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kaikishoku · 2 years ago

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(short story) first contact.

4312 words.

Every day is the same as the last.

5:30 AM: Wake up. Lay in bed for roughly half an hour staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the metal ceiling above, wondering how they're even still sticking after all this time.

6:00 AM, give or take ten minutes: Get up and go to the bathroom. "Freshen up," as Sara might have said back on The Surface, with peachy toothpaste carefully pushed out of an almost-empty tube with the back of a transparent blue toothbrush that has definitely seen better days, taking the smallest amount possible on the tip of the brush and using it. Afterwards, splash cold water (which can't be made any warmer than the northern Atlantic ocean was rumored to have been back in the day) to both wash off any bubbly toothpaste residue, and to immediately get rid of any last final traces of sleepiness. Drag a brush through unkempt sleepy hair, struggle to get it into a ponytail, and then decide the loose bun is good enough for government work.

6:15 AM: Say hello to the Founders on the way from the dormitories (occupancy: 1) and stand in front of the breakfast vending machine in the cafeteria attempting to decide what exactly to eat that day. Pancakes, waffles, overcooked scrambled eggs, toast, yogurt... The possibilities appear endless, but appearances are deceiving.

6:30 AM: Sit down at the best seat in the house (the one by the wide windows depicting some city in the world; today is New York City, maybe, or Toronto; it's always been hard to tell those two apart in the movies, and there's no way to reference them in real life now) with the same breakfast chosen from the machine: two pieces of toast and banana cream yogurt.

7:00 AM: Wash tray, then head to the second floor. First up: The Arboretum. Check the Temperate Zone 6 and see how the redwoods are doing, along with their associated flora, and then go around to the other zones in order from favorite to least favorite. Do the same for the botanical gardens, starting in the desert to see how the cacti are faring because they, like the redwoods, are a favorite.

3:00 PM: Buy a pack of cinnamon gum and a bag of dill chips from the lunch vending machine. Continue plant research while eating.

6:50 PM: Check message center. Empty, as usual.

7:00 PM: Sit down at the master computer and record the log for the day, though the words are exactly the same as the day before. "Elia Myste, researcher and observer on the Regalia. Environmental studies continue to flourish, and while The Surface still looks rank as ever from the bridge, I have hope that reintroduction will succeed once I'm given the clear. Elia Myste, signing off."

8:10 PM: Get ready for bed with the same routine and gusto as in the morning.

8:30 PM: Lay in bed staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the metal ceiling above, wondering why anyone would stick them up on a ship destined to be hanging above The Surface in space anyway.

10:00 PM: Fall asleep.

Rinse and repeat. Even changing it up every so often, like getting a coffee to go with breakfast—something Elia decides to do today, crouching to take the canned drink from the vending machine aptly labeled BEVERAGES—doesn't make the day actually feel any different. The plants they take care of will still be alive and healthy, kept at perfect temperature for their needs and free of disease or pests; no messages will show up on the master computer when they boot it up; and the glow-in-the-dark stars that keep them company at night will continue to stick to the metal ceiling as if hot glued there.

Despite that, Elia finds one of the stars fallen onto their bed when they stop back by their room to pick up a blanket. They stare at it, iced instant coffee numbing their fingers, and look up to see if they can figure out which constellation—none of them familiar, or even recorded in any of the station's books—it came from. The effort is a waste of time and completely fruitless; they don't find where it fell from, and the ceiling is too high for them to put the star back up without having to locate a ladder.

"Well," Elia says to themself, turning the yellowish-white plastic decoration around and squinting at the smooth backside (how did it stay up there in the first place?), "I guess you're my new partner. Let's go, uh..."

They pause, holding the star up to the cold, bright lights of the space station.

"...Estella?" They try, then shake their head. "No, we can't have two E's on this station."

'I must really be lonely,' they think after a moment, pocketing the piece of cheap plastic and picking up a red and orange blanket that's seen much better days. 'I'm talking to some old, crappy decoration that's been here longer than I have.'

Elia still finds themself taking it out every so often throughout the day, adding something new to their usual routine; while it does not get any less ordinary or boring to look at, it does offer them something else to play with aside from their pen or the keyboard on their miniature laptop the institute had provided for record-keeping of the plant variety. They begin to notice little other differences in their day as well post-starfall, like a few new bright pink blossoms on a desert cactus that had seemed completely against the idea of flowers, a different color and swirl in the clouds on the planet below, and a new and picturesque view on the cafeteria's windows—the Pitons, located in St. Lucia. Elia vaguely remembers visiting them on a class trip before things had become completely unlivable on The Surface. It's enough to have them looking forward to the end of their day to see if the message center has any news waiting for them—something to tell them that it's alright to start the journey back down, or maybe a simple happy birthday for all the years they've been without congratulations...

Disappointingly, though unsurprisingly, the message center is as barren as ever. Elia waits ten minutes, willing something to show up before they sigh and shove off to go record the day's log instead. Two clicks puts them in the application, a red recording light flickering on, and they withhold a second, longer sigh in favor of getting this part of the night over with so they can go to bed and resume their boring, everyday routine.

"Elia Myste, researcher and observer on the Regalia," they begin, leaning back in the black office chair that used to be quite comfortably plush but has since been pressed flat with how often it's found itself occupied (and sometimes slept in, though it was more common back when they thought there might have been a chance at anyone contacting them). "Environmental studies continue to flourish. Three new blooms occurred today, and a new sapling was found growing in a spare space. While it's not going to live very long considering the root structure around it, the fact the trees can breed without the assistance of other animals or human intervention is a welcome sign of self-sufficiency. The Surface had a small change of color, at least in the part the Regalia is currently over, but we're still message-less over here—so I assume we're not ready for reintroduction yet."

Elia taps the desk in front of them, then continues: "I have hope that it will succeed once I'm given the clear, however. Elia Myste, signing off."

The recording light turns off with another click, and Elia starts to get up; a flashing icon in the corner of their eye makes them pause, and they slowly sit back down as they register just what app it is: an old messenger application installed on all systems located in the research facility. It had had its uses back in the day, or so they presume, but not once since working here had it ever shown any sign of life.

Until today. They tap it quickly, heart so far up their throat they feel like either they might pass out from a difficulty breathing, or they might just get sick all over the expensive and irreplaceable computer in front of them. The first feels more likely as a cutesy bunny mascot pops up on the screen, juggling letters before they scatter across the application's screen, and the rabbit freezes picking them up—the logo of QuickMess, they guess, and they drum their fingers on the mouse impatiently as they wait for the UI to load.

Four updates later, they can finally access the message, and Elia can barely hear the click of their mouse over the blood rushing in their ears.

H.CASTI: Hi there! I don't know if anyone's out there, but I found this app on one of the old computers down here?

�� H.CASTI: I'm Hiros B T W! Looking forward to a reply!

It isn't a name Elia recognizes, but the message is fresh—extremely fresh, like this-was-sent-within-the-last-ten-minutes fresh—and they waste no time with a reply, grimacing at their typos only in the aftermath of it.

E.MYSTE: holy siht are you fro real

God, whoever this 'Hiros' person is was going to think them an uneducated idiot. That immediately doesn't matter as Hiros' next reply comes in seconds later.

H.CASTI: O M G! Sure am! What's your name? What's it like above the waves? Have you heard from anyone else?

H.CASTI: Oh, and what's your favourite colour?

Elia doesn't even think they have a favorite color anymore, or if they did, it'd been quickly taken over by the fresh green that comes with the lushness of healthy, happy plants. They wipe their palms on their blue jeans, wetting their lips—they have no idea why they're so nervous when it isn't even like this person is here, and hell, maybe this wasn't even a real person but some kind of chatbot triggered after a certain amount of time to keep researchers from going absolutely stir-crazy with no social interactions. It seems stupid for it to only show up after all this time, but seven years might be its time limit.

Whatever. Elia types their replies as quickly as possible, backspacing a few times with a swear when their mind goes faster than their fingers and fumbles another set of awkward, embarrassing typos. They aren't going to keep making mistakes like that—on the off chance it isn't some kind of bot, they really don't want to come off as a total idiot.

Hopefully, they haven't already done so.

E.MYSTE: elia

E.MYSTE: cold and dark and kind of lonely

E.MYSTE: you're the first hence the insane typing

E.MYSTE: and green i guess

H.CASTI: Oh L O L I see! Nice to meet you Elia! The Surface doesn't look dark though? On my screens it's proper bright, but I guess you might be somewhere with perpetual nighttime? I lived somewhere like that for a right bit. Guess that's why I'm so cool with it! Or cold L O L.

H.CASTI: My favourite colour is vermilion B T W.

The idea that it might be a chatbot takes root a little more firmly in their mind considering the way Hiros types—it's outdated and reminds them more than a little bit of their grandmother back when they used to keep in touch on "the social medias," as she had liked to put it. Elia is ninety percent sure that she had only called it that to irritate them, though. Frustratingly, it did every time.

Their attention returns to the screen as they see H.CASTI is typing... again, and they're glad their coffee is long-since finished, or else they might have choked on it when Hiros stops typing, and the message flashes onto the screen.

H.CASTI: Do you want to video?

E.MYSTE: i

E.MYSTE: yeah i do letme jsut grab soemthign to eahr with

So much for making less mistakes and not looking like an idiot. Elia drops to the ground and yanks open the bottom drawer of the desk, rifling through it; as they do so, they hear a gentle beeping from the computer, and they bang their head coming back up with a pair of unopened earbuds. They cut the pad of their thumb opening it, but manage to shove at least one in before they hit to accept the video call. The screen goes black, three blue dots blinking one after the other in the middle of it as the signal struggles to connect, and they tap the desk, leaning in.

"Come on, come on, come on—"

The three dots all light up at once, and for the first time in seven years, Elia sees another living, breathing human being. Hiros is the palest person they've ever seen, even before boarding the Regalia; if they weren't in such a well-lit room, Hiros would look more like a rescue beacon than another human being, and Elia tries to match the bright, puppy-like energy Hiros directs to them with their own smile.

It feels awkward instead, and Elia drops it; their reflection in Hiros' round glasses, frames almost too big for the other's face, mimics them. The next thing Elia notices is how red Hiros' hair is and, paired with their wide, hazel eyes, marks them as being of Irish descent—not to mention the peppy, jovial accent that rounds out their speech as they break the silence.

“How're ya? Ya seemed frazzled o'er the chat-thingy here, so I thought ya might be a wee bit better speakin'.” Hiros leans into the screen, obscuring Elia's view of them entirely; their voice is soft but masculine, so tentatively, Elia assigns them as 'boy' for the moment. “Right pretty ya are though, aren't ya! Love your earrings—can't stand those long hangin' ones myself, get all caught up in my hair—right pain it is.”

Elia finds their voice with a short laugh, covering their mouth with a hand. “Thank you. It's— it's nice to meet you, Hiros. I just can't believe it,” they continue, leaning back in their chair. “Someone else. How long's it been since you spoke to someone? Seven years for me.”

“Oh, well, probably just about the same.” Hiros moves back again, pushing his shaggy red hair behind his ears; four piercings shine briefly in the light, three studs and one short crescent moon dangler. Warmth surges through them at the sight—it's nice to see the two of them match in some small way, as coincidental as it's bound to be. Hiros adjusts his black jacket over his cream white shirt, and Elia discovers it's easier to relax than they thought it'd be as they realize that he's just as nervous as they are. They put the other earbud in, resting their head against their hand as Hiros clears his throat and continues. “So? Surface? What's it like?”

Elia blanks, then realizes it's a continuation from their conversation on the app. “I'm not on the surface—I'm on a space station. The Regalia. Heard of it?”

“Oh!” If Hiros could grin any wider, they're sure he would be, but he's thankfully stopped by the constraints of the human face. “Regalia, yeah. Went up some time before I got shuttled down here. I'm in the, uh... What's the yoke's name... Sguaba Tuinne. Named after Manannán mac Lir's boat.”

The grin wanes a little, and Hiros mimics Elia's position, slouched back in his chair. “Guessin' yer guess is as good as mine when it comes to what's goin' on up there—down there for ya, I guess—then.”

Elia smiles in a way they hope is as apologetic as they feel and wishes Hiros would sit back up again so they could judge it in his glasses. Maybe it's time to add practice expressions in the mirror so you don't come off as a total weirdo next time to their schedule. Sometime before laying down to sleep, or more accurately 'trying to sleep', they guess.

"If it's any consolation, I've got good news from up here. I don't know what they've got you watching over, but I'm in charge of—flowers, plants, trees, all of that. Every biome that existed on Earth before the whole..." Elia makes a circle in the air with their fingers. "Thing, yeah. Anyway, it's—it's going well. New blooms. Healthy specimens. Ready to replant whenever I'm given the go-ahead to land back down."

"Ooooh," Hiros replies, leaning in; the screen casts a glare on their glasses, illuminating them like the moon and obscuring their eyes. "Meteorologist. Keepin' an eye on the weather up there from down here—lots o'storms, lots o'sun, lots o'changes. Would've had a station on the Surface if not for the whole—"

Hiros grins as he mimics their air circle, his long fingers gracefully ducking in and out of the computer's bright light.

"Thing, yeah."

Elia's grateful for the dark color of their cheeks; not too many people notice when they blush because of it, and Hiros seems to be no exception as he settles back in his oversized office chair. A meteorologist and a phytologist—certainly two important types of people to have keeping an eye on things and working towards reviving the world. Hiros rests his cheek against his knuckles as he continues on, the screen shining off a ring on his right middle finger.

"I watch air quality an' all that too—doesn't matter if the extreme weather up top settles down if we can't breathe it, yeah? Though yer plants oughta help a wee bit with that once they're rooted." Hiros smiles, but it's hard to tell how genuine it is with his eyes half-hidden by the glare of his glasses. "Ya keepin' tabs on soil quality too, Elia?"

They nod shortly, instinctively moving their cursor to their second screen to bring it up; with some wrangling, they manage to pull it in view of the camera, the monitor arm behind it squealing in defiance at being used for its intended purpose at long last. It only occurs to them after a long moment of silence that Hiros probably can't read a thing on the screen, and they clear their throat, embarrassment making the blood rush to their ears again.

"So, uh—if you look here... This one on the left monitors everything in the space station's nursery. This one's for the desert room, specifically for a shadscale zone—that's a zone with a high salinity, er, salt content, in its soil. Places like southwestern Nevada have this." They click through a few folders, different sections of the Great Basin Desert flipping before their eyes until they murmur a little ah-ha and select the one they're looking for. "And here's an area with a shadscale zone on the Surface itself."

The colors couldn't be more different: while the one in the space station is a bright orange with yellow running through it, the one on the Surface is a pale, sickly white, its ridges mapped out in bright blue. Elia stares at it, half smiling, and traces the map.

"So—there's a regular amount of salinity in the one on the ship—right temperature, right precipitation, right everything. Absolutely perfect, ideal, like I've got my own little piece of this particular desert... and I guess you can say I do. But over here," they tap the Surface's, not even sure if Hiros is following along but not willing to look over and see just how much they're embarrassing themselves, "here, it's all salt. Every single bit of it. Nothing's growing there—there's spots of that in this zone too, but it's not the whole thing, and the ones here flood every so often just like they're supposed to. Playas," they continue, pushing the monitor away a little bit. "They're called playas. Fascinating places."

"Why's it called a shadscale zone?" Hiros asks, his voice peaking at the end in blatant curiosity, and Elia chuckles—it feels so much like when they'd assist their professor in university.

"Shadscale is the name of a plant—also known as the spiny saltbush; it's commonly found around areas like this, especially salt flats. They're evergreen bushes native to the western U.S. and northern Mexico. Fun fact: they're in the same family as the amaranth flower."

"Ya grow those too?" he asks, and Elia grins wider.

"I said I've got everything up here, don't I?"

They go through a few more zones and plants like that, Hiros asking questions and Elia's worry that his interest is purely out of politeness slipping away as quick as the time does from them. They only notice how late it's gotten when Hiros catches a yawn in his hand, eyebrows knitting together apologetically.

"Not usually up this late," he says, his gaze darting to the corner of his screen; Elia does the same to theirs and bites back a wince as 10:51 blinks at them. "What's the time on yer end?"

"Ten-fifty-one... at night. You?"

"We're not too far off, are we? Not continents at least." Hiros stretches, the microphone catching the creak of his chair. "Closin' in on two in the morning here."

"I sat down at seven..." Elia rubs their face, mentally counting the hours—their first contact with another person in years, and they'd spent almost four hours talking to them? It doesn't seem real—doesn't feel real—but the soreness in their throat surfaces to confirm their numbers. They cough, wishing they'd brought a water or can of tea over. "Sorry to keep you, especially with boring plant talk—"

"Weren't borin' to me," Hiros interrupts; he's grinning when Elia's gaze snaps over, and they get the feeling he's been directing that expression at them for a while now. "I like watchin' people talk when they're passionate 'bout somethin'. They get a li'l twinkle in their eyes."

He taps the left side of his head, then gives them a wink. Elia coughs and looks away, busying themselves with turning off their extra monitors. They stop when they get to the last one, the one with Hiros on it, and hesitates. Their hand settles back on the desk, just shy of the mouse, and they sigh.

"Guess this is good-bye for now," they say, but they make no move to turn the communication off.

"I'm guessin' so," Hiros replies, but he doesn't move either, and the two of them sit in a silence that feels like it's trembling. What if this is the last time they speak? What if something happens to one of them, or to the communications center, or the program itself? Elia curls their fingers against the desk, questions rising like the waves their newfound companion lives far beneath. They're almost certain that Hiros is asking himself the same questions with the way his smile turns a little sad, thick eyebrows pressing together.

Elia sighs, counts to three, and banishes the thoughts from their heart. They smile brightly, knowing it's forced by just how awkward it feels on their face, and give a little wave.

"Let's talk in the morning, okay? Or afternoon, whichever. You're a few hours ahead of me, so I'll let you pick."

Hiros blinks, but returns their smile, drumming his fingers on his desk audibly. "Ten your time, one mine. I tend to sleep-in anyway—bad habit of mine. Never died after college. Ta-ta for now, Elia."

"Ta-ta," Elia repeats, and their heart aches with the silence and loneliness that folds over them when the video call ends. The ship comes back into focus as their attention draws away from the computer screen: the hum of its engines as they stay in orbit of the Earth, the buzz of the lights above them, and the electric harmony of the systems that keep them alive so far from a home that would kill them to step back onto—

And, most of all, the quiet that signals to them that they truly are the one and only person on this ship. Elia draws their knees to their chest and presses their face into them, taking in a deep breath and holding it until their lungs feel fit to burst. Did Hiros feel that way now, realizing just how lonely it was to be alone in the cataclysmic aftermath of human contact? Had he ever gotten used to the quiet, or did being underwater afford him company they could only dream of? Elia can't imagine that fish are very good conversation partners, but then again, neither are trees or the stars that send their light careening through millions upon millions of miles of pitch-dark space. At least fish move and react and feel alive. Flowers and trees move too, but it feels fundamentally different—active versus passive, maybe—and Elia sighs as they finally pull themselves from their chair and make their way to the washroom to freshen up for bed.

Their loneliness slowly transforms into excitement as they crawl beneath their covers and stare up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on their ceiling, finally locating the spot Estella had fallen from—they'll have to put it back up in the morning, they decide. Tomorrow—tomorrow they could resume their conversation with Hiros. Tomorrow they'd see him again, first thing in the morning. It's difficult to get to sleep with that thought hanging around their head and making their heartbeat quicken—they think about what to talk about, if they should dress differently or do their hair differently to put out a better second impression, if they should bring a flower or two to show off their progress, if...

They drift off to sleep as their thoughts turn to meeting up one day, somehow, some way, the blanket tucked tightly around them like a cocoon.

#short story #hiros casti #elia myste #sea and star series #lgbtq #(elia is nonbinary!)

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aztecbrujeria · 3 years ago

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Days Off and Rain Drops: Kirishima x F!Latinx Reader

*Thank you to @sendhelpimstupid for my commissioned piece of self indulgent Naraka OC x Kirishima on his day off enjoying company, I love this sooo much!! Find their commission post here.

NSFW/SFW TW/CW: Domestic fluff, Hints at some intimate time or making more kiddos...

Word count: 1.0k

*I love this maaaannnnn!!! and wanted to write a domestic piece as my friends really inspired me to keep trying the soft stuff.

It’s finally his day off when you wake up to the sound of rain hitting the panes of the window and roof above. Sitting up carefully you turned to see the mountain of a man snoring lightly beside you with one arm behind his head and the other on his chest. He looked like the sunspot boy that he used to be in highschool, he was now in his late thirties and tufts of grey mixed in with his fiery red hair and scars told stories of his victories, you smiled at this sleeping man and reached to squeeze his hand before you slipped out of bed. You walked to your kitchen in your undies and off the shoulder cropped MCR band Tee.

Once in the kitchen you rubbed the sleep away while you set up the coffee machine and turned it on to let the smell of pressed coffee fill the air. You began to hum to yourself as you rummaged through the fridge and pulled out some fruits and eggs. Once you got the fruit in the bowls you turned toward the pantry to grab Eijiro’s protein and Oats. You made him breakfast and grabbed your favorite mugs. When you got the tray ready you walked to the bedroom, you stopped at the door frame and felt your heart hitch at the serene scene before you, you chuckled to yourself as you saw him cuddling your large red dragon plushie that you never slept without. You walked toward the bed and set the tray on the nightstand and moved to his sleeping form.

Brushing the few strands of hair away from his face you cuddled up to him and took your finger to trace the bridge of his nose, “Eijiro, querido, wake up love. I have your breakfast and some hot coffee baby.” He smiled and cuddled the plushie harder, “Baabe...just five more minutes.” You giggled and placed a kiss upon his forehead, “Listen, Linda, if you don’t wake up and eat your hot breakfast you’re gonna have an upset Latina on your hands.” You watched his eyes pop open, vermillion hues looked up at you, and his smile lit up like 1,000 suns making your own smile spread like halloween came early. “Oh? Am I going to have an angry gem on my hands, hmmm?” He was so fast as he turned to pull you into his broad chest and pulled you down to bed. You squealed and giggled before you both stilled like you were waiting for something. When you both were satisfied with the coast clear he lay there brushing your hair from your face.

“Buenas Días mi cariño…” soft lips found yours and you let out a content sigh into him and reached up to cup his cheek. He broke the kiss to place warm, sensual, open mouth kisses along your jaw to the tops of your ample breasts, “No, no, no, giggling, let’s eat our breakfast and relax and drink our coffee. He moaned into you and squeezed your waist tighter, “Are you sure?” He continued to languidly kiss your skin, this time leaving a bruising mark upon your collarbone. “Ei! We only have this peace and quiet before our rock slide wakes up.” He chuckled, “Okay, okay, but I love when we get to just snuggle in bed on my days off.” You could feel him pouting against you and you smiled, “Well, you should have thought of that before you knocked me up five times.” Smirking and his eyes growing hungry, “You know, we can always add more.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Sir, you must have gotten your head hit by that villain a little too hard.” You pushed at his chest and he laughed letting you sit up.

You ate your breakfast together catching up quietly, talking about his job and working with Katsuki, Todoroki, and Midoryia; you watched his eyes light up whenever he talked about saving people. Finally finished with your breakfast he sat back against the headboard and grabbed the hot cups of coffee and opened his arms and legs for you to sit against him. Snuggling in he handed you your mug and he wrapped his arm around you bringing you closer to him. You relaxed and took a sip while he continued to talk about his work. You smelled his scent of cinnamon and citrus, reminding you of the encroaching halloween season, you didn’t notice when he stopped talking as his deep voice lulled you into a comfortable trance. “Gem? Did you hear me?” You snapped out of your thoughts and looked up to his twinkling eyes, “Hmmm? Oh, I’m sorry, what were you-...” You trailed off when you both looked towards the bedroom door as it creaked open.

“Mamá...Papá…” There in the doorway your rock slide started to filter in the the youngest of twins holding hands running towards the bed, thick unruly black curls headed towards the bed, Kiri’s booming voice greeted his kids and began to chuckle when they squealed with glee climbing up the bed. Your heart was full watching him kiss his kids and them hanging onto his broad shoulders while they began to ask him a ton of questions a mile a minute. You felt complete seeing the loving picture of him adoring his snuggles and loved that your kids all took after him, even if you were blessed with five rowdy boys that were going to be mountains someday too. “Papa, did you beat the bad guys?...When’s tío Baku coming?...” You counted to three and the rest of the kiddos finally came in, still rubbing the sleep out of their eyes, the oldest two came in and just fell asleep at the end of the bed while the other two also bombarded you for early morning cuddles and sneaking sips of coffee from their dad. “This is why they are Duracells like their Uncle Denki.” Kiri smiled down at you, placing a loving kiss upon your forehead, “Te amo mucho, mi corazón.”

#husbando #2d men #bnha eijiro kirishima #bnha fanfic fanart #bnha fan art #support artists #kirishima x plus size reader #kirishima headcanon #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha kirishima #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou #SoundCloud

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drawing-way-outside-the-lines · 2 years ago

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➖ Mature content, 18+ ➖ check the trigger tags each time ➖

Chapter 36 - December Sacrifice.

Episode 1. *Back at Adrian's place, they had been making out quite a while after Sam had left, and suddenly Raven pulled lightly away, observing Adrian with a soft gaze* Adrian: What? Raven: *He chuckled soft* What? Adrian: You're starring. Raven: *He chuckled again, looking down, somewhat shyly* Adrian: *He grabbed both of Raven's hands, squeezing them lightly* What's on your mind? Raven: I'm afraid if I keep saying it, you will get annoyed with me again* Adrian: No *he shook his head lightly and smiled* If you feel it, you should say it.

Raven: .... I love you, Adrian.... and I wish this would never have to end.

Adrian: *He leaned in, planting a couple soft kisses on Raven's lips, then let go of his hands and sat up straight* I'm kinda getting hungry... how about we go downstairs and find something to eat?

Raven: *He nodded soft* Can I... borrow something to wear or?

Adrian: *He smirked cheekily* You can wear yourself to my fireplace and light a fire. There's a blanket on the couch you can wrap yourself in, if you want more than that.

Raven: *He smiled bright and quickly sat up, then disappeared* Are you coming? *he yelled teasingly from downstairs*

Adrian: *He chuckled amused and grabbed his cigs, lighting one on his way to the ladder*

Raven: What kind of breakfast do you usually eat?

Adrian: Coffee *he snorted and jumped the last step down on the floor, walking to the kitchen and quickly got his coffee machine started* But when I'm actually hungry, I mostly eat some type of eggs, cereal or some bread toasted on the pan in butter, typically with melted cheese on top..

Raven: I have noticed you have peanut butter *he said and opened the fireplace, stacking some woods*

Adrian: Mhh... you like that?

Raven: Yeah... I don't eat it often, but Andy is a big fan of it so I have eaten it here and there for the company.

Adrian: Yeah, me too... that's actually why I have a jar... Andy *he chuckled soft and walked to the kitchen*

Raven: Do you need help?

Adrian: Nope.

Raven: *He chuckled amused and lit the fire with a quick spell, then sat down on the couch, wrapping himself in the cozy thick blanket*

Adrian: *He joined him about 10 minutes later, placing a food tray on his coffee table, slowly pushing it to the side, so there were more space for their legs. He grabbed a mug of coffee and handed it to Raven, sipping the other mug himself, before he grabbed a plate and handed it to Raven* It's nothing fancy, just scrambled eggs with bacon bits and chopped veggies and herbs from my garden. Well... from this past Autumn, before everything became too cold.

Raven: It smells really good *he smiled warmly*

Adrian: Dig in... maybe it's awful! *he grinned and grabbed the other plate, starting to eat*

Raven: You clearly know your way around a kitchen, Adrian! *he snorted and started munching* Mmmhh!!!

Adrian: That good?

Raven: Come on! This is insane! *he smiled wide* it's sooooo good!!!

Adrian: *He chuckled soft and continued eating*

Raven: So... amazing in the kitchen... amazing in bed.... amazing with cars.... where else are you amazing, Mr Blackwood?

Adrian: *He smirked lightly*

Raven: What?

Adrian: *Smirking more teasingly*

Raven: WHAT?! *He chuckled lightly* Tell me!

Adrian: *He took another quick bite and placed his plate on the table, then a sip of his coffee, before he placed it next to the plate, quickly grabbing Raven's cup and plate, placing them on the table too. He nodded at the floor and grabbed a pillow, throwing it down on the floor* Lay down.

Raven: *He looked at the rug on the floor, then back at Adrian* Are you serious?

Adrian: *He nodded lightly* Very.

Raven: *He chuckled curiously and got on his knees on the floor* Stomach or back?

Adrian: *He looked at Raven contemplative* Back.

Raven: *He chuckled lightly and laid down on his back, arranging the pillow under his head*

Adrian: Comfortable?

Raven: *He nodded lightly and looked at the fire in the fireplace, smiling from anticipation*

Adrian: *He slowly got on the floor as well, sitting next to Raven on his knees, as he reached for something on the table, the sound of a lit unscrewing, then he showed the opened jar of peanut butter to Raven with a cheeky smirk*

Raven: *He laughed loudly* this is not happening!

Adrian: Oh yes it is! *He chuckled hoarsely and stuck his fingers in it, lightly brushing his fingers over Raven's lips*

Raven: *He laughed even louder* Oh gawd! It's so sticky! Don't get it in my hair!

Adrian: *He chuckled amused and leaned over Raven* Lay still!

Raven: *He couldn't stop laughing*

Adrian: *He chuckled amused, and leaned in, planting a loooong slow lick over Raven's lips*

Raven: *A soft chuckle suddenly got interrupted with a soft moan*

Adrian: *He lifted an eyebrow and looked down at Raven* Mhm... now it's suddenly not so funny, huh?

Raven: *He bit his still mildly sticky bottom lip lightly, nodding soft*

Adrian: *He scooped a bit more peanut butter up, drawing a line over Raven's chest*

Raven: *He moaned at just the sight, as Adrian slowly lowered himself*

Adrian: *He planted a soft kiss on each side of the peanut line, then slooooowly licked it up*

Raven: *He moaned deep and longing* Fuck yeah *he whispered*

Adrian: *He drew another long line on Raven, this time going over one of his hips, then very slowly licked that off as well*

Raven: *He gasped softly from pleasure and arched his back* Adrianhhh!! *he chuckled lightly, surprised that the mechanic was so inventive, and could turn him on so extremely easy*

Adrian: Turn around he whispered and planted a soft kiss on Raven's lips*

Raven: *He bit his bottom lip again, and quickly flipped over*

Adrian: *He looked at his table, to see what else he could use, and to his delight he spotted a pack of new paint brushes he hadn't used yet. He reached for the pack, and dragged out medium sized brush, gently dipping it in his coffee, then very lightly started drawing on Raven's back*

Raven: *He moaned surprised and arched his back* Ohhhh Mr. Mechanic... *he sighed soft with pleasure* what are you doing to me?

Adrian: Mmhh *he said as he leaned down, gently sucking a bit of the coffee up* Owning your body...

Raven: *He sighed a breath of steamy air out* You certainly are!

Adrian: *He wet the brush again and drew a bit more, tracing Raven's body with the wet bristles*

Raven: Mmmmmmmmmmhhhhh fuck *he whispered*

Adrian: *Wetting the brush again, drawing more, loving the reactions from Raven*

Raven: Oh god yes!!! *he moaned soft and arched his back again*

Adrian: *More wetting, drawing*

Raven: OH Yes!!!! *He gasped for air, his body starting to tremble* just take me!

Adrian: Mmhh not so fast *he wetted the brush again, then lightly spread Raven's legs, running the wet brush over his hole* ❌Short sex scene START - readers must be 18+❌ ❌ (To skip sex scene, scroll till next marking) ❌

Raven: MMMMMNGGHHHHH!!!!! AHHHHH!!!! *He dug his fingers into the rug and arched his back further* Mmmmmoooreee!!!

Adrian: *He wetted the brush again, this time circling it around Raven's hole*

Raven: Oh gawd!!! OH GAwD!!!! Hnnnggghhh!!! *he pushed his butt closer towards Adrian, begging him for mercy* Please!!! *he whimpered lightly* Please fuck me!

Adrian: Mmmhh *he threw the brush on his table and pulled his boxers down, pressing his boner against Raven's hole* You sure you're ready?

Raven: *Speaking in a steamy voice* I'm more than ready! Please! I fucking beg you!

Adrian: Mmh.. *he moaned softly and very slow and gently let himself slip inside Raven*

Raven: Ohhhhh yeahhhhhhhhh *he came instantly*

Adrian: Again?

Raven: *He panted lightly and chuckled* This never happens!

Adrian: Mmmh *he scooped a hand under Raven, and felt his cum, slowly starting to move inside Raven* God you're *he groaned soft from pleasure* still so tight!

Raven: *He moaned deep and slowly grind his butt against Adrian* Then loosen me up!

Adrian: *He leaned down, gently biting Raven's shoulder, sighing steamy air out on his skin, moving in wave like formations, picking up a bit of speed and depth*

Raven: Aaaahhhhh!! *He moaned and dug his fingers further into the rug* Yesssss! Take me!!!

Adrian: *He moaned soft and got up on his knees, grabbing onto Raven's hips, firmly bouncing Raven's butt back and forwards, watching his dick glide in and out of the demon, groaning deep from pleasure*

Raven: *Loud pleasure filled moans escaping him*

Adrian: *Deep moans starting to escape him, the more he looked at and felt his dick gliding in and out of Raven, who gradually got wetter and wetter*

Raven: *His moan only growing louder and louder, till he exploded into an intense orgasm, and came with a loud roar*

Adrian: *He groaned deep and picked up speed, digging his fingers deeper into Raven's hips, pulling him more demandingly against himself, the more aroused he was getting*

Raven: *Loud long roars of pleasure escaping him one by one, grabbing onto the couch above him, drooling on the pillow, unable to remember when someone last made him feel this way! His body getting wet with sweat, his legs trembling, goosebumps springing on his entire body*

Adrian: *He moaned loud and surprised as he was just about to cum and grabbed onto the table, trying to prevent himself from releasing* Fuck!!! *He observed Raven and how his body was reacting, deciding it was probably best to finish him anyway, since it looked as if he was just on the edge anyway. So he grabbed onto his hips a bit firmer than before, and leaned over Raven so he was more raised above him, fucking him hard and deep, in a good steady rhythm without being too fast*

Raven: Oh ye-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-ah-ah-ahhhhh!!!!! *he stuttered between Adrian's pounding and roared loud, his roar getting broken by a light coughing, his head falling down on the pillow, his eyes rolling back in his head as another loud long roar escaped him, this time his whole body started to tremble, and he undoubtedly came with a soft whimper, gasping for air*

Adrian: *He moaned deep and started pounding just a tiny bit harder, adding a bit more speed, arching his back, and then, with a long hoarse roar, he came hard inside Raven*

Raven: *Another even louder roar escaped him, and then his arms fell down on the ground, his eyes slowly closing* ❌Short sex scene END - Readers must be 18+❌ ❌ (Congrats, you successfully skipped sex)❌

Adrian: *He groaned a couple of times, slowing down, and then he slowly came to a stop, panting hard a few times, before he slowly dragged himself out of Raven, and allowed himself to fall down next to Raven on the rug, sweat running off his temples and back* Damn! *He gasped for air, and reached towards Raven, gently caressing his lower back* Are you okay? *he panted lightly*

Raven: ... mmwuh? *he mumbled distantly*

Adrian: *He chuckled soft and rolled to lay on his side, observing Raven's face a bit closer* you're laying in a pool of your own drool *he chuckled lightly and reached out, gently swiping a finger over the corner of Raven's mouth*

Raven: *He slowly opened his eyes and looked at Adrian with drowsy unfocused eyes* what?

Adrian: *He chuckled lightly and stroke Raven's cheek* are you alright?

Raven: *He nodded soft* You completely ended me *a sleepy grin decorating his face*

Adrian: *He chuckled soft and shook his head* You're cute

Raven: *He grinned a bit wider* You're a sex god!

Adrian: *He chuckled lightly* Hardly... but thank you for the compliment *he sat up slowly and grabbed the ashtray, lighting a cig* Do you want a cig?

Raven: Too tired *he mumbled soft and closed his eyes again*

Adrian: *He chuckled lightly and grabbed the blanket on the couch, gently covering both their lower bodies* Are you comfortable enough to nap here, or do you want to go to the bedroom?

Raven: Mmh....

Adrian: *He chuckled soft and took a drag of the cig* I take it as we stay here *he reached for the table, just close enough to grab the remote control, and turned on a random program, not to watch anything, but just as a light background noise. He kept observing Raven while smoking his cig, gently stroking his hair or his shoulder here and there. And as he was done with the cig, he threw the rest in the fireplace and pushed the ashtray to a side, grabbing a pillow before he laid down all the way as well, facing Raven, observing him for quite a while, as he laid there so soft and peaceful, all drifted off, so perfectly relaxed, so elegant and beautiful* I love you *he whispered lightly, unaware of what he had just said, it simply came so natural. And then his eyes closed, and he fell asleep just minutes later.*

#Adrian Blackwood #Raven McKinney #Brandubh McKinney #unicorntales

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pines-troz · 4 years ago

Text

Those We Hold Dear - Animaniacs/Pinky and The Brain Oneshot

Summary: An introverted Brain finds himself feeling lost during the holiday party on the Warner Movie Lot. He manages to find some respite upon finding a pool table in the abandoned rec room. When Yakko unexpectedly invites himself in, the two engage in some casual conversation, then slowly open themselves up as they talk about their loved ones.

This story includes mild doses of Brinky and Non-Binary Wakko with he/they pronouns.

Word Count: 7,969

TW: Brief mentions of trauma, animal testing, and alcohol

Includes spoilers from the Animaniacs Reboot and references to the Pinky and The Brain spin-off cartoon.

Special thanks to @themurphyzone for beta reading!

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714374

Beginning AN: This fic was written because there aren’t enough stories where Pinky and The Brain interact with the Warners, and I feel like there’s so much untapped potential in terms of interesting character dynamics and I wanted to explore that with this story. I hope you enjoy this self-indulgent and very heartwarming fanfic.

As Christmas time drew near, The Warner Brothers movie lot was bustling with the spirit of the holiday season. Studios were dressed in Christmas decorations, and classic Christmas songs played over the speakers. And in the heart of the studio, the WB office was holding a special holiday party for the cast and crew of the Animaniacs reboot. Pinky and the Brain were among the invited guests, and the two mice strolled through the movie lot together as they made their way to the party.

Brain shook his head, still in disbelief that he and Pinky worked as part-time actors, and even more so that they were asked to return for the Animaniacs reboot after the original show had been off the air for over twenty years.

The small mouse remembered back in the early 1990s, when one of his initial plans for world domination involved him and Pinky breaking into the Warner Bros. studio to broadcast his homemade propaganda film. But while they infiltrated the studio, they were spotted by a small group of writers. When Brain explained in earnest that he and Pinky were ‘genetically altered lab mice trying to take over the world’, the writers were so amused and inspired that they brought the lab mice over to meet the studio executives and were hired right on the spot.

While having to act out failed plans to take over the world felt like a slap to the face at times, Brain quickly found the positive aspects of working on a popular television show. He and Pinky worked on set a few days a week (which saved them from having to undergo more painful experiments from the scientists at Acme Labs), they got along well with the other cast, crew, and various workers on the Warner movie lot. The mice also received truck loads of fan mail and fan art from viewers (and they put in the effort to express their gratitude by writing back to as many letters as they could), attended conventions even long after the show went off the air, and were invited to cast parties.

As much as Brain enjoyed seeing Pinky having a ball at the cast parties, he himself admittedly detested large social gatherings. If world domination was at stake, then Brain would be more motivated to be sociable; rubbing elbows with politicians, manipulating powerful individuals to do his bidding, and being one step closer to planetary conquest.

But Brain had no schemes up his sleeve. No ulterior motives, hidden agendas, or feasible plans for world conquest tonight. The mouse had put off all plans to take over the world off the table during the holiday season after having read Pinky’s unsent letter to Santa that fateful Christmas. From that moment on, Brain vowed to ignore his own lofty ambitions during the holidays and to put more focus on making Pinky happy.

The mice made sure to dress appropriately for the holiday party. Brain donned a red sweater and dark green pants. Simple festive colors, but nothing overly garish. Pinky, however, went above and beyond in his party attire, as he wore a green dress with candy cane prints all over and sparkly red shoes. Once they walked past the office doors, they approached the elevator. Brain retrieved his limb-enhancing device and pressed the button, which opened up the doors, and the two mice entered the elevator. Brain used the device again to hit the button for floor nine, and the elevator moved upwards.

“Oh this is going to be so much fun, Brain!” Pinky chirped, flapping his hands with excitement.

“Well if you’re happy, then I’m happy.” Brain affirmed, keeping a calm and orderly demeanor.

Once they reached the right floor, they exited the elevator and approached the large event space where the party was held. As they approached the doorway, they were immediately greeted by Yakko, who wore a red and white striped blazer in addition to his usual brown slacks.

“Hey, Pinky and the Brain!” Yakko greeted as he waved at them. “How are the fan favorites doing?”

“We’re doing well for ourselves, Yakko-” Brain’s response was interrupted when he felt a giant wet smooch on his left cheek. He looked over his left to see Pinky smiling at him. The smaller mouse looked at his roommate with a shocked and irritated expression.

“Pinky!” Brain berated his companion, as his cheeks began to flare up. “I told you, no frivolous displays of affection outside of the lab!”

“Poit! I’m sorry Brain, but, you were standing right under the mistletoe, and I just couldn’t help myself!” Pinky explained with a joyous giggle as Brain wiped off the saliva from the side of his face. The intelligent mouse looked up above only to find that dreaded yuletide plant taped to the doorframe.

“Hey sibs! The power couple just arrived!” Yakko addressed his younger siblings. Brain fumed at the eldest Warner boy, who shrugged and flashed a playful smile back at the mouse.

Dot arrived on cue, followed by Wakko, who greedily shoveled all the contents of the plate of appetizers (and the plate) into their mouth. The younger Warners dressed appropriately for the festive occasion. Wakko wearing an oversized blue sweater with a sequin snowman, and their iconic backwards red cap had elf ears taped to each side. In addition to her pink skirt, Dot wore a white sweater with a colorful Christmas tree and a reindeer antler headband.

“Pinky!” Dot greeted happily, skipping merrily towards the taller mouse. “Oh you look so adorable!”

Pinky jumped for joy as the Warner sister picked him up. “Oh, why thank you Dot. Zort! I actually had a little help from Brain. He used his knit-o-matic machine to put the dress together!”

Dot turned her attention over to Brain, who was still standing beneath her. “Hello Brain! Don’t go thinking that I forgot about you.” She said, giving a couple pats to his large head.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Brain bantered, but lost his guard when the middle Warner sibling scooped him into their hands.

“Oh what joy, Brain is here!” Wakko cheered, lifting Brain up in the air as he twirled around. “I was thinking about going around the movie lot and belching my favorite Christmas carols later tonight. Would you care to join me?”

“A tempting offer, but I’m afraid I have to decline.” Brain gently rejected.

“Okay, but the offer still stands if you change your mind!” Wakko insisted.

“Very well. Now would you be so kind as to put me down? I’m going to head on over to the refreshments table.” The mouse said.

“Say, I was going to grab some snacks too! And maybe we can eat over at the table together!” Wakko proclaimed, carrying the mouse as he made their way to the refreshments table.

“Well, I would be delighted to keep you company.” Brain answered honestly.

The mouse tried to keep his favoritism hidden, but of all the cast members he worked with, he enjoyed being with the Warners the most. While they may be a nuisance to the humans on the movie lot, they were quite friendly with most of the animal actors on the set. Brain was quite enamored with Yakko’s comedic banter, Wakko’s silliness, and Dot’s wit and charm, and while they playfully teased him on occasions, it was never out of any malice. But the one aspect he enjoyed the most was that they were never judgemental of him or Pinky.

Brain picked up the smallest plate from the stack and started picking out one of each cheese, a deviled egg, the second-to-last pig in a blanket, two baby carrots, and a jumbo shrimp. Wakko swooped in from behind, taking the last the last pig in a blanket and gobbled it up.

Brain looked over at the line of wine glasses and the various wine bottles behind them and figured that he could go for a nice glass of red wine. Despite his short stature, Brain found an easier way to access the alcohol as he spotted Ralph the security guard (who may or may not be off-duty), grabbing a handful of jumbo shrimp.

“Pardon me, Ralph.” Brain addressed the dim-witted security guard.

Ralph turned his head and looked around for a few moments before spotting Brain. “Duh, oh hi Blaine.”

“Actually, it’s Brain.” The small mouse corrected. “Could you do me a small favor and pour me a glass of the pinot noir.”

The security guard looked over at the wine bottles, scratching his head in bewilderment.

“It’s the reddish bottle with the picture of purple grapes on it” Brain curtly explained in layman’s terms

“Oh, uh right!” The imbecilic security guard affirmed. He grabbed the specific bottle and poured a little too much wine into the glass, filling it almost to the top. The mouse did not care that he had an excessive amount of wine. Lord knows that he needs enough alcohol in his system to get through this social gathering.

“Thank you, my good man.” Brain said politely.

“But wait a minute, how are you gonna drink from the glass?” The security guard asked.

“Already accounted for.” Brain reached into his pocket and pulled out a green swirly straw custom made for himself.

Wakko walked over to Brain, carrying two full trays of appetizers. The middle Warner sibling marveled at the swirly straw. “You have great tastes in straws.” He carefully picked up Brain and placed him on top of their red hat. Wakko managed to carry his own plates, Brain’s plate and the wine glass with relative ease as he waltzed over to the table.

“Thank you, Wakko.” Brain said gratefully.

“Your welcome! Oh, I was wondering if you wanted to hear about how I found myself in Paris?” The middle child asked. “I want to tell someone else besides my siblings about all the fun adventures I had.”

“Yes, I would love to hear some amusing anecdotes from your vacation.” Brain replied. The intelligent mouse was well aware that Wakko can be very passionate and talkative when it came to their interests, so he decided to validate the middle child with attentive ears.

Brain listened intently as Wakko continued to talk about their trip. The intelligent mouse felt relieved that he wasn’t the one who had to initiate the conversation. He could simply provide Wakko his undivided attention and listen to them reminisce over their trip to Paris. This was splendid!

“I visited the Eiffel Tower, The Louvre, and Notre Dame, but only from the outside.” Wakko said wistfully.

“The fire of Notre Dame was awfully devastating.” Brain added. “Forgive me if this comes off as a boast, but when Pinky and I visited Paris years ago we were fortunate enough to go inside the cathedral and climb the tower.”

“Really!” Wakko exclaimed, who was rather excited by Brain’s vacation story. “Oh, do you have any pictures?”

“Well of course! Just let me just find the vacation album on my phone.” Brain said, as he tried to retrieve his smartphone from his pocket.

“Oh, I forgot to mention how wonderful the crepes were!” Wakko added. “I had strawberry crepes, banana and nutella crepes, some egg and cheese crepes,”

But Wakko’s infodumping came to a crashing halt when Yakko stormed over to the table. “Wakko, did you take the last pig in a blanket?” The Warner brother interrogated.

The middle Warner sibling glanced guiltily towards Brain then back at their sibling. “Maybe?” The eldest Warner still held his suspicious glare at him, until Wakko finally gave in. “Yeah…”

“I knew it!” Yakko declared as he proceeded to put his sibling in a headlock, dragging them away from the table and into the center of the room. Wakko broke free and a battle between the older Warner siblings broke out.

“Oh, this oughta be rich!” Dot devilishly commented. She quickly grabbed her smartphone from her pocket and filmed the action.

Pinky was thrilled by the sudden action and further enabled the sibling rivalry. “Go, go! Give ‘em the ol’ one-two!” The mouse laughed maniacally as he punched the air. “Narf!”

Brain ruefully shook his head at the sibling shenanigans that took place. The small mouse knew better than to get involved, lest he wanted to be squished like a pancake or smacked so hard that he would crash onto the drywall. He found himself all alone again. He finished up his plate of appetizers when he noticed the new CEO, Rita Nortia, taking her place on the other side of the table.

The mouse suddenly felt compelled to speak with her. After all, she did play a significant part in hiring him and Pinky back for the reboot when they could have been cast off like the majority of his fellow cast members from the original show.

“Alright Brain, this is going to be a long party and you have to at least try to be sociable.” He told himself. The mouse then took a considerably long sip of wine to work the courage to speak to his new boss.

“Hello, Ms. Nortia.” Brain addressed, trying his best to sound friendly.

The CEO looked over at the mouse with an indifferent expression. “Wait a minute, I know you, you’re one of the mice playing second fiddle to those pesky Warners….Bran, is it?”

“Actually, it’s The Brain,” The mouse corrected, but suddenly changed his tone as he did not want to come off as bossy in front of his boss. “but I’m perfectly content with being addressed as Brain, if that’s most convenient for you. A-and I wanted to thank you again for including Pinky and myself in the reboot.”

“Sure, sure. You two were one of the more memorable parts of the original show.” Rita Norita replied, sounding rather unenthused. After a moment of awkward silence between the two, the CEO spoke up again. “Was there anything else you wanted to say?”

Brain was sweating nervously, feeling like a total waste of space. He could tell that she was a busy woman who was more occupied with work-related interests. The mouse tried his hardest to come up with an interesting topic of discussion. The weather? No, too cliche. The hottest Netflix shows? No way. He couldn’t bring up the competition in front of his boss. Those ridiculous Tik Tok videos that Pinky wouldn’t stop blabbering about? If he didn’t understand the appeal of those, what were the chances that the CEO would. The only other thing he could possibly bring up was-

“So, how about those sports?” Brain asked with a nervous smile.

Rita Norita stared blankly at the mouse. “What about them.”

Brain was caught tongue-tied. He didn’t know enough about the current state of any American sports team, so he decided to take a leap of faith and try to discuss the one sport he loved.

“Well, uh, would you be interested in hearing about the beauty and intricacies of rhythmic gymnastics?” Brain asked with a sheepish smile.

As the CEO was about to give another dry response, she was interrupted when a group of sharply dressed business people walked over to her.

“Ms. Norita, we have some very important business information to discuss with you.” One of them said.

“Finally, a riveting topic of discussion.” She exulted, immediately getting up from her seat. She shot a quick glance at the mouse. “You’ll have to excuse me, but I have more pressing matters to tend to.”

The CEO left the table with the other white-collar workers, leaving Brain to his own devices. The mouse propped his head up as he stared into his empty plate of appetizers, desperately trying to forget the mortifying conversation. If dying from embarrassment was possible, then Brain would already be in Heaven surrounded by an angelic choir of Pinkys.

“Hey Brain!”

Upon hearing the cockney accent he was so familiar with, he looked over his shoulder only to find Pinky taking off his dress and diving straight into the punch bowl. Through the clear glass, Pinky was happily swimming underneath the punch for a few moments. Once he broke through the surface, the tall mouse was giggling contentedly and he propped himself up on the side of the bowl to talk to his roommate.

“Oh Brain, you should try this!” The buck-toothed mouse called out. “The water is so refreshing!”

“No thank you, Pinky.” Brain replied, shielding his face from his roommate. He took another peek at the taller mouse. Pinky looked like a complete buffoon, but he looked like he was having the time of his life, swimming in the punch bowl without a care in the world. Brain, on the other hand, felt completely lost and isolated despite being surrounded by a sea of party-goers.

Brain walked away, trying his best to participate in small talk. Things seemed to look up when the Mime arrived.

“I suppose making small talk with someone who can’t talk back is better than not making small talk at all.” Brain pondered.

“You there, Mime!” Brain approached the silent performer. The Mime looked back at Brain and smiled back, giving him a friendly wave. The mouse’s self-esteem was starting to rebound.

“Say, do you want to hear a science joke?” Brain asked. The Mime gave an eager nod in response.

“Okay, well here it goes: One tectonic plate was walking along, bumps into another tectonic plate and said ‘Oops, sorry, my fault!’” Brain began to laugh heartily at his own joke, closing his eyes as he chuckled.

Once his laughter wore off, Brain looked over at the Mime simply shook his head while wearing a confused frown, shaking his head. The mouse assumed that the Mime did not get the joke.

The Brain felt defeated and gave a beleaguered sigh. “Well, I apologize for wasting your time.” The small mouse placed his hands into his pockets and walked off.

The intelligent mouse felt lost. With no plan for world domination to focus on, there was no important reason to mingle with the other guests. He decided to find the Warners and seek companionship from them. But he was disappointed when he witnessed the three keeping Ralph occupied in an intense game of ‘Monkey in the Middle’. The Warners wore mischievous smiles as they threw the security guard’s cap around much to the frustration of the bumbling officer. Brain could not bring himself to join in their merriment. Without his robotic man-suit, he could not possibly bring any meaningful contribution to the fun and would only stick out as a useless fifth wheel.

And he did not have the courage to try to strike up a friendly conversation with the other party-goers. His brief talks with Rita Norita and The Mime were proof that even when he shared his interests and musings to them, they could never reciprocate because they’re not on the same intellectual wavelength as he was.

No, he was only fooling himself. Perhaps the reason why felt high and dry was that he just could not relate to other people.

Brain watched Pinky, now back in his Christmas-themed dress, entertaining a few guests with his spit bubbles. The small group laughed at his ridiculous display. The taller mouse was completely in his element, charming people with his ‘fun-fun silly-willy’ antics. That feeble-minded fool made it look so easy.

“Perhaps Pinky is better off with other people.”

Brain furiously shook his head at the awful thought. “No, no, no. You’re just exhausted from attempting to socialize, that’s all.” He told himself. “Yes. All I need is a break, a place where I could temporarily wind down and recharge my energy before returning to the festivities.”

Brain walked down the hall in search for a place to ponder.

As he wandered down the hallway, he discovered an empty recreation room complete with a billiards table, a dart board, a stack of used board games, and a leather sofa. The pool table was pristine, with the fifteen balls gathered in their triangular shape and the cue ball standing on the other side. Brain decided to take the opportunity to play a game of pool against himself. The mouse picked up an unsharpened pencil from the bureau, climbed up the leg of the pool table and made his way to the top.

The mouse hopped off the wooden edge and onto the green walked baize, the tender felt brushing up against his feet with each step. Once he approached the cue ball, the mouse used the unsharpened end of the pencil and struck the white ball as hard as he could. He was not surprised that the cue ball lightly struck the top third of the fifteen balls ever so slightly.

“This is going to take a while…” Brain muttered to himself. “Fortunately, I don’t have anything better to do.”

The mouse observed the playing field, and noticed a solid red ball lingering near a corner pocket. Charging his pencil against the cue ball much harder this time, he saw the white ball glide down the table, hitting the red ball right into the pocket. Now all he had to do was strike the other solid-color balls into the pockets.

Fifteen minutes had passed since he started his solitary game of pool, and he only had three balls left. Wiping off the beads of sweat from his forehead, he looked over at the clock that was perched above the sofa. The mouse doubted that the other party-goers would be aware of his absence. Maybe Pinky would be too busy mingling with the other guests to even realize that he was gone.

“Some party, huh?”

Brain was startled at the sudden inquiry, his ears perking upwards. He turned around only to find Yakko Warner leaning against the doorway.

“Yakko….” The mouse grumbled. He feared that the boy would continue teasing him by bringing up the incident under the mistletoe. “Shouldn’t you be off terrorizing a certain psychiatrist?”

“Oh, you mean Dr. Scratchinsniff? He won’t be dropping by until around seven.” The eldest Warner sibling explained as he waltzed into the room. “So what are you doing here all by your lonesome?”

“As a reserved and introverted soul, social gatherings aren’t my cup of tea.” Brain confessed. “If world domination was on the line, then I would be more involved. But being forced to make idle prattle with co-workers in a secluded space can be quite tiresome.”

“I gotcha.” Yakko nodded, seeming to understand Brain’s plight.

“And how did someone as sociable as yourself wander astray from the festivities?” Brain inquired.

“I had to use the john.” Yakko answered frankly, pointing his thumb towards the door. “I was going to return to the party, but I heard the sound of a pool game going on and just had to investigate.”

“Excellent detective work, Hercule Yakko.” Brain remarked, to which Yakko chuckled in response.

“Say, can I join in?” The eldest Warner asked as he walked over to the racks. “It’s been a while since I played pool and you look like you could use a little company.”

“The more the merrier.” Brain dryly responded as he struck the cue ball with his pencil.

Yakko found a suitable cue stick and walked over beside Brain. He observed the pool table, noting the striped balls outnumbered the solid balls.

“So I’ll be aiming for the striped ones then?” Yakko asked.

“Correct.” Brain responded defeatedly. While he wished to finish up his solo game, he didn’t have it in him to tell the eldest Warner to leave.

Yakko carefully aimed his cue rack at the cue ball and fired away. He managed to hit two striped balls straight into the pocket. He then made another successful shot and hit two more striped balls into the opposite pocket. Feeling confident and theatrical, Yakko turned around and managed to hit another striped ball into a pocket without looking. He looked over at the playing field and back at The Brain. “Well, you got trouble my friend.” He quipped.

Brain looked up at Yakko for a moment before looking back at the pool with a grimace. After a moment of awkward silence, the eldest Warner spoke up again “Get it? Because we’re playing pool and I was referring to-”

“Yes, yes, I’ve seen The Music Man before Yakko, there’s no need to explain the joke.” Brain interrupted.

“So was the joke not funny?” Yakko asked with a twinge of worry.

“The joke was perfectly fine.” Brain assured upon noticing the boy’s sudden anxiousness. “I’m simply frustrated with my current state in the game and fear that the outcome won’t be in my favor.”

“Oh, is it because you’re a mouse? I can try to make some accommodations so that we’re playing on even grounds.” Yakko kindly suggested.

“No, no. The last thing I want is to be patronized and pitied.” Brain snapped, sounding more harsh than he intended.

Yakko backed off upon seeing the mouse’s frustration.“Okay, whatever floats your boat.” He replied defensively.

Brain’s face softened a bit, feeling guilty that he was a bit too hard on the boy. “If it’s any consolation, I have problems with my joke deliveries as well.” Brain lamented. “I tried telling The Mime a science joke earlier, but it fell flat.”

“Which one?” Yakko queried out of curiosity.

Brain fought his insecurities and mustered up the courage to tell the joke again. “One tectonic plate was walking around, he bumps into another tectonic plate and said-”

“‘Oops, I’m sorry, my fault’!” Yakko enthusiastically joined in as the punchline was delivered. The boy clapped his hands and started chuckling. “Ah, natural disaster humor.”

Brain softly smiled. Yakko missed this time around and Brain hopped back on the table, figuring out the best course of action to keep up with Yakko’s pool playing. After a couple minutes of playing in companionable silence, the intelligent mouse decided to throw an ice-breaker question to liven the mood.

“So Yakko, how have you and your siblings been doing lately?” The Brain asked in earnest.

“We’ve been doing swell!” Yakko answered in a chipper tone. “I mean, sure, we had our fair of challenges adapting to the current trends after being frozen in suspended animation for twenty-two years, but what can ya do?”

Brain looked a little concerned at the boy. The last time he and Pinky saw the Warners was in 1998, when they attended a cast party after filming of Wakko’s Wish had wrapped. During those years, Brain was consumed with his contributions to the age of the internet while Pinky attended his therapy sessions. All that time spent focusing on his world domination scheme and he forgot about his fellow cast members and all the good times they shared together. When Brain and Pinky received the fateful phone call from Warner Brothers that they and the Warners would be the only returning cast members for the Animaniacs reboot, he was worried that they would be mad at him for not keeping in touch. But when they arrived on set, the Warners were simply happy to see them again. But the Brain lost his train of thought when he heard Yakko speak up again.

“Not to mention the staggering amount of pop culture we’ve missed out on.” Yakko added. “Hey, did you know that there were two movie adaptations of How The Grinch Stole Christmas within the span of two decades?”

“Oh I’m well aware of that. Pinky actually dragged me to see both movies in the theaters.” Brain recalled. “And as you would expect, the feeble-minded fool thought they were cinematic masterpieces.”

“Outside of trying to stay relevant, we’ve been doing some fun sibling projects on the side, like this sculpture of Giuseppe Acrimboldo made entirely out of fruit!” Yakko happily reminisced.

“You mean, the famous sixteenth century Italian mannerist portrait artist Giuseppe Acrimboldo?” Brain inquired enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I managed to get a picture before that awful bun infestation got to him.” Yakko grabbed his phone and showed a picture of their sculpture.

“That’s quite impressive.” Brain marveled. While the mouse was not present during the awful bun infestation, he had heard stories of the incident from his co-workers. He could only imagine Pinky having a field day with the mass quantities of bunnies.

“I even had a whole song written about him too!” Yakko added.

“Well, I’m always eager to hear another one of your classic educational ditties, Yakko.” Brain encouraged. “I’m all ears.”

“I would if I could, but I forgot the majority of the lyrics.” Yakko forlornly replied. He picked up his cue rack and strategically planned his next move.

“Oh..” Bran uttered. The mouse tried to find another topic to bring up, but couldn’t help but think about the Warner siblings being locked away from the world for the second time. The mouse tried to bring up the topic as delicately as he could.

“Forgive me for prying, but can I ask you a question concerning your 22 year absence.” Brain carefully inquired.

“Sure!” Yakko acknowledged as he struck the cue ball, hitting the eight ball into the pocket and winning the game.

“Do you recall anything during your hibernation?” The mouse questioned.

“No, not really. The only thing I could remember was what happened before. After Wakko’s Wish wrapped, some studio bigwigs came up to me and my sibs. We were given the choice to either be cryogenically frozen or to be locked in the tower again. After thinking it over, I decided that being frozen in suspended animation was the better option. And the process wasn’t all that bad. It was like taking a really long nap.” Yakko answered truthfully. “And let me tell you, being frozen was a walk in the park compared to being trapped in the water tower for over sixty years.”

Brain’s ears drooped when he heard the sadness laced in Yakko’s voice.

“I love my sibs and would risk my life for them, but it was really hard having to watch over them without any assistance from the adults for decades.” The boy confessed. “I mean, I managed to get by just fine, but it was neither a bed or roses nor a pleasure cruise. During those years I had to come up with different ways to entertain my sibs and keep them occupied. I didn’t want them to start thinking about whether or not people missed them or were even aware that they’ve been cooped up for so long. One could say being trapped in that tower felt like-”

“Being an animal in a cage.” Brain quietly finished, feeling a deep sense of empathy for the boy.

Yakko stared at the mouse, amazed by how understanding he was of his past trauma. “Well, yeah…”

The Brain drew in a long breath and exhaled. “Believe it or not, I understand where you’re coming from.” He confessed, sitting on the edge of the pool table and holding the pencil in his arms.

The mouse could not believe what he was doing. In any other circumstance, Brain would never open up to his co-workers about his feelings or the past traumas he endured. Opening up meant being vulnerable. Being vulnerable meant feeling helpless and without control. He gripped the pencil tightly at the thought of not being completely in charge of himself. But Brain fought against his need to put up defensive barriers and decided to reveal his miserable and pitiful past if it meant providing the boy with some sense of solidarity.

“I was once a young field mouse who lived a carefree and happy existence with my parents out in the wild.” Brain reminisced. “But I was separated from my family at a tender age when a group of Acme Lab scientists abducted me from my tin-can home. From that day forward, I was imprisoned in the laboratory where I was subjected to cruel, emotionally-scarring experiments and used as fodder in the name of science and human curiosity.” His voice trembled as he exposed his past to the eldest Warner, but he soldiered on.

“The first friend I ever made was a hamster named Snowball, but when we went through the gene splicer, it had different effects on us. I gained advanced intelligence, while Snowball went mad with power, and we had a terrible falling out. But when it seemed that I was doomed to live the rest of my days isolated in the lab…” Brain paused for a moment and then continued. “But one day, a new lab mouse brought over to live with me in my cage. It was at that moment that Pinky entered into my life and...well, the rest is history.” He explained with a sad smile.

Yakko listened in with sympathetic ears. He never thought that anyone could relate to the pain of having his freedom stripped away and being locked against his will. But he also admired the mouse’s courage to tell his story anyways.

“Pinky really was my saving grace.” Brain admitted, aware of the affection in his tone. “His presence made being stuck in the lab more bearable. Sure, he may be imbecilic and dim-witted, but he’s also loyal, compassionate, and the best friend I could ever ask for.” After praising Pinky’s positive aspects, Brain’s smile slowly faded. “But sometimes I wonder why Pinky would want to be my friend, and other times where I feel like I don’t deserve to be his friend.”

“Well, how come?” Yakko cautiously inquired.

“Years ago, I promised Pinky that if I ruled the world, I would make it into a better place. A kinder place for social outcasts and marginalized individuals like him. But after so many years of trying and putting in the work, my destiny is still far from reach. And yet, he’s still standing by my side. It’s just...I don’t know what Pinky sees in me.” Brain sadly explained as he cradled the pencil in his arms. “Perhaps he’s much better off without me…” He sighed, letting the awful confession escape his lips.

Yakko sadly frowned at the downtrodden mouse, but he quickly knew how to cheer him up. “Oh I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“Well why not?” The mouse somberly asked.

“Maybe the reason why Pinky is attached to the hip is because he loves you.” Yakko suggested.

“Perhaps he does. His unquestioning loyalty to me is proof of that.” Brain pondered aloud.

“...and that you love him back.” Yakko added with a sly smile.

“What?” Brain cried out, sharply turning his head to face Yakko. “That’s preposterous! I don’t love Pinky, I merely….tolerate him.”

“Uh huh,” Yakko nodded, not buying his co-worker’s fib. “I guess your toleration must be pretty strong then.”

Yakko placed the cue stick on the side of the pool and walked over towards the mouse.“I mean, who else would sacrifice their chance at world domination on Christmas, go to the depths of h-e-double hockey sticks to save the guy after he sold his soul so you could rule the world, reunite him with his entire family after years of separation, save him from quicksand by embracing your wild side, teach him about the Constitution and upholding the values that make up our country’s democracy, and tend to his aid after the poor guy got pulverized by some crummy humans.” The eldest Warner detailed as he counted all of Brain’s deeds on each finger. Brain’s ears drooped as he heard him recall all of his past heroics when it came to helping the friend he loved so dearly.

“That’s going above and beyond for someone you merely tolerate, don’t you think?” Yakko concluded.

“W-who told you all that?” Brain blurted in disbelief.

“Pinky did.” Yakko answered honestly. “Why, just a few minutes after you left, Pinky started talking about all the great and amazing things you did for him. If you don’t believe me, the proof is in the pudding.” He fished out his phone from his pocket and showed Brain a video, with Pinky’s gleaming smile on the thumbnail. Yakko pressed play.

Pinky was gathered around a few of the party guests on the couch. Wakko and Dot sat closely by his left, and Jay Pac Le East Tha Rapper by his right.

“Poit! And when it came down to choosing the world or me, Brain chose me and decided to compete in rhythmic gymnastics to save my soul!” Pinky explained enthusiastically to his enchanted audience. “Oh you should have seen Brain! He looked so stunning in his marvelous blue spandex, prancing about oh so gracefully with his string-on-a-stick, and he scored a perfect ten! But that awful, no-good Mr. Itch cheated by rigging the competition in his favor and it seemed like Brain and I were doomed to be separated forever!”

Wakko and Dot gasped in shock and instinctively grabbed onto each other for comfort. Even Jay Pac was deeply invested in the story.

“But it turned out that he didn’t deliver on his original promise to give me my radish rose whatchamawhozit, so I was able to be with Brain again!” Pinky happily concluded.

Wakko stood up and applauded. “Oh how I love a happy ending!”

“Wow, my respect for Brain just went through the roof.” Jay Pac commented.

“You know, I never realized how cool Brain was until just now.” Dot admitted.

“He sure is!” Pinky gushed. “Brain is smart, he never gives up on his dreams, he wants what’s best for the world, and he’s the best friend I could ever ask for. Zort! I love him so much, and I know that he loves me too!”

“Pinky, can you tell us another story about The Brain?” Wakko asked enthusiastically, like a child wanting to hear another bedtime story.

“Pretty please, Pinky!!” Dot begged, giving her cutest pout and fluttering her puppy-dog eyes.

“Of course!” Pinky answered gleefully as he leapt up in the air and landed back on the couch. “Oh! I should tell you all about the time he helped me reunite with my mum, my dad, and my sis!”

As the video ended, tears started to pool in Brain’s eyes. He roughly scrubbed them away before they could fall, not allowing himself to become more vulnerable than he already felt. “Perhaps I don’t just tolerate him. Dare I say, I even like Pinky.” Brain half-confessed. He knew that he loved Pinky dearly, but he would never bring himself to verbalize his feelings.

“Actions speak louder than words, buddy.” Yakko retorted. “But I totally get where you’re comin’ from, though. Wakko and Dot mean the world to me.”

“Even though you wrestled your own sibling over something as petty as taking the last of your favorite appetizer?” Brain mentioned sardonically.

“Alright, so I have a problem managing my Cain instinct, guilty as charged.” Yakko answered.

“Sure, we drive each other bonkers sometimes, but at the end of the day, they’re still my sibs and I love them more than they could even know.” The boy smiled as he talked about his dearest siblings.

“But I still can’t help but wonder, what might happen in the future, after the reboot.” Yakko pondered with concern. “What if Wakko and Dot decide to go out in the world and do their own thing? Would they still need me? Would they want me around? And I don’t know how I’d do without ‘em because they’re the only family I’ve got.”

Brain felt his heart go out to Yakko. While the boy can be a nuisance and a smart alec, there was a lot of good in him. But he could also understand the boy’s fears. Yakko was as strongly attached to his siblings and his whole life revolved maintaining that relationship. The mouse pondered to himself until he found the best way to alleviate the boy’s worries.

The small mouse walked over to the eldest Warner brother and gently placed his hand on top of his. “Well, there may come a time when the three of you will go your separate ways and lead independent lives, but no matter how far apart you are, you’ll always maintain that strong familial bond.”

Yakko gave Brain an intrigued look. “What makes you so sure?”

“Pinky and I raised a son together.” Brain answered with a small smile.

“Since when?” Yakko asked with a baffled look on his face.

“It happened back in the late 90s. Roman Numeral One, or Romy for short. I initially planned to make a clone of myself and use him for global conquest, but one of Pinky’s errant toenails was muddled in with my DNA sample, thus creating a clone that modeled after the two of us.” Brain explained, still smiling as he reminisced. “Once Romy reached the age of reason, he departed from the lab and moved on to make a life for himself. Fortunately, Pinky and I are still on good terms with our son, and we would call him every now and again, just to see how he’s doing. And even though our boy is out in the world pursuing his own dreams, we still love him dearly and learned to maintain our familial bond despite the long distance between us.”

“So whatever happens in the future, I’m certain that you and your siblings will still be as thick as thieves.” Brain assured, giving the eldest Warner sibling reassuring pats on his hand. Yakko smiled back at the mouse’s kind gesture.

“But if you’re still uncertain about the future, I’ll guarantee this to you,” Brain added. “If I become the ruler of- no, no. When I become the ruler of the world, my palace doors will always be open for you and your siblings. And if any of you ever feel lost or lonely, Pinky and I will be more than willing to grant you companionship.” Brain offered his small hand out to the boy.

Yakko was eager with the proposition. “Well Brain, I was already rooting for you to take over the world, but now I’m twice as invested! You got yourself a deal!” The eldest Warner enthusiastically shook the mouse’s hand. The Brain gave a hearty chuckle, amazed at the boy’s excitement and encouragement.

“And Brain,” Yakko looked at the small mouse. “I’m really glad we had this talk...and thanks for everything.”

Brain could tell that Yakko rarely opened up about his personal issues and musings to others, so not to trouble them or cause concern. But he could tell just how grateful the boy was for understanding and providing him with the comfort he needed.

“You’re welcome, Yakko.” Brain quietly replied.

“Well, I think that’s enough emotionally heavy conversations for one night.” Yakko commented, trying to sound as laid-back as possible.

“Agreed. You know, I think I’m ready to return to the party and make a more admirable attempt at socializing.” Brain said with confidence.

“That’s the spirit!” Yakko praised, giving him a thumbs up.

As Brain and Yakko were putting away the billiards equipment, they heard three sets of footsteps approaching the rec room. Sure enough, it was Pinky, followed by Wakko and Dot.

“Oh, there you two are! Narf!” Pinky exclaimed.

“So this is where you two have been.” Dot addressed her brother and the mouse.

“Yep, just us guys playing some pool.” Yakko answered half-honestly as he gestured towards his smaller companion. “You could say that we were getting along swimmingly.”

Upon hearing the dad joke, Wakko and Dot retrieved their pun guns and shot their older brother on sight. Brain saw the yellow lasers fly through the room and hit Yakko, causing him to fall over on impact. The mouse looked on with concern.

“I’m fine.” Yakko assured The Brain despite the obvious pain he was in.

Brain returned his attention to his roommate and the other Warner siblings. “So what shenanigans have you three rascals been up to during our absence?” He inquired.

“We gained access to the CEO’s movie screening room!” Dot answered.

“There’s a big screen tv, a comfy leather couch, a snack bar, and everything!” Wakko added enthusiastically.

“Good work sibs!” Yakko complimented as he got back up on his feet.

“Troz! And now that we found you two, we can all go there and watch The Grinch together!” Pinky joyfully declared.

“Which one?” Yakko and The Brain asked in unison, knowing that there were multiple adaptations of the classic story and both secretly hoping that it was the 1966 animated special.

“The animated one, of course!” Pinky cheerfully replied.

“You need to be more specific, Pinky.” Brain added, praying that his friend was referring to the classic television special as opposed to the bland Illumination movie.

“Oh, it’s the one with the Boris Karloff narration and the lovely songs!” Pinky gushed as he hugged himself.

“Thank Heavens.” Brain replied, relieved that his roommate was referring to the former. “We would be delighted to accompany you three, right Yakko?”

“Oh absolutely!” Yakko replied. He carefully picked up Brain and placed him in the palm of his left hand before walking over to the others. He then knelt down and offered Pinky a ride on his right hand, to which he happily accepted.

As Yakko followed his younger siblings to the private theater, he joined his hands together, bridging the divide between the two laboratory mice. Pinky immediately leapt over to Brain, enveloping him in a warm and welcoming hug. Brain decided not to recoil from Pinky’s affection and accepted the embrace.

“Oh it’s good to see you again Brain!” Pinky exclaimed. “I missed you so much since you left, and I was getting worried that I was never going to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you too, Pinky.” Brain kindly remarked. “I just needed to recharge after socializing. You know that I would never abandon my best friend in the whole world, right?”

“Your best friend? Where?” Pinky shouted worriedly as he looked over each shoulder.

Brain rolled his eyes at his friend’s stupidity. “It’s you, Pinky. In addition to being my roommate and my assistant, you’re my best friend in the whole world.”

“Naarf.” Pinky awed, his eyes glistening with wonder. Overwhelmed with joy, the taller mouse decided to give his intelligent roommate an extra squeeze. “Well what a coincidence! It just so happens that you’re my best friend in the whole world, Brain!”

“I know, Pinky.” Brain muttered as he patted the taller mouse’s back. “I know.”

Unbeknownst to both mice, the Warners smiled warmly as they witnessed the sweet exchange.

The Warners and the lab mice entered the private theater. Dot retrieved Pinky and the two went over to the couch, where she placed a pillow over her lap, giving Pinky a place to sit. Brain managed to get the Blu-Ray player running as Wakko grabbed a stockpile of snacks. Yakko turned off the lights to provide a more theatrical experience. Yakko carefully held Brain as he plopped down on the couch, sitting between his younger siblings. Yakko moved his hand over to Dot, who gently held Brain before placing him on the pillow alongside Pinky.

As the Christmas special started, Pinky scooted over to Brain to sit closer to him. Feeling Pinky’s presence and taking into account that they were nearly enveloped in darkness, Brain lifted himself and placed a gentle kiss on Pinky’s cheek. After settling himself back down, he carefully wrapped his arm around his roommate’s waist and pulled him closer. The taller mouse was taken aback by his roommate’s actions. Pinky stared at his best friend, who lovingly gazed at him with a soft smile. Brain couldn’t verbalize the love he held for Pinky, but he hoped his kind physical gestures spoke a thousand words. Pinky beamed at Brain in response and wrapped his arm around him. The two mice continued to gaze into each other’s eyes for a few moments longer before returning their attention to the television.

Additional AN: Looking back on Animaniacs and the Pinky and the Brain spin-off as a person in her late-twenties, I’ve become fully aware of how both The Brain and Yakko deeply care about their loved ones to the point where they’re scared of the thought of being separated from them or seeing them hurt in any way.

Yakko is so attached to Wakko and Dot, pretty much raised them at the tender age of 14, so I feel like he would have this lingering fear of being alone. Whether he’s separated from them or has the idea that they wouldn’t need him anymore. The reboot establishes Yakko’s insecurities of caring about what other people think and that he may not be as funny as he presents himself to be. I found this to be a fascinating aspect of his character, and I wanted to play around with that in the fic.

The Brain, on the other hand, loves Pinky. Even if he can’t bring himself to admit it due to how emotionally constipated he is, his actions speak for him. Brain reading Pinky’s letter to Santa and being so moved that Pinky thinks so highly of him and is so supportive of him that he backs out of taking over the world even though he had the whole world under his command, The Brain literally going to hades to bring Pinky back because being the ruler of the world isn’t the same without him, Brain going out of his way to reunite Pinky with his family (even if it was for a scheme) and even using the gene splicer on them so they could understand each other, and Brain tending to Pinky’s aid when he’s beaten up by humans for being a mouse and changing his motives of world conquest to make the world and better and kinder place for Pinky and others who feel small. The reboot also has more moments where Brain chooses Pinky over a future version of himself, rescuing Pinky from being enslaved by a power-hungry toddler, and even trying to comfort him the best he could after his monster wife ran off with the other monster and the two of them perished upon falling down. There are also a lot of great hints of a slow-burn romance between the two, but I’m getting ahead of myself there.

The biggest challenge I had writing this story that followed the lore of the characters. One headcanon I played around with is that Pinky and the Brain work as part-time actors and that the majority of the skits (especially the history-based ones) were made for the show, while the events that took place in Pinky and the Brain spin-off and certain episodes from the reboot (Of Mice and Memes,Future Brain, and Roadent Trip) actually occurred in the show’s universe.

Also there are aspects of the reboot that I purposefully left out, such as Brain being super evil and Pinky being a passive enabler(*cough cough* episodes 3 and 8 *cough cough*) and Pinky having daddy issues since they conflict with their established characterizations from the PATB spin-off.

I also wanted to provide some sort of explanation as to what the Warners were up to during the past 22 years. So I figured that having them frozen in suspended animation was the more logical choice. I also came up with the idea that they had to choose between staying frozen or being locked in the water tower again for added drama.

Overall, I had a lot of fun writing this story. It’s been a long time since I last publicly published fanfiction since there was a lot going on in my personal life and I was too busy and I didn’t feel entirely motivated to write. But upon rewatching old episodes of Pinky and the Brain, Animaniacs, and watching season one of the Animaniacs reboot has reawakened my creative muse and motivated me to write, and I do plan on writing more stories centered around these characters.

Please leave a review if you can! Thanks for reading!

#animaniacs #pinky and the brain #fanfiction #brain #yakko warner #pinky #wakko warner #dot warner #brinky #a!spoilers #christmas

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themurphyzone · 3 years ago

Text

BatB AU: A Provincial Life

Summary: It’s an ordinary day in ACME Village for Pinky. Until it isn’t.

AN: This oneshot adapts the opening number ‘Belle’ and village scenes, up until Pinky sets off for the castle in search of his father, which leads into the entry Imprisoned.

AO3 Link

Pinky scooped a ladleful of oatmeal into a small, earthen bowl, humming dreamily as he added a dash of cinnamon and several apple slices into the mixture.

Today was a very special day for Papa, and Pinky wanted him to eat a healthy and nutritious meal before he went off to the fair with his invention. It would be a few days of travel, and Papa would need his strength for traveling there and back.

“Papa, I’m going out!” Pinky called as he carefully pushed a large woven basket of acorns outside. “Your breakfast is on the table, so make sure you eat it all!”

There was a sputter and cough of machinery and a trail of smoke from the small room that served as a makeshift workshop next to the kitchen, followed by a loud bang.

“Just getting ‘er warmed up for the final test!” Papa shouted. “C’mon, Madeleine! You may’ve fallen apart for the 264th time, but you can do it!”

Oh, Pinky had no doubt people were gonna love the woodcutting, ax-wielding, only occasionally threatening to take fingers off machine known as Madeleine. She was definitely gonna win that gorgeous blue ribbon at the fair! And even if she didn’t, they’d love her all the same anyway.

He opened the door and stepped into the beautiful autumn morning, taking in the cool, fresh air as he carefully maneuvered the basket of acorns into a red wagon. The leaves were varying hues of crimson and gold, dancing along a gentle breeze that ruffled Pinky’s fur. The sun was peeking over the horizon, slowly bathing the world in light as it rose.

Two songbirds flew merrily above him, their sweet morning song filling the air with beautiful music. Pinky reached up, and one of the songbirds briefly landed on his outstretched hand before flying after his partner, leaving a red feather behind.

“Thanks for the feather!” Pinky shouted to the sky as he tucked the feather behind his ear, where it fit perfectly.

He picked up the wagon handle and pulled it along, the wheels squeaking along behind him.

In the meadow beside their quaint little cottage, Pharfignewton chewed placidly on dew-covered grass. She neighed a greeting to Pinky, and Pinky cheerfully waved back. As much as he loved taking the beloved family horse into town for company, she needed her strength to lug Papa, Madeleine, and all their supplies later. So he had to let her rest.

Reeds and wildflowers of all sorts grew along the banks of the pond that separated the little cottage from the rest of ACME Village. A pair of ducks paddled along in the water, trailed by four adorable, fluffy yellow ducklings. Several tiny turtles sunbathed on an old log, while a large green frog sat on its lily pad and caught insects unlucky enough to stray in the path of a long, sticky tongue.

Pinky took his time crossing the cobblestone bridge over the pond, watching the wild animals go about their day without hustling, bustling, or rushing from place to place. Their lives were very different from their neighbors, despite living so close together.

Little animals, little pond, and little humans in their little town.

Or was everything just bigger than him? He was a mouse after all. It wasn’t hard to be bigger than a mouse, unless one happened to be an insect.

As Pinky crossed onto the other side, he spotted a smooth, pretty gray stone poking out of the reeds. He plucked it out of the damp soil, cleaning the dirt off with the inside of his apron.

It would be a perfect stone for his collection. And he didn’t have any that were this smooth. Most of the rocks he picked up were half-crushed or broken from city streets or well-worn paths. He tucked it into a pocket that he’d sewn on himself, because for some odd reason dresses never came with pockets.

Then he faced the little town, with all its timber and stone buildings lining a narrow cobbled street that quickly filled with half-asleep, half-awake people trying to get an early start on their sales and trades.

To think he and Papa had lived here for three years. While not the most exciting town in the world, Pinky was just happy they didn’t have to move again. He’d spent too much of his life being bustled from place to place since Mama died. The cottage was the loveliest place they’d ever owned.

And while the townsfolk had the same ol’ familiar routine every day, Pinky tried to vary his activities. From baking to horseback riding to volunteering for odd jobs around town, or just taking a day off to nap under a tree and roll down the hilly meadows while grass stains formed on his back.

Just a normal provincial life, yet Pinky often wondered what laid in the big blue yonder. Did the stars and sky look different elsewhere? Do the clouds form big, fluffy, and silly shapes in South America?

“Bonjour!” a man called out as he threw open his shutters.

“Good morning, Emile!” Pinky replied as he skipped past his window.

“Bonjour! Bonjour! Bonjour!” The echoing chant swept across rooftops and streets alike as a new day dawned upon ACME Village.

Everyone from chimney sweepers to merchants to coachmen responded with vigor and cheer, all of them satisfied with their occupations in life.

Pinky greeted everyone he passed, though not all returned the gesture. Everyone was staring at the feather tucked behind his ear, the bulge of the stone in his pocket, or the red wagon with the basket he pulled along. He didn’t think he was that strange-looking.

Unless he had a bit of cabbage stuck in his teeth again. But he flossed really well last night, so he didn’t think that was the case.

“Marie, hurry up with the baguettes!” the baker shouted as he carried several loaves of bread outside.

Pinky inhaled deeply. There was nothing quite like the scent and sound of fresh bread.

“Narrrrrrf! Smells just like heaven, Mr. Baker!” Pinky exclaimed.

The baker set his tray of bread on a windowsill, tapping his foot as he impatiently waited for Marie. “Morning, Pinky. You off somewhere this morning?” he asked, though he didn’t turn around.

“Yup! I’m delivering this basket of acorns to Slappy!” Pinky said, pointing to his basket of acorns. “She really likes the acorns near our cottage but doesn’t wanna make the trip herself. She says it’s too far for her aching joints and she can’t take Skippy along because she’s still trying to convince him that we’re not gonna be shot like Bumbie’s mom if we venture into the meadow, and-”

“Yes, yes, that’s all very nice,” the baker said, half-leaning into the open window. “Marie, I said hurry up with the baguettes! The morning rush is coming soon!”

“Well, if you’d bought the ingredients from Francois instead of Vincent like I suggested then maybe we wouldn’t be running behind, Pierre! But no, you always act like you know best!” Marie snapped.

Not wanting to get embroiled in yet another argument between the baker and his wife, Pinky followed the cobblestone path further into town, where the usual market sprung up, full of local farmers, tradesmen, and merchants.

Villagers bartered and argued and traded like always, and as Pinky stopped to admire a small yellow daisy poking out from the cracks of the street, he could feel eyes follow him closely in that looking-at-you-but-pretending-we’re-not sort of way.

“There goes the funny mouse again.”

“Gets distracted by the littlest things, I swear.”

“Does he even have a useful skill?”

“Besides being the village idiot? Doubtful.”

They’d made those comments ever since he and Papa had moved in. Everywhere they went, people asked Pinky for his trade, and Pinky always told them he took care of Papa and worked various odd jobs around the area for money.

But that wasn’t considered a useful role in society.

He didn’t mind helping Papa though.

Oh well though. He couldn’t delay getting these acorns to Slappy, so he hauled his wagon alongside a horse-drawn carriage that steadily cut through the crowded streets, clearing Pinky’s path.

“Bonjour!” the coachman called to a young woman walking down the street. His eyes were trained on the girl rather than the road, and his horse plowed straight into a farmer’s cart, knocking his produce into the road.

“MY CABBAGES!” the farmer screamed, tearing out his hair as several pigs devoured his vegetables.

The coachman let out a nervous laugh and flicked the reins, spurring his horse forward and blithely ignoring the despairing farmer’s demands for compensation.

“I need six eggs!” a woman cried as she tried to hold several fussing babies at once.

“That’s too expensive!” a man complained to someone selling pottery. “Twenty coins for a pile of cheap clay? Bah!”

Pinky and the carriage parted ways as the cobblestone street changed to an unpaved dirt path. The gossip and chatter of ACME Village faded to background noise.

Slappy had made her home in a hollow tree on the outskirts of town, close enough to get supplies but far enough to deter most from knocking on her door.

Pinky passed by many warning and danger signs that kept most people from bothering the old squirrel. There was a new post up today, right next to Slappy’s front door.

LAST WARNING

NO SELLING, NO PREACHING, NO TAX COLLECTING

KNOCK AT YOUR OWN RISK

Well, what was life without a little risk? Pinky knocked on the door anyway.

He was trying to decide if one of the clouds overhead was shaped more like a monkey or a strawberry when a small brown squirrel in a blue nightgown and cap opened the door. Despite the early morning, he was wide awake and hopping in place, his excitement only growing as he spotted the basket of acorns behind Pinky.

“Morning, Skippy! Got the basket of acorns your aunt wanted!” Pinky exclaimed.

Skippy grinned as he took the basket from the wagon. “Thanks, Pinky! Aunt Slappy will love these!”

He popped a few acorns into his mouth and loudly crunched the shells.

“Skippy, what’d I say about answering the door at this godforsaken hour in the morning?” a cranky voice yelled from upstairs.

“It’s just Pinky with the acorns, Aunt Slappy! No door to door salespeople, preachers, or tax collectors in sight!” Skippy shouted. Then he turned back to Pinky and pointed to his ear. “I like your feather, by the way.”

“Thanks! I like your nightcap!” Pinky said, returning the compliment with his own.

A few moments later, Slappy joined Pinky and Skippy downstairs. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, her long gray tail dragging behind her.

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” Slappy asked. She tossed several acorns into her mouth and nodded her approval. “Crunchy with a pinch of salt. This is gonna be a good topping for my world-renowned creamed spinach later.”

“SPEEWWWWWWWWW!” Skippy cried, sticking his tongue out in disgust.

Pinky just smiled politely. Slappy took a lot of pride in her creamed spinach recipe, and he didn’t want to hurt her feelings by saying it tasted like soggy socks.

“Hey, when I was your age, I ate lots of creamed spinach for dinner. And now I have enough muscles to wield a hundred ton mallet,” Slappy retorted.

“Wow! Was that when dinosaurs roamed the earth?” Skippy asked.

Slappy gave him a light smack on the back of his head. “Little brat. Go grab a few coins from the bureau in my room. Gotta pay the mouse for lugging this stuff across town.”

Skippy blew a raspberry at her and ran up the stairs.

“Your tongue is never gonna go back in your mouth if you keep doing that!” Slappy yelled.

Funny how the Squirrels were his best neighbors, even though they lived on the opposite side of town. They’d helped out so much when Pinky and Papa first moved into the countryside cottage, from showing them all the best places to buy from and all the best trees to climb. Everyone else usually stared at them strangely for not knowing how to find a shop and moved on with their day.

Still, Pinky didn’t want to impose on them or anything. Collecting the acorns was no trouble at all. And he knew money could be a little tight in the village at times.

“You don’t have to pay me,” Pinky said. “Poit. I don’t mind the morning exercise.”

“You’re walkin’ outta here with those coins whether you like it or not,” Slappy said in a tone that invited no room for argument. “Don’t be one of ‘em honor before reason types. That sorta mindset is nothing but trouble.”

Slappy’s long tail flicked in irritation, accidentally knocking a framed painting askew on the wall next to her. She sighed and fixed the crooked painting so that it hung straight. “Can never keep this darn thing straight,’ she muttered.

Pinky had been inside the hollow tree many times, but he’d never seen this painting before. It contained a colorful cast of characters, from a carrot-munching gray rabbit to a crazy black duck to a short gunslinger with an enormous bright red mustache.

In the painting, a youthful Slappy with a manic grin on her face and giant firecracker in her hand was chasing a bald hunter. Her smile was brighter, and her eyes didn’t seem so world-weary there.

“Like it? Old pals sent it to me two weeks ago,” Slappy asked, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. “The Looney Tunes Troupe were a rascally bunch, that’s for sure. All the money for a detailed painting, and they can’t afford a better frame. Our shows were legendary back in the day, you know.”

“Never heard of them,” Pinky admitted.

“Course ya haven’t,” Slappy sighed. “Your generation doesn’t know good comedy when it hits them in the bum with a mallet. Troupe’s faded into obscurity now, but they’ve never stopped traveling and being annoying yet lovable nuisances to everyone from Albuquerque to Kalamazoo to Timbuktu.”

Pinky tilted his head. “But you don’t travel anymore.”

If the Squirrels needed something they couldn’t get in ACME Village, they usually asked Pinky to run the errand for them.

“Yeah, well, that’s life,” Slappy said. “Sometimes you’re a nomad with total freedom and other times you gotta flee with your nephew to a different country.”

Before Pinky could ask more questions, Skippy barreled downstairs with as many coins as he could carry. “I didn’t know how much to grab so I just took a handful,” Skippy said, dumping the currency onto a small side table.

Slappy picked up six coins from the pile and dropped them into a small drawstring bag, then tightened the strings and tossed the bag into Pinky’s wagon. “You can have these. I’ve got plenty more lying around,” she said.

“If you're sure then,” Pinky said, picking up his wagon handle and turning it around. “Love to stay, but Papa’s leaving for the fair soon and I gotta see him off!”

“Tell him we said hi!” Skippy shouted, and Pinky saluted back.

Slappy yawned, stretching her arms above her head. “And I’m hitting the hay again. It’s too damn early, and I’m too tired to censor my swearing in front of kids.”

o-o-o-o-o

After his visit to Slappy’s tree, Pinky decided to kill some time at ACME Village’s fountain, where he could enjoy the fine spray of water and run in circles along the stone rim. It was always fun seeing how fast he could go without tipping into the water.

“Sorry!” he shouted as he accidentally trod over freshly washed sheets that a woman had been folding next to the fountain. She made an indignant noise and carried her basket of laundry away, nose high in the air.

And the whispers started up again.

“That mouse may be a beauty, but he is way too peculiar for his own good.”

“You have to wonder if he’s feeling well.”

“Always a dreamy, far-off look on his face.”

On his tenth lap around the fountain, a flock of sheep strolled by, guided by a young shepherd from behind. Two fluffy ewes jumped onto the fountain rim next to Pinky and drank the water. Pinky smiled and stroked their soft wool, and the ewes bleated in contentment.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Pinky whispered into their ears. “Don’t go blabbing this to anyone now...but I believe Papa’s a shoo-in for that blue ribbon!”

One of the ewes turned and nibbled on his ear, and Pinky laughed as her blocky teeth tugged and tickled his fur. He gently pried her jaw open and his ear popped out of her mouth, dripping wet with sheep saliva.

As Pinky prepared to slide off the fountain rim and onto the small bag of money he’d gotten from Slappy, a regal fanfare went off in the distance, thundering hoofbeats growing ever closer.

A messenger in a white powdered wig blew his coronet and cleared his throat.

“HEAR YE! HEAR YE! MAKE WAY FOR HIS ROYAL MAJESTY, PRINCE SNOWBALL AND HIS HUNTING PARTY!”

The messenger’s declaration sent every man, woman, and child running towards the plaza, gathering in front of the entrance of the local tavern, the centerpoint of all social activities in ACME Village.

The hunting party rode in on their enormous horses, spearheaded by the ruler of the province, Prince Snowball. Though only a small hamster, he was famed by all for his keen mind and ability to get results on whatever he set out to accomplish.

Though dressed in only a simple red shirt and breeches for hunting, the only signs of his higher status being the golden crown upon his head and the expensive black horse he rode, his presence commanded respect and awe.

Behind him, a hunting party consisting of the best huntsmen and archers in the land dragged an enormous buck, two wild boars, and several pheasants into view.

“People of ACME Village, tonight we shall dine on these fine specimens of the animal kingdom!” Snowball announced as everyone bowed in fear of a noble’s anger. “Everyone’s presence is required, for I have a further declaration that shall lift this derelict province out of the ashes and into a glorious future!”

His pink eyes were sharp, but beneath that layer of intelligence, there was an undertone of something that didn’t feel right. Pinky couldn’t explain it, but he always just had this odd, icky feeling that crawled up his spine whenever he saw Snowball.

The crowd straightened up, cheering and clapping and praising Prince Snowball’s name for bringing them such good fortune with the promise of more to come.

Pinky’s ear twitched. There was a soft, desperate sound mixed in with the roars of the captivated audience.

And to the left side of the crowd, there was a tiny lamb whose back leg was tangled in a large fishing net. The mother ewe was both nuzzling the lamb in comfort and trying to pull the net off with her teeth, but to no avail.

The shepherd never noticed his sheep were in trouble, too caught up in hailing Prince Snowball to notice one of his charges was stuck.

Pinky hopped off the fountain and slowly walked over to the thrashing lamb and his mother, putting his hands up to show them he wasn’t a threat. The lamb bleated in panic, and the mother eyed Pinky warily.

“May I help? I’m good at untangling stuff,” Pinky asked. He’d gotten a lot of practice when Papa occasionally tangled himself up in threads and wires.

The ewe regarded him for a long moment, then nuzzled the back of her lamb’s head, letting him bury his head into her wool. The lamb’s trembling stopped, his back leg still.

It was a sweet gesture, one that seemed so familiar to him, even though his own mother had long passed. He remembered that feeling of warmth and safety from so long ago, the last time he felt like he was truly home.

Wiping a stray tear from his eye, Pinky untangled the mesh from the lamb’s leg, starting from the top and slowly moving down to the hoof.

“There you go, baby,” Pinky said once the leg was completely free. The lamb pulled his hoof out of the netting, gave it a good shake, then joyfully pranced and bleated around his mother and Pinky.

The mother gave Pinky a tiny nod, bleated to her little one, and together they rejoined their flock. The shepherd was still ignoring his flock in favor of Prince Snowball. Pinky couldn’t see him anymore from the ground.

Pinky picked up his wagon handle, ready to go home and help Papa hitch everything up to Pharfignewton.

Then he felt a pair of fingers pluck the feather he’d lovingly tucked behind his ear. Pinky turned to get his feather back, and jumped when Snowball was just inches from his face.

“Hello, Pinky,” Snowball said. He smiled, but it was more out of smugness than a real smile.

Pinky’s ears lowered, but then he remembered his manners. “Bonjour, Prince Snowball. May I have my feather please? A really nice bird gave that to me.”

Snowball frowned, holding the feather out of Pinky’s reach. The feather crinkled in his tight grip. “How could you possibly need this? It’s hardly good quality for even the cheapest quills.”

“Poit. It doesn’t need to be a quill to make me happy,” Pinky replied.

Snowball rolled his eyes, tossing the feather behind him. Pinky tried to grab it, but it was caught on a gust of wind and drifted to the ground. It landed in a mud puddle, soaking the barbs of the feather and staining it brown.

“Pinky, get your head out of the clouds and pay attention to important matters,” Snowball’s lip curled as he blocked Pinky from retrieving his feather. “Such as showing royals courtesy when they address a peasant like you.”

“Excuse me, Snowball,” Pinky said politely, going around the hamster to pick up his feather. The damage didn’t look too bad. Still, he tried to be careful when he cleaned it with his apron.

Snowball crossed his arms, and the town’s whispers started up again.

How dare he not show proper respect to Snowball, does he fancy himself higher than a prince, why would Snowball pay him any individual attention and not someone more deserving.

“That’s Prince Snowball to you.” Snowball’s fur bristled for a moment, but he took a deep breath and put his arms around Pinky’s shoulders instead. “The whole town's talking about you and your lack of...purpose. And we can’t have that, you realize. After all, a machine requires all of its cogs and gears to run smoothly, otherwise it won’t work.”

“Bet his crackpot father would know something about that!” one of Snowball’s men chortled.

Everyone laughed, even Snowball, who rarely did so. An unfamiliar feeling boiled in Pinky’s stomach.

“Don’t talk about my father that way!” Pinky snapped. His inventions were amazing and he was going to do well at the fair! They didn’t know how hard Papa worked on his inventions!

Snowball glared at his men. “Yes, don’t talk about his father that way, you fools!” he hissed like Pinky hadn’t heard him laughing just seconds ago.

“He’s not a crackpot! His invention’s gonna win the blue ribbon cause it was made with smarts and love, you’ll see!” Pinky declared, just as an explosion went off in the distance.

And he knew exactly where that explosion had come from.

“I have to go. Goodbye!” Pinky dragged his wagon behind him, setting off for the cottage he and Papa called home.

“It’s a pity and a sin,

He doesn’t quite fit in.

He really is a funny mouse,

A beauty but a funny mouse,

He really is a funny mouse,

THAT PIN-”

The sharp, high-pitched crack of a rifle interrupted the village’s song, and everyone ran for cover.

“WILL YA SHUT UP? SOME OF US ARE TRYIN’ TA SLEEP!” Slappy shouted from her tree, her screech blowing tiles and lumber from the roofs of buildings.

Just a provincial life in this little town. Pinky ran across the cobblestone bridge, wondering if he truly had the right to ask for something more than that.

o-o-o-o-o

He hurried over to the cellar, where smoke trailed from the gaps of the heavy wooden doors. Pinky opened the entrance, and a smoky cloud blew right in his face. He coughed and waved it away, hiding his nose in his dress as he hurried over to Papa, who’d been thrown onto his back. A pile of broken wooden planks covered him.

In the corner, Madeleine sputtered, her gears and dials spinning wildly before she finally quieted down, one loose spring sending a gear crashing into a wall.

“Dagnabbit, Madeleine!” Papa cursed, stumbling as he extracted himself from the pile of wooden planks. Pinky grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet, checking him over for any injuries. Luckily, there were no bruises or splinters to be found. “Don’t you stall out on me now!”

Pinky smiled. Papa’s string of random gibberish and mutterings of smart inventor words he couldn’t understand was something he’d been familiar with from a young age. No matter where they lived, it was just one of those things that came with home.

Papa huffed, untying his apron with all his tools and tossing it to the ground. “She’ll never work in time for the fair! What was I thinking?” he lamented. “It’s not too late. Maybe I can cobble something else together quickly! Yes, I’ll just take the doowhatzit out of Madeleine, combine it with the kaleidomajiggy from the old washer, and-”

“You always say that, Papa,” Pinky said, hugging his father around the shoulders. Papa rested his hands over Pinky’s with a sigh. “Don’t worry. I believe Madeleine will work, and she’ll win you that blue ribbon and help you become an inventor for the history books! Narf! Just like Benjamin Franklin, ‘cept without all the kite-flying.”

“You really think so?” Papa asked, his frown turning to a hopeful smile.

“Course I do,” Pinky grinned.

A determined look crossed Papa’s face, and he tied his apron around his waist, nearly tripping over it in the process.

“What are we waiting for then? Let’s fix ‘er up!” Papa said, laying down on a flat, low cart and pushing himself under the broken stove that made up Madeleine’s main body. “So how was your morning in town?”

“A little birdie gave me a feather. I found a pretty stone by the pond. And I delivered the acorns to the Squirrels. Did you know Slappy used to be a part of a traveling troupe? I didn’t.” Pinky recanted his morning to Papa as tools clinked and scratched against metal. “Oh, and I guess you’ll be missing Prince Snowball’s feast tonight. They’ll have venison and wild boar there.”

“A feast? That sounds nice. Much better than inn food,” Papa mused. As usual, only part of what Pinky said ever registered with him. “Are you going?”

“I don’t know yet,” Pinky admitted. “Don’t get me wrong, I love a good party...but Prince Snowball is-um, what’s a good word for him?”

“Rich? Smart? Confident?” Papa suggested. “He’s been talkin’ to you a lot lately.”

So everyone’s noticed, even Papa who spent much of his time in the cellar that doubled as a workshop.

“He has,” Pinky agreed. “And he says he can give me a purpose. But...I don’t know. I don’t think he’s right for me. Maybe I’m just as odd as they say I am.”

It was the same everywhere they settled. No matter what Pinky tried to do, the whispers always followed him. He noticed strange things, he wore strange clothes, he and Papa were always strangers in towns where everyone knew each other from birth.

Papa slid out from under Madeleine, wearing a silly helmet on his head that gave him huge, bug-like eyes.

“My son is odd?” Papa asked in disbelief, and Pinky laughed. The helmet always made Papa look silly. “Don’t know where these folks get their ideas from…anyway, I think Madeleine’s all ready to go. Care to give her a whirl?”

“Zort! Am I!” Pinky clapped his hands together. Papa pointed to a lever, which Pinky pulled with all his might.

Madeleine’s bells and whistles sounded, water steadily pumping through her system while steam filled her stove. Pulleys and gears turned along her sides, reaching the front. Her dials quivered until they reached the red zone, and the ax at her front swung down, scoring a deep cut in a block of firewood. The ax swung faster and faster, until one final split the firewood in half and sent one chunk flying.

Pinky and Papa ducked, and the chunk flew over their heads and landed perfectly on a pile of firewood against the wall.

“She works!” Pinky shouted in joy, kissing one of Madeleine’s wooden wheels. “You did it, Papa!”

“I did?” Papa murmured. “I did! 265th time’s the charm, Pinky! Look out fair, I’m on my way!”

o-o-o-o-o

Within the hour, Madeleine was wheeled out from the workshop, covered and tied up with a tarp, and hitched to Pharfignewton.

“Bye, Fig,” Pinky said, hugging his beloved horse’s muzzle. “Keep Papa on track to the fair, okay? You know how he likes taking shortcuts.”

Pharfignewton whinnied gently, planting a sloppy kiss on top of Pinky’s head.

Then Pinky embraced Papa, who returned the hug with the same enthusiasm. And he was reminded of how the mouse and horse he considered his home would be leaving for some time. He wished he could go with them, but someone had to keep house and he was the best one for the job. It wouldn’t be for long, but he’d miss them all the same.

A stray tear dropped. Just another reason he was considered odd. He cried so easily.

“Chin up, Pinky,” Papa murmured, rubbing a soothing circle into Pinky’s back. “I’ll win that blue ribbon along with the prize money, and we’ll begin our lives anew within the week.”

Through his tears, Pinky gave him a wobbly smile. Then he helped Papa onto Pharfignewton’s back.

“Take care!” Pinky called as Papa flicked the reins, and Pharfignewton trotted off at a steady pace, dragging Madeleine behind her. He watched them from atop the highest hill in the meadow, as they went further down the well-worn trail that merchants used for their travels.

Then they were nothing but specks in the distance, swallowed by the thick, twisted branches of the forest. It was an unusual forest, one where the trees lost their leaves in early autumn, making the trees look scarier than they actually were for half the year.

With nothing else to do outside, Pinky went back into the empty cottage. He’d had three years to become familiar with this house, full of odds and ends from Papa’s inventions alongside their meager belongings.

Mama’s cloak hung from a place of honor on a coat rack by the door, one of the few belongings Pinky could take along no matter where they lived.

Hours passed, and Pinky already missed the banging and exploding and sputtering of Papa’s inventions. It was just too quiet without them.

He cleaned the red feather and pretty stone, then added them to his collection. Feathers and rocks didn’t take up a lot of room, and like Mama’s cloak, they could easily be taken to new places as well. He was just very careful not to lose them.

The wagon was tucked away by the door, and the small bag of money was tucked inside a flower pot. It was how Papa always stored money, and Pinky had picked up the habit.

There wasn’t much to do. He’d cleaned the cottage several days ago, cellar notwithstanding. That was Papa’s territory, and he always had trouble finding tools when Pinky put them away.

Suppertime approached.

He could either cook dinner or go to the feast.

Didn’t matter what he chose. He would be lonely either way.

A sharp rap on the door startled him out of his thoughts. How strange. People only knocked at this time when there was an emergency.

“Sorry for taking so long. I wasn’t expecting-” Pinky opened the door, and he immediately stood face-to-face with Prince Snowball. They were so close that their noses nearly touched. “-to see you here, Snowball. Um, this is a surprise. Poit.”

Snowball’s pink eyes narrowed in annoyance, and Pinky remembered that Snowball preferred to be addressed with his full title. “Yes, it’s not often that someone of my standing chooses to grace a peasant’s home with their presence.”

Behind Snowball, there was an entourage of townsfolk. Many wore their Sunday best, which was still quite cheap compared to the royal finery that Snowball bore. A fine red coat, a decorative golden cape slung over one shoulder, and white dress pants. A shiny crown embedded with rubies and emeralds sat atop his head.

“I thought you were all at the tavern for the feast,” Pinky admitted.

Snowball laughed, but it was a joyless laugh. He stepped across the threshold without being invited in.

“Why, Pinky. Your hovel is positively primeval,” Snowball said, wrinkling his nose in disdain. He tugged Mama’s cloak off its hook, stared at it for a moment, then carelessly tossed it behind him. “If this is how you live, then it’s a truly auspicious time for me to come and offer you an opportunity out of this squalor.”

Before Pinky could ask what auspicious was, though he figured it had something to do with Austria, Snowball harshly dug his fingers into Pinky’s shoulders. Pinky tried to pry them off, but the fingers just burrowed further into the fabric of his dress.

“Not to worry, dear Pinky,” Snowball said. “Today is the day all your dreams come true.”

“You mean my dream to find a home and a porpoise? Because I don’t know if we have enough money to live by the ocean. Beachside properties get very pricey, you know,” Pinky asked.

Snowball waved off that concern. “You forget that finances are of no consequence for me. But I digress. For now, allow me to plant the image of a wonderful future in your vacant mind.”

“Okay, but I don’t know how you’re gonna water it,” Pinky said.

“Picture this,” Snowball demanded, leading Pinky around the cottage. “A magnificent castle. Two golden thrones, mine higher than the queen’s of course. A few summer homes to expand my sphere of influence. A court of other royals, lesser nobles, while the servants do all the menial work around the fires and kitchen. We’ll have...oh, six or seven.”

“Servants?” Pinky grinned nervously as Snowball leaned in with a chuckle.

“Castles, Pinky. How else would I showcase my power?” Snowball corrected. “And the townsfolk shall become our servants. It will save me the trouble of setting up a hiring process anyway. Besides, you’d appreciate having familiar faces around. Less of an adjustment period.”

Pinky freed himself from Snowball’s grip. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t,” Snowball shrugged. “But in simplest terms, I require a queen. One who is good at smiling, waving, and entertainment.”

Wouldn’t that person become a princess rather than a queen though?

Snowball must’ve seen the question coming. He paused in front of the mirror to adjust his crown.

“There is but one title higher than a prince, Pinky,” Snowball said once he was finished. “In order to qualify for the kingship, it’s required of me to marry first. And do you know who that queen will be?”

“Elizabeth? Victoria?” Pinky wilted under Snowball’s intense stare. “Um...Cleopatra, final answer?”

Snowball shook his head. “It will be you, Pinky.”

A queen? He’d always just been the inventor’s son. An outcast no matter where he lived. How could he possibly be a queen?

“That’s a very generous offer, Snowball,” Pinky said, once he finally found his words again.

“Isn’t it, though?” Snowball said smugly. “You and your father will live in an extravagant new home as you perform your queenly duties, and I will be forever hailed as King Snowball. Both of us shall benefit.”

Maybe he and Papa could live in better conditions. Maybe they didn’t have to move around anymore. Maybe they could afford shoes for Pharfignewton. But at the same time…it wouldn’t be right.

It wouldn’t be home.

Smiling, waving, entertaining. Was that all he was good for? Was that all Snowball thought he could do?

“I thought...marriage was for love,” Pinky said softly. “That’s what Papa always said.”

Snowball rolled his eyes. “It’s a political marriage. It doesn’t have to be built on love.”

Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it.

It was one of the earliest morals Pinky had learned.

Wish for a home, only for it to be a castle. Wish for a purpose, and it’s to be married without love as a foundation.

“Snowball...I’m speechless,” Pinky said, backing out the front door. He nearly tripped over the welcome mat, but regained his footing. “I...I really don’t know what to say.”

Not even a narf would help him out of this situation.

“Say that you’ll marry me, Pinky,” Snowball replied, and he stalked toward Pinky like a cunning predator, backing him against the edge of the porch. “And after you say yes, I will announce our engagement to the rest of ACME Village at the feast. Attendance is mandatory for a reason.”

“I’m really, really sorry, Snowball,” Pinky said. He’d backed up too far, and the heels of his feet dangled precariously over the edge. Instincts kicking in, Pinky grabbed Snowball’s shoulder to pull himself to safety, though he underestimated his strength. Snowball yelped as he was pulled over the edge, falling into the mud puddle by the staircase.

Oops.

“Sorry, Snowball! But I just don’t deserve you,” Pinky admitted.

The mud-covered crown slipped around Snowball’s head, covering his eyes until he took it off with an annoyed grunt.

Pinky slipped back into the house, grabbed a small towel, and handed it to one of Snowball’s men.

Claude, if he remembered right.

“He can have that one,” Pinky told Claude, who gingerly took the towel like it was a fragile item.

Snowball crawled out of the mud, his royal clothing covered in gunk and sticks. He stomped out of the mud, hands clenching against his sides.

Snowball’s brow lowered, his pink eyes hidden in humiliation and a quiet, seething fury.

Slowly, Pinky retreated into the cottage and hid behind the door. There was something about that look that terrified him. And it wasn’t the fun kind of fear, either.

“You will consider my offer, Pinky. Make no mistake about that,” Snowball spat, his scrutinizing gaze directly on Pinky, despite the door between them. “Claude, quit being daft and hand me that towel already!”

Pinky waited in the cottage until he could no longer hear their voices or footsteps. They must’ve gone back to the tavern for the feast.

He didn’t feel hungry though. Snowball’s proposal left a sour taste in his mouth, like he’d just sucked on a lemon.

“He asked me to marry him,” Pinky said to his mother’s cloak, which was still crumpled on the floor. He gently picked it up, brushed off the wrinkles, and put it on. The fabric was warm against his back, like being wrapped in a ginormous embrace. “But he doesn’t love me. Narf! You can’t have a marriage without love!”

He thought of all the married couples he knew in ACME Village. The baker couple, who were constantly at each other’s throats. Gerard the butcher was always making googly eyes at any woman who bought cuts of meat, much to his wife’s frustration. There was the stressed lady who had to drag her six kids around town while her husband played cards and darts at the tavern.

And Pinky thought of his parents. His mother had fallen in love with his father’s inventive streak when she was the daughter of a town official and Papa was just the crazy mouse whose inventions blew up a lot.

He tied the cloak tighter around himself. Unable to take the silence of the cottage and the stifling influence of the village much longer, he allowed his feet to carry him out of the cottage and to wherever they wanted to go.

He sprinted into the unknown. He wouldn’t be afraid of whatever he found there. The autumn wind blew golden, red, and brown leaves in whichever direction it wished as Pinky climbed the highest hill in the gorgeous flower-filled meadow.

The peak of the hill was his favorite spot, and he was surprised that nobody else came out here to enjoy the view with him. Trees lost their colorful leaves so they could sleep for the winter, the river splashed and babbled along its banks, and proud mountains with mysterious cloud-covered peaks rose high above the landscape.

What laid beyond villages and towns, he didn’t know.

There was something in that great wide somewhere for him. Just a feeling, an inkling, a hunch.

But could he truly go exploring it when his home was here?

Maybe he could convince Papa. Somehow. When Papa came back with the prize money, they could fit Pharfignewton with her shoes and they could all explore together!

Staring into the autumn landscape, Pinky sank to his knees, careful not to squish the daisies and dandelions around him.

Maybe that was home, but…

He didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life. Would he ever figure that out?

He loved Papa, but he couldn’t really talk to him. And Slappy had her hands full with such an energetic nephew. Pinky didn’t want to impose. Everyone in the village gossiped about him, like he couldn’t understand.

But he did.

And it hurt.

“Would be nice to talk to someone. Anyone, really,” he whispered, and he blew on a cluster of dandelion puffs. His wish scattered along the wind.

Pinky picked up more dandelion puffs. If he blew more around, maybe his wish would come true. And dandelion flowers were very pretty.

Maybe they were considered weeds, but how could anyone call such a sunshine-y yellow flower a pest? He didn’t get it.

Then a distant, familiar neigh caught him off-guard.

Pinky thumped his hand against his ear. Maybe he was missing Pharfignewton so much that he heard her voice?

But he’d recognize her magnificent white coat and spirited blue eyes anywhere.

“Easy, Pharfignewton! It’s okay!” Pinky cried. He scrambled up Pharfignewton’s leg, avoided her flailing hoof, and held onto her muzzle as she bucked and reared in sheer panic. “Shhh, it’s okay. You’re okay…”

Pharfignewton quieted down, her frantic neighs melting into soft, worried nickers as Pinky stroked her nose. She stopped kicking, though she was wide-eyed with fear.

Madeleine wasn’t hitched to Pharfignewton. Nor was she wasn’t the only one missing…

And Pinky suddenly understood his horse’s panic.

“Pharfignewton, where’s Papa?” Pinky asked. “Is he okay? How did you get separated? Did he try another shortcut when I told him not to do it?”

Pharfignewton’s hooves shuffled, and Pinky forced himself to take a deep breath. He was scaring her with all these questions, so he nuzzled her between the eyes in apology. Still, his heart raced with panic.

From the top of the hill, he saw thick, gray clouds rolling in from the mountains. The temperature was dropping fast.

An early winter would be upon them. They had to find Papa quickly.

“Please, Pharfignewton. We’ve gotta find him,” Pinky pleaded.

She whinnied in agreement, and galloped into the strange forest with all its dangerous, twisted branches before Pinky had a chance to settle in his usual spot at the base of her neck.

Don’t worry, Papa. I’m on my way.

End AN: Well, this is beast is complete (no pun intended).

Yeah, poor Pinky’s usual charm doesn’t really work here. Poor mouse.

Slappy is fun to write, not gonna lie. Love her cartoony antics. She’s also led quite the interesting life in this AU.

The reason Snowball didn’t show up sooner was because I wasn’t sure how to tweak the proposal scene to fit. Cause for one thing, Snowball is way smarter than Gaston, but just as arrogant to boot. So I changed Snowball’s motivation into marrying Pinky because it will help him gain a higher title than a prince. He doesn’t actually love Pinky in this AU, but he’s very annoyed at him for that stunt with the mud puddle (though it’s accidental on Pinky’s part rather than intentional like Belle’s).

The reason Snowball doesn’t go seeking a princess’s hand to gain the kingship is cause he tried that already. It was Billie of a nearby kingdom. It didn’t go well.

Also yes the village is named ACME Village because I’m lazy and can’t come up with anything better.

#pinky and the brain #patb snowball #beauty and the beast au #patb fanfiction

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with-love-anu · 4 years ago

Text

Over a cup of coffee

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: Sirius falls for you as you start coming to their coffee shop regularly

Warnings: A fluffy one-shot! No warnings to give ;)

Word Count: 1,912

Sirius groggily started to set up the coffee shop. As much as he loved making artisan coffee, getting up at 6am was always a nightmare. James was beside him, wiping the counter and Remus was gone to the market to get fresh whole milk, bacon and eggs.

Their college time had been amazing but they all had come to the conclusion that they liked the simpler things in life. James had the money; Sirius made the most excellent coffee, Remus baked mouth watering pastries and James had been making the best sandwiches for them since childhood. They opened up a small barista located at the peak point of the city (near colleges, offices) named the “The Marauders’ Eatery”; which had become quite famous through the years. The store opened at 8 and by 9am it bustled with life.

As the day progressed, the crowd got thinner and the boys finally got the time to breathe. Sirius sighed cleaning the mixer.

“Think Marlene will drop by today?” James asked wriggling his eyebrows and Sirius groaned. Over time, the shop had gained quite many patrons. That included some girls who would gush at one of them so very obviously. Marlene was one of the girls who constantly flirted with him. He did not know how he could ever make her understand that he was not interested in her. She couldn’t take a hint.

“Shove off James, go back to thinking how you would impress Lily because we are not giving her any more free coffee!”

“Ah-“James started but someone came to the counter.

“Hello, what can I get you?” Sirius asked with his customary smile. Shit, she was beautiful.

“Can I get a large iced-coffee. Dark. And the banana walnut muffin?”

“Of-course, your name?”

“(Y/n)” she said smiling and Sirius felt his heart flutter.

“Please have a seat, and we’ll call you when your order is up.” Sirius said, moving to do the order.

“Thank you.” She said and moved to sit down.

James raised an eyebrow at Sirius.

“What?”

“You find her cute, don’t you?” he asked and Sirius rolled his eyes.

“She’s okay.” He said, pouring the iced drink in a big cup and placing it on a tray with the muffin and some napkins.

“(Y/n)!!!” he called out as she paid and took the tray from him, thanking him again.

Sirius bit his lip. He constantly sneaked glances at her as she continued to work on her I-pad. She had her headphones on and worked in utmost concentration. She would bite her lip or run a hand through her hair occasionally. Remus snickered at him and he told him off and couldn’t help but blush. (Y/n) looked utterly adorable. She would come up a few times to order something and was incredibly polite each time.

It was almost 8 and James and Remus dealt with their last customers. Sirius straightened his apron and went towards (Y/n), gently patting on her shoulder. She looked up and removed her headphones.

“Can I get you something else? We are closing soon.” Sirius asked. She looked down at her watch and gasped.

“Oh my god! It’s almost 8. No, I don’t want anything else. And thank you for being so welcoming today, your coffee’s the best!” she said and Sirius smiled widely.

“Thank you and you’re welcome here every day.”

As she left the store he heard a clap and turned around to find his best friends smirking at him.

“The girl who Sirius thinks is ‘okay’” James said as Remus grinned.

“Oh and she is ‘welcome here every day’”

“Shove off both of you! That might be the last time she came here, she was just being polite.” He said and James scoffed.

“Doesn’t answer our question.”

***

To Sirius’s pleasant surprise that was in fact not the last time you came to the shop. You started coming to their barista every day, sitting at a corner and working. You drank coffee and tried different bakery products and some of the weirder sandwiches too, much to James delight.

“So, what prompted you all to start this barista?” you said as James worked around.

“Basically we used to be those college students who needed coffee to survive and whatever baristas there were, were either too expensive or the coffee was just too poor. Sirius bought a coffee machine after some time and started making way too excellent coffee.”

“That’s me!” Sirius called out and you giggled.

“Yeah, and I used to make all these midnight snacks for us three, so we just got the idea and did it.” James said as he handed you his newest bacon sandwich.

“Well, I am glad you did, because this place is amazing. The sandwiches too!” You said to the three of them bowed dramatically. You laughed shaking your head at their antics and went to sit at your spot continuing to edit the cover for the new comic.

You yawned and stretched taking a break from drawing. There was a tap on your shoulder and you looked to see Sirius, who offered you some coffee. You raised your eyebrows and he shrugged gesturing towards the seat in front of you.

“Yes, of course.” You said and he sat down in front of you.

“So, I always see you on your I-pad, what do you work on?”

“I actually design comic books for the Bachpan’s convention.” You said taking a sip of the coffe. God it tasted good.

“Bachpan?”

“So basically that’s an organization that researches on child’s behavior and how to help them build better personalities. The comics I make are based on the very same research.”

“Oooh. That’s cool. How do you do it?”

“Subtle references. Most children are driven by desire; they want something or the other. So, we create a very innocent character, which is seemingly just like them and starts to do things their parents warn them against. It helps with the ‘learn by making mistakes’. And then we show them the consequences of doing that. I try not to incorporate a character speaking out the morale directly, so as for the children to figure it out themselves.”

“Can I see some?” he asked. His eyes were so bright right, you were sure you could have said yes to anything he requested.

You showed him your latest work and he laughed at how funny the characters were. Slowly, the conversation shifted and you talked about yourself and your life and Sirius told you how he had a temperament for arts before. You found yourself smiling and listening attentively as he rambled. He was charming. You couldn’t deny that. Those people whom you saw gushing over him had a reason. But there was so much more to him. He was extremely perceptive and intuitive. He was funny, in a very natural way.

“Oi Sirius!” you looked over to Remus who smiled at you. “Get your ass over here; you’ve been talking for over an hour.”

Your eyes widened. Did you really? Your cheeks flushed and you looked at Sirius, who slowly got up.

“Pretty, how time flies, right?” he said and you nodded.

“Well, I had good company.” You said as Sirius’s face erupted in a loopy grin.

***

Sirius and you started sitting and talking every day after that. Sometimes James and Remus joined you two, sometimes they didn’t. You got to know more and more about them. They may think they were they cool and stuff, but according to you, they were the sweetest, nerdiest group ever.

“So, like Sirius used to be the bad boy, playboy-“ James said as you all sat together on one of their breaks.

“Wait, playboy?” you said cocking an eyebrow at Sirius. Sirius flushed.

“Well, I liked sex, don’t blame me!” he said and you giggled.

And somehow, you saw yourself falling for Sirius. You couldn’t point your finger on when or how it happened, it just did. You found your heart fluttering when he flirted with you, your stomach bounced when he winked at you. You couldn’t help it.

Sirius was frustrated. He had started liking you, a lot. He had no idea how to tell you. ‘(Y/n) I love how cute you are and want to take you out on a date.’ Well, that did sound quite okay, but how was he to ask? He always became a blubbering mess whenever he came close to talk to you about liking you. You made him nervous.

There was a ring behind him and he turned enthusiastically, expecting it to be you. He couldn’t be more wrong. Marlene. She came to him with an extra sway of her hips and he winced. He forced a smile.

“Good Morning! What can I get you?”

“Oh Sirius, don’t act like we don’t know each other. Okay, what about you make me whatever you want to today? You know I like everything you do.” She cooed and Sirius stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

He went to work on an espresso and heard someone else come in.

“Hey, Sirius!” your voice came and he turned around excitedly. “Can I get my usual coffee and the cake Remus said he’ll bake today?”

“Of-course!” he said as you sighed, standing at the counter. You did not notice the woman standing beside you glaring at you.

“So did you guys watch it?” you asked referring to the movie, you lent them a day before.

“Oh yeah, it was fantastic! Thank you for recommending it.” he said placing Marlene’s order on the counter, giving her the bill. Sirius noticed how she hadn’t her eyes off you, judging your every move.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Marlene asked and you turned.

“I’m-“

“She’s my girlfriend!” Sirius interrupted and you looked at him wide eyed. You weren’t the only one.

“What?!?” Marlene demanded. Sirius pleaded you with his eyes and you huffed. Fine, you’d play along.

“She’s my girlfriend. Marlene, (Y/n). (Y/n), Marlene.” He gestured between the two of you and you gave her a smile. She shot daggers at you in return. She paid Sirius looking at him in a sickening sweet smile and huffed out of the store. You raised an eyebrow at Sirius.

“She wouldn’t leave me alone!” he whined and you let a little smile play on your lips.

“And the only way to get out of it seemed to be calling me your girlfriend?” you mused and Sirius blushed.

“Well, I mean we two would be quite believable a couple. You are cute and funny and smart and you are someone I want to take out on a date. I mean I LOVE TO. I MEAN I WOULD. HYPOTHETICALLY. I-” he ranted and you found yourself loving the red mess he had become into.

“Sirius.”

“SIRIUS!” you said and he finally stopped.

“There’s a new restaurant open just down the street. I hear the food is mouth watering. Would you like to go with me there tonight?”

Sirius’s eyes widened and you regretted the bout of confidence you were overcome with.

“Like on a date?” he asked and you nodded, gulping. Please don’t say no.

“I would love too.” He said as he started making you a big cup of dark iced coffee. As Sirius gave you the drink and a muffin the two of you smiled at each other. And years later, when people asked you two about your love story your reply was, “Over a cup of coffee.”

A/N: This was written for Riley’s ( @wreckofawriter ) Cliched Month Writing Challenge. Let me know what you think!

#sirius #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #the marauders #marauders #padfoot #marauders x reader #harry potter #hp #sirius black fanfiction #sirius fanfiction #Anu writes #cliche month

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namjoonchronicles · 4 years ago

Text

rough | sj

↳ pairing seokjin x you

↳ genre domestic, fluff, slice of life, heir!seokjin, husband!seokjin, established relationship

↳ words 2.7k

↳ summary again seokjin’s conglomerate family comes in between your marriage, but this time, seokjin will not stay silent

↳ song lauv ‘love like that’

↳ author’s note the 7-day writing challenge continues with seokjin! <3

Blanket rustling. A hand clamored on the vibrating alarm. A silhouette of a broad shoulder of a man sat awake on the edge of the bed, clicking his neck right and left. Seokjin rubs the back of his neck. He slid the indoor slippers on, walked wobbly around the king-sized bed, leaving the striped curtain down for his wife to sleep longer. Hand on the knob to the bathroom, he splashes water on his face. With the tips of his hair wet, he brushed his teeth. The morning always begins the same way from Seokjin. He is up by 6am, he does all his morning necessities, plants a kiss on the wife’s cheek and checks out the daughter in the next room. Once he has gotten a good look and the situation is unalarming, he proceeds to the kitchen. He looked at a post-it note placed on the fridge door, and today, his wife wanted to take kimchi fried rice with egg to the office for lunch.

Easy. I can do that. He thought.

Lily, his 7 years old daughter is still asleep. Overnight yoghurt is ready for her. For his wife, she would have something warm. So he took out a bowl and poured a cup of oats inside, meanwhile the coffee was brewing as it was set to start brewing at about 6:15am in the morning, everyday. Coffee is the most important beverage to start the day. Without it, civilization might not even exist. Seokjin thought as his lips embraced the warm hug of the energizing liquid, downing a sip, cascading down his parched throat. He let out a satisfied sigh. The curtain in the living room is drawn open even before the sun is up. The cold air of the morning had fogged the glass window but with a click of a button, it cleared. Seokjin begin fluffing the cushion on the sofa, fix the runner on the coffee table and cleared the kitchen counter ready for breakfast. It’s almost 6.45am. You’ll be up and you would wake Lily right after. But before that, you will steal his coffee mug.

“Morning to you too,” he monotonously said while you grab his mug from his hand.

“I hate Mondays…” You grumbled.

“But today is Tuesday…” he corrected you, glancing at the digital calendar on the fridge.

“A second monday is no different,” You placed the mug down, and leaned on his arm.

“What time did you sleep last night?” he asked, shaking his arm sporadically to keep you awake because it seemed that you snoozed on them.

“Late, late…” you muttered.

Because of that, Seokjin offered to wake Lily this time around. But only today. Lily is draped over her father’s able body as he walks around, getting the laundries to run so he could dry them on time before the noon drama begins. You are in the shower, still whining about having to leave for work, trashing and sighing and whatever adults do when they have to work to get the bills paid. Sitting in your bathrobe, Seokjin had your oatmeal ready. Lily is on his lap while he fed her overnight yoghurt. She has school this morning, online classes. Lily always had a soft spot for her dad. Technically, he’s mom. He’s the one at home while the mom works. He teaches vocal lessons online after the virus decided to return to the community. He doesn’t really prefer online classes, literally no one does. It’s just not the same. You on the other hand, would have preferred working at home instead. If only you could bring those machines home. The vaccine development is in its pilot state, and there are so many things to be done. Your present is required in all the meetings.

Yesterday, you were up late to decipher the most recent problem your team encountered. The DNAs are denatured when it is transferred into the carrier and no matter how much you argued, (how impossible it was to happen) since there was no presence of heat at all to have caused the denature, it happened anyways.

“Phones off the table please, mummy…” Seokjin warned.

Typing frantically a few more sentences, your phone is taken away by your husband and set on the side table, mere an arm length away. Lily watches in silence and while you wretched in silent agony.

“What’s happened?” Seokjin asked. Telling him everything, explaining it in simple words. Your animated way of telling stories comes in beneficial today, even Lily is engaged. Then the shoulders dropped. The tone mellows and your lips begin to mumble when you hit the no-answer part of the story, the part where it leaves you stuck.

“And I don’t know what to do to fix that particular mishap…”

Seokjin pursed his lips. That’s when Lily reached her little arms out to you.

“It’s okay, mummy. You’ll find a way to do it today…” She even pats your knuckle while at it. You switched your palm upward and held her hand. Seokjin smiled proudly at her, and kissed her hard on the head. You both shared a look across the kitchen counter, and you know you both are thinking of the same thing; Lily surely is an angel. She may be 7, but she doesn’t know just how much that meant to you. You will walk the headquarters today, a lot more confident than you did yesterday, and when you are confident, you are able to look through windows that are otherwise shut. That reminds you of Seokjin truly. He just always had so much faith in you that even if you don’t have it in you, you would think you do just because he believed so.

He hands you your lunch by the door. A hug for a minute every day, therapists say, would be good for the mind, body and soul. Sometimes it drags longer than that, depending on the severity of the situation. But he smells like bed and toothpaste in the morning, with his little bed hair that you wouldn’t mind doing it for an hour. Lily leans down for a kiss on the cheek and she hands you a facemask before you leave while Seokjin hands you the car key. Usually he would drive you to work and fetch you home but since both of his classes and Lily’s are online, there’s no need to go back and forth, exposing themselves to the virus even more while being out. You would like it better if they never had to leave home. Lily waves you goodbye from the door and Seokjin watches you leave with a smile stuck on his face. And you looked back thinking, the year may have taken a number of things, but they’ve also strengthened the little family you have.

Walking in with a comfortable glide by the lounge of the already bustling office, wait… Bustling? Everyone rushed in and out pushing carts of files and trays. Even the decors are being moved about. What is going on? You tilted your head to one side and looked for a familiar face. But seeing no one you know, you opened the door to your office and dialled Yoongi, your trustee alliance in the building. He answered with a cocky huff, “You don’t know? The investors are coming in today!” Yoongi can be all kinds of things, but lying isn’t one. It was not impossible for investors to come in without a proper walkthrough towards the manufacture of the vaccine but, isn’t this way too early?

“I think they’re antsy, the economy is at its lowest this time of day and they want profit… Capitalists,” Yoongi swings in with his coffee mug.

“I thought this would be on Friday, I would have had everything ready on Friday,” you fussed, shifting papers and files, frantically typing on last modifications on the presentation you had prepared.

“That, you could blame your rookie assistant, the new boy, what’s his name,” Yoongi clicked his tongue, proceeds to think hard.

“Yeonjun?” “Yes, Yeonjun. He got the time zone all wrong…”

You shut your eyes in agony. Noticing your silence, Yoongi took a seat in front of, swivel in the chair in the behaviour of an heir to a convenient store chain, before stopping dead in front of you, voice deeper than the sea.

“Mrs. Kim,” he said, “Aren’t you afraid? “Of what?” “The investors that are coming are Astra Pharmaceutics…” “So?” “They’re linked to your in-laws medical centres… before your marriage with Kim Seokjin.”

Astra Pharma. It is a joint company orchestrated by your father-in-law, their first ever attempt to venture into the medical line. How could you forget the name of the company? Astra Pharma is owned by a powerful chaebol Kim clan, one of which Seokjin grew up with. They have a daughter that they wanted Seokjin to marry with. That was 10 years ago, which means that that daughter is going to pioneer the company now, and her name is Kim Yoojin. Every year she sends a bouquet of flowers to Seokjin’s family restaurant on New Year's. She never missed any stores that Seokjin family opens.

Yoongi searched her name on Naver for you. She is standing on the patio, giving out speeches. It most certainly didn’t help that she is elegant, stunning and charismatic. Even as she walked into the meeting room right now, with her entourage. She really wants to talk business. And you know nothing about that. Your defenses are science, your core is pharmaceutical and your strength is knowledge. If she begins a financial jargon with you, you will be making a fool out of yourself. Somehow, knowing that she is the preferred daughter-in-law, makes it even worse.

No room for mistakes.

Dial tone, and again, unanswered.

“Where could mummy be…” Seokjin hums. “A meeting probably…” Lily replied.

Seokjin gapes his mouth open to have his daughter feed him a biscuit. Lily, being a little rascal refuses to give up her biscuits.

“That’s right, that’s how I raised you, don’t share unless you get something too,” Seokjin joked around. Seokjin might have left the stove running when he answered a call from his mother. Lily was drawing on the dining table, waiting for her next online class. She is to take pictures of her drawings and send them to her teacher. Seokjin returns to the kitchen, placing the phone sandwiched between his shoulder and ear.

“Son,” she began, “Why don’t you take your wife to a resort this weekend so Lily could spend the weekend with her grandparents here in Hannam… wouldn’t that be nice?”

Seokjin squeezed his eyes, and set down that spatula.

“Mom….” he warned, “Is there something else you would like to tell me?”

After hearing what his mother had to say, Seokjin rushed out the door along with Lily, driving down the white Palisade to Hannam mansion where his mother was waiting outside. Seokjin drops Lily and rushes inside the mansion to grab a few more things. But before he leaves, he locks his eyes on his mother and says with utmost firmness, “You and I will have to talk after I get this settled.” His mother gave him a stricken smile while Lily smiled wickedly at her father. Blue Lamborghini, Aventador S engine roars as it sped out the garage door. Seokjin pulls down the window to speak to his daughter, “Behave, or else…” Lily gave out an ‘OK’ sign with her fingers.

The luxurious car then sped out into the street.

There weren’t any mistakes. Any investors coming would have been persuaded by the way you carry the presentation. The marketing strategy and pilot scale up plans are concise and rectified. The points are delivered extensively and with proper explanation. However, when you were prepared for scientific questions and whatnot, you come to realise that the CEO of Astra Pharma was interested in anything but science.

“How is Kim Seokjin?”

Everyone else in the room was taken aback by the strangely intimate question posed on a vaccine presentation. It was out of line and obviously, out of place. Even as a person as wealthy as her. Not only was it a deliberate display of her unprofessionalism, she was also bringing down her company’s image. It’s like she is ready to overturn the hard work her parents put into raising her, for a man who is married to someone else.

“He is… perfectly well, though I am not sure what’s that has got to do with our topic of discussion for today…”

You mumbled the last few words to yourself. What is she doing? What is she thinking of doing? Steal Seokjin back? If that’s her intention, then it's the worst strategy she could ever come up with. Not only would it fail her immensely, Seokjin will literally drag her and her family’s face down in the dirt for even trying to tear his family apart. You know him enough to know that he would fight the world for his wife and kids. Hence, that’s why you couldn’t understand Yoojin’s motive to bring this all up, ten years after. Is she trying to embarrass you? In the middle of a presentation filled by scientists who care nothing about the personal lives of one of their own? She is only making a fool out of herself, despite her money.

“You must have been so confused… as to why I brought up your husband in this…” she stood up in her Swarovski studded heels. She made her way to you around the table, enticing everyone in the room with her walk and her words.

“No, I am confused as to why a company like yours is interested in investing in the same exact study your own university is working on. It’s like buying the exact same cows doing the exact same thing, producing the exact type of product with twice the price,” you tracted.

“I guess that’s why he liked you,” she looks down to the floor and up the ceiling with a cunning smile, “You’re a sheep in the pack of wolves.” She locked her hyena-like eyes to you. The hair in the back of your neck stood up. You have no idea what she meant by that.

“I am investing for you to stop. Your formula is bound to fail anyways. So before the company suffers any more losses due to your incompetence, I suggest you halt all activity and let the high rollers play the game. This field is not for amateurs.”

“I think you might have forgotten that I am a scientist, not a businesswomen. Your concern is not mine to worry. My job is to get to my vaccines and make sure it works, and that’s what I’m paid to do. Whether or not you invested, is none of my concerns.”

You collected your things on the desk. And she smiled wickedly,

“Well then, you leave me no choice, I will have to sue you for forging the templates my company has patented…” “How do you sue me for fraud if I don’t do any forging?”

“You’re surely a meek girl… Seokjin will have to cushion the blow with an expensive legal fee now don’t he?”

Was there a mole in the company? Yoongi walks in. Along with Seokjin.

“Tell them what you did,” Seokjin said, and then, “Tell them what you did!” He thundered.

Yoongi confessed to stealing the documents and making it seem like it was forged. He also sent the emails and had them edited so the dates were wrong. He was paid handsomely by Astra Pharma to send all updates on the formula which then led the pharma company to imitate the make-ups protein-by-protein. He used the friendship he had established with you to gain all access to your files. He also confessed that he refused to continue doing it and when he decided to pull the plugs from Astra Pharma, Astra Pharma threatened him. He had no choice but to abide to the play Yoojin wanted orchestrated. When it was clear what Yoojin actually wanted (to spill dirt on your name so she could feel above you for once in her life after she lost Seokjin), Yoongi decided to come clean. He came to Seokjin’s mother and begged for forgiveness, because it was through her that he had gotten a job in your pharma company.

. . .

Seokjin leans on his blue lamborghini, waiting for you to come outside. He has his Raybans on and a black bomber jacket over a white tee.

“Are you mad at my family?” “Won’t you be?”

The car door lifts up and you climb in.

“You should have just married her and this all could have been avoided.” “Where’s the fun in that?”

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infinites-chaser · 4 years ago

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today, this is the whole universe (and that’s okay) | mlqc | gavin/mc | domestic fluff

Gavin and MC spend a sleepy Sunday together.

The first rays of warm, buttery dawn light are barely brushing the edges of the half-open blinds when Gavin stirs, eyes blinking open, mouth stretching wide in a quiet yawn, MC still fast asleep in his arms, her hair like a soft silk blanket across his chest. Carefully, trying his best to not disturb her, he reaches over her head to grab at the top of the nightstand, where both their phones sit, charging, hers quiet, his buzzing softly but insistently with his morning alarm.

With an easy, practiced swipe, he silences it, placing it next to hers once more. He brings his hand back to caress her cheek, then begins the slow process of freeing his body by gently shifting her onto the bed itself. At his touch, she murmurs something. Soft and unintelligible as it is, it still manages to bring a small smile to his face.

For a moment, he lets himself lie there, thumb tracing the curve of her cheekbones, the edge of her lips, lets the warm rise and fall of her chest and the beat of her heart in time with his complete him— she's the only peace he’ll ever want, the only peace he thinks he’ll ever need.

Another alarm sets his phone off, and the moment’s over. But as he reaches to silence his phone again, MC stirs, turning her head just the slightest so her lips brush the tip of his thumb.

“What time is it?” comes her sleepy mumble.

“Just past five.”

He lets his phone fall back onto the nightstand, pulls her close as she wriggles around in his arms to bring her face to his, their noses a breath apart.

“I was about to go on my morning run,” he explains. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. The sun did.”

As she shakes her head, their noses bump. He laughs, and feels the gentle tremor of her laughter, too: warmth and light given voice, given music. He presses a kiss to her forehead and she smiles, eyes curling into little half-moons, then slipping closed.

“Go back to sleep,” he says, stifling another laugh. “You had a late night.”

“Did not.”

Her eyes are still closed, but she’s grinning. He scoffs.

“Did too.”

He’s expecting another, more indignant did not, but a long minute passes, and her breathing evens out, the grin on her face softening to a gentle smile as her head pillows in the crook of his arm.

Good, he thinks, even as he’s trapped by her again. She needs the sleep more than he needs to run.

She’d been up past midnight the night before, despite it being a weekend— the company had wrapped shooting for the next installment of City News late Friday night, but Minor, who was slated to edit the footage, had come down with a cold, and she’d volunteered to do it instead. Twenty-five hours and many a frustrated moment later, she’d finished, with Gavin doing his best to support and not hover the whole while (Though in his defense, even if he hadn’t actually had a case report to work on at the table, too, she’d appreciated the constant supply of coffee he’d provided her, and had eaten the meals he’d tried to make for her).

He’d chastise her for it, a short, well-intentioned lecture about how she really should consider herself and her own health before taking on even more work and responsibilities, but he’s sure the same could be said about him, too. And, exhausted as she may be, he knows she’d have been equally stressed had the work gone to someone else, and now she’s finished, and satisfied with the work she’s done, so really, more than anything else, he’s proud of her.

Now she has all of Sunday to rest— and even if it means sleeping half the morning away, he’s glad to be with her while she does it.

The sound of her breathing, slow and even, lulls him back into a light sleep until seven am, when the summer sunlight streaming in through the blinds is blanketing the bottom half of the bed, too bright for him to ignore. He drops a kiss on the top of MC’s hair before carefully sliding out from under her, and this time she’s sleeping so deeply that she doesn’t stir, not even when he settles her head atop a pillow, and pulls the sheets a little more tightly around her to make up for his absent warmth.

Despite how bright it is outside— too bright, and therefore too hot, he decides, for a run— the kitchen floor’s cool under his feet, even through the soles of his slippers.

Hot coffee it is, he thinks, filling up the well-used coffee machine, then poking around in the pantry for the jar of grounds, only to find it’s nearly empty. There’s enough coffee for two more cups, maybe three, but he makes a mental note to buy more the next time they’re out shopping.

While the coffee brews, he crosses the kitchen to open the fridge, then frowns at its contents. Shopping will have to be soon, there’s not much left in it, either, but for now, it’ll do.

The coffee machine beeps, satisfied after filling the first mug to the brim. He takes it, though the first cup’s normally for MC, gulps down a few sips with a grimace, then stirs in two sugars— it’s how she likes hers, he’s used to taking his black, but it seems her sweet tooth’s contagious.

In the time it takes her to finally wake up, he manages to prepare brunch with whatever’s left in the fridge. The cornerstone, of course, is the coffee, in the second of their matching mugs, as sweet as she likes it, two sugars, no milk. There’s a blueberry muffin he leaves her, and he fries up a couple of eggs, puts them on some toast with butter and jam as options for spreads, then adds the last of the strawberries, tries to make the whole thing presentable, or at the very least, vaguely cute, if only because it’ll put the brightest smile on her face when she sees it.

It does— her sleepy eyes widen as she first takes the sight of the laden tray in, then comprehension lights her whole face up, and her lips stretch into a still-tired, but broad grin.

“Gavin,” she protests even as he slides back into bed next to her, stealing a kiss, “you shouldn’t have!”

He smiles, tapping the rim of his mug to hers as she takes a big sip, then sighs, content.

“It’s only because you went to sleep so late last night. I had to.”

“It wasn’t that late! And it’s only because it was a lot of work that I didn’t wake up ‘til now.”

‘Wasn’t that late’ is two am and ‘now’ is one pm, and he points both out with a chuckle. She pouts, hiding behind another sip of coffee.

“I’ll go to sleep earlier from now on!” She vows.

“How early?”

“Um, one am?”

“That’s not early enough.”

He flicks her forehead and frowns, but she only laughs.

Despite his worry and gentle admonition, though, he can’t say he minds this at all: a weekend afternoon spent in bed, no deadlines or stress to think of, just her smile, her warm laugh and the bright summer sun in the window, a universe they’ve created between the folds of the covers, a universe of breakfast smells, soft pillows, and coffee, a universe just for them.

Dinner, a few lazy hours later, is takeout oden hotpot. His excuse is that there’s nothing left in the fridge, and possibly, also the fact that he’s uncertain his cooking skills are passable enough for a good Sunday dinner, but he’ll take any reason to treat MC to her favorite, so he does.

Her eyes flick from the familiar logo on the takeout bag up to his when he sets it on the kitchen table. He can read the ‘Gavin, you shouldn’t have,’ in them a heartbeat before she says the words.

“Eat up while it’s still hot,” is his only reply, and with a smile, he hands her a pair of disposable chopsticks after breaking them apart with a small snap. She looks from him to the steaming pot of food. When he doesn’t move, she picks up a fish cake and a piece of vegetable, and holds it out to him with an answering smile.

“You first. You really like the fish cakes from here, right?”

He nods, fighting another smile and the smallest blush, then takes the bite, gesturing for her to eat, too, as he chews and swallows.

While she’s busy filling her own bowl, he takes his own chopsticks and picks out a few choice pieces, then holds his first bite out to her, too. She takes it without protest, but then tries to give her second bite to him, and he counters by trying to give her both his second and his third—

The hotpot’s finished, in that manner, within the next hour and a half. When the pot’s full of only broth, they take a look at each other, then MC begins to laugh.

“My stomach’s stuffed— are you prepared to take responsibility for this crime, Officer Gavin?” she manages, between laughs, trying and failing to put on a pitiful expression as she rubs her belly.

“Only if you start eating proper meals regularly,” he replies after a heartbeat, clearing his throat, and she huffs, but there’s a matching spark of amusement in both their eyes.

They wash the dishes from the day together, MC with the sponge, Gavin behind her, his arms not quite around her, taking each dish and drying it with a towel before putting it to rest on the dish rack. Once the last bowl is scrubbed and shining, nestled firmly in place, they settle together in a comfortable tangle of limbs on the couch.

It’s a gentle sort of quiet for all of five minutes before someone tickles the other— Gavin’ll swear up and down it wasn’t him— and it turns into a full-scale tickle war.

He gets in a few good ones, her breathless laughter mingling with his, warm and loud and bright, but then her elbow slips, (“it wasn’t on purpose!” she claims later) devious, into his gut.

“Do you surrender?” she asks, perched atop his chest, mischievous glint in her eyes. He starts to raise his arms, thinks better of it, then settles for a resigned nod.

“You got me,” he replies, then smiles when she leans in to brush her lips against his.

He doesn’t use the opportunity to tickle her again— he’s far more mature than that. He doesn’t.

And if they collapse into giddy giggles later, sides aching, breath spent, the couch pillows strewn across the plush white carpet, the coffee table askew, well, that's both their faults, not just his.

The sun’s long since slipped below the horizon by the time they’ve cleaned up the living room and taken a seat again, tired out. The room's wide windows give them both a glimpse into an otherworldly dimension, one made of night and stars and the soft glow of city lights far below, a universe at their feet, though the only one he cares about is right beside him, chin on his shoulder, the rest of her stretched out on the sofa while he sits on the floor.

“Play something for me?” she murmurs into his ear as he fiddles with his guitar, the two of them illuminated by the glow of his lamp of stars and the moonlight.

He lets his fingers dance across the guitar strings until it turns into music, a soft, warm melody that somehow tugs on the edges of his memory though he’s sure he’s never played it before in his life, and he’s humming along before he even realizes it, the notes familiar, nostalgic, like coming home.

MC’s head tips up, eyes wide, and his fingers slip from the strings. The music stops.

“Play that again?”

He nods, obliges instinctively, and there’s the melody again, chords like his life given new meaning, breathed alive in the spaces between the start of one note and the end of another, slow and quiet at first, then building, gently lingering.

“Do you know the song?” he asks. “It feels familiar, somehow—”

His voice trails off. The words, once spoken aloud, seem almost silly. It’s more than familiar, it’s something deep, significant, more than he could ever put into words.

She shakes her head with a slight frown. At her silence, he picks through the notes again, humming them, memorizing their sound, their shape, their feel until the snippet’s over again, fading, a song left unfinished, perhaps because its (his, their) story hasn’t yet come to an end.

“I think I’ve heard it before,” she says at last with a small, wistful smile, then leans over the guitar to press a kiss to his lips. Reflected in her eyes, he fancies, is not just the lamplight, but the light of all the universe, a hundred galaxies, a thousand stars.

“Maybe it was in a dream.”

#mlqc #mlqc gavin #mlqc fanfic #mr love queen's choice #mlqc bai qi #val writes #attack of the ao3 titles #also the last time i wrote smth purely fluffy and this is *checks date* from #tWO months ago to the day #anyway that last part was inspired by gavin's CN VA playing his theme i cry everytime i hear that weiofkldsf

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sea-side-scribbles · 4 years ago

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Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/75899453#workskin

Chapter 57

Nick was high the entire night. His heart felt lighter than ever and even though he had smiled and laughed before it felt like he did it for the first time. No secrets, no lies, no hidden gifts…just pure joy - and the confidence that nothing could ever destroy their friendship and their love. Not even Nick himself. And that defeating himself had been necessary to get all of this back.

It seemed to him that also Morrie acted differently, that he was happier than before, while they exchanged little glances and nudges.

Also Matt, who had been quite reserved because of the trouble he had caused to Morrie was now very friendly again. And the band, if they had any worries, they didn’t show it.

Nick found it was one of the best nights in his life, even though Morrie and him were too exhausted to do anything more than cuddle and fall asleep. He woke up refreshed and with all bad feelings wiped out of his mind.

Sleepily, he lied in bed, blinking and looking at the ceiling. The sun was already up but the house was quiet. Even Morrie was still asleep. The former night had been probably very exhausting for his sensitive lover. Nick didn’t want to wake him up yet.

Why, even?

He felt like he had all the time in the world to enjoy this moment.

Then he got an idea. Something he had never done for another person before but he thought Morrie would like very much.

He quietly left the bed and sneaked into the kitchen, glad that everyone else was still asleep, therefore unable to disturb this peaceful moment. He closed the door just in case. Also, he wondered how he’d get it all up the stairs when it was finished, but he told himself to care about it later.

Wait - did he even have anything in his fridge? He usually provided himself with coffee and other liquids and went to eat somewhere else.

While the coffee machine was busy, he opened the fridge and was surprised to find it filled. The last time it had been this full was when he still had a wife. He guessed it was Virgil who took care that his superstars won’t starve.

Good old Virgil.

Nick took out everything he found necessary and put a pan on the stove, happy to have a real breakfast for once. Morrie would be surprised.

Nick didn’t consider himself to be fancy at cooking but it wasn’t hard to make some scrambled eggs with bacon and toast. He remembered that after a long exhausting night, it tasted like heaven.

It would be just right.

He even found a tray to serve it all on. It became rather heavy and made him regret he didn’t have a kitchen upstairs, but well, he couldn’t turn back now, so he carefully sneaked back to the upper floor.

In the corridor, he heard that his lover was looking for him.

“Norrie? Norrie, where are you?“

Suddenly, he came around the corner.

“Watch out!“, Nick shouted.

The tray clanked and the dishes shook. Quickly, Morrie saved the coffee pot from being shattered on the floor.

“That was close!“

Then Morrie eyed what was in front of him.

“You…you made breakfast?“

“Yeah“, Nick said shrugging. “I thought you’re maybe hungry and…wouldn’t it be nice to have breakfast in bed? It’s not Avalon quality, but it’s made with lots of love.“

Morrie beamed. “When did you learn how a stove works?“

“Hey“, Nick mildly protested. “I learned it from you, I guess.“

They went back into the bedroom, where Nick was happy to put the heavy tray down. When they sat around it, Nick started pouring the coffee.

“What happened to you?“ Morrie showed that Nick’s surprise was doing it’s magic.

“I just want to try new things“, he answered, handing a mug to his lover. “Now that you’re with me, I feel that I have the strength to do so.“

“Aww“, Morrie said, half teasing and half touched. “I’m glad you see it this way now.“

Nick smiled back. “It took me long enough.“

“We have time to make up for it…It’s already a good start“, his lover said, looking at the food with delight in his eyes.

Nick made sure to give Morrie all the attention. But when he shared some scrambled eggs with him, he was suddenly reminded of a situation that had been similar to this, that he had enjoyed too but now made him uncomfortable.

He didn’t want to think about it now but he had to admit he had forced it with his self-made breakfast, believing he could take one of his once favorite memories and rewrite it, correct it.

Now he realized that he couldn’t change his past so easily.

He didn’t even want to change it. Or did he? He wasn’t sure.

It felt unfair to delete him this way. He still had helped him out, made him happier, no matter what his intentions had been. Perhaps he should keep the memories, hold them dear and not mix them up with his new life.

“Hey, what’s wrong?“, he suddenly heard Morrie ask and a hand gently palpated his arm.

Nick lifted his head, confused.

“You looked sad…“, Morrie pointed out.

“It’s nothing…Don’t worry, I’m not sad, why would I be?“, Nick tried to shake it off and continued to eat. The silence that came after that told him that his lover wasn’t convinced at all. And Morrie’s expression concerned him too.

“Morrie, please…“

The other man sorely went back to eating.

“Alright…I guess I’ll find out anyway…Everything you’ve tried to hide so far came out all by itself. I just hoped I didn’t have to wait for that anymore.“

“Morrie!“, Nick blurted out.

They exchanged glances.

Dejected, Nick went on: “I was thinking about something that isn’t part of my life anymore. It’s over.“

Morrie reflected on that. “And that’s making you sad? Because you miss it?“

Nick turned away. “Just give me some time, okay?“

“I just want to know if you’re in danger or not…“, his lover urged him.

“I’m fine“, Nick promptly replied, still turning his back to the other man. “I’m saying goodbye. That’s all.“

“Alright…“ Morrie sighed.

After a while, Nick turned around again. “Morrie…I know I made a promise but you have to trust me too. Don’t jump at me every time I look weird! This is getting us nowhere!“

Morrie put his plate down.

“You’re right…“, he said calmer. His expression was apologetic. “I’m just so worried about you…and us…and everything….I guess I worry too much.“ He cracked a painful smile. “Do you think I should take more Joy?“

Nick eyed his lover. “I think you’re…perfect the way you are…“

“But it’s true, right? You’re not afraid, aren’t you?“

“I was“, Nick admitted. “But it’s getting better.“ He gave him a warm smile and his lover slowly joined.

“We’ll make it, Morrie. One by one, it’s gonna be the life we want to live.“

His lover, if he believed it or not, lit up.

When they continued their meal, Nick swore to himself that he’d always cheer Morrie up. That’s what he’d live for, and like that they’d overcome everything.

Later that day, he could focus more on what they had accomplished as a band. The Make Believes had become very popular and his friends started to receive fan letters and got recognized on the street. It was like the fans forgot they had ever been apart.

When Morrie and Nick met the others, they told them that they felt very nostalgic and planned to bring some of the old glamour back into their lives. The house would be perfect for it, with the stage and the bar and everything. In short, they wanted to have a party. Like one of the old days, with all the town’s celebrities and everyone else who promised to be fun. They felt like they’ve been hiding long enough.

Nick couldn’t hide how much he liked the idea. He was ready to show himself to the world again and prove that he got back into his old shape. However, he kept worrying that Morrie might not like it. During their conversation, his lover looked less excited, but agreed with everything. When all was settled, Nick found an excuse to separate Morrie and him from the group and have a talk in private.

“Are you really ready for this?“, he asked quietly.

Morrie dug his hands into his pockets.

“Well…I guess I’ll never be. But it makes sense. We have to get out of our shell once in a while.“

“Morrie, if you’re not ready, we can wait. I wouldn’t blame you.“

“No, it’s fine…Just give me some halfway decent guests to talk to…“

They chuckled.

“It’s only for one night. We’ll make it“, Nick assured him. “And if you can’t stand it any longer, you know where my secret hideout is.“

Morrie grinned shortly, then he turned serious again. “Will you be careful?“

Nick knew what he meant. It was the other elephant in the room. He had no idea how many female fans would be there, but they wouldn’t be rare. And they’d expect something from him.

He nodded. “I have an idea. It’s not gonna be very polite but I’ll use every cheap trick to get away from my fans when they become…well…clingy. I’ll make sure I’ll have enough party favors and drinks.“

“Sounds like you’re gonna be very busy…“

“Not the way I shouldn’t be.“

“Does that mean you…you won’t shag any of them?“

“Yeah…“ Nick shrugged sheepishly. “That’s the plan.“

Morrie didn’t say anything to that. Instead he fell into Nick’s arms.

Nick looked forward to proving his love once more.

“Why don’t you just go?“, said a nasty voice in his head.

It had been bothering him ever since his last meeting with Nick had gone so horribly wrong. And whatever he tried to shut it up, it kept coming back.

“Why?“

It was his only company. Nick didn’t come back.

Was he busy? Well, the star was always busy. And left Arthur torn apart.

He blamed himself and he blamed Nick.

Of course, a Wellie wouldn’t want to leave the town, or even hear about it. He should’ve shut his damn mouth. As if he forgot how it felt to be on Joy.

He wouldn’t have done it though, if Nick hadn’t seemed to be so different, made him feel like he could tell him everything and Nick would understand, at least try.

Then there was that other nasty feeling in his stomach.

What if it wasn’t about ’leaving the town’ that had made Nick snap? And no matter how often he blamed himself that he should’ve been more polite about it, his mind always came back to the fact that he had simply asked for a bigger part in Nick’s life. And Nick had said no.

It could be that he had already been to afraid of the Downer to let him into his home, but what if not?

What did all of this mean?

Would Nick even come back?

“So why don’t you leave? Stop living a dream. You have a Letter of Transit. Use it. Nick doesn’t love you.“

Arthur angrily wiped his eyes. Not now.

He was out for a walk after hiding in his shelter for hours, because he had to be in an at least acceptable shape to pretend being on Joy. He really needed some fresh air now.

Well, as fresh as it could be in a town full of toxic gas.

Somehow, his Letter of Transit had found it’s way into his jacket.

Arthur tried not to think about it while he felt like he was walking in circles. All the streets looked the same in Hamlyn Village, and they were so narrow, they made him imagine himself as a lab rat in a labyrinth. But there was no cheese.

“Time go get out.“

He shook his head. It couldn’t be a dream. There had been more between Nick and him than sexual desire.

“They why don’t you go face him and ask?“

Well…perhaps because he didn’t have the heart? Or because it was unfair?

Why did he always have to ask for a date? Why wouldn’t Nick come back? It would feel so good if he came back, being sorry, and telling him that of course he could move in.

Arthur stopped and wiped his eyes again. He must look so pathetic.

Sadly, he glanced at a TV screen that hung from a wall, installed to provide the Wellies with the newest propaganda. Other pedestrians stopped too to watch when Uncle Jack’s face appeared on screen. Arthur envied them.

“Make me laugh, Uncle Jack“, he muttered. “Anything to distract me.“

Already seconds later, he couldn’t stand it anymore to watch his forced smile and childish jokes. He continued his sad stroll until he heard a familiar name and stopped once more.

Of course he was in the news.

He was always in the news.

The town craved his happy comeback with his happy songs and his happy rags.

This time, Uncle Jack was beaming with joy to announce that there was going to be a party at Nick’s fab pad, and everyone could come, as long as they behaved, he added with a little wink.

Arthur started to feel hot and cold. The amount of people that would be there, trying to get to Nick…his Nick.

While everyone was chattering about the happy news, Arthur decided that he had found another excuse to visit Nick. After all, he had to make up to Mrs. Oliphant for not taking any photos of Nick’s proposal.

“No you don’t. You could just get out of here.“

“Shut up!“, he said out loud.

A woman that had been chattering with her friend gave him a shocked look.

“Uh…because I’m so happy to see you!“, Arthur added, forcing a wide grin. “And you, and you…!“, he said to the staring Wellies. “See you at the party…!“ Waving them goodbye, he skipped around a corner.

#we happy few #whf #wehappyfew #whf nick #whfnick #whf arthur #whfarthur #whfarthurhastings #whfnicklightbearer #nick lightbearer #nicklightbearer #morrie memento #nickxmorrie #nickxarthur

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