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klausysworld · 2 years ago

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you can do a one-shot for yandere klaus mikaelson, where Hope is already a teenager and all her life she adored her parents and family and always wished that someone would love her like her father loves her mother *y/n*, but one day he was reading cases of people who had been missing for years and a case in particular of a girl who seems quite familiar to him, and he discovers that this girl is his mother years ago and he starts to investigate and discovers his father's obsession with his mother and that he kidnapped her and kept her with him until she fell in love with him, he also discovered the secret rooms of the mansion that have her mother's stolen belongings and her portraits. Obviously Hope feels cheated and disillusioned and wants to confront her father.

Confusion, Fear, Horror.

Hope knew she was cherished by her family.

Her aunts and uncles fawned over her and brought her the best possible gifts at special occasions.

Her father always called her ‘his hope’ and made sure she knew she could always have whatever she desired.

And her mother…her mother looked at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. She calmed her father whenever he got mad that she was going out with friends. When Hope got home late, her mother would sort everything out. She was like a guardian angel.

So finding an image of her on a ‘missing person’s’ website was a shock. At first she thought maybe it wasn’t her, maybe a doppelgänger of sorts?

So she began to dig.

She certainly wasn’t expecting to find a secret passage way.

To find hundreds of portraits of her mother, stacks of pictures of her doing things as simple as walking down the street to standing in a towel in the window.

Clothes in boxes labelled by the year and dozens of love notes written to y/n from Klaus.

And then a note book…

Mondays ~ 2:30pm she has afternoon tea with male co-worker. Needs to stop.

Tuesdays ~ works until 5pm. Walks home alone. Possible opening.

Wednesdays ~ gets a lift home from work,, varies between three coworkers. Kill all?

Thursdays ~ tight schedule at work-forgets her lunch. Will come in handy when courting.

Fridays ~ half day. Possible date night?

Saturdays ~ often sees friends and/or family. Need to tear her away from this.

Sundays ~ lazy days. Great days to watch her.

She blinked in confusion and slight fear before turning over the page

Favourite colour=y/f/c

Favourite food=y/f/f

Favourite song=y/f/s

Dream job=y/d/j

Favourite things to do=f/s/t

Aspirations=y/a

And so on.

There were pages and pages of information on her.

Hope wanted to believe that he was just an amazing boyfriend. He just loved her so much he made sure write down everything she told him. But then she found the notes

At 2:36pm I watched her go into a mans house.

4:08 I eliminated the problem.

6:29 she had a shower. Left her curtains open.

7:45 she had her dinner. Alone this time-good.

9:13 she put her favourite show on

01:53 she fell asleep on her couch-it’s okay, I moved her to her bed.

She didn’t know what to think. With the amount of times he had written in these books, it’s safe to assume he watched her daily, nightly for months, years on end.

Even after he seemed to ‘get her’, court her, he still watched her. He suspected she would cheat on him, leave him. He was more paranoid than she had ever known him to be.

And the entry he made about ‘taking’ her mother completely through her off course.

She looked through security footage of the dungeons only to watch her own mother scream and fight against her father. They were both hysterical and Hope watched in horror as her father threatened and raged at her mother.

Over the weeks she watched her mother slowly become more obedient and affectionate towards Klaus.

She watched as her mother clung to him in fear that he would leave her alone for days upon end, she noticed her fathers manipulative behaviour from the “how do I know this isn’t some ploy to make me let you go?” To “I just don’t think you truly mean it” Watching her mother beg for him to stay, pleading for him to show her some sort of affection.

She saw how her mother became reliant on him, how she began to love him because he was all she had.

She saw the photos of her mother pregnant, Elijah, Rebekah, Kol and Freya all in the background as Klaus tended to her mothers needs.

Pictures of her as a baby and how her mother sobbed as she held her, the look she had in her eyes when Klaus took Hope from her arms, the fear they held.

Hope didn’t understand.

She saw her parents in whole other light.

Every time Klaus would take something from y/n’s hands and give her a look, the way she would lower her head and apologise and he would remind her to ask before she does.

The certain looks he would give her, almost warning like when she ‘stepped out of line’

It frightened Hope.

She tried to say something to her mother but as soon as Y/n realised she knew, the utter horror on her face was enough to stop Hope.

“Hope- please, you need to be quiet, please my heart, please I promise I’ll keep you safe”

The way y/n would hold her and cry until it was Hope holding her mother and convincing her it was okay

“We can run away”

“I know it’s difficult to understand but…I do…I do love him Hope…I just…do”

Y/n feared for both of them what would happen if Hope spoke out of term. Y/n would never let anything happen to her baby but her baby was strong enough now go protect her mother too.

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mayra-quijotescx · 1 year ago

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I gave zero days' notice and peaced the fuck out from employment with them exactly three years ago today but if I ever stop giving HPL shit, either they got completely overhauled* or I died. So let's get into it!

I've been going downtown at least once a week for the past month to help sling water bottles and fill plates with our local FNB, who you may know from 1. refusing to let people suffer the slow and painful social death penalty of starvation for being unhoused and 2. having our walking bruised ego of a mayor declare war on them for same. The group took their 56th ticket last night. For more info, check out this excellent Texas Observer article.

And every time I went I noticed that Central had fancied itself up; new bike racks, orderly clusters of tables and chairs, big fuckoff flatscreen displaying Library Updates...

...and I also noticed that it looked mighty closed for 7PM on a Wednesday.

So I got nosy and I pulled up the hours tonight. And uh.

You could say they've changed.

Here let me just

OLD SCHEDULE (barring natural disasters... it did happen) Monday thru Thursday: 9AM to 8PM Friday: 9AM to 5PM Saturday: 10AM to 5PM Sunday: 1PM to 5PM

it was also an emergency cooling center back then and isn't now but ohhhhh we won't get into that because I'll never shut up

NEW SCHEDULE Tuesday thru Thursday: 9AM to 6PM Friday: 9AM to 5PM Saturday: 10AM to 5PM Sunday and Monday: CLOSED

excuse me

Now I understand that the system has been hemorrhaging workers for years due to mismanagement by a business-class administration creating a work environment so toxic it could give the gnarliest sludge in the port imposter syndrome, so this could be a literal inability to retain enough staff to keep the main branch open, but admin has also been shamelessly vocal for years about how much they despise the local community (which is the downtown unhoused community) and wish they could be more choosy about who they serve as a (begrudgingly) public service, so this is equally likely to be a policy choice to further cut off who I cannot stress enough is their main patron base at that location and who will continue to be, barring outright revolution, whether the precious petty bourgeoisie who made the baffling choice to all take public service positions like it or not.

Anyway, they can quit bellyaching about wanting more families at their ~public asset~ (snarl chomp growl biting them biting them biting them) because even with the original hours, my former coworkers and I puzzled over how to get even families willing to pay for parking to brave the freeways and traffic to get to us before closing. At 8PM. Now? Virtually the only way someone with kids is getting there before the gates get slammed shut is if they're sleeping outside. And those aren't the families the gossamer-skinned Apple-exec LARPers in admin want to serve. So they can truly shut the fuck up about Making Central Family-Friendly(TM).

And FNB doesn't start distributing until a solid hour and a half at most after closing time, assuming the library was even open that day to begin with, so they can shut the fuck up about it ~making them look bad~ too. Just my $0.02, adjusted for inflation.

*Harris County Public Library workers, if you're reading this and willing/able/planning to launch a hostile takeover of the HPL system, I will support you in every possible capacity, up to and including giving my life in the line of duty. Call me. My one condition is that I want to plant a giant trans flag in the middle of the Central Plaza when we finally liberate it from the tyrants. And I want the director to watch.

#arguably I served out a notice period of five months bc my department head Knew I was Done and supported my exit but. semantics.#this fucking place man #houston sure is a place #just when I thought I was out... they pull me back in (to being mad. not into working there again. god no. never.)

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money5you · 1 year ago

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White collar people get Saturday and Sunday off, and service workers get Monday off, and, like, plumbers don't get days off. The weekend will just not work because the white collar people want service workers to serve them and then need the plumbers to also serve them but it has to be on a day when they're not working so there's always just people working 5-9 and on the weekend which is when everyone assumes that EVERYONE is frollicking come ON

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gypsy-ainsley · 2 years ago

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I got tingles and chills and sweat in bed from my new job and tomorrow a medical team is scheduled to visit.

I’m staying home from work today, but they never answer the phone. Someone else can easily fill in there. There are a number of workers, and I just make sides.

I found them at the top online and gave them my health plans, Ohio Medicaid and Ohio’s Buckeye. They’ll come here sometime from 8 AM to 10 PM. I am not scheduled to work tomorrow. I’m technically supposed to go Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning and not sure about later.

I feel better sitting in my chair.

The government is not enough help. They assumed my dead parents or family and relatives would help. They just agitated me and I was in bad environments and could not think. I was starved in 2 group homes away from anyone for 10 months and could not leave. I got in debt for groceries then DoorDash thinking I could pay back passing a class to sell insurance. $6,000. I wanted to cut government benefits so I could chose a type of job generally offered as full time since I have a limit otherwise while on benefits. However then I’d start off with less and not be able to pay the debt.

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fictionalhubbydreamer · 2 years ago

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One-Shot part 1

Old One Shot with Donnie

This lovely young lady named Taya-Maye was once resident along the shores of Japan. Apart from her unusual name, she worked hard to earn her keep. By night she is a nurse at a hospital and by day works at a bar of all places. Only two days she gets off are Saturdays and Sundays...unless her co worker at the bar is been an ass then bails on her. They done that before, on a stormy Saturday of all days!. The fact she works so hard is rather evident, especially if she doesn't put foundation on.

Though unfortunately one night at the bar, her sleep deprivation caught up with her when she collapsed from overexhaustion. It only happened as she pretended to listen to a REALLY drunk dude rambling on about the big basketball game coming up. With less than 3 hours of sleep between jobs in the weekdays, this was bound to happen. There was only one problem, the dude was gonna try take advantage of this moment dragging her into the alley out back. However she fought back albeit weakly, as soon as this creep pressed her back against the wall trying to keep her from screaming a rather loud clutter nearby got his attention. This moment, even though she was half unconscious she used this time to get him with her knee where the sun don't shine.

This pissed him off that he had kicked her on the shoulder, in a sloppy attempt to get her chest. Suddenly silence, only her ragged breathing and her pulse heard loud and clear in her ears. She froze when someone gently touched her shoulder, maybe to check how badly injured she was.

"Miss, can you hear me? Is your shoulder in too much pain to move?" This unknown voice asked. He sounded much like a doctor thats more focused on pain levels first, then only on moving patients.

"My brother knocked the guy out. It was pretty easy considering he was under the influence." This stranger rambled a bit, however she didn't mind. He and his brother saved her life.

"Hey Don, you do know she's cold right? She's shaking like a God Damn leaf right now." The brother she assumed spoke up.

Donnie then as he was known seemed to have perked up real quick, then picks her up into his arms following his brother someplace.

Taya however after a few minutes ,passes out from again sheer exhaustion and pain. She woke up in someone elses apartment this time. Looking around a moment, she noted that apart from the nest of pillows and blankets that she could barely move from it was late at night still.

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #fanfiction #bayverse #donnie

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shecalleditsavagery · 1 year ago

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He didn't, though. USPS doesn't deliver mail on Sundays. What he said no to were the Amazon contracts that were not originally part of the job he signed up for. He picked a job that originally would accommodate his religious beliefs, and when the requirements of the job began to conflict with that, he tried to negotiate his schedule to minimize the hardship on his co-workers without invalidating his own beliefs.

I get it. American society is built to accomodate Christians in ways it doesn't accomodate other faith traditions, so it's easy to assume favoritism when looking at something like this. But as a Jew who has lost out on employment opportunities because I won't work on Friday nights and Saturdays, this gives me leverage with my employer, because now I can point to the legal presedent and my employer will know that fighting me will result in a legal cost and bad press.

It's not unreasonable to tell your employer that you will not work all 7 days a week. It is not unreasonable to have the same day off every week. It is unreasonable to expect someone to sacrifice their religious practices over something as trivial as shitty scheduling practices. Your employer doesn't have the right to dictate how you life your life.

Another case where a Christian picks a job they know in advance they were going to refuse to do and then they don't have to do the job and somehow the people expecting them to do a job they took of their own free will are found to be in the wrong.

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batmenstrualcycle · 2 years ago

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gay and romantic - {Maki Z.}

Maki Zenin x Logical! Reader (basically light yagami + armin arlert + female body + very flirty = you!1!1 <33)

Chapter 1 - Another Incident

“Hello mother, where’s dad?”

I asked as I walked through the door that led to the kitchen on the left and the living room straight ahead. She turned around and looked at me from the corner of the manilla wall and smiled then answered, “He was called back on shift, there’s been another incident” She answered lightly, but the slightly cheery tone couldn’t mask the slight loneliness that was evident on the edges and corners of her well-framed face.

I nodded before taking off my shoes and setting them right by the door and heading upstairs to my room to do my homework. But before I opened my door, I back tracked to my older cousin’s door and kicked it, earning a low, loud groan from him.

“Leave me alone, Y/n” He grumbled from behind the door. I chuckled and kicked it again then finally headed towards my room.

♥

Perhaps a couple hours later, I looked up from the book I was reading and looked at my clock and noticed that it was 10:30 at night. I huffed then got up from my spot and went to go do my nightly routine, then got back in bed and kept reading.

I heard the front door open and shut with a small ‘bang,’ indicating that it was probably my dad who’d just walked in. I huffed once again and closed my book after marking my spot and left my room to glide down the stairs to find my dad sitting at the table in the dining room across from the kitchen, reading over some paper.

“Hello father, is that the report from some other incident that happened in the city?” I asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from him. He looked up at me through the edges of both his glasses and the paper sitting in front of him, then smiled. “Yes, it is. How was your day, Y/n?” He asked smoothly. I smiled back at him. “It was good. What was the incident this time?”

His smile slightly fell, then he went back to reading the paper. “Even though it’s a fairly good city, even Tokyo has its darker parts.” He answered, as if to inform me of something. Of what, though?

“Another murder case, I assume?” I replied with somewhat of the same tone. His eyebrows knit together slightly before looking up at me, letting the paper drop slightly to show his puzzled face. “Seems to be, though I’m not sure I would call it that.” He answered. I lifted a brow before he handed me the paper. “I wonder what your co-workers would think of this, letting your daughter read over information disclosed only between staff of the Tokyo Police Department” I lightly joked, skimming through the words on the paper. He chuckled with me.

I stopped chuckling once I got to the description of the body that was reported. It was described in such a way that made it sound like a completely different species from human.

“..They’re sure a human did all this?” I questioned, handing him back the paper. He nodded before flipping the page to the next one. “Yes. And since this is the third one this week, they’re setting up a curfew for 8 o’clock Monday through Friday, and 10 o’clock on Saturday’s and Sunday’s. It’s not official yet, but they’re considering it.” He explained. “And given how stubborn the government is, it’ll probably be mandated within the next two weeks, I’m guessing.” I replied. He nodded in agreement.

I sighed then leaned back and rested my arms behind my head. He looked up at me once again. “Hey, Y/n, you’re pretty smart..and I’m sure the police force wouldn’t mind seeing you again, would you maybe want to come with me to work tomorrow?” He suggested. I immediately leaned forward to the table and looked him dead in the eye. “Me? Come with you to work?” I repeated. He nodded, “I figured it’d be nice, a change of pace from school, and also because it’s a Saturday tomorrow, so why not?”

“YES! YES YES YES! I’VE ALWAYS WANTED TO SEE A REAL LIFE CRIME SCENE AND NOT THOSE PHONY ONES FROM CRIMINAL MINDS!” I cheered, getting up from my chair and jumping up and down. He chuckled then told me to sit down.

I sighed happily after sitting back down at the table.

♥

My alarm went off at 4:30, as I set it to that time just before I went to bed last night. I turned off my alarm and sprang up out of bed to get my clothes on, then sped downstairs to meet my dad who was fixing his tie.

“Hey sport, you ready?” He asked, turning to me with a smile. I grinned back and nodded my head.

“Yep! Can’t wait to become the youngest detective in

---

(me)

LMAOOO i decided to not post this on wattpad since i knew one of my friends would bully THE LIVING SHIT outta me for making my 1000th maki story

#maki zenin x reader #maki x reader #jujutsu kaisen #nobara kugisaki #fushiguro megumi #gojo satoru #itadori yuuji #nanami kento #inumaki toge #okkotsu yuta #jjk x you

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vodid · 2 years ago

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Yo post office woes for real - i dont have a car but i thought hey i can ask my friend to take me like once in a while or something (i make some stuffs i thought would be cool to sell, figured could have a designated shipping day each month or whatever)... i looked into my local post offices .....welp none of the places near me (there are like 14 locations) not one of them even got 2 star rating. Then i gotta look at mailers and postage and weight and padding so it doesnt break etc etc. And with 1.8 or 1.4 or 1.3 star ratings - out of hundreds of reviews - i dont hold much hope for the post office to help much. And figuring out shipping is just so shut down button for my adhd/asd brain. If it isn't as easy as stuff thing in package, stuff package in mail, my brain is like nope XD

ough yeah post offices tend to have low ratings (really, what post office has a good rating?) because people w negative opinions are generally more outspoken than those with positive opinions, especially if it's like. one very specific issue/person they're upset about. i would take it with a grain of salt — my post office is pretty average but it gets the job done just fine. there have been wonderful workers there and workers that are just doing their job

but uRGH yes. i do not have my car yet (and of course when i DO get my car, there's a problem with it.) so i have to wait until either of my parents gets home to take their car ...but most times, they don't get home until close to or after 5 pm .....after the post office closes. and they're closed on sundays (funny enough, the day i'm most active) so saturday is that sweet spot ..but every other week, i'm not awake during the day! 😭 it's a whole struggle.

honestly, i would go with the closest post office to you that has a 24/7 kiosk. absolute LIFESAVER (even if it's sometimes down for maintenance) it's wonderful for if there's a line, you don't wanna talk to people or the post office is closed. my kiosk, and i assume a lot of others, unfortunately don't have an international option BUT usps offers online services for international postage :'D

i've had my store running for a little over a year now and i'll tell you, yes. it is TERRIFYING to start a store! i knew absolutely nothing besides what my mom could tell me (she works at a printing company that ships things often, so she helped me figure out shipping prices) and i'm constantly working on improving my packaging. fun stuff! best of luck to you friend :') you got this!

#only one (1) post office in my general vicinity has a 4 star rating. amazing.

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celestialrry · 4 years ago

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more than a melody

7k (longest I’ve done so far!)

summary: You and Harry are roommates, and he finds himself crushing on you, even though he really shouldn't be. (college!harry au)

warnings: nothing, just incredibly cute

When Harry had put out a listing for a roommate for his apartment, he remembered putting how he didn't prefer the gender of his roommate, and well, because he was a boy and he lived in a heterosexual-normative world, he had assumed another boy would contact him.

That is where it went a little off-course. You had approached him where you both worked, the record store (Harry had just gotten the job a few weeks ago), and you had asked about it. The two of you talked about it for a while, and after you toured the flat, you both decided you would be his new roommate and move in that week. Of course, you were cautious about moving into a flat with a man you barely knew, however charming he may be. You had watched enough Criminal Minds to be rightfully nervous, and it seemed Harry read your mind when he gave you his friends numbers, Sarah and Mitch, to talk about it. You had met up with them, and your worries had soon faded away, and well, you had a lock on your bedroom door.

Once you had moved in, over the next few weeks the two of you had made a little routine. You both had morning shifts at the shop, Wednesday through Saturday, and morning classes almost every other day of the week but Sunday. It started when the two of you had a shift you needed to get to and found yourselves standing in front of the only bathroom in the apartment.

“G’morning.” Harry mumbled blearily, and you responded the same, trying not to look anywhere but his face, as he was clad in only a pair of black briefs and a black t-shirt. You checked the time on your phone and cursed in your head, only 15 minutes until you needed to leave to get to work. “Let’s just brush our teeth together really fast and then we can do everything else after, yeah?” You had suggested, to which Harry agreed and opened the bathroom door for you to walk in first. As he walked in, he grabbed his pink toothbrush out of the plastic holder and after putting toothpaste on it and wetting it, he began to brush his teeth. You found it ironic that the man who solely wore black skinny jeans and band t-shirts had a pink toothbrush, but found it slightly adorable.

You grabbed your green one and did the same, and soon deciding to multi-task. You reached around Harry’s torso for your hair brush, and brushed through with one hand, the other still brushing your teeth. Suddenly Harry felt as if he should be doing something else too, and decided to simply run a hand through his curls, that were beginning to reach his shoulder, as brushing them out would make it far worse.

He then began to run the water and spit out his toothpaste, cupping a hand and filling it with water, bringing it back up to his mouth and swishing it around before spitting it out again. As he reached for the little folded hand towel on the counter he used for this and patted his mouth, you did the same as him.

It happened nearly every morning, you would both say a quiet good morning, then brush your teeth together in silence, and of course, Harry ended up putting on pants before the restroom, but his shirt had been lost along the way. It was never awkward or anything, and you oddly got a lot of joy by seeing him almost every morning. On this particular day you had stayed up until 4 a.m. studying for a test you had in the morning, and Harry had picked up an extra shift at the record store because a co-worker had called in sick. As you both walked into the restroom, Harry watched as you began to brush your teeth and close your eyes for a minute while doing do, swaying a bit so you won’t fall down.

It was painstakingly obvious you were tired, but Harry found your actions endearing. He was able to freely look at you because you couldn’t see him, obviously. You looked adorable, mouthful of toothpaste, and your arm wrapped around your waist. He just wanted to kiss you all over your face to wake you up and- he shook his head, eyes darting back to himself in the mirror. He couldn't think like that. He barely knew you, and you lived together.

It wasn't like the two of you never talked, when you had work together you would usually switch off drivers and carpool. But not once had you had a conversation truly getting to know one another and its already been 2 months. Harry had yet to see you as friend, not because he didn’t want that of course, hell, he wanted to get to know you more than anything, but neither of you had yet to suggest bonding time.

When you both were done brushing your teeth, you had splashed water on your face in an attempt to wake up a bit more. It didn’t work as you pat your face dry and sighed, looking into the mirror at your puffy eyes, rubbing them a bit with a pout.

Harry was positive it took everything out of him not to wrap you in a massive hug and and kiss the pout off of your lips. This would be the death of him. He immediately turned away, walking back out and into his room to calm down. This was just a harmful crush that would go away in weeks time, he was sure of it.

✧˖*°࿐

Harry was wrong.

About a week later, the two of you had yet to connect, but every time he laid eyes on you, he wanted you more than anything he could possibly think of. It was terrifying, but it had been a while since he felt this way for anyone. It was like he was in the honeymoon stage of a crush, but instead of it being bliss, it was embarrassment every time he opened his mouth.

Harry was utterly tongue-tied every time he spoke around you and his cheeks flushed a pink tint. Luckily for him, it seemed you were absolutely oblivious to it. You were so oblivious, in fact, that you thought he didn't even like you as an acquaintance or roommate, considering he rarely ever spoke to you.

Things would soon change for the better, you both hoped, and eventually you got tired of waiting. “Harry?” You asked one morning, after you spit out your toothpaste and wiped your mouth.

He stoped running his hands through his hair and his head almost snapped towards you. “Yeah?” He asked, pretending like his heart wasn't beating out of his chest. He was actually quite afraid you would see it, as he wasn't wearing a shirt this morning, or any other morning after he has started wearing pants and well, it took a while for you to not drool after you saw his bare front, littered with tattoos, on his chest, tummy, shoulders and arms. It really didn't help that his abs were prominent, and every time he leaned down to wash his face, you could see his back muscles ripple under his skin-

“Um,” You shook yourself out of the trance you had gotten into and continued. “We should like, hangout and actually get to know each other-you don’t have to at all-but I mean, I wanna get to know you, we’re living together, you know?” You suggested, trying to calm yourself down and accept the response of “I don't want to.”

Instead, Harry had bit his bottom lip to stop his smile from reaching his ears and he nodded. “I-I think we should too, when, um, I mean, uh, what do y’wanna do?” He mentally cursed himself for stumbling over his words, he was such a fool.

You hesitated for a second, looking down his body involuntarily as your gazed reached the floor. “We could just make food together and then have dinner here one night? When are you free?” You said, looking back up at him.

He flushed as your eyes ran up and down his body. He didn't feel insecure, just a little more exposed than he should. He was shirtless in front of you all the time, it truly made no difference and you didn't seem to mind. “Um, yeah, that sounds really good, I-I can do tomorrow night actually,” He spoke slowly, his arms wrapping around himself. “What would y’like to eat? I can go to the store this afternoon.”

“Oh! Perfect, Saturday night is free for me too,” You grinned. “I really don’t care, as long as its decently easy to make, you choose.”

He confirmed a meal with you before nodding and stepping out to change before walking into the kitchen to grab his car keys and waiting for you. It was his turn to drive the two of you to work. You popped out in some jeans and a t-shirt, grinning at Harry as he opened the front door for you.

Today was already off to a great start, he thought as he watched you hop in his car and ramble about some new artist you had found called Edward Rags. What a stupid name, Harry Styles thought.

Soon enough it was Saturday night, and you had both agreed there was no need to dress nice, you’ve already seen each other in pajamas so there was no point, and you showed up in pajama shorts and a t-shirt, whereas Harry went for sweatpants and a t-shirt as well. He had turned on his playlist, with an awful lot of older music and you both started cooking dinner, singing along to some parts and moving around to others.

The two of you had talked about family, what you were both studying in uni, friends, what you did in your free-time, and got into a particularly long conversation about how you believed the Notebook, the book, was astronomically better than the movie. Harry disagreed, and tried to keep himself civil without popping a vein in his neck. “It’s a cinematic masterpiece!” He had exclaimed, resulting in you rolling your eyes, and going back to stir the food in the pot. “The best movie in the world would be nowhere near as good as the best book in the world, Harry.” God, he loved the way his name sounded coming from your mouth, imagine what it would sound like if you moa- another head shake. Harry’s imagination was getting out of control.

Before he had the chance to respond, Jealous Guy by Donny Hathaway started playing and you looked over at Harry with a large smile on your face. “I love this song.” You simply said, turning back to the pot. Harry mustered up the courage and tapped you on your shoulder, his hand out, and body partially bowed. “Would y’care for a dance?” He asked, his dimples showing.

You grinned and took his hand as he brought the two of you into a slow dance.

I was dreaming of the past,

And my heart was beating fast.

I began to lose control,

I began to lose control.

The two of you swayed to the song, looking at each other resulting in the two of you bursting out laughing. His hand held yours up, with his hand lightly placed on your waist. “I’m just a jealous guy.” You both softly sang, grinning wide. After more laughs and singing along, the song was over, and harry let go of your hand, his own slowly moving from your waist. He would give anything to kiss you he was sure, but instead opted to comment on your dancing skills and received a swat to the bicep.

Soon, dinner was made, and the two of you sat at the dining table for four, talking about everything you both could possibly think of. It was never awkward, which you were extremely grateful for, and after a few hours, it seemed as though the two of you had known each other for years. You had found yourselves sitting on the couch, facing each other, your legs on top of his, and his arm resting on your knees.

“So once I’m more stable I’m gonna ask to have Evie, she loves me way more too, how would you feel about living with a cat?” Harry asked, his eyes boring into your own. If he could paint, he was positive you would be the only thing he ever painted.

“I’d love that, I can’t wait to meet her.” You smiled, yawning. Harry took notice of your yawn and looked at the clock. Almost 12 a.m.. “We should probably get to bed.” he suggested, moving his arm off of your legs, allowing you to swing your legs off of his own. You nodded, yawning once again, Harry catching it and yawning after you. You laughed a bit, and stood up, stretching before facing Harry, who now stood in front of you.

“Okay,” You said, looking up at him, “Goodnight Harry, I had a lot of fun.” You said, about to turn around. “Me too,” He said, hesitating a bit before wrapping his arms around you in a hug. Your eyes widened, you weren't expecting a hug, but after feeling it, you wouldn’t want anything else. “Goodnight, sweet dreams.” He mumbled, pulling away slightly and then gently pressing a kiss to your forehead. You smiled and the two of you parted ways, walking to your respective rooms. Little did the other know, the two of you were both feeling the same way.

✧˖*°࿐

It had been a couple months since that dinner, and it was safe to say the two of you had grown incredibly close. Harry seemed to always find a way to touch you, whether it be grabbing onto your hand to drag you somewhere, putting his hand at the small of your back to guide you through a crowd, making sure his thigh touched your own whenever the two of you sat next to each other, or wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walked somewhere. He just wanted to be near you, and you felt the same. You could call him one of your best friends and he could do the same. Now that he knew you though? It just made his little crush a thousand times worse, and he found himself thinking of you more than anything else throughout the day.

In addition to wanting to feel you all the time, after he kissed you on the forehead, he quite literally got addicted to kissing you. All over your face, he had kissed your cheeks, nose, but never your lips. He found himself thinking about that a lot, what it would be like to actually kiss you. If he enjoyed kissing your cheeks this much, he knew that if he kissed you on your lips, he would never stop. But his consciousness stopped him from making a move, because the two of you were roommates. What happened if you started dating, then broke up? The two of you would have to move out, and make what would just be a breakup, so much worse.

It never stopped him from daydreaming though. He had picked up another extra shift at the record shop on Sunday, the day the two of you were both free, and was driving back to the flat, where he knew you would be studying. He passed all the familiar buildings, until one shop caught his eye. A flower shop, and in front of it there were bouquets of all sorts, but the sunflowers entranced him. He quickly got into the other lane and turned into the parking lot, getting out and making his way to the shop. He looked at the sunflowers, and thought of you. You were probably frustrated because of your class and scrunching your nose at the questions you didn't know the answer to. But you were like his sunflower, bright and beautiful, and the flowers might help your frustration. He grabbed the bouquet and paid for it, driving back to the flat with the flowers in his passenger seat.

He opened the door, bouquet behind his back, where he saw you on your laptop on the couch, running your hands through your hair. “Hey lovie, what’s goin’ on?” He asked, walking up to you. You sighed, looking up at him from your uncomfortable position on the couch. “Studying for this stupid test that really doesn't matter, but apparently to Professor Eden it matters a lot.” Harry pouted at your distress and brought the flowers into view. “M’sorry, let’s take a break. Also, thought this would cheer y’up a bit, they reminded me of you.” He mumbled, looking anywhere but you.

Your eyes widened as you saw the sunflowers and tears of overwhelming emotions threatened to spill out of your eyes. You scrambled up and took them out of his large hand, gently placing them down on the coffee table before practically jumping on Harry to give him a hug. “Oh my god H, thank you. You’re too sweet.” You said, pulling away from the hug to kiss him on the cheek. He flushed and just smiled, telling you it was no big deal.

You had put the flowers in a vase and set them on the kitchen counter, and during the next few days, you couldn’t stop the smile on your face when you saw them. On Tuesday you got back from your morning class around lunch time, and walked in the flat to see Harry in a t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, baking what looked like cupcakes, and humming to some song that was playing that he had showed you about a week ago.

“Harry? Whatcha doing?” You asked, and he jumped, turning around to see you setting your bag on the counter. “Jesus,” He said your name. “Scared the living’ shit outta me. M’just baking cupcakes, felt kinda cupcakey today.” He shrugged, going back to frosting them with yellow icing. “Cupcakey?” You raised a brow at the term.

“Cupcakey.” he confirmed, giving you a dimpled grin.

You just nodded and walked up to sit on the stools the two of you had placed at the counter, facing Harry and watching him look down at the dozen cupcakes, his tounge sticking out a bit in concentration as he carefully made swirls of icing.

“Can I try some?” You asked, sticking your finger out so he could put a dollop of icing on your finger. He looked up and nodded, doing as you expected him to before getting back to work. You looked at the untouched icing on your finger before looking back at Harry, your brain encouraging you to put it on the tip of his nose. You grinned to yourself and called his name, and as soon as he looked up you reached your finger out and wiped the icing on his nose. His eyes widened and crossed a bit as he looked down to his nose then to you. You laughed, and he thought it sounded like the most gorgeous melody in the world.

“You’re gonna regret that, love.” He said, wiping a bit of the icing off his nose but not all of it. You just laughed again, your eyes closing for a split second, and in that split second, Harry had gently pulled you off the stool and taken you back into the kitchen. “No! Please, please, I’m sorry.” You laughed, begging as he held you tight by the waist and used his other hand to hold the piping bag, slowly starting to squeeze it and holding it above your face. “Are you really? Doesn’t seem like it, pet.” He teased, the icing coming out of the cut plastic.

You shook your head and looked up at him, spotting the icing on his nose. “Let me make it up to you.” You said, holding onto his arm that was holding the weapon of sunshine-colored icing.

“How?” He asked, raising a brow. You leaned up and pecked his nose getting most of the icing off, before licking it off your lips quickly. He froze, and your eyes widened. He didn’t want that, you thought. As you opened your mouth to apologize he dropped the piping cone onto the counter and held your jaw with his free hand, leaning in and finally kissing you. Your lips slotted perfectly with his and he never wanted to stop. When the two of you pulled away his cheeks flushed, “I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked-”

You cut him off by kissing him once more. “It’s okay. Better than okay, actually.”

He smiled wide and kissed you once more, “M’never gonna get tired of this, Sunflower.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years ago

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Day 21: Prinxiety (pt 2)

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 21: Combine two soulmate prompts. (This will make sense soon, I promise.)

It’s the sequel you’ve all been waiting for! This is the second part to day 16 (read that first!!!!!), and y’all finally get to see what happened to Virgil! Please heed the trigger warnings below.

TRIGGER/content WARNINGS!! Anxiety, food mention, crappy foster system/group homes, implied past abuse, religious guilt/negative view of religion, homophobia, conversion therapy/abuse, starvation, sneaking medication (antipsychotics/side effects), electrocution, seizure, ambulance. I’m sorry.

Word count: 3.8k

Unlike most kids in the foster system, Virgil didn’t know his birthday. He knew it was sometime in December, but that didn’t do much. Technically, birthdays weren’t really a huge thing anyways, not when the group home he rarely left was awfully underfunded, and a party came second to little things like working sinks and clothes without holes. Even still, all the other kids at least got a little cupcake and a half hearted birthday song on their special day, and his festivities were pushed onto Christmas. He didn’t get a weak excuse for a celebration, because the other kids ‘found it unfair’ that he got that and Christmas in the same month. To prevent an upheaval, the workers told him that he’d just have to be happy with what he got.

But it wasn’t fair, because some kids got Easter and a birthday, or Halloween and a birthday, or New Years and a birthday, and poor Virgil didn’t. The fact of the matter was, they plain didn’t like him. The other kids didn’t like that he got extra free time because of his anxiety, or was allowed to leave the table when they weren’t, and they especially didn’t like he was the youngest of the bunch. The youngest had the highest chance of getting adopted, it was just facts, so they had seemingly decided that if his stay here would be the shortest, it would be the most tortured.

It wasn’t the shortest stay, though. With his barrage of anxiety related issues and group-home-toughened demeanor, no foster home wanted to deal with him. He was snarky, ran away, regularly got in fights with the biological children of the parents, and was promptly labeled a problem child. Eventually, it was deemed easier for him to just stay in a group home until he outgrew the system, since he seemed set to escape every other place. Virgil tried to pretend it didn’t hurt as much as it did; it was his fault, after all. As he watched all his older tormentors grow out of a crooked system, he resigned himself to the same fate. After all, he was almost sixteen now, and he knew his chances were out. So he stayed stuck in his group home, lashing out at his caretakers and therapists, refusing to eat unless it was alone in his room (technically, three kids slept in there, but he so rarely left it, and they wanted to avoid him, it was unofficially deemed his room), and listening to music on his phone.

He’d been given the phone on his fifteenth birthday, a gift from one of his caretakers. It was the cheapest piece of crap he’d ever seen, glitched out every other minute and needed to be charged at least three times a day, but it was a phone nonetheless. Granted, he had no one to text. But he had access to a computer, a totally one hundred percent legal music downloading website, and a strong sense of determination, so he’d soon filled the phone’s entire measly storage with all the music he could cram on the thing.

That’s what he was doing on the night of December 18th, listening to his “Emo Playlist” on a pair of $4 Dollar Store earbuds, laying on his bed and finding shapes in his popcorn ceiling as the moon shone through the window. In the bunk beds across the room from him, his two other roommates were fast asleep, but he couldn’t follow suit. It was sadly normal for Virgil to have sleepless nights where no matter what, his anxious brain just wouldn’t shut off, and it just felt like one of those nights. His hands shook and his eyelids flinched every few seconds for no reason, so he turned the music just a little bit louder and tried to calm his breathing.

It was just past 1 am when his life changed forever.

He was on the fourth cycle of his playlist, eyes no more heavy than hours before and just as flinchy. It was just entering the “existential crisis” time of the night where he started questioning reality, and he was about to give in and start letting his mind drift to darker places, when a song distinctly not his began to play in the midst of a song switch.

How can you miss someone you’ve never met?

Because I need you now but I don’t know you yet,

But can you find me soon, because I’m in my head,

Yeah, I need you now but I don’t know you yet.

He froze, eyes suddenly wide open, and yanked the earbuds out of his ears. The song continued; not in his headphones, but in his head. It didn’t take an idiot to realize that it was his soulmate, responding, and as an afterthought, Virgil suddenly identified that today was probably his birthday. Both amazing revelations, but one was slightly more time sensitive.

Desperately scrolling through his playlists as the song stopped after the chorus, he tried to find a song that would be an adequate introduction to this new person. When his eyes landed on a song from his Adele phase (he didn’t talk about that time) that he hadn’t had the energy to delete yet, he simultaneously groaned and grinned. Subtly meme-y, heartfelt like the song his soulmate had played, a decent greeting. He tapped play.

Hello,

It’s me.

He hoped his soulmate had the same sense of humor of him and had actually given a laugh, since he was trying to stifle laughter behind his sleeve to avoid waking the sleeping kids. He paused after the first verse, since he didn’t really want to remember that phase of his life more than he had to, and waited for the other to play the next song. Hopefully they could work out some sort of rhythm, play songs back and forth. He for sure wouldn’t be able to sleep now.

(The next song his soulmate played was an almost atrocious obviously-musical-theatre song that almost made Virgil hit his head against the wall, so he retaliated with a favorite of his, the most ear assaulting screamo he could find on his playlist.)

The clock had just passed four in the morning when there was a small pause in the routine, before his soulmate played a children’s lullaby. It definitely wasn’t something you’d listen to in everyday life, so Virgil could only assume it was the other’s way of indicating that they had to sleep. As if I’m going to let you go that easily, Virgil smirked, opening YouTube and begging that the video he’d chosen would play without an ad.

It did, filling his crackling, cheap earbuds with the opening chorus of Baby Shark. Fight fire with fire, he decided, chuckling to himself as he turned off the song just before the ‘mommy shark’ verse. Silence filled his head and he mentally wished the other a good night, turning onto his stomach and screaming into his pillow, grinning madly.

Eight months later, their new way of life was deeply imbedded into him; getting woken up at asscrack o’clock in the morning by a worker who wanted to be there as much as he did, and either playing his morning playlist to get himself slightly more ready to face another monotonous day or waiting in silence until his soulmate woke up and played their own music. He’d begrudgingly started to even enjoy the showtunes. Everyone around the home had noticed his gradual shift in attitude, and he couldn’t help the natural smiles that pulled at his cheeks when a new song played out of nowhere. It got to the point where his therapist noticed his lifted mood, and the other kids stopped avoiding him and, unknown to Virgil, his social workers decided that he was ready to try another foster home.

That’s why, eight months later, there was a knock on his bedroom door and his main worker poked in her head, asking him to come downstairs. He’d been playing music for his soulmate, so he silently apologized and joined her at the dining room table, giving her a half hearted smile.

“Virgil, we’ve found a new home for you. A foster home that specializes in… harder to place cases. They’ve opened their doors to you, and we’re hoping to get you into a trial period there within the next week.”

At first, Virgil vehemently refused. No. He didn’t want to go back to foster homes, not after… everything he went to in the first few. The ones that hurt him, the ones that were more densely crowded than group homes, the ones that turned him into the angry shell he was before he had met a sign of a possibly happy future. He didn’t want to lose the progress he’d made.

But Bev looked so hopeful, so pleadingly at him, that he gave in after three days of denying. He said goodbye to the kids he’d unfortunately grown attached to, threw his few belongings into a black garbage bag, and got into his worker’s car for the first time in years. Just rebuckling that seatbelt caused a shudder to run up his spine.

------1 month later------

“Virgil, what are you doing? Do you have earbuds in? We’ve made it abundantly clear that you are not to have technology at the table.”

Virgil fought every urge in his body to roll his eyes, flicking his hair behind his ears to show they were empty. It had gotten long and shaggy, just reaching his jaw in the back. “No earbuds. My soulmate’s listening to music, and it’s catchy.” Frankly, he was surprised he hadn’t been caught bopping along to silence before by the stiflers.

They were nice enough, a woman and a man and their two biological children, but they were too religious for Virgil’s liking. He’d never had qualms with religion before, but he had grown tired of spending Saturdays and Sundays (his only days off from their homeschool regime) in a church, surrounded by older people singing repetitive songs and being yelled at by a guy on the pulpit. Faking being sick only worked so many times before they refused to listen to his excuses. They also insisted he go to a specialized youth group on Tuesdays, but that was easy enough to escape. He just waved by and booked it to the closest 7/11 when they left, making sure he was back at the church by the time it was over and made up some bullshit about the gathering. Jameson, the attendant at the gas station, was becoming the closest friend he’d ever had.

“Your soulmate?” One of the children asked around a bite of toast, spitting a decent amount onto Virgil’s sleeve.

“Like daddy and I, Mariam.” The woman explained briefly, not bothering to chastise her about speaking with her mouth full.

“Yeah.” Unlike most of the kids at his old group home, he wasn’t warming up to theirs. They were too spoiled, too bratty. One had even bit him in his first week here and he was still bitter about it.

“When did you connect with yours, Virgil?” The question wasn’t asked kindly, more for the sake of being polite, and he assumed if he didn’t answer in an equally polite tone, they’d probably make him paint a fence or something.

He knew they cared about his bond about as much as he did about theirs. Which was approximately none. The mom took her children’s empty plates and placed them in the sink, Virgil quickly following suit. No use losing more computer time because he didn’t clean his plate.

“Last December. I didn’t even know it was my birthday, and they started playing music out of nowhere. It was pretty cool.” He finished rinsing off his plate and was confused at the sudden stillness in the room.

“‘They’?” The mom asked, giving her husband what she must have believed to be a subtle glance.

“Uhm… yeah?” Virgil said slowly, “I’m bisexual. So I’m not sure if my partner’s a guy or a girl or… something in between. So… they?”

He stared with rising anxiety as the two parents had a silent interaction over the kitchen island, before the dad stood up. “Kids, plates in the sink and then go get ready for church. Virgil, you too.”

There was minimal whining as the younger ones did as they were asked, racing each other up the stairs. Virgil followed, slower, listening to hushed beginnings of a conversation, unable to fight the feeling that he’d just royally fucked up.

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

“Virgil, may we speak with you for a moment?”

He froze, slowly turning from where he’d been half way up the stairs. They’d just wrapped up lessons for the day (Virgil never thought he’d miss an actual school building before, but alas) and the kids had been excused, leaving just him and the parents behind. It had been almost a week since the incident, and a part of him had been hoping they’d just drop it. There wasn’t much they could do, anyways; if their religion conflicted so badly with his sexuality, the worst they would do is send him back to the home anyways. In all honesty, he kind of hoped they would. He was sick of being here, and it was better for his record if he didn’t run.

Not that it mattered much anymore. He was almost aged out of the system anyways.

He took a cautious seat back at the dining room table, which they had just cleared from classes. The mom sat back in her chair, eyeing him carefully, as the dad began to speak.

“We spoke with our pastor the other day, and we think it would be best if we put you in therapy.”

“I don’t…” He’d stopped regular therapy at the group home almost a month before coming here, and he couldn’t imagine why he’d need to go back. He definitely wasn’t happy here, but he didn’t figure a grumpy mood was enough to warrant counseling. “I don’t understand.”

“After… what you told us? About your… urges-”

“Urges.” He couldn’t help his own disgusted tone. Of course they were homophobic.

“Yes. Our pastor suggested we try conversion therapy.”

Virgil scoffed, but he couldn’t ignore the way his heart started pounding, “Right. As if you could ever get my social workers to approve that. Ward of the state, remember?” He tapped his chest a couple times.

“Fortunately, we already talked to your social worker, Virgil. We had it approved just this morning.” The man finally stopped, as if waiting for a response.

Virgil’s eyes grew wide as he looked frantically between the two of them, the woman quickly avoiding eye contact. That wasn’t normal.

“There’s no way in hell that you-”

“Profanity, Virgil!” The man barked and Virgil shrank back in his chair, impulsively ducking to avoid a fist that didn’t come. They hadn’t hit him so far, but old habits die hard. “We’ve already signed you up. Your first session is tomorrow. First thing’s first-” He stood up, reaching a hand out to a still-shaking Virgil, “Hand over your phone.”

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

His hair was short now. Shorter than he could ever remember it being. He missed his bangs, he missed the tiny boosts of confidence it gave him when the rest of his appearance disgusted him. Now there was nothing for his hands to run through. There was no style to it, just an electric razor in the hands of his silent foster mother. He should have fought it, he really should have, but he was shaking far too much to try to move.

He didn’t like hands so near his throat.

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

Surely, his social worker didn’t approve of this. The only explanation Virgil could possibly rationalize was they’d lied about the purpose of the therapy, or the method, or something. But any type of change in a foster kid's life had to go through about a million different levels to get approved, so how the hell were they getting away with this?

It wasn’t too bad. A lot of it was using religious guilt, something Virgil did not have much of, saying he was immoral and inhumane. The rest of it was just his new therapist trying to dig into his supposed ‘trauma’ that made him ‘this way’, as if there was something that caused it. They talked a lot about his old foster homes, and his therapist seemed positive something there had to be the root to everything. It made his blood boil.

It didn’t help that they still hadn’t given his phone back, and they confined him to his room when he wasn’t doing school work at the kitchen table. He could hear the way his soulmate was losing morale, the longer he didn’t respond. The songs were darker, and were few and far between. They still refused to play songs on what he’d called ‘his days’.

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

His ‘therapy’ had ended hours ago, and yet he couldn’t stop twitching. Every time he closed his eyes in a vain attempt to sleep, it was like the electrodes were attached to him again. The images they’d shown him flashed before his eyes, of men kissing, holding hands, and were quickly followed by the sharp sting of electric shocks. He couldn’t close his eyes without flinching violently, no music to calm his nerves.

Virgil didn’t sleep that night.

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

He held to the music like an anchor, soaking in every rare song his soulmate played like a sponge. It was his only relief from the hunger pangs in his stomach, reminding him that he hadn’t been allowed to eat at all in the day leading up to another therapy session. Apparently they wanted to put him on some kind of medication, try to increase the intensity of his sessions. It was getting to the point where Virgil was tempted to pretend it was working just to make them stop.

He missed his soulmate.

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

No. He’d said no to the drugs. They wanted to put him on anti-psychotics, claiming he was severely mentally ill, and he’d downright refused. There was no way in hell he was going on anti-psychotics. Finally, after days of their demanding being met with stubbornness, they’d given in.

That had been a month ago. Maybe. Time had gotten kind of funny, like in that limbo between Christmas and New Years, or in the depths of summer break. It had been a while, for sure. They still fed him so rarely a growling stomach was more common than a full one, claiming it was part of his new therapy. He couldn’t help wonder why he was gaining weight, though. He’d been underweight for a majority of his life, thanks to a constantly overworking metabolism and genetics, along with the nasty food they served at group homes that he gladly avoided, but he was starting to fill out slightly. His ribs were barely showing.

That would be a symptom of being on antipsychotics, he knew from previous research. But he wasn’t on them, so why…?

He took another sip of his apple juice his foster mom had brought him, trying to focus on his homework. Had apple juice always tasted that bitter?

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

They’d gone too far this time, Virgil knew that much. Curse his stubbornness, his inability to just lie and go along with it. He could have just claimed the conversion therapy was working, ‘oh golly, I’m healed!’, and go on with his life, finally talk to his fucking social worker, but no. He wasn’t capable of that.

They’d shown him more pictures, shocking him more frequently, refusing to stop the session even as tears streamed down his face. It just hurt so bad. Then he remembered a shout (maybe his own?), blinding pain, and the next thing he knew, he was in his foster dad’s car. He said he’d had a seizure, but he was okay now, so they were heading home. A cup of water was forced down his throat and he was laid down in bed, commanded to rest. He was so confused, but also so tired, so he let his eyes drift shut.

Just before he lost consciousness for the second time that day, he heard a soft melody drift through his mind as his soulmate played another song. It had been so long since the last time he’d heard them play music… despite his exhaustion, he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

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

The days had been a bit of a blur since his seizure. It was probably because his brain had done the human equivalent to ‘Have you tried turning it off and back on again?’, but even that was hazy in his mind. All he wanted to do was sleep, to rest, to not have to do the school work that they were still shoving down his throat. From where he was laying motionless in his bed, he watched the slowly setting sun dip below the horizon.

There was a knock at the door downstairs. Virgil flinched from the noise, triggering a series of twitches down his spine and into his limbs. People were talking downstairs. He could distinctly hear the voice of his foster parents, but the others were unfamiliar. They were getting louder, near shouting, and there were pounding footsteps echoing up the stairs and down his hallway.

He couldn’t even find the energy to be scared as his door was thrown open and a man’s voice shouted, “He’s in here!”. A flurry of people stormed into the room, the ones in the lead dressed in blue.

Clambering, people shifting to make space, a woman holding his hand. She was asking him questions as they loaded him into a stretcher and he tried his best to answer, but he was just so tired. His name was said multiple times, as well as the names of his foster parents, but it was hazy, so hazy…

“We were just trying to help, I didn’t want this to happen, I don’t-”

“Quiet, woman!”

She raised her voice but it was growing farther away. Virgil realized with a start that he was looking at the sky, bumping along on the gravel path, the bright lights of an ambulance flashing across his vision.

The husband shouted again, trying to silence his wife. That was the last thing Virgil heard as the doors slammed shut, and he finally allowed his eyes to close.

Part 3 HERE

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p-artsypants · 3 years ago

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The Ghost of Smokey Joe (7)

Till Then

Adrien Agreste was acting bizarre. Stilted body language, plastic smile, and he seemed to have forgotten how close they were. Before she can get the truth out of him, Marinette finds herself as the sole heir to the Gabriel brand and the mansion, following the murder-suicide of both Adrien and Gabriel Agreste. The mystery continues as Tikki explains that Adrien was Chat Noir...but if Adrien is six feet under, why is Chat Noir still running around?

Well, it’s spooky season! You know what that means? OH BOY SPOOKFEST!!!

FF.net | Ao3

This investigation was not going well.

First of all, she hadn’t attended the funeral. Perhaps she should have, to keep up appearances, but she couldn’t stomach sitting through the service while knowing there were no bodies in the caskets.

It was wrong.

She gave poor excuses to Alya and Nino, and skipped it. Maybe if she had gone, she could have learned more, but she couldn’t. She just couldn’t stand it.

Later that evening, Ladybug made a visit to the cemetery where the family crypt was. She allowed Tikki to do the actual investigating. She phased into the dirt of the freshly buried, unmarked grave, and concurred, it was the same coffin from before, with only sandbags inside.

Gabriel’s too, over at the crypt.

“Not much else to glean from this place,” Tikki said sadly. “Where to next?”

“Actually,” Marinette wondered. “I have a hunch. Could you check Emilie’s casket too? She’s been dead for a while, so I apologize if what you see is…awful.”

“I’ve seen worse. I’ll take a look!”

Marinette waited anxiously, biting into her thumb nail. She really hoped she was wrong. Really really hoped.

Tikki reappeared, her brow furrowed in concern. “You’re hunch was right. Emilie’s is just sandbags too.”

She groaned, dread bleeding into her bones. “Damn it.”

“Maybe they’re all together?”

“At this point, I don’t know if I should even hope for that. Emilie has been gone for years. Wherever she is…I doubt we’ll ever find her, let alone Adrien and Plagg.”

“We’re not giving up though, right?”

“Of course not!”

Marinette knew she had a chance of answers at the funeral home. The director knew more than he was letting on, but she had asked too many questions as Marinette, and going in to interrogate him as Ladybug would probably put her identity in jeopardy. She’d have to think on that one, and try to find a way around it.

Now for the ‘basement’.

Till then, my darling, please wait for me

Till then, no matter when it will be

Someday I know I'll be back again

Please wait till then

Since Felix had confirmed that the Mansion didn’t have a basement, she assumed the office building did. Nowhere else did Gabriel or Adrien spend a significant amount of time.

While the workers were still on their vacation, she went in. There was still a secretary, though she was dressed in casual clothes, and the doors were closed to the public.

“Hi Miss Dupain-Cheng. Working today?”

“Um, something like that. Organizing some stuff.”

“Alright, well, let me know if you need anything. I’m just here to tell clients that we’re off for a while.”

Marinette smiled. “Thank you. Um...perhaps, do you know if there’s a basement?”

“Basement? Uh...there might be one. I’m not sure. The main elevator doesn’t go there.”

“Alright. I’ll look around then,” she smiled patiently and bid the woman adieu.

The building was unsettling without anyone in it. Half the lights were turned down, and the only sounds were the hum of the air conditioning and her footsteps echoing in the dim hallways.

Several years ago, when she had first started, she was given a tour. A tour that seemed so unimportant then, she was scraping for now. There was a back staircase, in case of fire. That much she could remember.

The big iron door slammed shut behind her as she entered the stairs. There was a door with an Exit sign over it, the outside world on the other side. A set of stairs went up and around, to every floor above.

But there was one more door. Labelled with a big ‘SS’ for ‘Sous-sol’.

‘Basement’, in French.

“Tikki! I found it!” She said to her purse.

“Great job! Let’s get to the bottom of things!”

Marinette screwed up her lips. “Pun intended?”

“In memory of Chat Noir, yes.”

“That is what he would have said, isn’t it? God, I miss him so much.” But she decided not to mourn her best friend in the dank, spider-infested stairwell.

Of course, the door was locked.

“Nothing is ever simple, is it? I wonder who would have the key. Janitor? Maybe Gabriel has a set in his old office.”

“Aren’t you forgetting your ultimate skeleton key?” Tikki asked.

“...um, yes, apparently.”

Tikki flew from the purse, and phased through the door handle. It clicked a moment later, and the handle turned.

“Wow, you’re convenient. Remind me to ask for favors in breaking and entering more often.”

“Anything for you, Marinette!”

She felt along the wall, found a lightswitch, and turned it on. Deep below, a few scant lights flickered to life.

And in the columns of flickering light stood silhouetted figures. Still, waiting.

Marinette held her breath, afraid she had been caught.

“Tikki…” She readied herself to transform the moment they moved. She was still in the dark, they wouldn’t have seen her.

Seconds ticked on. They stood, never flinching, never so much as breathing.

“Oh my god, they’re mannequins,” she breathed. “I mean, duh but holy shit that was terrifying.”

She descended the stairs, one at a time, still being quiet, and keeping her eyes glued to the forms.

They didn’t move, because they were plastic, and as she drew closer to them, she realized how fake they were.

They weren’t even good mannequins. The paint was chipping and the proportions looked odd.

“These go in shop windows, right?” Asked Tikki. “I’ve seen a few from your purse.”

“That’s right. These look really old. I’m surprised they haven’t been recycled.”

“Is this what Adrien wanted you to see?”

“I doubt it. What would mannequins have to do with anything?”

Tikki shrugged too, and looked around.

It was the worst three hours of her life.

But because Adrien had used what was presumably his dying words to tell her to look here, she scoped that place out thoroughly. She named all the mannequins, to try to take the edge off. It didn’t really help, but it made ‘James’ the eerily realistic mannequin that stood in the shadows a little more friendly instead of a murderer in waiting.

There was nothing there except old clothes, rejected materials, and a whole lot of new friends that Marinette never wanted to see again.

As Marinette pushed aside the 9th box filled with 70’s paisley shirts, she sighed. “I think...I think I’m looking in the wrong place.”

“I agree,” Tikki said, her antenna drooping. “I think we should have found something by now, right?”

“I couldn’t even find any inspiration down here.”

In the corner of her eye, she saw something, and turned quickly.

“What?” Said Tikki wearily, already knowing what was wrong.

“Another freaking mannequin! I swear they’re moving when I’m not looking at them!”

“They can’t do that.”

“I know that, but my eyes are tired and my heart is on the edge, and coffee isn’t working on my brain anymore!”

“I think we should leave then. Maybe try looking at the mansion again. Maybe there’s a basement that Felix didn’t know about.”

At that moment, her phone chirped with a message from Nathalie.

Please don’t forget, tomorrow, despite it being Saturday, your presence is required at the Agreste Manor. Gabriel’s Last Will and Testament will be reviewed, and you have been named. Since Mr. Agreste is so famous, we have asked all beneficiaries to attend. Sunday, you have off.

“Well, looks like I have an excuse to go back to the mansion after all. Probably should get in there and explore quickly. I have no idea what’s going to happen to it in the wake of...well, you know.”

“Someone is probably going to inherit it. Probably Felix now. He seemed rather friendly at the funeral. He might let you snoop.”

“Friendly?”

“More than usual, at least. But who knows how long that will last.”

“If I have to show my cards to investigate, I will. If Ladybug has to break in, I will. I’m not going down in silence.”

Our dreams will live though we are apart

Our love I know we'll keep in our hearts

Till then, when all the world will be free

Please wait for me

True to form, she arrived the next day at the mansion.

As she came into the parlor, where many people were gathered, Felix caught her eye. He jerked his head, gesturing for her to come sit by him.

As she sat, she looked at the others gathered. She recognized Nathalie, of course, Amelie and Felix, and Mayor Bourgeois. There were a few other people she didn’t know. One she had seen at the company, but she couldn’t remember his name right now.

“So,” she asked softly. “Is the lawyer going to read the Will out?”

Felix scoffed. “They don’t do that anymore. We’re just all going to get a copy, and the lawyer will be here if we have questions. Normally, I’m pretty sure they mail it, but I heard that the Will is sealed so they wanted us to get it in person.”

“Sealed?”

“Meaning no one else can read it. Last Wills and Testaments are public records after death. Unless they are sealed.”

“Uh. I didn’t know any of that. This is my first time being in a Will. Well, I think my dad has one, but he’s still alive.”

“Good for you.”

“That is—I mean—I wasn’t trying to—“

“Just shut up, Dupain-Cheng.” He chuckled. “You are so sensitive.”

She just childishly stuck her tongue out at him.

A moment later, Nathalie and a white haired gentleman arrived.

“Hello everyone, thank you for coming. This is Dr. Nathaniel Grey, the Agreste family lawyer and executor of their estate. Now, everyone listed in the Will will receive a copy. Each copy has the same content, but for convenience, I have highlighted your name.” And she started to hand out the packets, calling out names as she did so.

Some of the strangers had the last name ‘Agreste’ so they had to have been related to Gabriel.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette held out her hand to receive the thick white envelope.

“Oh Felix!” Amelie cooed. “Emilie left you her corvette! She loved that car, I know she’d be proud for you to have it.”

“I’ve seen it. Beautiful classic car. I’m honored.” As much of an ass as he was, Felix sounded genuine in that sentiment.

To not seem too eager, Marinette carefully opened the envelope. As she did, she tried to imagine what he would have left her. A share in the company maybe? Maybe a family sewing machine? Nothing much, surely.

She unfurled the sheet and wow that was a lot of pink.

“What the hell?” Felix gasped, looking over her shoulder. He glanced back at his page, and frowned in confusion. “No offense Marinette, but what the hell?”

“I…I don’t even know…” She glanced over the assets willed to her.

Gabriel left her the mansion.

Up until that moment, she had forgotten she was supposed to be looking for a new place after Nino and Alya got married. She had mentioned it to Gabriel once, off-handed, and he seemed to not really care.

But if he left the house to her, could he have cared more than she thought?

The mansion wasn’t the only thing he left to her, either. He left his share of the company stocks, as well as trusts and bonds. Marinette had become a multi-millionaire.

“What’s the meaning of this, Dr. Grey!?” A woman shouted.

The shout drew all attention to her. She was a rail thin, tall woman, with high cheek bones and blonde-white hair tied up in a bun.

“What seems to be the problem, Madam Laurent?”

“I was left a small fraction of stock and my mother’s ashes, but this—this half breed harlot gets the entire estate!?”

Marinette flinched, feeling guilty and wholly undeserving of Mr. Agreste’s gift.

Thankfully, Nathalie of all people came to her aid. “Miss Dupain-Cheng has been working tirelessly and closely with Gabriel to continue his brand. She’s been named head designer for his company, and everything left to her is to help in that endeavor.”

As she and Felix looked over the list of gifts, she wondered how true that was.

“But I’m his sister!” Said Madam Laurent. “I take precedence over her!”

“Not with a will, you don’t.” Dr. Grey explained. “Children are the only protected heirs in French law. The rest of his estate is his to do with as he pleases.”

Marinette looked back at all the pink highlights. She began to wonder if they served a purpose in distracting everyone from the obvious.

Adrien wasn’t on there. Not once.

Although there are oceans we must cross

And mountains that we must climb

I know every gain must have a loss,

So pray that our loss is nothing but time

He couldn’t be disinherited from the Will, not under French law. And yet he was missing…like the Will had been drawn up with the knowledge that Adrien wouldn’t be alive once it was valid.

Pale and shaking, Marinette turned to look at Felix.

“Don’t let her get to you, Kid,” he nudged her, taking her appearance for still being put off by the woman. “Gabriel’s family has always been lower middle class, before he became famous. She probably just wanted a bunch of money…whereas most of it was my Aunt’s and it was returned to our family. Does that make sense?”

Marinette shook her head, and then whispered. “Adrien isn’t here.”

He gave her a soft smile. “Yeah, I know. He’s gone, Marinette.”

“No!” She shouted, then hushed herself as the others turned to look. “No, I mean…he’s not here.” She pointed at the Will.

Felix grew pale too, and poured over the Will himself. “No way…how…but—maybe it was an assumption. Maybe it was assumed that Adrien was going to inherit half anyway, so he made the Will in case something happened?”

“Dr. Grey,” Marinette stood and walked to him. “How old is this version of the Will?”

Nathalie gave her a sharp look, but didn’t comment.

“Well, a little over a week, actually. Gabriel called me and asked to make some changes.”

“And why isn’t his son in here?” She asked, darkly.

Dr. Grey screwed up his lips. “You know, I don’t know. I told Mr. Agreste what the law was, and he said, ‘just write it up as if Adrien didn’t exist.’ I wonder if he knew what their fate was going to be.”

Marinette tried not to cry. She really did, but she just clenched the document to her chest and sobbed.

“Now now, my dear. Don’t be so blue.”

“Adrien isn’t a murderer! He can’t be!”

“Does it really matter anymore?” The lawyer asked. “The truth of their demise will not be released publicly. Only a handful of people will know. I doubt anyone outside of this room, in fact.” He said it so casually, like nothing was wrong.

“Didn’t you find it suspicious?” She demanded.

“No,” said Dr. Grey. “You would be surprised at how many clients have second versions of Wills without a child in it. Whether it’s because they’re hoping something will happen, or they see their child going down a dangerous road. Or perhaps the child is terminally ill and the parent doubts they will survive longer than them. Regardless of the reason, I choose to not ask questions.”

Marinette wished he had.

Till then, let's dream of what there will be

Till then, we'll call on each memory

Till then, when I will hold you again

Please wait till then

“Now, did you see the conditions?”

“What?” She sniffed.

“Here,” Dr. Grey pointed to an asterisk at the end of the mansion item. “This states that there’s a condition applied, and the condition will be on the backside.”

Marinette wiped her face and turned the paper over.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng must reside within the mansion for ten years. Within that time, she may not redecorate or refurnish any room except for the ‘pink room’. Guests, spouses, and children are welcomed to join her, as long as she is the primary resident. If she is to go on vacation or an extended business trip, the house must be vacant, save for those who would keep it from disrepair. If Miss Dupain-Cheng fails to comply, the house, and all that is in it, must be demolished. It cannot be sold or gifted to anyone until the ten year mark passes.”

Marinette just continued to stare. “I…that’s…really specific.”

“More specific than I suggested, but it’s what Mr. Agreste wanted.”

With a calm expression, but a heart in turmoil, Marinette folded her copy up. “Thank you for your help, Dr. Grey. If you’ll excuse me, I need a minute alone.” She took her copy and quickly walked across the lobby to her office.

There, on her desk, was a vase with a bouquet of roses. She hadn’t been in here since before the funeral, but they looked fresh. No card though.

She set the roses to the side, and unfurled the Will once again, laying it flat on the desktop. She poured over every item, not just Willed to her, but to everyone.

Indeed, there was no sign of Adrien, but also no sign of his property. Did he have his own Will somewhere else?

There was the curious case of Nathalie, who was in the Will, but received only money and trusts. Not an inch of material property, despite her closeness to Gabriel after all these years.

What did she know? What had she seen? Truthfully, Marinette was too afraid to ask.

Tomorrow, she would visit City Hall and get the records of the mansion. Hopefully, there were some blueprints in there, and the hidden basement would be found.

Till then, let's dream of what there will be

Till then, we'll call on each memory

Till then, when I will hold you again

Please wait till then

#miraculous ladybug #ml #fanfiction #the ghost of Smokey Joe #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrienette #tikki #identity reveal #murder mystery #spooky

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sepublic · 4 years ago

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Luz’s time in the Boiling Isles?

Building off of a previous post, we know that Eda only sells human garbage on weekends; Otherwise, she sells potions during the week. With this incredibly vital piece of information, let’s analyze the timeline of each episode, and calculate once and for all; How long has Luz been on the Boiling Isles? Keep in mind… I’m only calculating the minimum amount of time, because the possibility for entire days and even weeks passing between episodes isn’t out of the question; But given how Luz is operating on limited time before she heads back home when summer ends…

For now, let’s just try not to assume anything, and work with only the actual evidence we have; So unless stated otherwise, we’re operating on the assumption that a minimum amount of time takes place between episodes, unless proof states otherwise! Because we know as of the Season Finale that Camila doesn’t yet expect Luz to be back from Reality Check Camp, and Luz expresses no concerns about an impending deadline; Ergo, we’re working with as little time as possible, while still leaving some room here or there…

A Lying Witch and a Warden takes place on a BI Sunday, because Eda is selling human trash, and the very next day it’s potions! Witches before Wizards, by this logic, takes place on the BI Monday right after!

Next comes I was a Teenage Abomination; We know it’s on a school day, so it’s likely the same week as WbW. Then there’s The Intruder; Willow is briefly seen at the beginning wearing her casual outfit. There’s no indication of what time of day it is when this all happens, and we know from Really Small Problems that Willow can and has worn her casual outfit the morning before changing into her uniform for the school day; Regardless, even if it was a weekday or a BI Saturday, it doesn’t matter. Because immediately afterwards…

…We have Covention! THAT opens with Eda, Luz, and King selling human garbage, so it’s officially been a full week since Luz has arrived! Happy one-week anniversary, I guess…? Regardless, we segway into Hooty’s Moving Hassle; The trio are hanging around at the Owl House instead of selling stuff, and only head into Bonesborough to get more elixirs for Eda’s curse. Coupled with how Willow and Gus arrive wearing their school uniforms, it’s safe to say the opening scenes take place after-school on a week day.

Lost in Language! This one is SUPER helpful, because Emira, bless her, outright says that Covention happened last week; Given how this episode takes place over the course of a day, and yet Amity is at the library instead of school (and she would NEVER skip class), it’s obviously a weekend. It’s worth noting that Eda and King aren’t selling human trash on this day, but that’s likely because the Bat Queen had just dropped off her kids that morning, so it was just a change of plans.

Next is Once Upon a Swap; We start with the gang selling human trash again. It’s possible a full week has transpired, and we’ve jumped into the next weekend… Or, LiL happened on a BI Saturday, and OUaS is a Sunday (which means the same day Eda woke up to find the Bat Queen’s children missing, she switched everyone’s bodies). We know that Amity is Top Student for a reason; You don’t get that position by being a slow reader. Coupled with how she’s an avid fan of The Good Witch Azura, it’s likely that she finishes the book Luz gave her sooner, rather than later… So for now, LiL and OUaS happen back-to-back, one day after the other! That, or LiL begins after-school on Friday… Regardless, it’s still only been two weeks since Luz arrived!

Now, I know that you might be thinking- At the end of OUaS, Hooty says it’s time for his Monthly Cleaning, and yet earlier that day Luz shows disgust about having to clean him; Implying she’s participated in a previous monthly cleaning! And to that I say… NO, that doesn’t necessarily mean that. All it means is that Luz knows Hooty is filthy and thus dreads the idea of having to clean him. It doesn’t necessarily point to her having been part in a previous monthly cleaning. So for now, it’s just been two weeks.

Something Ventured, Someone Framed is a school day, obviously. Then we have Escape of the Palisman; Presumably another school day, because a school game takes place and we see Willow and other students in their school uniforms! Gus is wearing a sweater over his, but otherwise; EotP probably takes place on a BI Friday! So THREE weeks have passed!

Then comes Sense and Insensitivity; It starts on a weekend because human trash is being sold, but what’s interesting is that it takes place over the course of a few days, as Eda says she’ll be gone for that amount of time; Not to mention, even with magic, it’d likely take time for King to have Ruler’s Reach edited, printed, advertised, and gain an avid fanbase. In addition to people already expecting a sequel announcement, and how a few days is usually by minimum three… It’s likely that this episode extends into the week as well. We see Boscha and a few other Hexside student in their school uniforms, but this can easily be explained as either happening after-school, as well as the fact that there’s not much of a reason to go and design a bunch of unique, casual outfits for some background characters; Boscha and her friends are also seen in their school uniforms during Once Upon a Swap, which IS a weekend.

(Now this raises the question; If this happened over a few days, what was Luz doing before King invited her? Well… she was all alone, typing her story by herself, sad because her friend ditched her for a few days. 😢)

Next is Adventures in the Elements! We have no indication on when a Trash Day is, and what’s the logic behind it, if there’s any consistent scheduling, etc. It doesn’t really matter though; We immediately see Amity in her casual attire, and later that day she and the twins are practicing magic on the Knee. It’s safe to say that this is a weekend, and/or…

Remember what I said earlier, about how SaI likely extended into the week? Well, if it’s a weekend already… Then that implies an entire WEEK has passed between SaI and AitE! And, remember… In SVSF, Principal Bump mentions that Luz will go to Hexside when the next semester starts; We don’t know how semesters work in the Boiling Isles school system. For all we know, they’re more akin to a six-week grading period if anything else (even if they don’t last as long).

That being said, the idea that there’s a full week of no school between semesters is also possible… We don’t know if summer vacation is a thing on the Boiling Isles, so perhaps a whole week off between semesters compensates for this? That, or there is no compensation, period, given how the school system in the Boiling Isles is clearly flawed and spends emphasis on molding children into obedient workers.

For now, I’m inclined to say that a week has passed between SaI and AitE… But if one considers that Amity is still reading Azura when this all happens, then that means it’s taken her two weeks to finish the book; That, or she finished the book within a few days and didn’t have the chance to meet up with Luz until two weeks later. Amity IS the Top Student, so combined with her parents’ pressure, she may not have a very open schedule; Which could also drag out her time reading Azura.

That might seem like a stretch in more than just the temporal way, so I’ll keep an open mind; It’s worth noting that if I AM right and there’s a full week of no school, then it’s not out of the question for AitE to have taken place on a weekday. The fact that Amity isn’t going to school, and yet Eda doesn’t seem to be having any plans to sell human garbage prior to Luz’s request to be taught a second spell (she’s at home trying to cook sentient vegetables), indicates this ISN’T a weekend, but a weekday with no school.

My point is, if SaI started on a Saturday at minimum (because Eda is selling human trash), and a few days have passed… Then it doesn’t make sense for Amity to be wearing casual clothes and not going to school, UNLESS a full week has passed, or there isn’t school for a week (or maybe a day, but this is between semesters too). An entire week has to have passed either way, because it doesn’t make much sense for a semester to end and begin within the same week; Regardless, it’s only a one-week difference when we ultimately tally up Luz’s time on the Boiling Isles, as of the Season 1 finale.

(Mind you, it could all just be a continuity error; But that’s no fun, is it!)

The next episode is The First Day… Very clearly a BI Monday, unless it started on a Tuesday for whatever reason; Regardless, it’s during the school week, and likely early into it! Next is Really Small Problems, which would’ve been a school day- But Boscha’s pet pixies caused class to be cancelled. Then Understanding Willow has Luz and her friends at school… Followed by Enchanting Grom Fright! EGF likely takes place by the end of the week, as that’s usually when such formal occasions happen; Keep in mind, at least two whole days pass during this episode, one at school, and the other when Amity is training Luz on her fears! It’s possible this training period happens after-school, especially given how she mentions that they have no more time left once it ends. So EGF potentially starts on a BI Thursday, before ending on a Friday night. Either way, the week has ended- That’s FIVE weeks, baby!

Now, we go into Wing it like Witches! It’s the very beginning of Grudgby Season, so I think it’s a safe assumption to say that this episode takes place on a BI Monday- So it’s the next week after Grom. This episode comes and goes across the span of a day, not much else to say here. Then we have Agony of a Witch… What’s interesting is that in the previous episode, Lilith mentions how she WILL be back to capture Eda, and how she alludes to Belos getting impatient. Not only that, but Amity’s leg is still broken in Agony of a Witch, too…

We know that witches have access to healing magic, and that Amity is using a Healing Glyph to speed up her recovery. Grudgby Cards released as supplementary material to the episode allude to witches having regenerative abilities- With or without this possibility, we can assume that Amity is going to heal sooner rather than later because of magic, in addition to Lilith likely intending to capture Eda ASAP as Belos’ patience wears thin. We know AoaW takes place during a school day as well, as this is when Luz has a field trip to Belos’ castle… With all that in mind, we can probably infer this episode as having happened later that same week that Amity broke her leg. The day ends with Luz walking back home across the Boiling Isles by herself, on-foot, the ENTIRE way back to the Owl House… And then sunrise, meaning Luz has been walking for the whole night… 🥺

…And then we have Young Blood, Old Souls- Our long-awaited Season Finale! Considering what Luz, Lilith, and Belos all have at stake here… It doesn’t make much sense for them to wait an entire day before getting along their respective business with Eda; And with how the scenes are framed, it’s all but said that YBOS takes place the day after the field trip… So right after Luz arrived back at the Owl House at the end of AoaW that morning, she barely got any time to rest before she changed into her regular clothes and enacted her rescue mission, that same day! Jeez… Luz must’ve been EXHAUSTED by the end of the episode, and coupled with the relief of finally rescuing Eda in the end- She deserves a nice long rest!

Young Blood, Old Souls takes place across an entire day… I can’t tell if it’s a school day or not, because- Willow and Gus ARE shown in their casual outfits during the episode… But they were also seen wearing their casual outfits the morning of RSP, right before they planned to head to school, only to find out it was cancelled. We also see other Hexside Students in this episode, but they’re always depicted with their uniforms on, school day or not. Even if it were a school day, I can see Belos making a special occasion to cancel school so he can have everyone gather for his petrification of Eda… And there’s also the chance that by the time we see Willow and Gus, their school day has already ended, and everything’s happening in the evening.

(If so, then this leaves room for Luz having at least had a decent nap and meal before going off to rescue Eda, the poor girl.)

Regardless… We know that Agony of a Witch and Young Blood, Old Souls happen back-to-back, right after one another, across the span of exactly two days; From the morning of one day, to nighttime of the next. Because Amity’s leg is still broken despite having the Healing Glyph applied as of the Season Finale… We can probably assume that the final two episodes happen sooner rather than later; So it’s likely that our last two episodes of Season 1 occur later in the same week as WilW. Regardless of whether or not the season finale is on a weekend or a BI Friday; It’s basically been about a week, for all intents and purposes. So then our last three episodes of Season 1 happen across Luz’s sixth week at the Boiling Isles, by minimum.

So, to round it up; Luz has been in the Boiling Isles for SIX WEEKS at minimum, potentially longer; Maybe five, if my calculations about an entire week passing between Sense and Insensitivity and The First Day are wrong. Potentially as little as FOUR, if I’m also wrong about Lost in Language and Once Upon a Swap happening back-to-back! So, 4-6 Weeks by minimum, with my estimations leaning into the latter number. We know that Luz is supposed to be at the Reality Check Camp for presumably the entire summer… So that’s about three months; Six weeks is about a month and a half, so about halfway through Luz’s intended time away from home, before she was supposed to return- And in line with Luz not showing any concern about having to leave the Boiling Isles, anytime soon. Luz has a decent amount of time before summer ends, and Camila realizes that her kid is missing!

Of course, we don’t know how long it’ll be between Seasons 1 and 2, how much time will occur across Season 2; And there’s always the possibility of Camila suspecting that something is up before Reality Check Camp is bound to end, because Luz is no longer responding to her texts. We also don’t know how things are going on the end of whoever is impersonating Luz with those letters, and how they’d be affected by the portal’s destruction, if at all… For all we know, there might even be a doppelganger of Luz that’ll be sent in her place, by the time she’s supposed to return from Reality Camp! And that’s not even taking into account the possibility of Luz finding her way back home before Reality Camp ends…

Regardless of how things will happen in the future, as of now; I think Luz has been on the Boiling Isles for six weeks by minimum. There’s still room and possibility for additional weeks to have occurred between certain episodes and more ambiguous time frames- Not to mention the idea of Boiling Isles weeks being structured differently from ours… Maybe they have more days or less- We’ve seen a calendar or two in the background that could point in either direction, but nothing outright definitive. And even if weeks were shorter/longer, there’s the consideration of how long each day/night lasts, and how that’ll overlap with Earth time… So Luz’s stay COULD be shorter/longer than the equivalent of six Earth weeks, who can say? Though for the sake of simplicity and everyone’s sanity, I wouldn’t be shocked if Dana and the crew decided that Boiling Isles time runs concurrent with Earth time, for the most part.

Whether or not I’m correct, I think it does put into some perspective how much time Luz has spent at the Owl House, and the bonds, relationships, and growth she’s experienced during her stay! It definitely helps you appreciate what Luz and the others have accomplished, and how far their journey has progressed together- That this really is a summer that has changed Luz’s life more fundamentally, more succinctly across a shorter span of time, than most of her life… And it becomes clear just how impactful Luz’s second home and found family in the Boiling Isles is to her, and vice-versa!

Because Luz hasn’t just been changed- She’s changed OTHERS, from Eda, to King… Willow, Gus, Amity- And she’s even instated quite a bit of change in the Boiling Isles itself, changing up Hexside’s curriculum and planting the seeds of a rebellion against Belos; In addition to rediscovering Glyphs, and how that can really change what it means to be a Witch going forward- Because now, it seems the role of ‘Witch’ has become much more inclusive once more, thanks to Luz! Dredging up the ancient past, while influencing the present and future so immensely across such a relatively brief period of time; Luz really is such a cryptid and outside-context anomaly to the Boiling Isles, befitting someone who comes from another reality entirely!

#the owl house #toh #the owl house luz #luz noceda #speculation #theory #meta #analysis

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sapphirespencer · 4 years ago

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The Perfect Pumpkin (Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader)

summary: Reader and Emily meet because of a pumpkin, not exactly how she thought meeting Emily Prentiss would’ve gone.

word count: 1208

a/n: hi i’m back with some emily fluff. i’m not too proud of this one, i’ve just been all over the place mentally lately. so i’m sorry but please send requests and asks, i wanna talk to y’all. :)

“I shouldn’t have come so late.” You mutter to yourself as you walk down the hay covered pathway. It was October 24th and unfortunately for you, the farm had run out of pumpkins.

“Wow, I am such a great aunt, can’t even buy a freaking pumpkin on time. I can get him a squash, right? Kids like squashes.” Heading towards the assortment of squash in the tan buckets near the entrance, something bright and orange lingers in the corner of your eye. A pumpkin. A bright, orange, perfect pumpkin.

“Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Practically skipping towards the pumpkin, you were elated. You weren’t about to let Jack down, not today. Sure, you missed the initial day you two had set aside for pumpkin carving, but as soon as the jet had arrived back in Quantico, you were in your car on the way to the nearest farm. Your hands came down on the orange plant as you noticed a second pair reach for it at the same time.

“I really, really, really need this one.” Pleadingly, you look up at the owner of the second pair of hands. If you weren’t so desperate for something as silly as a winter squash at the moment, you would’ve been begging for a date with her. The stranger had soft-looking dark brown shoulder length hair with the most amazing bangs you had ever seen and a room-brightening smile. She was laughing at something but her facial expression changed as her alluring brown eyes studied you. oh god i look horrible.

“Me too. My friend back there insists that it’s exactly what the office needs to make us look more festive and trust me, if I don’t bring it back over to her, I’m done for.” Her studious expression had turned into a lighthearted one. Looking over her shoulder to take note of her blonde-haired, sweet-looking friend she was talking about.

“My entire reputation as the favorite aunt goes to crap if I don't take this pumpkin home with me today.” You gave her a worrying expression as you pressed firmly onto the pumpkin, searching her eyes for some response. Please, please, I need this.

“Okay, okay.... You can have the pumpkin, “ Relief flooded your body as your jaw unclenched. Not letting him down, not today. “But if you want, you can take me home tonight too.” Oh. As your body relaxed, you felt your face go red and hot, eyes widening in surprise then quickly blinking back to their resting size.

“I wouldn’t mind...but my brother and nephew might. I just moved back to town and work’s been keeping me from having time to find my own place at the moment.” Her smirk never left her face as she cocked her head to the side, almost visibly hanging onto your every word.

“Well, maybe a proper date then? Saturday?”

“What about Sunday? My job requires traveling and I’ll be gone from tomorrow until Saturday evening. Hence, the pumpkin. I missed carving night with my nephew, Jack, the other day and then I’m back on a plane tomorrow afternoon.” Holding the pumpkin on your side, you internally beat yourself up for not having an open Saturday this week.

“That works. Here’s my card, my personal number is on there.” She handed you a white card with a couple of numbers and a small familiar-looking logo in the corner, which upon further inspection, you realized was the FBI logo.

“Oh! I’m part of the Critical Incident Response Group but I’m hoping to transfer to another branch soon. What about you?” Smiling, you look back up from the card, pumpkin still attached at your hip.

“Suddenly, all of the traveling makes sense. I'm a profiler for the BAU. Where are you hoping to transfer to…” She sneakingly asks for your name, smile noticeably wider after getting news of where you work.

“Y/N. My brother works in the Behavioral Analysis Unit, maybe you know him? I’m hopefully going to be transferring there in about 3 weeks.” Of course she knows him, you idiot. As you await her response, your body tenses up again. Does she think I’m a stalker? What if she doesn’t like me and I have to leave the BAU? Oh my gosh, she hates me.

“I’m Emily. I’m guessing I’ll be seeing you a lot more then and I’ll be honest, I definitely don’t mind that. What’s your brother’s name?” Instantly relieving you from your disruptive thoughts, as if she could read you like a book, which didn’t come as much of a shock because it was part of what she did for a living. Emily. It suits her. Emily...Where have you heard that before?

“Emily Prentiss? Aaron talks about you guys all the time, no wonder you felt so familiar.” Laughing, you recall all the moments your brother told you about the team.

“Wait, Hotch is your brother? Oh my gosh, you’re the girl in the picture frame. Oh no, We teased him about that for months.” Emily winces with embarrassment as she remembers the photo of Hotch as a teenager standing with, apparently, you. In light of her recent discovery, she makes a mental note to apologize to Hotch about the dozens of times she teased him for still keeping a picture with his childhood crush, which she was now finding out was actually his sister.

“That would be me. Don’t worry though, I’m sure he’ll let it slide. I’m so sorry, I actually have to go if I want to make it home on time.” Dreading the goodbye that escaped your lips, you frowned, saddened to have to leave the woman.

“No, no, I understand. I’m sure Jack is waiting, and I have a certain blonde waiting behind me as well.” Suddenly aware of who you assumed was Penelope, You smiled as you realized that talking to Emily had made it felt like you two were the only people in the pumpkin patch.

“Better not keep her waiting, tell Penelope I say hi...and sorry. I’ll see you on sunday.” You take a step backwards, not ready to turn away from her.

“I will. Have a nice night with your pumpkin, I’ll be waiting for your call.” You give her one last smile as you finally tear away from her, walking towards the checkout with a giddy expression.

As Emily walked back to Penelope, she readied herself for the scolding she was about to receive.

“My pumpkin. My beautiful, beautiful, festive pumpkin...you let it get away in exchange for a date. That’s just cruel to me and all our fellow festive co-workers.” She snaps at Emily, still at the girl who was now walking away with the orange winter squash in her hands.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find another one. She says hi and sorry, by the way.” Emily begins walking, scanning the hay bales in search of another pumpkin.

“Well, that’s nice...of a pumpkin snatcher.”

“That pumpkin snatcher is Hotch’s sister.” Emily responds in the most nonchalant way, determined to not let Penelope hear her. But of course, the brilliant blonde girl catches it. And in her sassiest voice she responds with,

“OOO...you’re going on a date with Hotch’s sister.”

“Oh, darling, you will be good to me, won’t you? Because we’re going to have a strange life.”

- Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms

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prorevenge · 4 years ago

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Talk to me anyway you please? Nah... have fun loosing the entire staff along with the juiciest of juicy contracts.

This is a super throw back but it still brings a smile to my face. Also, my writing sucks so please excuse the grammatical errors.

I was a rink rat growing up. The only day I wasn’t in the skating rink were the adult and gay nights (calm down, it was the 90’s and that’s literally what it was called). Friday night, Saturday morning and night along with Sunday morning and night I was there. Hell, I didn’t even leave between the morning and night sessions. I even went Tuesday nights as well! I was serious too. I dove deep into speed skating and not trying to toot my own horn but I was pretty good and well known.

Anyway, I’d been going to this specific skating rink for years and knew EVERYONE. One day, It was right before I started 7th grade, the owner came up too me and asked me to go out onto the rink floor and tell some kids to slow down. I did and came back and he asked me how would I like to make $7.50 and hour to which I responded “do I also get in for free?” He laughed and said of course. BOOM! First job and I wanted to be there anyway so it was the biggest win-win of all time for me. To say I loved it was an understatement and I did everything besides work the snack bar. DJ, skate counters, floor guard, janitor, hype man... you name it and I did it. It was some of the greatest times of my life. So much fun and the owner was super awesome. Also, we were paid under the table so getting an envelope full of cash every week just felt like a bonus for having fun. To me it wasn’t a job, it was pure fun. It also helped that all my friends were regulars as well.

A few years go by and the owner sold to another guy who we will call Tim. Tim could be an absolute nightmare to work for. He changed the entire dynamic of the place and everyone felt it. Now, this skating rink was POPULAR and extremely old. Lots or people all over the city knew of it. My mom and aunt skated there when they were kids if that tells you anything.

Someway or another the new owner set up and juicy deal that had the rink started making a shitload of money! On Saturday night from 7-11 it was skating per usual but from 11-2ish/3ish is was a club. A local hip hop station came in there with local label Swishahouse and turnt the place upside down for those few hours. Every week and the place was POPPIN. There must have been over 2k people in there on average and at $20 per person it adds up quick plus the snack bar would NEVER stop turning out food and drink. We were making stupid money. Bonus! We also found some good stuff when cleaning up as well. Money, knives, weed, jewelry... It was awesome.

So Tim has it made but sometimes he would fly off the handle for little things. All of us weren’t sure what his deal was but he would explode out of nowhere and start talking all kinds of nonsense. I’d started to have enough because we all had worked there for many years WITHOUT ISSUE. One night he went too far..

I don’t like being called outside of my name. It’s a respect thing. My own mother didn’t do it and he for sure wasn’t. For context I was in 10th grade now. One night he was in some kinda mood and for whatever reason was taking it out on everyone. I don’t remember the exact situation but he started freaking out on me at about 11:30PM. Now, Slim Thug and Paul Wall were in the building that night so the place was extra packed. Waaaay more that usual (I’m sure we were braking all kinds of fire marshal rules lol). He went ballistic and called me every name in the book while I just stood there with rage building up in me. I’d had enough. For years this place ran flawlessly and everyone loved us so he really didn’t have a good reason to treat us in the manner he did. My plan was formed. I immediately gather everyone else that was working and we all decided that enough was enough. It was time for a lesson.

I assembled the entire crew and well all quit on the spot. ALL OF US. That meant nobody to serve food, clean, help the swishahouse people, or just carry out general things that needed to be done when 2-3k people were in the building. He was stunned, his tone changed and he became very sweet. We weren’t having it. As an additional fuck you I called the other two people that were off and they showed up to quit as well. Tim had already reached out so he assumed they were showing up to work. Nope. We left him with zero workers on the absolute busiest of busy nights and boy did it implode. He couldn’t find anyone to work so the place went to absolute shit that night. The on duty officer told him he needed to figure something out or he was going to close it down without workers. Well... he didn’t. It closed down that night and apparently without staff it got nasty. People started having sex, smoking, trashing the place and all kinds of stuff. Shortly after the radio station and label took their business elsewhere and not long afterward the place closed down. He lost his entire investment. This was very bitter sweet for me because I loved the place but he ran it into the ground. The building is still standing and I would LOVE to bring it back to its former glory but my pockets are deep enough yet. Maybe one day.

TLDR: New skating rink owners treated employees horrible so we all quit at the same exact time to leave him stranded. He lost a big contract with a local radio station and popular record label which cost him big money. Rink closed down shortly after.

(source) story by (/u/JawShoeWaah)

#prorevenge #by /u/JawShoeWaah #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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