer.”

Joel scowls at his brother, though he says nothing.

He can’t very well deny that he’d been caught openly gawking. 

“Shut up, Tommy,” is all he can come up with before taking a large bite of seasoned carrots, heat flooding his face. The way Tommy’s looking at him, with that mischievous glimmer in his eyes, it reminds Joel of their younger years, when Tommy would make it his mission in life to do anything that would cause him discomfort just for his own kicks. 

“Hey, I don’t really blame you, y’know.” Tommy reaches over for his glass of sweet iced tea and picks it up, taking a long and refreshing sip. Smacking his lips together, he casually shrugs his shoulders, shooting Joel a knowing smirk over the top the glass as he comments, “She’s certainly a sight for sore eyes, ain’t she, big brother?”

“Watch it. Don’t think Maria would appreciate you sayin’ that kinda thing ’bout another woman who ain’t her,” Joel warns, cocking an eyebrow at him. His brother hadn’t always been the most faithful of partners in his first life, but Tommy truly seemed to be head over heels in love with his wife. Hearing him talk about another woman makes Joel wonder if perhaps remnants of his playboy ways still lingered behind even after twenty years. With Maria having just found out she was expecting his child, Joel certainly hopes that isn’t the case. “Eyes to yourself, asshole.”

Tommy shrugs again. “Ain’t no real harm in just takin’ a quick peek every once in a while,” he muses, although there’s a joking edge to his tone. Setting his glass of iced tea back down onto the table in front of him, he leans back into his chair and glances over at you. He lets out a long, low whistle, another smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh trust me, I get it, Joel—hell, every man around here gets it, fuckin’ single or not. She’s a real fuckin’ beauty, she is. But I should probably go ahead and warn you now that it’s best you don’t go gettin’ any ideas when it comes to that one.”

Before Joel can even stop himself, he finds himself asking, “Why’s that?

“Well for starters, that girl’s damn near half your fuckin’ age, you old fucker.”

Joel flips him off.

“Besides that, she’s already spoken for.” 

“She’s got a boyfriend.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“She’s got a husband,” Tommy corrects him. “She’s a married woman, Joel. And here’s the real fuckin’ kicker. She’s married to Jackson’s only doctor.”

Joel snorts, rolling his eyes. “A real doctor? Or just some fuckin’ clueless prick who claims to be a doctor?” he questions, shoving another forkful of his carrots into his mouth.

The younger man laughs at the bitter skepticism, knowing that it’d come from a place of envy more than anything. “Real, Joel. The guy’s around my age, give or take a couple years. He was finishin’ up his medical school residency when the outbreak first happened, at least that’s what Maria says,” he explains. He notices the confusion flash across Joel’s face and continues to elaborate. “Two of them go way back, went to the same college before she transferred out to another school for her law degree. Maria came across him and his group one day while out lookin’ for supplies. She said he still knew his stuff after all these years and decided to bring him in as the community’s physician. He looks after everyone around here. Delivers the babies, stitches up wounds. Hell, I broke my arm in a stupid ridin’ accident last summer and he set the bone right back into place, had me good as new within a few weeks. S’a miracle we’ve got someone like him around here.”

Joel glances down at his plate, twiddling his fork between his thumb and his index finger. He would have been a goddamn dirty liar if he’d said that finding out you were a married woman didn’t bother him. 

And to a fucking hero doctor nonetheless.

That only makes it sting a little harder.

Tommy immediately picks up on his brother’s disappointment in hearing the news about you being taken and softly kicks his shin with the toe of his boot underneath the table. “Y’know Joel, there’s plenty of other single women around here. Pretty ones, and real nice, too,” he informs him with a small smile. He pauses and then offers, “If you’re interested, I could introduce you around. Maria has this friend, her name is Esther and she’s a real cute blonde—”

“That’s the last thing on my fuckin’ mind,” Joel grumbles out in reply. He tightly shakes his head. “I just fuckin’ got here, Tommy. Besides, I’ve got Ellie that I need to take care of. We’re both tryin’ to get used to this place after bein’ out there on the road for so long. We’re still in the middle of gettin’ ourselves settled. The kid’s my priority right now—my only fuckin’ priority. Not meetin’ someone.”

Not wanting to push him too far, Tommy goes along with the subject change. “Speakin’ of Ellie, how’s she been doin’ by the way? Haven’t really seen much of her since you two got back.”

Joel hesitates, momentarily unable to meet Tommy’s eyes.

It’d been a couple of weeks now since the events that took place back in Salt Lake City. 

Since the hospital.

Since the Fireflies.

Joel had certainly thought once or twice about confiding in Tommy about what he had done. How he had ruthlessly and without a single ounce of mercy killed all of those people in the hospital, how he had shot Marlene dead at point blank range—how he had violently and single handedly stopped what had most likely been humanity’s only chance at potentially finding a cure for the cordyceps infection by preventing the Fireflies from operating on Ellie and performing a brain surgery that would have killed her. 

Joel doesn’t regret it, nor does he regret the choice he’d made on Ellie’s behalf.

He would do it all over again in a fucking heartbeat if it came down to it.

He doesn’t carry guilt over having done what he’d done, but he does carry the guilt of having lied to her about it after it was all said and done. He felt awful for looking her in the eye and swearing to her that everything he’d said about the Fireflies was true when it wasn’t. Ellie claimed to believe him, but he knew better than that. She was smart, too fucking smart for her own good. She might not have known the extent of it all, but she knew for certain that Joel wasn’t being entirely forthright about what had gone down in Salt Lake City while she’d been unconscious.

From that moment on the mountain, things had been quite tense between them. That conversation instantly caused a rift in their relationship, but Joel could tell she was doing her very best to force herself to fully believe that he was still a person she could trust, a person she could put her faith in. He took an odd sense of comfort in knowing that her forced efforts to keep believing in him had to have meant something good. 

She didn’t want to give up on him or on their relationship.

Joel exhales a heavy sigh, finally answering the question. “Not too great,” he admits, quietly. “I’m real worried ‘bout her, Tommy. It’s been a couple weeks now since we’ve been back and she still hasn’t made one single goddamn friend around here. She doesn’t fuckin’ talk to anyone, barely even talks to Maria.” He sighs again, tiredly rubbing the side of his face with his free hand. “She spends most of her time hidin’ out in the stables with the horses. She would rather be around them than other people. She can’t live the rest of her life like that. I try to tell her she needs to put in more effort on her part, but she won’t fuckin’ listen to me.”

“Just give her some more time, Joel. After everythin’ that poor kid’s been through in her life, it ain’t a big surprise that she’s strugglin’ a bit to fit in around here, y’know?” Tommy notices the way his older brother’s jaw clenches and he offers him a look of sympathy. “Look, I know Ellie means a whole lot to you and if I were you, I would be real worried ’bout her too. But just give her a little more time to adjust. She’ll get there, I know she fuckin’ will. She’s a real strong kid, big brother.”

“Yeah, I know she is,” Joel murmurs in agreement. “Hell of a lot stronger than someone her age should have to be.”

“She’ll be just fine,” Tommy reassures him. “She’ll find her place here, Joel. Just wait. You’ll see.”

“I sure as hell fuckin’ hope you’re right.”

You relish the feeling of warm sunlight hitting your face.

Summer’s just beginning in Wyoming, and after a particularly long, cold and cruel winter that swept the western state this last year, you couldn’t have been more thrilled to see that warmer weather is well on its way.

At least, for now you’re thrilled.

Winters in Jackson were god awful, but summers could be just as brutal, if not worse.

Clutching the strap of your old, but sturdy brown leather satchel bag securely over your shoulder, you hurriedly make your way across the settlement from the mess hall and back towards the horse stables, the place you commonly referred to as your second home—it wasn’t all that much of a joke, seeing as you often spent more time there than you didn’t. It’s now after lunch hour, and there’s still plenty of work to be done before the end of the day rolls around, most of it which would undoubtedly trickle into the next day.

Being the only veterinarian in the community, there was always more than plenty of work to be done every day. Too much work to be done by one single person alone. Often, you find yourself feeling quite overwhelmed by it all. You feel like you’re completely in over your head, and it leaves you wondering if you’d made the right decision by taking such an enormous responsibility into your hands.

Then again, it’s not like you’d been given much of a choice. In a way, it had been expected of you.

Prior to passing away from illness two summers ago, your father had been the veterinarian who looked after the animals. Even though you hadn’t been trained professionally like he had, your father decided to spend the final years of his life teaching you to the best of his ability and with what little resources he had available. After all, Jackson was going to need someone to step up and take care of the animals when he was gone—particularly the hoses. Even as his physical health worsened, he used every last ounce of strength he had left in him to prepare you to take over for him when he died. Thanks to him and all he’d done for you, you certainly knew a thing or two, but the job was still daunting, even after all this time of being in practice on your own without him there to guide you like before.

Keeping the horses healthy to begin with made your job a hell of a lot easier, but when a horse became sick or injured, that was when your knowledge and your skills were truly put to the test. Horses were how everyone traveled when in search of needed supplies, how patrolmen and women moved around while they were out and about on watch keeping the community safe against the infected and against raiders. Horses were one of the most important, most precious resources the commune possessed. They kept everything going, everyone moving, and you’d be fucking lying if you said that being the sole person in charge of caring for them didn’t put a tremendous amount of pressure on your shoulders.

Sensing your doubt, Maria Miller often assured you that you were the best person for the role—the only person for the role. “The apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree,” she had complimented you over coffee at her place the morning after you had successfully removed a bullet lodged into the shoulder of one of the horses that had been injured while Tommy and his group were out on overnight patrol. They’d stumbled across violent and armed raiders, and luckily everyone had made it out unscathed with the exception of Tommy’s beloved black horse, Ranger. You recalled being pulled out of your bed in the middle of the night to tend to him, the first serious case you had to take care of without your father’s guidance. Thankfully, the stallion’s injury hadn’t been life threatening, and you were able to patch him up within the hour. After just a few weeks of working with Ranger and putting him through physical therapy, the horse made a full recovery and both Maria and Tommy couldn’t have been more thrilled with your work.

Still, you still continued questioning your own abilities, but it didn’t really matter in the end. Both Maria and Tommy decided to assign you as Jackson’s equine veterinarian, pulling you from your previous job, which had been helping Seth make sandwiches at The Tipsy Bison.

You rush into the stables, making a mental list with the names of all the horses that you still need to check over for the day, including the group of horses that had just arrived back from that morning’s patrol. You make your way down to the very last stall which is serving as home to a stunning, chestnut-brown pregnant mare.

“Hi there, Stella,” you coo sweetly, beaming at the beauty. “Hi, my gorgeous girl. How are you doing today, sweetie pie?”

“I would be doing a hell of a lot better if I could have one of those apples in your bag,” a voice answers, startling you slightly.

Peering around Stella’s body, you catch sight of Ellie laying down on a small bed of hay in the furthest corner of the stall. She’d made something of a pillow out of her backpack, kicking back as she flips through her favorite superhero comic book for what had to be the hundredth time. She offers you a silly, lopsided grin the minute she takes a glimpse at the baffled look on your face. “Howdy.”

“Ellie,” you sigh her name softly. “What in the world are you doing in here?”

“Living my best life,” she deadpans. “What else does it look like I’m doing?”

You try but mostly fail, in hiding your laughter at her quick witted sense of humor. “Ellie,” you say her name again. “You can’t just hide out in here with the horses every single day, you know,” you point out, dropping your heavy satchel bag onto the ground. Stella lowers her head and gives it a sniff, no doubt smelling those apples you always carried around with you.

“Wanna bet?” The teenager quips with a small joking smirk as she sits up, tossing her comic book to the side. Bits of hay stick out of her brown hair, which she always keeps tied back in a messy ponytail.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school with the other kids?”

She rolls her eyes. “I already went to school. Back in the Boston QZ. FEDRA’s finest, dude.”

You don’t know all that much about Ellie Williams—nor about the brooding older man that she’s here with, Joel Miller. The only thing you do know is that Joel happened to be Tommy Miller’s older brother and he acted as Ellie’s guardian. Initially, you’d thought he was her father, but Maria had told you that he had no familial relation to the girl, a fact that took you by complete surprise.

Their arrival in Jackson back during the winter season had the entire town talking—but by the following morning, the pair were gone, not to be seen again for several months until their return towards the end of spring just a couple of weeks ago. Rumors flew once the word of their return had gone around, but in reality, no one had the slightest clue about where they had gone or why they had left the safety of the commune’s walls in the first place. Not even Maria, who had failed in getting her husband to talk. She swore up and down Tommy knew something she didn’t, but he refused to spill his brother’s secrets, even to his own wife.

Like everyone else in the tight knit community, you were curious about Ellie, and you were especially curious about Joel. You’d seen him around a couple of times before, but hadn’t had the chance to meet him yet. Still, even without having spoken a single word to him, you already knew he wasn’t anything like Tommy, or anyone else you’ve ever encountered, really. A man of very few words, he kept to himself, just like Ellie did. Still, Joel knew he needed to find his place and pull his weight in Jackson just like everyone else, and once he began working patrol alongside Tommy, he finally began engaging with other members of the town. 

Reluctantly so, but at the very least, he was trying.

Ellie, on the other hand, avoided everybody at all costs. Everybody, that is, except for you.

Since their arrival, Ellie chose to spend her days in the stables. She’d hang out with the horses while reading her comic books or listening to tapes on some old Walkman she had permanently borrowed from Tommy. Despite a hectic schedule that kept you busy, you eventually started taking the time out of your day to talk to her. It had started off with light chatter about the most trivial of things—how the day was going, whether or not the weather was nice outside, what had been served for lunch in the mess hall that afternoon. Ellie seemed almost annoyed with you at first, but after a couple of days, she’d quickly started warming up to you and by the end of the first week, she had started following you around the stables, joining you wherever you needed to be. The girl had taken a liking to you, but she was still quite guarded and careful, as if she were still testing the waters, figuring out whether or not you could be trusted.

You don’t mind that, though.

Little by little, simply by being kind to her and making the genuine effort to get to know her, you’re slowly beginning to chip away at her layers. There was still quite a long way to go if you ever wanted the teenager to completely open up to you, but you didn’t mind that either.

You’d be as patient with her as you needed to be.

You walk over to her. “Listen Ellie, as much as I really enjoy having you around me all the time, you really do need to make friends, you know.”

She blinks. “But you’re my friend.”

Even as you rephrase yourself, you can’t help but smile. “Friends your own age,” you remark, tucking the loose lock of your hair that had fallen loose from your dutch braid behind your ear. “You know, my husband, he has a niece named Dina. She’s about your age. I could introduce you to each other if you'd like?”

Ellie furiously shakes her head. “No.”

“Ellie—”

“Everyone around here looks at me like I’ve got two fucking heads or something. She probably fucking will too,” she mumbles. She pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. “I’d have an easier time fitting in around here if I was a fucking clicker.”

Chuckling, you gently shake your head at her.

By now, you’d pretty much gotten used to her rich and colorful vocabulary.

You crouch down in front of her. “Look Ellie, I know how hard it is not to fit in with others.”

“You?” Ellie blows a loud raspberry in complete disbelief. “No fucking way. I don’t believe that for one fucking second, sweet cheeks.”

“Hey, in case you didn’t know this, I haven’t always been this age,” you remind her, lightly swatting at the side of her knee with your hand. “I was fifteen once too.”

“Yeah, and you were probably little miss fucking perfect, just like you are now.” She rolls her brown eyes at you in a teasing manner. “I bet everyone just loved you.”

You swat at her knee again. “Oh, stop that. That couldn’t be any further from the truth,” you reply, wondering where this child had come up with the idea that you are, or had ever been perfect. “I was still living in one of the quarantine zones with my family when I was your age, Ellie. We were living in the Alburquerque QZ for quite a while before it got overrun by the infected. They had schools and everything, just like in Boston. My mother was a nurse, so she had the privilege of enrolling me in one of their better schools, a preparatory school—she had the hope that I’d become an officer so I could have a chance at a decent life.” You pause, noticing a strange glimmer flash in the girl’s eyes, but when she says nothing, you continue on, “So I got the absolute pleasure of going to school with a bunch of kids whose parents were officers and important higher ups in the zone. And let me tell you something, the world may have gone to complete shit, but teenagers can still be fucking assholes.”

Ellie throws her head back and laughs loudly. “Whoa! I never thought I’d hear you curse. I thought you were too fucking prim and proper for that.”

“I’m not all that prim and proper,” you counter, grinning at the way she continues to cackle. “Besides, spending all this time with you might just have me cursing like a fucking sailor by the end of the week.”

“Fuck yeah it will,” she agrees with a nod. 

You grin again, but when your eyes meet Ellie’s, it falters slightly.

Ellie hadn’t told you much of anything about her past, but one thing was for certain—the young girl had been through hell and back. You could see it written all over her face, even when she smiled and even when she laughed. The traces of terror, pain, and trauma were quite subtle, but they were very much present and in recent nights, you’d find yourself lying in bed, wide awake and wondering what all this poor child had gone through in her life. Thoughts about what Ellie had seen, what and who she had lost in this world haunted you.

She’s different. 

What she’d been through made her different.

It set her apart from the other children, especially those who don’t know what it’s like to live a life outside these four walls.

It pained you to know that she felt ostracized when you were willing to bet your life that whatever had happened to her, it hadn’t been her fault.

Ellie Williams wasn’t your responsibility—you hardly know her. But you already care about her. An inexplicable soft spot for her had found its way into your heart from your very first interaction with her. If there’s anything you can do to help her ease into this new way of life, you’ll gladly do so without hesitation.  

“So then,” Ellie finally says after a minute, looking up at you. “Is it, uh, is it alright if I keep coming to the stables to spend time with you and the horses?”

“Of course.” You rise to your feet and glance at Stella. “But only on one condition. You have to help me out with the grooming. I’ve been really short handed lately and could use the extra help. Deal?”

She jumps up to her feet, eagerly nodding her head. “Deal.”

Joel dumps his plastic tray and used dishware into the designated dirty dish bin before shoving his way through the doors of the mess hall. The air outside is still relatively cool, it’s crisp and fresh—but the temperatures are sure to get a hell of a lot warmer now that summer has officially arrived. Not that he minded.

He keeps his sights set straight ahead of him, doing his best to avoid eye contact with anyone who so much as even throws a glimpse in his direction.

People seem to be getting to him, but oftentimes, he still feels like a pariah. It’s almost like he’s some fucking feral stray cat that Jackson had adopted and taken into it’s home, willing to tame him, but still afraid that he could start tearing shit up at any given moment if they didn’t keep a close enough eye on him. He could handle that, though. It’s his Ellie he’s worried about. Between the survivor’s guilt she’d been dealing with on a daily basis and the way she was looked at in the community by everyone, Joel feared for her well being. He could only hope that Tommy was right about her just needing time and that eventually, she’ll find her place and he’ll have the chance to give her the most normal life possible under the circumstances. 

It’s the very least Joel could do for her after all she’d been through in the last year—after what he’d done, how he had lied straight to her face. He fucking owed her that much.

Ellie deserved happiness, and he would do just about anything in his power to give it to her.

Joel arrives at the horse stables and makes his way inside. “Ellie?” He calls out her name. “Ellie? You in here?”

That’s when he hears her voice. 

“Wait, what? Stella’s pregnant? I didn’t fucking know that!”

Rounding the corner into the very last stall, Joel sees Ellie standing there, her tiny little hand on the muzzle of a brown horse. In her opposite hand, she’s holding a mane brush. She isn’t alone.

He’s surprised to see you standing there beside her, your hands planted on your hips. You’re wearing a pair of well worn light wash blue jeans, the legs tucked into a pair of weathered black riding boots whose soles are completely caked with muck. Joel remembers you wearing an oversized, long sleeved red flannel shirt back in the mess hall, but it’s now off and tied around your waist, leaving you in a thin, cotton white tank top—the material fits snug on your frame, and Joel tries his hardest not to stare at the patch of bare skin that peeks between the hem of your shirt and the waistband of your jeans.

Christ.

You’re even more beautiful up close.

Fuckin’ get a grip, Miller, he thinks silently to himself.

“She sure is,” you reply to her question with a wide grin. “We just found out about a week ago and believe she’s about a few weeks along. We’ll have a sweet new baby in a year.”

“What? No fucking way!” Ellie exclaims, looking thoroughly excited, but bewildered by the fact. “Horses are pregnant for a whole year? Holy shit man, that’s fucking nuts!”

“Well, for eleven months,” you clarify for her, giving Stella a gentle, but firm pat on her muscular neck. “This is Stella’s first one. We’re hoping for a smooth pregnancy that reaches full term, but sometimes babies decide to come a bit sooner than expected.”

Curiously, Joel’s lips part and his eyes widen slightly.

He can’t fucking believe it.

Ellie hadn’t spoken a single word to anyone in two weeks and yet here she is, engaging with you so easily and so effortlessly, cracking the first genuine smile he’d seen since they had fed that giraffe back in Salt Lake City. More than that, Ellie is being herself, cursing up a storm and all, and you don’t seem the slightest bit bothered by it, not like the other adults whose jaws would drop in utter horror at her use of such foul language.

Joel wills himself to move and steps inside of the stall. He lightly clears his throat. “Ellie.”

You and Ellie both turn around, glancing in his direction.

“Joel? What are you doing here?” she asks, her smile fading slightly.

“Lookin’ for you. It’s lunchtime. Y’need to go eat somethin’ kiddo.”

She holds up the brush in her hand. “But we were just about to—”

He stops her with a stern glare. “Lunch. Now. Go.”

“Fine,” Ellie huffs and rolls her eyes at him. Picking up her red and tan backpack from the ground, she hands you the mane brush and stomps out of the stall, roughly shoving into Joel’s shoulder as she pushes past him without another word.

Joel glances at you, a sudden wave of awkwardness washing over him. Just as he’s about to politely excuse himself and leave, you speak.

“You’re Tommy’s older brother, right? Joel?”

He nods. “Yeah. I am.”

Stepping away from Stella, you walk over to Joel and introduce yourself, extending a hand for him to shake.

Your name is as beautiful as you are and it sounds heavenly when he repeats it, rolling smoothly off his tongue. He takes your hand in his own and the contrast between the two is stark. Your hand is soft against his rough, small compared to his large, but somehow still an all too perfect fit.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Joel.” Your eyes find his, meeting them in a way that makes something inside of him that had been sleeping for decades now stir itself awake—it’s a feeling that’s too foreign for him to pinpoint. 

Realizing he’s been holding onto your hand longer than necessary, he drops it and takes a step back, lightly bumping his back against the stall door. “I’m—uh, I’m real sorry ‘bout Ellie,” Joel apologizes to you after a minute. “I know she’s been spendin’ a lot of time in here. I hope she hasn’t been botherin’ you or gettin’ in the way of things. If she is, I’ll have a talk with her.”

“No, no. Of course not. She hasn’t been bothering me at all,” you quickly assure him without missing a beat. “I’m usually in here alone, so it’s actually been really nice having her around. I enjoy her company a lot.”

“You do?”

You toss him a puzzled, but amused look. “Is that so strange?”

Joel places his hands on his hips and leans back against the stall door. “Ellie’s been havin’ a little trouble,” he confesses. “Adjustin’ to life here and meetin’ people. She, uh—she ain’t like all the other kids around here, y’know?”

“I know.”

His eyebrows raise to his hairline—exactly how well had you and Ellie gotten to know each other already? What all had she told you? What did you know about her?

What did you know about him?

Joel tries to mask the concern on his face.

“I was just talking to her a little while ago. I told her I know how hard it is being a teenager and trying to fit it in with the crowd, even in a world like this one.” You let out a humorless laugh and shake your head, the ridiculousness of what you’d just said sounding sillier out loud than it had in your mind. “It’s even harder when you’re just so different.” You detect the way that your statement triggers something of a negative response from Joel—the way his eyes darken in a flash of anger and his nostrils flare slightly tell you he doesn’t take all too kindly to anyone talking negatively about his kid. Ellie being different is something that he already knows, of course, but hearing it from someone else isn’t easy for him, and it certainly isn’t welcome. It puts him right into protective mode and you don’t blame him, not in the slightest. You hold your hands up and reassure him, “There’s nothing wrong with being different, by the way.”

Joel sees the sincerity in your eyes that go hand in hand with your words and his defenses switch off almost as quickly as they’d switched on. “There isn’t,” he agrees with a careful nod of his head. “Nothin’ wrong with it at all.” He clears his throat. “M’sorry, I didn’t mean to—it’s just that I don’t really like it when people start runnin’ their mouths ‘bout my kid, that’s all.”

Waving a hand, you assure him, “No need to apologize at all, Joel.”

Little by little, he starts relaxing. Taut and tense muscles that have been wound up for years and years are suddenly beginning to loosen. All it’s taking is being in your presence and talking to you. Joel suddenly understands why Ellie’s taken such a quick liking to you. 

You’re unlike anyone that either of them had ever met before. You’re bright and you bring about this warmth—a different kind of warmth Joel hadn’t felt in so fucking long. It feels like seeing the sun for the very first time after spending years and years trapped in a cold, cold darkness.

He glances around the stall. “So, uh—what’s the deal? You one of the stable hands around here or somethin’ like that?”

“Something like that,” you repeat after him, a tiny grin tugging at the corners of your mouth at the way he speaks with a heavy, but still incredibly charming Southern drawl. “I’m the veterinarian here in Jackson.”

He chuckles. “Y’mean, those still exist?”

“Sort of. My father used to be the veterinarian here,” you explain to him. “That was what he did for a living before the outbreak happened. We lived in New Mexico on a horse ranch when I was growing up—he started off as a stable hand and then he went back to school to become an equine veterinarian. When we got here a few years ago from one of the quarantine zones, he told Maria what he had done for a living before this and he was asked to care for the horses in exchange for our place here.”

“And you?” Joel can’t help but wonder out loud. You seem quite young, can’t be older than your late twenties or early thirties at most, which would still have made you a child when the outbreak happened. “No offense darlin’ but you seem a little bit too young to have gone to vet school before shit hit the fan.”

Darlin’.

He doesn’t mean to call you that. But it’s too late—and you don’t appear bothered by it.

Instead, you laugh, and the sound is like a gorgeous melody he could listen to on repeat for the rest of his life if given the chance. “No, I definitely did not go to veterinary school. Actually, my dad taught me everything I know.” You speak fondly of him as you continue to say, “He educated me. Well, as best as he could considering the circumstances and all. He gave me a ton of books that I could read and study from, but most of it was hands-on training. He tried to teach me all that he could before he died a couple of years ago.”

Joel frowns. “Oh. Sorry to hear ‘bout your dad.”

“It’s alright. You don’t have to be sorry.”

He peers at you, wondering what had happened to him. 

“He died of illness,” you tell him, as if having read his mind. “Cancer, we think it was, but we obviously can’t know for sure without proper testing. And before you say it again, you don’t have to be sorry.” You cross your arms over your chest, tilting your head at him as you change the subject and ask, “So, how are you settling in?”

“S’been alright, I reckon. Real different from what I’m used to—from what we’re both used to,” Joel answers, referring to Ellie.

“I can imagine it is. It took me a while to get used to this place when I first got here too. It’s such a different way of life, especially when you lived under FEDRA control for so long,” you empathize with him, sighing as you drop your arms back down at your sides. “You stay just a couple of houses down from Tommy and Maria, right?”

“Yeah, we’re two doors down in the brown and greenish lookin’ unit.”

“I’m in the light blue and white cottage right across from them,” you inform him, your pretty eyes twinkling as you give him a smile. “I guess that kind of makes us neighbors, doesn’t it?”

Joel’s stomach somersaults.

If you didn’t stop smiling at him like that, there was going to be a problem.

“It does,” he manages to say. Remembering Tommy’s warning from earlier, he decides it would be best for him to leave—and the quicker, the better because he’s beginning to notice how fucking easy it is to fall under your spell. He pushes himself away from the stall door. “I should probably get goin’ now. Got evenin’ patrol,” he says. “Listen, uh, I really appreciate you spendin’ time with Ellie and bein’ so kind to her. Thank you for that.” He gives you a small grateful nod and turns on the heel of his boot to leave the stall.

“Joel?”

He stops dead in his tracks, his back stiffening slightly.

The sound of your soft voice saying his name is sweet like pure, raw honey.

If he isn’t careful, he’ll become addicted to it—he fears he already is.

Swallowing harshly, Joel turns back around to face you. “Yeah?”

“We’re having this big get together tomorrow night in the barn that’s right across the way,” you say, jabbing a thumb over your shoulder. Through the small round window in the stall, he can see the very barn you’re talking about. “We do it every single year on the first day of summer. We do it for the kids more than anything, but everyone comes out.” There’s a subtle hint of shyness to your tone. “I’m not sure if Tommy or Maria have mentioned it to you yet, but there’s going to be a big barbecue, drinks, and even dancing. The whole nine yards.”

Joel has to bite back a small scoff of disbelief. “You serious?”

“Hey, the world might have ended, but people still know how to get down and party,” you joke. You observe the genuinely perplexed look that crosses his face and giggle. “I know it must sound really bizarre. But it’s a lot of fun and it’s a great way to really get to know the folks around here. I think it would be great if you and Ellie both came.”

“Ain’t too sure if it’d be Ellie’s thing. Or mine,” he admits, raking a hand nervously through his hair at the thought.

“You won’t know unless you give it a shot, Joel.” You gift him with another brilliant smile that just about makes his heart stop inside his chest. “Please?”

Joel hardly knows you.

Hell, up until five minutes ago, he hadn’t even known your fucking name—how is it possible that he can’t say no to you? A complete fucking stranger?

He thinks about it. He doesn’t like the idea of having to interact with anyone outside of his patrol duties, but if going to the damn thing means seeing you again, then he’s willing to at the very least give it a shot. 

“Maybe we’ll both stop by for a bit and check it out,” he finally replies, exhaling a sigh of defeat.

“Great!” You beam happily. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, then!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Joel repeats, giving you one last nod before turning and leaving the stall.

As he leaves the stables and heads home, he can’t help the way the corners of his mouth threaten to turn upwards at the mere thought of seeing you tomorrow night. 

Shit.

Yeah, he’s in fucking trouble. 

[grahamkennedy]

Help my friend Faten!!!! ❤️

My dad, retired now, was a general practitioner. Growing up, we never needed to buy stationary for school because pharmaceutical companies would come into his clinic and give all the doctors and nurses pens and notepads to take home. All of my school stationery was branded with Abilify or Vicodin or the like.

My first job out of school was an office role at a medical clinic, and when pharmaceutical representatives came in, some of the nicest people you'd ever meet, they'd leave behind extra sandwiches or cakes or whatever food they used to enticed doctors and nurses to meetings, for us in administration and reception.

Before the war, @fatenfamilygaza was doing exactly this for her own work. Travelling around as a medical representative. Her story reminds me of some the sweetest, gentlest moments of my own life!

If you have anything to spare, I'd love you to share this with my friend Faten.

She is trying to support her family, see her fiance again, and get her younger sister Dima to Egypt. Please donate whatever you can!!!

Vetted (#289) || GFM

57,513NOK/105,000NOK (short term goal!!!)

reminder of conversion rates: $5 USD = kr54 NOK $10 USD = kr109 NOK $25 USD = kr273 NOK $50 USD = kr545 NOK $100 USD = kr1,090 NOK

Tagging for reach!!!

@wellwaterhysteria @danlous @eastgaysian @paper-mario-wiki @a-shade-of-blue @stuckinapril @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @ana-bananya @imjustheretotrytohelp @dlxxv-vetted-donations @roadimusprime

[myheadhurtscutely]

Star Stationary - Modern!Anakin Skywalker x Reader - Chp. 1

C ` Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Summary ` It's your first day working as a receptionist at Star Stationary company, and your quickly forming relationships with your new coworkers. but one in particular has caught your eye.

!Warnings! CUTE AND FLUFFY, but be warned. Angst to come.

wc ` 3.6k

notes ! this is closely based on characters, Jim and Pam, from a tv show, The Office. f/s - favorite soda.

Ding! The elevator finally chimed, indicating your arrival at your new employer. 'Finally!' You thought to yourself, arms crowded with your personal belongings, readily available to decorate your new desk. You were the only person who applied for the boring office job as a receptionist. It was average pay, at a failing company so you figured, it would be okay just for a while. Much to your dismay, as the elevator doors slid open, it revealed the cheap cafe a couple floors below the office. A young man stood outside of the double doors. Tall, dirty blonde, glasses, and absolutely beautiful. If your arms weren't shaking earlier, they definitely were now, along with your knees.

He shyly scooted into the elevator, as if it was full, leaving about an inch or two of space between the both of you. The elevator ride was near silent. Small shuffles and the faint drumming of whatever song was blaring in his headphones was the only white noise to accompany the deafening silence. You peered over at him a couple times through your peripherals, and at some point, you swore you saw him take a glance.

The elevator was coming to a stop, the poor old thing jerked as it completed its job, causing you to stumble out of your carefully modified stance made to accommodate the weight in your arms, and drop several nicknacks and papers. How embarrassing. Thankfully, the blonde boy dropped to his knee to retrieve your items, as you profusely apologize for causing a mess. The elevator doors pry open with a screech revealing the carpeted floors and yellow tinted cream walls of the office space. He picks up one last decoration from your collection and holds it up in front of his blue eyes, inspecting with a slight smirk.

"You like Star Wars?" He cocked his eyebrow, meeting your eyes, as the both of you step out of the elevator before it closes. The office was lit with a white light, flickering ever so slightly overhead. Fake potted plants stood at entrances. Desk cluttered on top and around each nook and cranny.

"Um," You hesitate. Was it stupid to be into that kind of thing nowadays? "Yeah. It's one of my favorites." you say hurriedly. He dangles the Yoda charm a moment longer before placing it in an empty coffee mug you were holding onto for dear life with your pinky.

"Me too." He flashes a quick smile and asks if you need help, which you decline. He carries on, walking to a door near the backside of the space. You set your stuff down with a thud on your new desk. A bigger than usual semi-circle, right near the entrance, with accompanying desk to the right of it. You pull out your pens, highlighters, notepads, stickers, everything you brought to personalize your space. Taking your time, even color coding the order of your pens, you wait. What was there to do? What was your task. The phone rang. You look around in a panic, what do you say? Almost as if Heaven had sent an angel your way, the blonde guy from earlier returns with a mug in hand. A star wars logo branded the front of it. Cute.

He sees your distress and you nod towards him. He makes his way over to you, leaning over your shoulder to grab the telephone. "Hello. Thank you for calling Star Stationary Company, my name is Anakin. How can I help you today?" He said candidly. Anakin. His name repeated itself in your head, burrowing its way into your memory, as if it was meant to stay for good. He banters with the customer, one he's clearly familiar with. He grabs your purple pen from your perfectly aligned rainbow stash. You watch him scribble numbers and notes down in chicken scratch on his hand, finishing, and popping the pen in his pocket.

You took notice of this but said nothing, as you were too stunned with him grabbing onto the back of your chair as he spoke on the line.

"Mhm, alright. Yeah. Yes, thank you," His lips curl into a smile as he lets out a chuckle, "Have a great day, alright. Bye now." The phone cord relaxes as he places it back down in its spot with a click. He backs up a little to be able to make eye contact without standing directly above you. "Sorry, I figured you might need some help, you looked distressed. Not in a bad way. Not in a good way either. I'm sorry that sounds weird.." God he's cute. His nose scrunches and his feet shuffle nervously.

"No, no, you're alright," you laugh, "I needed help. I just wasn't really sure what to say you know? Thank you, a lot, though.." Small chuckles and silence followed the both of you momentarily.

"What's your name?" His curiosity overtook him. You offer your name back softly, to satisfy his curiousness. He smiles. Satisfied. "Well, as much as I like wasting company time, I have to get back to work." He lets out a small laugh to his own joke. You smile as he heads back to his desk.

You turn back to face the computer sitting in front of you. Whilst scrolling endlessly and directing calls to the correct department, you see out of the corner of your eye the desk arrangement closest to you. Lo and behold, sitting almost parallel to you, at the second closest desk, was Anakin. Something fluttered in your stomach, nerves or butterflies, you had no idea, but it was stupid anyway. This was your first day on the job, and you'll be dammed if you become one of 'those' girls. Plus, you knew absolutely nothing about him. Except for the fact that he has the most piercing blue eyes, a deeper dimple on the right side, and he has your purple pen in his pocket.

After about three hours of boring calls, and occasional glances to your left to see the blue-eyed boy 'hard at work' it was time for lunch. You got up and you swore felt his head sit up and turn on a swivel, his eyes tracing you to the break room. You've got to be delusional. A girl from the customer service department met you at a small table for five in a corner of the room. She was a talker but sweet for the most part, but her words became white noise after he walked in. His blue collared shirt was slightly ruffled, like his hair. He walked to the vending machine, catching the glance you threw him, and quickly returning it. A smirk plastered itself across his face as he looked toward the ground. His quarters made pinging noises as they hit the bottom. one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. A candy was just a dollar.

"Hey, the vending machine gave me an extra one I guess, want it?" He had walked over to you and the girl, holding out the snickers bar in your direction.

Your eyes looked him up and down subconsciously, "Yeah, thank you. They're my favorite actually." The girl who's named you learned was Kristen, smiled at you, as if to suggest something.

"Oh really?" Anakin noted.

"Yeah, funny coincidence huh?"

"How so?"

"Cause you got my favorite candy?"

"Lucky guess?" He shrugged his shoulders, already walking out the door.

"Wait... but you said-" His words registered in your head. He was getting it for himself? What did he mean 'lucky guess?' Best not to read into it. He was already out the door anyway.

"So... You and Anakin hm?" Kristen remarked.

"What? OH! God no. No, he's just a friendly guy. Just friends." You took a sip of your water to prevent yourself from word vomiting, looking off to the side.

"Mhm... well anyway, keep me posted" She winks as she gets up from the plastic chair, sliding it back underneath the table to walk away.

You sat there for a moment. Was there something? Were you not crazy?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─────

After your lunch break, you found yourself back at your desk, answering calls, faxing documents, boring office activities. With your back turned, and facing the copy machine nearby, you felt a small sensation on your back. You ignored it, chopping it up to just a cold breeze, but it happened again. You turn around to face whatever it could be, and you see Anakin quickly put his hands down at his desk, dropping a small roll of wadded paper, like a kid who got caught eating candy. You continue to stare at him, waiting to meet his eyes. He looks up from his desk finally and meets your gaze. you smile. His hand quickly slaps over his own laugh, stifling it from sound and view. You lift of your hands with the copies in the and shrug at him. "What?" you mouth silently, smiling.

He just shook his head in response, throwing his smile back down to the desk.

You just shrug it off and carry your papers back to your desk. The phone chimes, you pick it up quickly and repeat what you were taught earlier today, "Hello! Thank you for calling Star Stationary Company, my name is y/n! How can I help you today?" You said in a much more enthusiastic tone than Anakin's. You continue to banter and chat with the costumer, as they ask about deals and prices, but soon your focus is derailed, as a little piece of paper hits the side of your head and falls slowly on to your desk. You pause a second, then whip your head to the culprit's direction. He just sassily waves slightly and smiles.

You finish the call and ponder for a moment. You open the email tab on the old desktop computer and type in Anakin, clicking on his email address. You type, biting your lip in thought. 'Are you having fun with your balls?' Was it too far? Nah. He seemed like he enjoyed joking around. You wait a moment and look over to him. His glasses reflected your message as his nose pushed them up by scrunching due to his smile.

'Ping! Your own screen lights up with a blue notification. Unread email from Anakin Skywalker. What did this little blue-eyed prick have to say? 'What can I say, love me some balls. Wby?' No way he just fucking asked that. You look over at him, mouth agape as a breathless laugh escapes. He just grins in response and shrugs. You look back at the screen, then to your keyboard, and back to your screen.

'Mr. Skywalker, I keep my ball preferences to myself. thank you very much.' Did that sound to serious? hopefully not. You keep an eye out for him, waiting on him to see the message.

'Ping!' You've got to find out how to turn that stupid noise off. Oh well. You can do that later, as you had an email to read from a handsome blonde man a couple feet over. 'I'm so sorry ma'am, how stupid of me to bring up such an intimate question so soon, I barley even know your name.' You watched his stupid little grin as he typed that whole thing out, as you were reading it. A sudden presence by your desk startles you as you turn to face it. Anakin stood in front of you, arms crossed and leaning onto your semi-circle counter in front of you.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you, I just wanted to come over here to discuss your ball preferences privately." You snort at his joke as he leans his head down and lets out a small breathy laugh before rising back up. "I don't get what's so funny ma'am, I'm just trying to get to know a co-worker?" He laughed in between words, as your laugh fueled his own.

"I've told you; my preferences are reserved to friends only!" The both of you whisper chat among the ringing of phones, chatter of people, and rustling of paper around the office.

"Well then, we'll start off small. Favorite color?"

You hesitate. Anakin makes a buzzer noise and taps the counter. "Ooo times up, gotta be faster Snickers."

"What'd you just call me?" You pause and cock your head to the side.

"Oh, I'm sorry, not a fan of nicknames? I just though cause it's your favorite candy-"

"No, no, no! It's fine! It's cute, I just um- I was confused." You trip all over your words, voice cracking as you stare into his baby blue eyes hidden behind his frames. "Continue!"

"huh? Oh! yeah, okay... favorite soda?"

"Oh come on these are elementary Anakin... f/s! For sure. Final answer!"

"I thought you were better than that." Anakin shakes his head in mocking disapproval. You laugh questioning what his defiance was for. "Thats like the worst one-" The phone at his desk rings. He waves his hand at you in an apologetic manner and makes his way back over to his desk. You sat there for a while after, bored and sad your banter had ended. He was funny. Dorky, and sassy but funny. While you waited for your phone to ring or email to do its annoying pinging noise, you doodled. It's just silly little dogs here and there or like an eyeball or flower, but occasionally you produce a nice sketch. Not like a frame worthy thing, but accurate ones of people, things, places, etc.

Your lined notepad laid out on your desk, littered with sketches of the fake flowers and side profiles of your co-workers as they worked. Nothing too big. Suddenly, a small thud makes rings in your ears, and you look up to see the source in front of you. It was Anakin of course. He placed your favorite soda right in front of you. A small blush spread across your face and body. He was a friendly guy. You kept having to remind yourself of that. "Okay. Now that we're friends, do you like 'em small?"

You pause and stare at him for a second before allowing yourself to chuckle at his poor joke. "Anakin!" You gasp smacking his hand off of your desk.

He laughs and drags his hands up in the air in defeat, backing away slightly. "Cmon! I bought you a soda Y/n!"

"That doesn't mean were 'ball preference' kind of friends. Not yet." you turn to the side and stack your papers neatly as you speak.

Anakin dramatically puts his head on your desk and pounds his fist lightly beside him. "What must a man do!"

"Oh quit your crying... don't you have a job to be doing?" You pause and turn to him questioningly.

"Oh like what? Entertain my receptionist?" For some reason, his use of possessive pronouns sent waves over your body.

"Anakin..." Your voice remained unwavering, hiding the effect his words had on you.

"Alright alright. By the way," He pauses before making his way back to his desk, "my favorite soda is Crush if you ever feel like being nice. Hint hint, wink wink" Did he just 'Hint hint, wink wink' you? Outloud? He was so fucking stupid. You loved it though. Itmade the day more enjoyable and go by faster.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─────

You've worked there for about two weeks now, both you and Anakin have gotten closer, always sitting together at company things. Choosing each other as partners when HR does 'informational' games. It was subtle but people noticed. Kristen became one of your friends in the office, she could be snippy, but you don't blame her, she worked in customer service. She would make silly comments about the both of you. Sometimes you fed into it, and other times, completely shut it down. (You enjoyed it either way.)

Today was a big night for the office. It was the Halloween Party. You had no idea what you'd be going as, as it had to be appropriate and recognizable. Kristen was already doing a matching couples costumes with the whole customer service department, so that left her out. You had asked Anakin to match with you earlier yesterday, and he agreed thank god, yet tonight, you were sitting alone in a chair outside the conference room where all the food and music was. Since it was so last minute, your costumes were basic. You sat slumped down with your cat ears on your head, with a little painted nose on with black paint and whiskers. Your black turtleneck was bringing you the slightest bit of comfort. Anakin hadn't come yet, and the party ended soon. You had felt disappointed but felt a kind of sense of regret. You guys weren't close. He didn't have an obligation to be here, and it was pathetic of you to pout in the corner, waiting on blonde man to show up in his mouse outfit, that you had barley known for half a month.

Streamers were starting to droop from the ceiling as you look up from your crossed arms. The sound of the front door opening didn't faze you anymore. You quit looking up in hopes it was him, after about the twelfth time. Soon though, to your surprise, standing in front of you was a dripping wet Anakin with coat in hand. "I'm so sorry, I was sprinting all around town looking for face paint for the nose. T-then it rained," He was clearly out of breath, "and I lost track of time." You shook your head at him after a moment. "I'm so sorry I really am..."

You stand up, and pat his arm, rubbing it comfortingly. "Anakin, it's no big deal. I'm not gonna lie I was a little upset but you could've just texted me?" You hold up your phone. "We have face paint here."

Anakin takes a deep sigh, burying his face in his hands, dragging them down slowly. "Are you serious. No way I was that stupid."

"I don't expect anything less Mr. Skywalker." You shrug your shoulders playfully.

"You could at least try to be nice Snickers. I know it's not your strong suit." He quips.

You stare at him for a moment, crossing your arms. "Want your face painted or not?"

Anakin sticks his finger up, signaling you to hang on as he rummages through his wet bag. He pulls out a cheap pair of pink and grey ears, you can tell were hot glued last night. "Ready!" He holds them up near his face and smiles.

There were only a couple people left, excluding you and Anakin, since the party ended in 25 minutes, but you'd be dammed if you weren't gonna make the most of it. You had him sit in your rolley office chair at your desk, with all the paints splayed out on it. You lean in to dab some more pink on his nose. Each time you'd go in to put it on, both of you would start laughing. You didn't know if it was nervousness or what, but you were a giggling, sweating mess.

"Y'know I'm never gonna be able to finish if you don't stop laughing at me." You pull your hands back away from his face and he looks downward trying to contain his laughter.

"Sorry, sorry, work your magic," He straightens up and makes a more serious face, closing his eyes. "Cmon." He beckons you. You move closer, pulling out the black face paint crayon, slowly tracing whiskers onto his face. Did mice have whiskers? You had no idea; all you could focus on was how lucky you were that his eyes were closed because now, he couldn't see how flushed you were. His skin was soft, his eyelashes long and fan like, but god his cheeks. They were so perfect; a rose shade dusted his pale points. Almost as if they were mocking your own blush.

Anakin slowly opened his eyes, and for a moment it was like the whole world stood still. The both of you just looked into each others eyes for a moment, both admiring faces and features. If the saying 'eyes are the window to the soul' was true, he had left his unlocked for you. More was said in that few seconds glance, than you had ever heard in your entire life.

'HONKKKKKKKKKKKK'

What the fuck was that? You jump startled by the noise. Anakin puts a friendly hand on your wrist to calm you back down. "Sorry, that's probably my ride." You said nothing, still processing whatever 'moment' the both of you just shared. "Um, see you next week." Anakin waved and headed towards the door.

"Wait! I- um, I'm heading out to my car anyway, can I walk you out?" Your hands fiddled anxiously.

"Well, I don't see why not?" He grins at you, motioning for you to join him.

The elevator ride was quiet again. The pattering rain made a melody with the soft shuffling of feet. You watched Anakin from the reflection of the metal walls of the elevator. His image was blurred but nonetheless, you could still see his presence, and that was enough.

'Ding!'

The two of you stepped out of the elevator and out of the lobby's glass doors. Rain began to smear the both of yours face paint. "See you next week Snickers." Anakin nodded to you and headed to a black sedan parked Infront of the building. You waved to him solemnly as he opened the passenger side door. You saw a glance of the driver.

Your heart stopped beating.

A beautiful brunette girl sat in the driver's seat. Her curled hair laid tossed on her elegant shoulders. Her lips were pink and plump, and her eyes were nothing short of model worthy. Anakin leaned over and planted a kiss to her temple.

fuck.

You stood in the rain watching them take off onto the empty street.

Notes ` Im sorry this took so long to get out, and I apologize if it's not up to code. But im genuinely having so much fun writing this and I really appreciate all of the support! FOUR MORE CHPATERS TO GO WOOOO! I hope you liked it :)

tags ` @darthgloris , @queenie-official , @bby-imasociopath , @mxltifxnd0m , @jayrami3 , @robertsmithclone , @brainscabs

[papasbaseball]

Raphael x Reader (Till Death Do Us Part)

+18 CONTENT NOT FOR MINORS. MINORS KEEP SCROLLING

Pairing: Raphael x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Sexual Coercion. You sign a contract without reading that indebts you to Raphael. Mentions and descriptions of torture (flaying(not done to the reader)).

Summary: You went looking for a lawyer to help with your divorce. Always read what you sign or you might end up in bed with the Devil.

Word Count: 2,379

Notes: This was inspired by the CONTRACT THAT WE ALL SIGNED WHEN WE INSTALLED BG3???? Definitely did not read the Terms and Conditions. Someone suggested that Raphael was Larian's lawyer and well... here we are.

AO3 Link

He wanted the house, the new Mercedes you bought last month, and alimony to boot. For a cheater, he certainly footed a high bill.

“And you didn’t get any evidence of his… infidelity?” The crooked frown of your newly acquired lawyer, Raphael Hope, betrayed the polite substitution. His eyes ate into his skull in a fashion that spoke of many a long night and too many encounters with jackasses. Perhaps in private company, he would not be so quick to bite his tongue.

The words came out tightly. ”I came home early from work and that’s when I saw him…screwing my cousin on the brand-new sofa.”

He walked to the minifridge in the corner of the room, fetching a bottle of Evian. He sat it to the side of your consultation folder. You thanked him quietly, letting your shoulders fall as the coolness of the water slipped and soothed your hoarse throat that you had earned from a night spent on your coworker’s couch.

”A pity, really,” he said. “To throw away a marriage to someone as exquisite as yourself? I would not blame you if you thought all men to be fools.”

His words and the bass he put into them forced your gaze to the consultation folder, intent on figuring out if the font of “Hope Law Firm” was serif or not. His eyes glowed a genuine amber that reminded you too much of sparks from 3 years ago.

”I didn’t come here to flirt, Mr. Hope,” you said, taking another sip of water.

”I am a man of facts. It is only the truth.” Putting a black marbled pen to the notepad of his padfolio, he continued, “No evidence will make it difficult to win in court. You are certain there are no texts, no photo-“

”There’s nothing,” you interrupted. The golden nib stopped scratching, fire lighting in his eyes.

”Please-“ He blinked and it vanished, his face set once more in cool professionalism. “We have ways of getting evidence, but most people find it to be out of their price range. Think very carefully, dear.”

The blood crept into your cheeks at the endearment. Your soon-to-be ex-husband had always called you “babe”. It felt commonplace and cheap, the kind of sweetener that a boy might use to get into his college girlfriend’s pants. Raphael's words smoldered on his tongue and felt anything but commonplace. The crisp suit, the soft but styled chestnut hair, the smoky cologne that promised wealth and wins in the courtroom. If Satan had built the perfect lawyer, it was him.

You shook your head.

He sighed, sliding a thick cream-colored paper out from the back of his padfolio and over to you. The page's weight was increased by the bold black letters across the top: AGREEMENT. You flipped the paper, surprised that the back was blank.

”Read it if you would like, but this permits us to do our own snooping. We have a 100% success rate, but our methods are… unorthodox.”

He had no website boasting wins or guarantees when you’d gone looking for a lawyer, but the newspapers had done that enough for him. Win after win gilded his name on every article in the news tab, tales of mob bosses and politicians clearly guilty getting off. You knew this was coming.

Biting your lip, you took the pen that Raphael offered you and scrawled your signature as quickly as you could across the bottom. Better to be fast than to change your mind. A sigh of disappointment from him froze your hand.

”You should really read things before you sign them, dear.”

With a wave, the doors slammed shut, window shades dropped, and sconces gleamed an angry red. The table and chairs vanished in a cloud of ash and smoke that swept up the walls, devouring the dark blue and mahogany into volcanic stone veined with bloodied quartz. Scrambling towards the exit, you watched as the door and handle were soon too devoured by that awful smoke.

”Let me out,” you begged, turning to face him. “You can’t keep me here.”

”Can’t I?” he chuckled. “I must… per our contract agreement of course.” The cream-colored paper floated up into his palm, having survived the incineration of the room. “From this day forth, I do agree to be willingly at the service of Raphael of the House of Hope until he sees fit to relinquish me from his company.” He laughed at this, directing his darkened gaze toward you. “It is not often my servants are so rare in beauty.”

“My roommate-“

”Will not miss you,” he finished. “Nobody at that dead-end job loved you. No husband at home to cry for your absence. No children to weep for their mother’s milk.” His pupils burned hot like dying stars against an obsidian sclera, raking over your body. “At least not yet.”

He stalked you into the corner like a lion, a smile forming when you whimpered as he got too close. Another sweep of the hand and the contract engulfed in flames to reveal a great dagger, golden from hilt to tip—the point nestled under the tip of your chin.

”What should I do with you, little mouse?” He crooned, cocking his head to one side. “So careless. I can’t have that in my service.”

“I promise I won’t tell anyone,” you breathed, trying to ignore the tear that slipped down your cheek. The dagger tip pressed into the delicate skin, raising you until you were standing once more. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

”Of course you will,” he said. “You have no choice.” He drew closer until you could taste the tart cherry undernote of his cologne. “I would like a taste, dear.”

Your fingers trembled reaching for the soft charcoal lapel of his suitcoat that rose and fell with each breath. It stilled for a moment as you looked up into his face. A sharp brow quirked, highlighting those wicked eyes. A weak tug of his lapel earned you a smile and he bent just enough for you to touch your lips to his. His hand slithered up your back as if he had done this a thousand times before, a modest touch enough to set your nerves alight. Your tongue flicked across his smirk, and he parted those unforgiving lips.

Whether he was a devil, a trickster, or some other creature made no difference. His cool indifference sparked something within you, however small. His hand splayed across your back, pushing you into him to be devoured. The sharp line of his nose pressed into your cheek, a small groan as if he were devouring a cake that was soaked in the sweet fruit syrup of the summer sun. You pressed your tongue into his, desperate to taste the honeyed words he’d used to get you to let your guard down so easily. Your legs were soon wrapping themselves around his waist.

“Greed looks good on you, little mouse,” he said, dipping his head to trail kisses down your jaw.

“You’re a monster,” you protested, voice breathless and hungry for more of his lips and tongue.

He nipped into the crook of your neck. “I can stop if you would like. Denying you your pleasures has its own charm.”

You gasped, grabbing a handful of his soft hair as he licked and sucked. Your mind toyed with the idea of trying to escape, but every time you got close to the plan of finding an exit the thought slipped away into the lust of him pressing you up against the jagged wall, knife still to your chin.

“Mr. Hope-”

“Your Excellency,” he cut you off.

The stabbing points of the rock behind you retracted and you watched the darkened cave transform into a room decked in gaudy red and gold with ceilings high enough to house God. He carried you to the bed made softer than sin, kneeing open your legs.

Light glimmered over him to reveal a monstrous form, complete with horns that looked like twisted stone and demonic crimson wings that served as a terrifying backdrop to your captor. Black claws shredded the woolen skirt, pantyhose, and pink satin panties that you picked out that morning, leaving scratches on your stomach in their careless destruction. A growl at the sight of the warmth that you offered him was all the warning given before he finished butchering the turtleneck and lacy bra.

“I’m going to enjoy breaking you, crushing you until the only words from your mouth are “Yes, Your Excellency”. Given how wet you are, it should not be long.”

You crawl back further onto the bed, away from him. “I’m not.”

“Please. Even a human could smell the way your cunt is aching for me to stretch it and fill it.” He crawled onto the bed after you, pulling your legs apart once more, bringing his face close to your needy sex. “Would you like to see how a real man does it?”

Your ex always had an excuse for refusing to go down on you. One night he’d claim that his jaw locked up easily, the next he’d say he preferred only freshly shaven. They were endless to the point that you had stopped asking. Raphael nipped at the skin of your inner thigh, begging you to answer.

“Are you going to bite me?” you stuttered.

He smiled. “Would you like me to?”

You grabbed one of the rough horns, guiding him towards your pussy. His tongue glided through your folds until it found your clit. The dying stars looked from under his brow in eager sadism as he suckled the bundle of nerves between his lips. Your back parted from his bed and you shut your eyes as bliss clenched through you.

“Watch me or suffer,” he growled before returning to his ministrations.

Your eyes snapped open as you watched him toy and tease, nibbling and flicking in a new and exciting way with each gasp and whine. He would push you as close to the edge as he could before backing off in cruel delight, mocking your weakness as you pulled futilely on his horns.

“Is there something you want, little mouse?” he said.

“P-please.”

The tip of his claw circled your abused clit. “Please, what?”

The pride stabbed in your throat, trying to claw its way out. “Please, let me cum… Your Excellency.” The words tasted like battery acid, but they satisfied that shit-eating grin of his.

His mouth glistened with your juices as he kissed you deeply once more. “I will think about it.”

The shimmering light swept over him once more to reveal his naked form. Despite him being a monster, you whimpered when you caught sight of his cock. It was built for a creature much bigger than you, a deep red of coagulated blood and wrapped in ridges.

“It’s not going to fit,” you pleaded, digging your nails into his biceps as he pulled away. They slipped out of your grasp and he shouldered one of your legs and then the other.

“Relax. You are too tense.” He lined the tip up and slowly pushed the head in, flaring his wings in response. “Gods you are tight. When was the last time you were properly used?”

It was difficult to hold onto the last remaining bits of sanity as he slid in further. You clench in protest, feeling the burning pain as he stretched you fuller still. “I-” You groan as he slips further in.  “N-never..”

His lips brushed gently against the fresh bruises on your neck, picking them over to find a spot unmarked by his hunger. He stopped pushing, letting you adjust to him. “A pity. I can’t wait to flay that bastard after I finish him in the courtroom.”

His hips pressed forward once more until he had buried himself to the hilt. “Would you like that, my little mouse? I can let you watch as I skin slice after bloody slice off of him. Torture him just enough and then make him watch as I claim your cunt and fill you deep with my seed.” He rocked into you, simulating his wicked plan. “I want to hear him scream as I finish what he couldn’t.”

You groaned as he pushed into you again, stretching you even more. He pulled out and buried himself into you again and again. His claws bit into the flesh of your hips. The thought of him torturing your ex as he fucked you mercilessly put a lurch in your stomach, but it was quickly washed away thinking about the power of Raphael at your side in the courtroom. Giving him the just desserts that the legal system refused to give would be the cherry on top of taking everything from him. The rush mixed and intertwined with the lust bringing you closer and closer toward the edge.

“I-I’m…” you said.

He snorted. “So easy.” The amusement in his voice went straight to your core. He quickened his pace once more. “Cum for me, my little mouse.”

His teeth sank into your shoulder and it sent you tumbling, wave after wave gripping him in desperation. The movement of his hips stuttered after a few more thrusts and you felt the burning heat of him as he growled into your flesh, filling you with the filth of a devil.

He removed his teeth from your shoulder and slid out of you, leaving you aching and wounded. Reaching into the top drawer of the nightstand, he pulled out a gilded cigarette, lighting it with a flash of magic. He took a long drag before reclining back on his side of the bed.

You crept close, wincing as you propped yourself up on your injured arm. His eyes were focused on the far-off paintings on the ceiling. “Did you mean it?” you said. “About torturing him and making him watch?”

The devil exhaled the sweet cherry-scented smoke out of his nostrils. “After I beat him bloody in the courthouse, yes.” He took another drag. “Why?”

You plucked the cigarette out of his clawed hand, taking a drag yourself. “I want you to kill him when you’re finished.”

Raphael smiled, snatching the cigarette back. “Till death do us part.”

[sailorstar9]

When Dealing With An Unreasonable Contractor...

F/N was the third generation of a sweets shop; the Raku-ame was once a Japanese-style sweets shop under her grandfather. However, after F/N's father graduated from the famous culinary institute in Portland, the Raku-ame became a store that made both Japanese and Western-style confectionery. The shop had many regular customers because it offered original branding and full-order packaging.

“I want 20 boxes of doriyaki with our logo.” a long-time customer placed their order.

“I want 30 boxes of assorted Western sweets for year-end gifts.” a middle-aged housewife ordered.

“Thank you very much for your patronage.” F/N bade the customers farewell after each sale.

The business was thriving, with orders constantly coming in.

As the third heir to Raku-ame, F/N was put in charge of the storefront; the clients loved her as a surrogate granddaughter.

But, there was one company that was a pain: Wide Wedding. It's the largest wedding hall in the prefecture, taking orders for wedding cakes and sweets, as well as pastries that were served at the cafe nearly every day. The Raku-ame was also asked to make sweets to serve at the dessert buffet during the reception.

F/N had known Wide Wedding since her father's generation; the person-in-charge in the beginning was mild-mannered and soft-spoken, generally a good person who took Raku-ame's convenience into consideration. But, after the predecessor retired, things started to go wrong. Ikeda, who was newly put in charge, was a man who looked down on the Raku-ame workers, calling them 'subcontractors'. Ikeda, who was the son of the director, had been acting arrogantly and F/N and her father father did not have a good impression on him. Since Ikeda was put in charge of business dealings, it made things difficult as he would often demand a lot of unreasonable things.

“I received an order to put an original branding on a drawstring.” Ikeda slammed a piece of paper with a design on it onto the Raku-ame's front counter. “Use this design.”

“This is for next next week's wedding, right?” F/N gave the wall calendar a quick glance. “It might be a little difficult...”

“You're a subcontractor and you're talking back?” Ikeda fumed.

“We'd need a special mould for the branding and it'll take at least a week for that specific mould to be made by a craftsman.” F/N argued.

“Then, why don't you just get on with it?” Ikeda fired back. “I asked you to do it, now you guys adjust it and make it work. Don't think just because you're cute I'd cut you any slack. I should warn you, my client is a well-known blogger. So, if you offend them, you'd never know what they might write on their blogs. My company's creditability is at stake. Make sure you brand it with this design. If you don't do as you're told, I'll cancel the contract. If we cut you off, it would be a huge blow to your business, wouldn't it? Then do it.”

Left with no choice, F/N's father had to ask the craftsman to make the mould on a super-express basis, managing to the delivery date.

After that, Ikeda continued to impose even more reckless demands.

“I'm going to ask for additional gifts.” Ikeda returned to Raku-ame once again.

“How many?” F/N asked, taking out a notepad.

“A hundred.” Ikeda replied. “They said they wanted to distribute them to clients who will not be attending. Get on with it.”

“When is the delivery date?” F/N asked.

“It's a weekend wedding, so two days.” Ikeda answered. “If you refuse, I'll ask another sweet shop to do it for me. I won't use your place from now on, if you're okay with it...”

“I understand.” F/N sighed. “We will make it on time.”

F/N's father and the other employees were angry, but knew that if they lost the contract with Wide Wedding,their sales will drop dramatically. So, they persevered and worked overtime and managed to meet the delivery deadline.

“If you can do it, don't say it's impossible from the beginning.” Ikeda scoffed at the delivery person.

After that, Ikeda kept asking for a change of the wedding cake's design at no additional costs, saying 'The customer's request has changed'. He even started to interfere with the ingredients, insisting 'Keep the price the same, but use better ingredients'.

As expected, F/N and her father were running out of patience; no matter how big the client was, there were boundaries that must be kept. After a family meeting, it was decided that they should renegotiate their contract with Wide Weddings.

“The weekend gifts; they were all cancelled.” Ikeda informed one day before the wedding, shrugging. “A client had a falling out. The wedding was cancelled.”

“We've already finished the products and there's only the wrapping left.” F/N protested. “If you cancel at this point, we'll have to charge you a cancellation fee.”

“Who cares about that?” Ikeda snorted. “I'm also in a rush because of a sudden cancellation, so don't bother me anymore.”

“That's not going to happen.” F/N stood her ground. “The cancellation fee is written in the contract. You get the cancellation fee from the customer. You can at least pay us the cancellation fee from there.”

“Shut up.” Ikeda barked. “I'm on the edge of my seat because of a disgusting customer. I've placed many orders from you. Stop making a big deal out of one cancellation. If you keep talking back to me, all future transactions are off the table. Now cancel the order.”

“I understand.” F/N gave Ikeda a calm smile. “If you insist that much, we have no choice. We cannot do business with anyone who does not pay the cancellation fee. We will not do any business with you in the future.”

“Do you know what you are saying?” Ikeda was puzzled. “If that's what you want, fine. I'll report your rudeness to my superiors and all business with you is off the table. You're going to pay for this. It's too late for regrets.” he spat out and left.

F/N knew Ikeda probably blew the whistle to either his boss or his father, saying that Raku-ame was to blame for everything. That month ended Raku-ame's contract with Wide Wedding and the reason F/N and her family wasn't panicking was because...

“You look stressed.” Chigiri entered the Raku-ame, bringing the Blue Lock contenders along with him.

“Hyoma...” F/N blinked at the redhead's surprise visit.

“Ikeda giving you trouble?” Chigiri guessed.

“What was your first clue?” F/N sighed.

“Take a break.” Chigiri planted a quick kiss on F/N's fringe. “I'll take over from here.”

“Say, F/N.” Mikage Reo addressed the Raku-ame heiress after everyone's purchases were packaged. “Chigiri mentioned your shop is the most reputable, long-established sweets shop in Kagoshima and the Mikage Corporation is looking to expand into Kagoshima. We intend to build a wedding hall here, therefore we're making the first move and inviting you as a full-time staff member.”

“Let me call my father out.” F/N retreated back and got her father out.

And with that, Reo made his pitch to F/N's father, with F/N's father handling the final contract signing weeks later.

[gutwrenchflowerbomb]

There’s a longer post about my current situation but I know TL;DR is real so I’ll do the good thing first: I’ve designed a notepad! I’ll be making the sample/test/prototype this week as I’m waiting for some supplies to get here.

It’s a design that I basically made for myself, as I love wrestling AND penguins. I might do some variants with some other cute animals like kitties or frogs or something. If it comes out the way I hope, I’ll have it listed this weekend.

I’ve been in a weird headspace. Losing my job and having to move in with my mom was not on the list of things I expected to happen. But that’s life.

I found a job, I’ve been hired to be a “rewind operator” at a printing company. They print a lot of things but mostly it seems to be labels and packaging from small business labels to 100s of thousands of labels for big name brands. It’s a position I have no experience in, a fact I told the managers during my interview. But I also told them why I applied : I thought it sounded interesting, it’s a pretty stable industry, it provides a steady work schedule (no on call shit) and it would be much less emotionally taxing than my previous position. I said “the closest thing to experience I have is that I print and cut my own little craft stuff at home.”

Well, I guess they liked my attitude or my candor or both, cuz they offered me the position. I start next week.

This lack of direction and work and purpose or whatever has been the worst. I’ve felt like I’ve been just floating in jello. I’ve been trying to do some designing but I don’t have my own space to really do it the way I’ve been used to.

Despite that, I’ve created a bunch of new designs for stickers, buttons and keychains. Not just wrestling related either. I’ll be posting those later when I get out of my funk.

[bts-hyperfixation]

Outside of the fox

Chapter 10 of maybe 30ish (2186 words)

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she'd been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

"Day 1 are you ready?" Jimin asks as he hands you a brown bag.

You sneak a look inside to find it filled with snacks to get you through the day along with a post-it note that you can't quite read from this angle. You fold the bag closed carefully and thank Jimin for the lunch.

"Yeah, I'm ready, at least as ready as I'm ever going to be."

"It'll be great I'm sure. You said you already kind of made a friend right?"

"Taehyung? I'm not sure he was a bit hot and cold, but I'll be okay, I'm a big girl."

Jimin sweeps you into a hug before you can even reach for the door. You indulge him, allowing yourself to enjoy the feeling of being held close. He sends you off, standing at the door as you walk down the drive and around the corner, standing there until you can no longer see the door.

____________

The office is still relatively empty when you walk through the doors. The same severe-looking lady is standing at reception. You offer a smile which she returns.

"Y/N welcome back. Glad to see you got the position. I don't think I introduced myself the other day. My name is Ronnie and we will be working closely together."

Ronnie shows you officially around the office pointing out various essentials that you would need to know within your first few days. It feels as though you should have a notepad to write down all of the information you are being fed at lightning speed. Only about half of the information sticks in your brain.

It's not a humongous office. Maybe 10 cubicles and 3 offices with real walls. 2 conference rooms sit at the far end of the space. The company specialises in helping foreigners to move to the country assisting in work placement and visa procurement. You are introduced to the other two people that have already arrived in the office and then Estelle is setting you up with her at the front desk.

She hands you a brand new company-branded stationary set with your company ID tag and login information. Then she leaves you to breathe, fetching a drink from the break room. Slowly people filter in through the main doors, introducing themselves to you as they go. Everyone is extremely welcoming but you can't help but notice the absence of the asshole from the other day and Taehyung.

You set about answering phone calls and forwarding emails as Estelle had shown you, it was boring busy work but it certainly beat hanging at home alone doing nothing at all. Sometime just before lunch Taehyung finally strolls through the doors. He grins cheekily at your colleague as she chastises him for being late.

"Don't think you're special just because of how you got the job Taehyung-ah, you have to get here on time just like the rest of us."

"I know Estelle, I just didn't fancy getting out of bed this morning." He shrugs.

The panda grabs a handful of candy from the dish in front of Estelle and sauntered into the main room. The older woman grumbles under her breath about disrespect but the look on her face is one of pure adoration, not dissimilar to the look a grandmother might have when her grandson plays up.

"Don't go around getting ideas from him, that boy's trouble." She says to you.

"Am not!" Taehyung calls from behind the half wall that separates the main room from reception. "Hey Y/N we are going for lunch in thirty minutes okay?"

You don't respond to the disembodied voice as it calls out to you, opting to focus on the work you'd been assigned instead.

True to his word he reappeared in front of you exactly 30 minutes later carrying your brown bag and a bento box of his own.

"Come on there's a lovely little park for a picnic across the road. You get an hour for lunch."

You glance at Estelle but she just shakes her head and signals for you to go with him.

__________

The park is a very short walk away. Almost directly opposite the building, if your offices had been on the opposite side it would've provided the cutest view. Taehyung produced a blanket from a tote bag you hadn't noticed and laid it on the floor for you to sit on together.

It was a really beautiful day with no clouds, but it was a little chilly. This close to winter an outdoor picnic was an interesting choice. The breeze makes you shiver just a little. Before you even get a chance to shield yourself, Taehyung has produced another blanket to drape over your shoulders.

"I love the cold, my DNA is built for it, but I sometimes forget others aren't as accustomed... But this time I remembered!" He claps his hands together clearly proud of himself.

He opens his bento box and produces 3 courses worth of meals. He has white rice with some kind of marinated tofu, a salad with balsamic vinegar, and cookies. There is also a small Thermus from which you can smell the tea as soon as he twists it open.

"Go on then what did you bring for lunch? Maybe we can do swapsies, I don't really fancy tofu." He reaches eagerly for your bag, not giving you a chance to snatch it bag.

He pulls out your chicken sandwiches that Jimin had wrapped messily in the last of the tinfoil roll. Then he reaches in for the apple and crisps, coming back with the note that had been sitting in the bottom.

"Y/N have an amazing first day we are so proud and can't wait to celebrate again when you get home, Jimin." Taehyung reads aloud. "Who is Jimin? You're boyfriend? I'm hurt you would lead me on this way Y/N"

Taehyung mocks being shot through the heart, dramatically falling back onto the blanket as he clutches the pink note in his hand.

"I can't have led you on in less than two conversations Taehyung. And Jimin's no one... just a friend."

You reach to grab the note back from him but he keeps it just out of reach causing you to tumble into his lap.

"Well maybe I should try to make him my boyfriend, I want little notes in my lunch too." He pouts.

His breath tickles your face as you try to scramble back up without flattening him in the process. He just laughs at your efforts and makes no effort to help you get off of him. Although he does hand you the note back.

He takes your crisps and gives you his cookies as a consolation prize. He asks you various questions and you strategically avoid answering them directly the same way you'd done with everyone else. What you didn't expect was for him to be doing the same. You couldn't tell why exactly but you were fairly certain there were things he was omitting from his story as he told you how he came to work at the firm with you.

Lunch comes to an end very quickly and you help him pack up the blankets that don't seem to want to fit back in the bag they came from. Eventually, he just punches them until they are in enough to carry them back. He deposits you back at your desk dead on one hour after you left and then disappears for the remainder of the day.

_____________

Apparently, it would seem working takes a lot out of a person. By the time you trudge back into the cottage at 6:00 pm, you are shattered. It seems impossible not having done that much and yet you can't keep your eyelids from drooping and your ass hurts from sitting for so long.

Jungkook is the only one home when you walk through the door. The only part of him you can see are his ears peaking up over the sofa trying to determine who just walked through the front door. You expect them to droop a little when he realises it's you but instead they twitch excitedly.

"Hey Jungkook, did you have a good day." You ask, approaching the living room slowly.

"Yeah, iI didn't do much." He answers.

"Do you want some dinner? Or shall we wait until the others are home?"

You peer over the back of the sofa and watch him playing on his switch until he is at a point where he can pause and speak to you.

"I wanna wait." He glances up at you briefly and then back to his game.

"Okay in which case I'm going to change, work clothes still feel too weird to relax in."

You go to the study and change into sweats. You're pretty sure the front door opened at least twice since you went upstairs signalling the arrival of some of the others. Jungkook's caramel scent wafted happily around the house as it started to mix with Namjoon's campfire. No other scent came to you though leaving you confused as to who else might be in the house.

Hoseok is sitting in the big armchair in the lounge when you come back down. Yoongi wasn't due to be home for another half an hour but clearly, that didn't matter.

"I got lonely at my house, so I thought I'd wait for Yoongi here." He shrugged when you sent him a questioning look. "Anyway, how was your day? we are all dying to know."

He shuffles forward to literally be on the edge of his seat and Namjoon and Jungkook stop the conversation they were having to listen.

"It was nothing special. I didn't realise how tiring working was though."

"Surely you've had a job before though." Namjoon scoffs.

You shake your head and are met by three very surprised faces.

"Even I had a paper round when I was a teen." Jungkook baulks.

"I haven't really had the opportunity to pursue a career until now I guess... I studied a lot." You try to shut down the conversation before they go any further, still not ready to divulge a lot about your past.

Luckily Jimin and Yoongi make it through the door together. Each of the homeowners exchanged kisses before the two new arrivals made themselves comfortable.

"Are we supposed to be working on something today?" Yoongi asked Hobi, confused by his presence, although clearly not disappointed you notice.

"Uh-oh busted. I just had a lot of fun hanging out yesterday... I can leave if you want." The human's usually cool and collected facade cracking a little.

"No of course you can stay." Namjoon answers. "Now what are we thinking for dinner?"

______

Again the night goes on, Hobi is invited to stay once more, this time Yoongi offers his and Namjoon's room so Jimin can have his own bed back for the night. Although you suspect there may be alterior motives involved when Yoongi suggests they share the room and Namjoon share with Jungkook. Hoseok doesn't flinch, and happily finds his own way upstairs.

"Yoongi, darling, you seem to be getting a little... protective of your new friend." Namjoon points out carefully.

"So? I'm protective of a lot of my friends, I'm protective over you guys aren't I?" Yoongi gets a little defensive.

"I should hope we are more than friends." Jimin points out.

"Do you want to pursue Hobi?" Namjoon asks seriously.

"I don't know, maybe? I don't know it's been a long time since I've actively pursued anyone. And I'm not sure you even count Joonie." Yoongi contemplates.

"I think even if maybe you haven’t thought about it you should, clearly your hybrid parts are already starting to think of him as ours, or at the very least yours." Namjoon reasons.

"Yeah, you're right. I have definitely been feeling more anxious when he isn't around me." Yoongi stands and says he good nights, following Hoseok upstairs to probably work out exactly how he feels.

"So you guys consider new mates then?" You ask tentatively, although you aren't sure why it should concern you.

"When the right people come along who are we to turn down more love?" Jimin asks in reply, looking off dreamily.

"That makes sense I guess, I've always been told that more partners just results in more jealousy." You say, thinking about the things your ex used to say.

"Why would someone you love experiencing more love ever make you jealous? It always makes me so happy when everyone else is happy." Jimin moves on to the sofa next to Namjoon and Jungkook and cuddles in closely.

"That's... that's really lovely." You answer, and then fake a yawn. "I think I'm going to head to bed, goodnight."

You thought you'd be asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow but find yourself struggling to fall asleep. your eyes keep blinking open as thoughts of a pack of your own swim through your brain. A group of people who love each other so much that jealousy isn't even a thought in their minds.

Next

Series masterlist

Masterlist

Please send asks, reactions, most to least, and general smutty thoughts to my ask box to keep me writing they do not have to be connected to this story. I just like giving myself extra work to do so. Please join in

[reyesstrand]

way more than seven sentence sunday

thanks for the tag @heartstringsduet and @carlos-in-glasses <33 food fic won the poll, so here’s some sentences for that!!

Carlos looks like he’s about to give in. Like he’s about to allow himself the grace he deserves.

“Shit,” he suddenly murmurs, voice laced with pent-up frustration as the back of his hand knocks into one of the near-empty mugs keeping him company. TK watches as a few droplets of coffee splatter onto his notepad, and he reaches over immediately, swiping up the mug and using the end of his sleeve to wipe up the bit of coffee remaining on the desk.

“Carlos, take a break,” TK suggests again, a little firmer, holding the mug close to his chest. “You’re exhausted, babe, it’s okay to need some time—“

The brand new phone rings then, annoyingly sharp and imperfectly timed.

“I’m fine,” Carlos tells him, reaching for a fresh piece of paper to scribble on as he grabs for the phone.

“Baby—“

“I’m fine, TK.”

It’s said with an air of finality, tinged with a desperate, wordless plea: let me be alone. TK sets his jaw and nods, watching as Carlos brings the phone to his ear and launches into a conversation about home insurance. TK so desperately wants to force Carlos away, to let him handle some of the heavy-lifting, but he can see the fraying strings keeping his boyfriend upright, and he doesn’t want to be the reason they snap completely. Carlos tries so hard to keep himself together, and he still hasn’t cried in front of TK since that night in front of their smoldering home, and he tries not to think too much about the distance that seems to be splitting them in two.

TK swallows and sets out to make something simple for breakfast—something Carlos will smell from Owen’s office and come seeking out in half an hour—but refuses to leave without resting his hand on the desk and pressing a lingering kiss to the crease between Carlos’ brow.

Carlos reciprocates, in the only way he can while otherwise occupied: by patting his hip gently, by reaching up to take his hand, and squeezing his fingers, and TK feels the ache spread through his whole body when Carlos’ eyes meet his for half a second and they ask, forgive me? as if TK’d ever have to think twice about it.

no pressure tagging @paperstorm @chaotictarlos @theghostofashton @safeashousespdf @freneticfloetry @alrightbuckaroo @birdclowns @inflarescent @beautifulhigh @marjansmarwani @never-blooms and leaving this as an open tag for whoever would like to participate! <3

[strawberryblondebutch]

Last 3 Lines Challenge

Rules: Post the last three lines you've written, and if it has been over a week, write something new in a WIP!!

Tagged by @yxlenas - in lieu of fan content, please enjoy my messy werewolf lesbian OCs. Technically 4 lines, but I wanted the added context, you know?

She stands up and moves to the nightstand in silence, picking up the company-branded notepad the hotel left for my convenience. Rather than using the scratchy ballpoint pen that accompanies it, Arwen pulls an eye pencil from her jacket pocket and scrawls a few numbers across the top page, which she marks with a lipstick seal. "Let me know when you're back in town and maybe we can make this a habit. I'd love to see what you can do without that mangled paw."

No-pressure tags go to @pacinglikeghosts @pelorsdyke and anyone else who's been hitting the wall, wants to do it, and hasn't already been tagged!

[brandedpads]

Choosing the Right Format for Custom Duplicate Books

Custom duplicate books are essential tools for businesses, helping to keep accurate records of transactions, orders, and communications. Choosing the right format for your custom duplicate books can streamline your processes and enhance efficiency. Here’s a guide to help you select the best format for your needs.

1. Determine Your Purpose

Sales Receipts: Ideal for retail businesses, providing customers with proof of purchase while keeping a copy for your records.

Invoices: Perfect for service-based businesses, ensuring both you and your clients have a detailed record of services rendered and payments due.

Order Forms: Useful for businesses that take frequent orders, allowing easy tracking of customer requests and inventory.

2. Choose the Right Size

A4 (210 x 297 mm): Suitable for detailed records and documents that require ample writing space.

A5 (148 x 210 mm): A versatile option that balances portability with enough space for essential details.

3. Choose the Binding Type

Glued Binding: Pages are glued at the top, allowing easy tear-off. Suitable for low-frequency use or when individual sheets are needed.

Perforated Binding: Pages are perforated for easy removal without tearing. Ideal for professional presentation and frequent use.

 Stapled Binding: Pages are stapled together, providing durability and keeping all copies securely in place. Great for documents that need to stay together.

4. Customization Options

Logo and Branding: Add your company logo and branding to create a professional and cohesive look.

Sequential Numbering: Include unique numbers on each form for easy tracking and organization.

 Custom Layouts: Design the layout to include specific fields and information relevant to your business needs.

5. Paper Quality and Color

NCR Paper: No Carbon Required (NCR) paper is standard for duplicate books, ensuring clear and legible copies.

Paper Colors: Choose different colors for each part (e.g., white for the original, yellow for the duplicate, pink for the triplicate) to easily differentiate between copies.

Wraparound Cover: A wraparound cover can be inserted between sets to prevent writing from transferring to the next set.

 Protective Cover: A sturdy cover protects your duplicate book from damage and wear, extending its lifespan.

Customized Fields: Add specific fields relevant to your business, such as VAT numbers, customer IDs, or payment terms.

Choosing the right format for your custom duplicate books can significantly impact the efficiency and professionalism of your business operations. Consider your specific needs, the nature of your transactions, and the customization options available to create the perfect duplicate books for your business. Visit Branded Pads to explore a wide range of custom duplicate books designed to meet your unique requirements.

[kamiversee]

the way i'm trying to be so quick to finish my office work to analyze this fic during company time, with my company letterheaded notepad and my company branded pen. ty for giving me something to do while i wait for my shift to end LMFAO

HELP YW?😭

Glad I gave ya somthin to do ig💀💀

[monstrousgourmandizingcats]

I think it says a lot about early adulthood that I meticulously wrote out the volume titles for the first draft of my most ambitious writing project in between Japanese homework notes in a UMass-branded spiral notebook, and now I've scrawled the volume titles for the first round of top-to-bottom edits on a complimentary notepad from my car insurance company.

And yet there's remarkably little about the story that I'm fundamentally changing. I can still smell what my nineteen-year-old self was cooking. This too is Only Yesterday (1991) dir. Takahata Isao, perhaps.

[ravusnightblossom]

@topmechaniic from here because of Legacy.

 ⚙ *:･ﾟ✧ // As much as she wanted to voice an objection, to possibly stop him from placing the money on the table, it took everything in her to keep the notion as just that.  Hands clasped behind her, lips pressed to a thin line and for a second, all she gave was an affirming nod, though the touch of a sigh did quietly pass through her nose. 

Cindy would simply take up the list and give it a once over.  Some of these items could easily be bought or bartered for, while others she might actually have on hand, especially the mineral oil, if not her, Paw-Paw definitely would have for weapon-smithing.  Another nod, lips gradually pulling to a smile as she runs through the possible places she needed to visit.

          ❝ Alright, I will do my very best. ❞   Smile managed to brighten a little if only to give him some reassurance.  Honestly it would be of no inconvenience to her as she was meaning to venture to Lestallum anyway and she’s helping out a friend in need.  Cindy wished she could convey that more, but knew that this was all still fresh for the both of them.  Some habits were hard to break and others were even harder to fall back into.  Still, with bright demeanor Cindy folded the note with the bills and placed it in her back pocket then walked towards her unfinished tea. 

          ❝ Well while we're gone, ❞   She nods over to Lexus,   ❝ you are of course welcome to anythin' in the kitchen and the laundry room is just past the double doors over there if ya need. ❞   She paused for a moment trying to recall if she was missing anything of importance, brow furrowing just a touch as she sips her drink before pushing it aside entirely.

In a pleased sigh Cindy eventually finished her tea and headed to the sink to rinse out her cup a bit before placing it in the empty dishwasher.  In the moment to gather a few of her things; cell phone, small notepad in case Holly had any ideas for her to sketch out and a few bags to carry whatever she’s able to procure, Cindy gave a couple clicks of her tongue to alert her coeurl companion.  Gradually did the feline rouse from his corner, giving a stretch before padding over to the Mechanic, practically curling himself round her form while nudging the top of his head against her hip.  A soft chuckle when she idly pat Lexus’ side then looked to Ravus.

          ❝ Well, think we’re all set! ❞   With a bright smile she nodded and went for the doors but she stopped short, the faintest laugh leaving her.  In her pause she brought her hand to the top of her head, to where the towel wrapped around her hair still resided.  Cindy’s laughter grew a touch, removing the cloth and letting somewhat damp waves tumble down her shoulders in a wild mane of blonde hair.  Good thing she was going passed the laundry room anyway.  She smiled at the thought, shaking out the mass of hair and turning to Ravus again.

          ❝ Ok, now I think we’re all good! ❞   Cindy beamed with a parting nod,   ❝ See ya in a bit, hun! ❞   And with that does the Mechanic take her leave, placing the wet towel in the washer as she walked through and slipping out the side door of the garage rather than noisily open the front outright.  She let Lexus into the cabin of her truck then hopped in the other side and started up the vehicle to head for Lestallum.

⋞⁘♔⁘⋟ Ravus made his way to the door, watching as the two of them climbed into the truck. It was only once he saw it driving off that he made way back inside. He disliked the idea of her traveling to Lestallum on her own, but at least she had Lexus in her company. He might act like a kitten, but coeurls could take down a man with ease if they were caught off guard. All he could do was trust that they would return safely and with no complications.

In the time they were gone, Ravus busied himself with washing the clothing he had worn since his arrival. Whatever brand of laundry soap Cindy used smelled so nice that he was almost reluctant to use it, as if doing so would take more away from her. Once he convinced himself how irrational of a concern that was, he read the directions and added just the right amount.

After that, he took to the kitchen. For all she had done for him, preparing a meal for her to return home to was the least he could do. What to make, though? A skim through the refrigerator and the cabinets answered part of that, but what for the protein? Decision made, he grabbed his belt and buckled it on before heading out into the darkness behind the garage.

It was surprisingly easy to find some prey to hunt, not even a full half an hour before he came across a flock of cockatrice stumbling about in the darkness. For once, luck was on Ravus' side. A rarity! They fled from him in fear, which was all he needed to confirm that they weren't someone's tamed pets.

It didn't take long for him to prep the kill and season it with what he found in the cabinets. A quarter of the large bird was in the oven with seasoned potatoes and carrots while the rest was portioned into the freezer for the future. There would be more than enough prepared for the two of them and Lexus.

Ravus looked to the clock. It took all his willpower not to pace while he waited for them to return. Instead, he used the rest of his time to move his clean laundry to the dryer, then eventually fold the items.

[myheadhurtscutely]

STAR STATIONARY - Modern!Anakin x Reader

(!teaser!)

C ` Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Summary ` You start your new job as a receptionist today, and it seems like you're already making friends. A blonde boy in particular. How sweet. this is a teaser for the star stationary series in the works, I wanted to get something out for you guys, feedback is welcome :) enjoy!

!Warnings! None atm, Angst to come, and fluff tho

wc ` 585

notes ! this is inspired by characters, Jim and Pam, from a tv show, The Office.

Ding! The elevator finally chimed, indicating your arrival at your new employer. 'Finally!' You thought to yourself, arms crowded with your personal belongings, readily available to decorate your new desk. You were the only person who applied for the boring office job as a receptionist. It was average pay, at a failing company so you figured, it would be okay just for a while. Much to your dismay, as the elevator doors slid open, it revealed the cheap cafe a couple floors below the office. A young man stood outside of the double doors. Tall, dirty blonde, glasses, and absolutely beautiful. If your arms weren't shaking earlier, they definitely were now, along with your knees.

He shyly scooted into the elevator, as if it was full, leaving about an inch or two of space between the both of you. The elevator ride was near silent. Small shuffles and the faint drumming of whatever song was blaring in his headphones was the only white noise to accompany the deafening silence. You peered over at him a couple times through your peripherals, and at some point, you swore you saw him take a glance at you too.

The elevator was coming to a stop, the poor old thing jerked as it completed its job, causing you to stumble out of your carefully modified stance to accommodate the weight in your arms, and drop several nicknacks and papers. How embarrassing. Thankfully, the blonde boy dropped to his knee to retrieve your items, as you profusely apologized for causing a mess. The elevator doors pry open with a screech revealing the carpeted floors and yellow tinted cream walls of the office space. He picks up one last decoration from your collection and holds it up in front of his blue eyes, inspecting with a slight smirk.

"You like Star Wars?" He cocked his eyebrow, meeting your eyes, as the both of you step out of the elevator before it closes. The office was lit with a white light, flickering ever so slightly overhead. Fake potted plants stood at entrances. Desk cluttered on top and around each nook and cranny.

"Um," You hesitate. Was it stupid to be into that kind of thing nowadays? "Yeah. It's one of my favorites." you say hurriedly. He dangles the Yoda charm a moment longer before placing it in an empty coffee mug you were holding onto for dear life with your pinky.

"Me too." He flashes a quick smile and asks if you need help, which you decline. He carries on, walking to a door near the backside of the space. You set your stuff down with a thud on your new desk. A bigger than usual semi-circle, right near the entrance, with accompanying desk to the right of it. You pull out your pens, highlighters, notepads, stickers, everything you brought to personalize your space. Taking your time, even color coding the order of your pens, you wait. What was there to do? What was your task. The phone rang. You look around in a panic, what do you say? Almost as if heaven had sent an angel your way, the blonde guy from earlier returns with a mug in hand. A Star Wars logo branded the front of it. Cute.

He sees your distress and you nod towards him. He makes his way over to you, leaning over your shoulder to grab the telephone. "Hello. Thank you for calling Star Stationary Company, my name is Anakin. How can I help you today?"

Notes ` OMG OMG OMG OMG YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW EXCITED I AM FOR THIS, but anyway I know this is super short but there's just so much in my brain rn, actual brain rot its crazy. The first chapter is going well, its wc is 2k as of right now, i plan to top it off around 10k or so. we'll see. The support has been amazing I love you! <3

tags ` @darthgloris