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littlefreya · 4 years ago

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Vanilla Milkshake

Summer: Henry and a long time friend hangout at their usual spot when things turn chaotic because of an innocent misunderstanding...

Prompted by:

Oooh Freyaaaa I just *need* some scene featuring Henry and ofc drinking milkshake.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Unamed OFC (no description of ethnicity or body type).

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: RPF, major fluff, friends to lovers, sexual innuendo, mild seduction, sex talk, an unwanted boner, Henry being a boomer, Henry having a meltdown.

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own.*

A/N: So, first thing first, thanks @agniavateira for quickly beta’ing my work! And of course thanks @the-soot-sprite for bouncing ideas with me and being an emotional support. Decided to go with friends for lovers because I live for that stuff. Also, I am aware that “Milkshake” can be interpreted in several ways but for the sake of the story I went with that particular reference. Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed. 🖤

Title: Vanilla Milkshake

“I swear, this diner looks like Barbie had an orgasm all over the place.” A whimsical grin sliced between Henry’s marble cheeks. Eyeing the pastel-esque surroundings, he huffed scornfully and adjusted the cap over his nest of unruly curls.

“Remind me again why we always meet here, young lady?”

Staring at the beastly man who barely managed to squeeze into the plastic-pink faux leather booth, she couldn’t help but chuckle. Henry carried himself with something that was both eloquent yet unmistakably feral, reminding her of a burly forest creature. Sturdy tree trunks stood for limbs, torso, and shoulders—the widths of icy mountains and a blanket of thick fur coated the entirety of his body, deeming him a dangerous bear.

No wonder he preferred himself clean-shaven. The sharpened edge of a razor kept him a cut away from becoming ‘Henry the Barbarian’.

Seeing him surrounded by pastel and sparkly fairy dust brought far more joy than she could ever imagine. The utter look of contempt gleamed on the surface of his shifty eyes.

Oh, by God, how much he hated glitter!

“And what would you know about Barbie’s orgasms?” she teased with a crooked eyebrow and a comical suspicious glare.

Readjusting his cap over the messy mane of chocolate curls, Henry offered a terrible wink and shrugged, “a gentleman never tells.”

Her fingers rapped on her thigh while she contemplated whether to allow this naughty joke slide, but then the urge to provoke him was far too great. After briefly chewing on the inside of her cheek, she broke into a wicked grin.

“Is that… like a role play you have with the missus? She’s Barbie, and you’re G.I.Joe? Because I kinda don’t want to hear about it, but then I kinda do.”

Henry’s smile gradually faded along with the playful glee in his eyes, his melancholic gaze dropping to the sparkly table. He slumped into a heavy sigh, “If by missus, you mean ‘Miss Hand’, then no… not really.”

Dumbfounded, she frowned at Henry with confusion when then it struck her; a sense of incredible embarrassment drained the blood from her head to her gut.

“Oh…”

“Yep.” Henry blurted and grabbed the menu, pretending to be incredibly interested in the kids’ meal options.

Just in time to rescue them from a prolonged awkward silence, the waitress arrived with their order, serving Henry a hot cup of double espresso while she received a tall glass of a luscious vanilla milkshake.

“Enjoy your drinks, guys!” the waitress smiled sweetly and kept her eyes glued to Henry as she walked away. But the gloss of the waitress’ flirtatious excitement was lost on him; drenched with greed, Henry’s blue sapphires were fixated on the generous scoops of ice cream and the dark chocolate swirls that decorated his companion’s dessert.

“Henry, my eyes are up here!” she provoked and grabbed the straw between two fingers while throwing an amused glance at his simple cup of coffee. Henry followed her gaze and scoffed before raising the cup to his mouth and blowing to cool his drink.

The way his lips pursed together and his finger stroked the ceramic surface did not escape her observation. A sudden tingle swam down the length of her spine once it resonated in her mind that kind, charming, and beastly Henry was now single. Here they were, long time buddies, but now sitting together felt less comfortable than before. Her limbs felt like pins and needles while staring directly at his eyes was as risky as staring at the sun.

“Cheers,” Henry mumbled and took a sip from his cup.

Almost jolting in her seat, she stiffened and then grabbed her straw.

“Cheers.”

Giggles came from the other side of the diner. Among the retro gumball machines and rounded plastic bar stools, the waitress and a colleague leaned against the counter and stared at Henry, who turned his head for a brief moment and tipped his head.

Their giggles turned even louder.

She frowned.

“So, have you been single for a while?” she heard herself asking with a rather urgent tone. Right away, a look of contrition crept on her face as she regretted her verbal onslaught and lack of sensitivity.

Henry directed his gaze back to her and watched as she slowly sipped from the milkshake and then suckled the cream off her mouth.

Absentmindedly, he licked his lips. “Since May. How about you, weren’t you with…?”

“No, ended, dodged a bullet.” she spat and pumped the straw up and down the thick beverage. “My milkshake brings all the boys… except it doesn't.” she sighed.

Henry frowned and shook his head with confusion. “What? You never told me you make your own milkshake. How come I never had some?”

Her face abruptly froze, her eyes rounded with surprise before she snorted so loudly the waitresses stopped their whispering.

“Umm… Hen?” she called out, trying to hold herself from bursting into chuckles as her friend accidentally asked for a very sexual favour, “you honestly don’t know what ‘milkshake’ is slang for...?”

“Uh…”

“Omg, you’re such a boomer.”

“No, I was born in ‘83! I’m a millennial. But please, indulge me.” he begged and crossed his arms together.

Clearing her throat loudly, she did her best to fight the wicked grin that stretched on her already painful cheeks and wrapped her fist around the straw. “So you know... how… certain male bodily fluids are sometimes white and creamy...? And when you perform a certain motion it’s like you’re shaking it…?”

Henry blinked and became silent. An unbidden rush of blood pooled at his groin as he watched her thumb graze over the tip of the straw and her fist pumping it into the smooth liquid in a slow, gentle motion. Wickedness glazed her eyes, but he tried to dismiss it as nothing but their usual playful banter; yet his adam’s apple bobbed up and down while his shoulder tensed at the oddly arousing sight of her performing a sinful act on a milkshake.

There was an unmistakable stir in his cock and for once, he was thankful for narrow spaces as it hid his predicament.

Leaning forward, she opened her mouth and swirled her tongue around the straw. She went deliberately slow, making him watch while she playfully licked and suckled the tip until finally wrapping her lips around it and taking a generous sip.

Henry gawked utterly smitten, unaware that his jaw was nearly at the floor.

And to make things worse, she moaned—not too loud—but definitely enough to make his shaft harden more.

She wasn’t sure what stirred this whimsical boost of confidence, only that seeing the large, handsome man pale at her provocations made her feel like the most powerful woman on earth. She also gathered she’d regret it forever and a day once they’ll part ways, but it was too late for that now.

Gingerly she pulled back, though not before allowing a single drop of cream to trickle down the corner of her lips.

“Oops,” she smirked casually, wiping the cream with her fingertip and sucking it clean.

“Please stop…”

It was then when she noticed that Henry’s playful mien was all but gone. Far from amused, he glowered with a clenched jaw. “If you’re going to keep doing that, I’ll have to leave,” he stated matter-of-factly.

A rush of panic made her freeze in her spot, the same needles that pricked her skin were now setting jolts of electric bursts. “I’m so sorry, I crossed the line,” she said and covered her mouth with shame, “did I offend you? Do you want me to leave?”

“What? No, no, not at all.” Henry’s voice softened right away, and he reached a hand in the air, as if trying to stop her from leaving. The last thing he wanted now is for her to think he is angry with her. If anything, he wished they could spend more time together, not because of his obvious arousal, but because for the first time in a long while, he was having fun.

Still, she looked at him so utterly distraught.

“Then…?”

Henry scanned the diner as if trying to make sure no one was staring or taking any photo and then shifted in his seat uncomfortably. His eyes altered between his spread thighs and her several times, trying to signal toward his… trouble.

“Oh...” she gaped.

An odd sense of pride began to permeate her chest, battling over the burning embarrassment that flamed up her neck and cheeks. At this point, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to feel, only that it was definitely the most awkward hangout they had to date.

Problem was, she never knew when to shut up.

“Is little Henry hungry?”

Hearing those words, his brows dropped to an irritated sulk. “There is nothing little about it.”

“Ha! Prove it!”

It was as if the entire diner and perhaps the world fell into silence. Had the clatter of the dishes being washed in the back kitchen not rung their ears, she would have thought she grew suddenly deaf.

“I didn’t mean it… sorry, I’ll stop,” she mumbled slowly and pressed her fingers to her mouth while shaking her head at her stupid behaviour. That was it, this was to be the last afternoon she would ever hang out with Henry and right now, she couldn’t even bring herself to look at him.

Henry chewed onto the inside of his cheeks, trying to stop the words that came faster than his thoughts.

“You didn’t?... Because I’ll definitely be up for proving...”

She blinked at his words and tilted her head, hoping that he won’t notice the wild tremors that shook her limbs, “What was that?”

“I... yes? No?...I… fuck!”

Henry lowered his head and slapped his palms across his face, rubbing back and forth with an utter meltdown while mumbling, “Forgive me,” a couple of times. He couldn’t care less of what the waitresses or whoever was watching would think of him; all he cared about was to make her feel comfortable around him again and maybe… even make her like him?

“Henry?”

Soft and warm her voice called to him, slowly pulling him from his anguish like a sailor being rescued from a sunken ship. His blue sapphires shone, an ocean of confusion and anxiety still pooling within while he peered back at her face that was now smiling at him a mixture of comfort and exhilaration.

“Would you like some of my milkshake?”

#henry cavill #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fanfiction

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bestdadkars · 4 years ago

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jojos getting shots

this is solely because i got my first dose of the vaccine and usually hate shots but i didn’t die this time so

cw: needles/injections

jonathan

he’s probably a little nervous because he hates the swelling feeling that comes with it, but overall he’s one of the better joestars to have to get any shots

probably asks erina to at least sit in while he gets them, but if he’s getting multiple injections he’s holding onto her hand pretty tight

will be a bit upset if he doesn’t get a paw patrol bandaid afterwards at the very least, but if there’s a little bowl of candy he’s taking a handful for himself and erina to enjoy later

joseph

joseph sees himself as such a tough guy but i feel like this is something he’s at least vaguely afraid of

on the way to the appointment all he talks about is how he’s never been afraid of going to the doctor or anything like that, but it’s really just him trying to psych himself up

keeps a relatively straight face on during the appointment, but the moment he leaves you can bet he’s going to cry and complain to caesar and lisa lisa

jotaro

he’s the second best joestar to gives shots to because he has little to no reaction, but at the same time it’s a little unnerving because of that

his discomfort only shows in the way his face might scrunch up by a nanometer, but other than that he keeps a major poker face on the whole time

internally he’s more nervous than he lets on, and holly is naturally going to pick up on it and comfort him through it. normally he’d put on his standoffish facade to her, but this time he just lets it happen

he will request a dolphin bandaid. i don’t make the rules

josuke

i feel like josuke would be a lot like my usual reactions to shots, which is freaking out a bit too much, and shedding a few a lot tears

either tomoko has to give her hand to him or another nurse will have to hold it because once josuke sees the needle come out he’s ten times more likely to burst into tears (like i do ;-;)

he knows that logically the shots don’t hurt that much, but he can’t help getting anxious over them

once the appointment is over and he’s calmed down some more, he’ll probably go out to get ice cream with okuyasu and koichi

giorno

relatively similar to jotaro in the sense that he’s not very reactive to getting any shots, but you’ll still see him wince a bit when it’s happening

has virtually no preference for what bandaid he wants, but won’t say anything if the only bandaid they have is covered in unicorns (he secretly likes it but he’ll only allow himself to know it)

probably doesn’t go out for anything to treat himself afterwards like josuke or jonathan, but he’s careful to work his arm a little bit so it doesn’t get too sore

jolyne

closest to being like joseph in trying to hype herself up and saying she’s not afraid of shots, but the way she keeps messing with her hands and eyes darting around the doctor’s office tell a different story

hermes is gonna hold jolyne’s hand because she’s too stubborn to ask her even though she really really wants her to. hermes’ has to be prepared for a bit of pain though, because jolyne’s gonna squeeze the shit out of her hand when the needle gets close

definitely going to ask for some candy or a couple stickers afterwards to feel better (just don’t let her take the whole roll)

johnny

johnny is definitely going to be the most difficult one to get anywhere near a doctor’s office (considering how he was treated in the hospital it’s easy to see why he hates having to go)

gyro will hold his hand the entire time because he’s beyond anxious just at the thought of having to schedule an appointment, and it’s even worse if he has to do it over the phone

gyro isn’t really the best at comforting people, but he has a whole catalog of shitty jokes to run through to distract johnny

does he basically bruise gyro’s hands during the appointment?? yes. does he sulk in the passenger seat going back home?? also yes because the only thing worthwhile he got from the doctor was his mlp bandaid

gappy

i feel like gappy’s reaction depends more on the kind of shot he’s getting versus the idea of it in general, like anything with a smaller needle vs the flu shot (that shit hurted)

naturally he’s still on the reluctant side, but if he has to get them he’d much rather get it over with sooner than later. i think he’s also the kind to fidget a lot while waiting; he’s not necessarily scared, but gets some nervous energy that he’s gotta shake out

gappy is ten times more fixated on those repurposed gumball machines with the weird little toys than he is about the idea of stealing the whole role of stickers or the entire bowl of month old lollipops

that being said he will spend all his change on that machine yasuho has to get him out as fast as she can

#im too familiar with gappy's character so i hope this isn't bad #needles #tw needles #jjba #jonathan joestar #joseph joestar #jotaro kujo #josuke higashikata #giorno giovanna #jolyne kujo #johnny joestar #gappy higashikata #my writings #this is some crack shit right here ok #sfw canons

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megahologram · 4 years ago

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Jealousy| John Ambrose

A/N: I wrote this only because I loved that piano scene and my boy John deserved way better.

Warning(s): strong language, kissing (if that counts as a warning)

°•○��○•°

You watched them talk from a distance, putting away the dried-out plants in the useless pile, you signed in defeat. Lara was your best friend, you, her and Josh grew up together, the three of you were the ultimate trio. You loved her with all your heart but at that moment, you couldn’t help yourself to stop the fire of jealously that rose in your chest. Or that could’ve just been the tacos you ate for lunch.

You had never told Lara about the mini crush you had on John. To be completely honest, you had almost forgotten about him. Almost gotten over him but after seeing him for the first time in years in Belleview, all those feelings came back. If it was even possible, he had gotten more charming over the years. Every interaction you had with him after that day screamed you to get away. The devil, or angel, you couldn’t figure out who, but one of them always screamed to end your feelings, that in the end, he was just going to break your heart…like everyone else. These voices started after the first day of interacting with him. When Lara feel down by the mini gumballs, he came to help her up. He seemed to remember her but when it came to you, his words, which are glued in your brain, “and you are?” It wasn’t that he was being rude, in fact he tried to say it in the sweetest way he possibly could, with that signature smile on his face, it turned to shock in seconds when you told him your name. Thankfully he did remember you.

Your eyes were still glued to them, seeing their interaction as he walked over to grab an envelope, ‘must have been Lara Jean’s love letter’ you thought as he placed it in her hands. Lara took the letter from his hands, walking out as you saw John smiling.

“um a little help please” you said quietly. John turned his head, facing you as he quickly nodded his head, “yeah sorry” he added, making his way over to grab more of the plants that had died.

It had been a few minutes of you two working quietly, Lara had still not gotten back and to be honest, you weren’t the best conversation starter. “so y/n” John started, carrying a few boxes and placing it in the donation pile.

“yes John”

Though you didn’t notice, he blushed slightly, hearing you say his name. Letting out a light cough, he continued, “your very different then when I last remember you”

“really…how so?” you asked, turning to face him.

“well for one, your gorgeous” he answered, smiling lightly. You playfully shoved him, both of you laughing in the process, “I’m serious, you are seriously stunning, like y-you have always been stunning but now looking at you, you’ve gotten even more stunning…”

Blushing at his words, you chuckled when you noticed he couldn’t stop blabbering. “I think we should get some work done,” you said as he nodded, agreeing with you. “and then you can tell me how stunning I am” you teased as he threw a dirty rag at you.

A few weeks volunteering, you had grew closer to John. Though you would always feel overshadowed by Lara. There were times when it felt as if he’d forget you were in the same room when she was around. You signed as you looked around the party you were in. You were standing by the corner of the room, Chris was by the stairs with Trevor, Lara was talking to Lucas and you didn’t feel like intruding. Chris had forced you to come to the party, otherwise you would’ve been in your comfy bed, watching your favourite show.

A few minutes passed when you noticed Lara finally leaving Lucas’s side. Giving you the opportunity to finally go over and find someone to talk to. Don’t get me wrong, you and Lara were best friends, but sometimes you knew when she needed her own space.

“hey Lucas” you smiled as you leaned against the counter, mimicking him.

“hey girl” he replies, turning his head to the side to face you. “what’s up? How come you didn’t join us?”

You knew what he was talking about, you smile lightly faded and you forced it upon yourself, in hopes that he wouldn’t have noticed. But you were wrong. “I guess I just..didn’t wanna intrude” you whisper so only he would hear. Though the music in the background made it slightly difficult.

Lucas rolled his eyes, “didn’t wanna intrude, seriously?”

You stayed quite, “okay, spill” he says firmly, making you turn your head to face him. About to question, you knew if you could tell anyone about your problem, it was Lucas.

Letting out a breathe you didn’t realize you were holding, you start talking, “I like John”

Lucas raises an eyebrow, “John?” he questions.

“John Ambrose McClaren” you finished.

Lucas chokes on the ice cream sandwich he was eating. “you like McClaren” he gasps dramatically.

It was your turn to roll your eyes. “yes I like him. I always did since middle school.”

“Does Lara Jean know?”

“no, I never told her.” You start playing with your hands, unable to continue the conversation.

“why not, if you liked him since middle scho-”

“I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. She and Gen broke off cause of a boy and I didn’t want the same thing to happen to us, so I never told her.”

“And you think she won’t find out”

You completely ignore his statement and continue rambling, “you know, sometimes when it’s just me and him, he makes me feel like I’m the most beautiful girl he knows. And then when Lara comes along, it’s like he forgot I even existed. I don’t want to hate her, I really don’t but he makes it so difficult every time I see him with her. I wish he talked to me the way he talks to her. I wish he would see me the way I see him.”

You place your head on the counter in defeat. You feel Lucas hand on your shoulder, rubbing it in comfort. “I’m sorry, I really don’t know what to tell you. All I know is, you’ve got to tell Lara the truth. Before she finds out another way”

You nod your head, knowing he was right. “too late” you hear a faint whisper, causing both you and Lucas to turn around. You see Lara standing there, shook. She turns her heal, jogging her way to the door.

“Lara please just listen to me” you shout, following her track.

“Listen to what, how you lied to me. All these years you lied to me.” Lara tried to turn back but you didn’t let her, “I didn’t want to lose you. Especially not over a boy. He wasn’t as nearly as important to me then our friendship”

You notice Lara let out a tear with your words. “You know I would’ve never been angry, I wouldn’t have ever let our friendship go over a reason like that.”

You nodded your head, feeling ashamed you lied to your friend all these years. “do you still like him?” she asks, to which you simply nod your head. “do you?” you ask.

The question causes her to look up at you instantly. “no, of course not. I love Peter”

“Whose ever idea it was to invite everyone to dig up the time capsule, is-“ your voice trailed off as Lara gave you a death glare, to which you immediately changed your answer, “is a genius, I mean everyone back after years right?”

“I have to agree, get idea Lara Jean” John comments, smiling at her.

You frowned as your gaze fell on Peter also carried the same jealous expression as you. Not even two minutes later, everyone including Gen had shown up. You all were now sitting in the treehouse, in a circle, opening the time capsule. One by one, everyone started collecting their items they put in the capsule. Chris finally took out a little black book and your eyes turned to horror as you jogged to grab it. Placing your head in your hands, you cringed at your younger self. “what is it?” Lara questioned.

“it’s a little book of poems I used to write”

Everyone laughed as you started reading some in your head, “that’s really cute” John says.

You smile, blushing at his words. You lift your gaze up and your heart shatters, realizing he wasn’t talking to you but Lara. Guess you were too lost in your book that you didn’t hear the conversation that was talking place. Unable to top the tears that built up in your eyes, you decided that was your cue to leave.

Quickly wiping your eyes before anyone noticed, which failed because Gen had her eyes focused on you. You stood up, grabbing your belongings and quickly making your way down.

“y/n, where’re you going?” John asks as you started making your way down the stairs.

“leaving” you reply quietly, as you hear a few other people agreeing with you, stating it was their time to leave as well.

You started speed walking to your car, mentally noting that Lara could go with Peter and you really couldn’t stay another minute with John in the same room. The tears that you had wiped off started coming back, and all you could do was continue to wipe them off.

“y/n wait, just stop” John cries behind you. The voice only caused your feet to stride faster.

Just a few steps away from your car, you were stopped by a gentle touch on your wrist. Knowing who it was, you didn’t want to turn around or let him see you cry. Wiping the tears with your other hand, you turned around aggressively, which seemed to surprise him. Probably because you have never been that aggressive with anyone, especially not towards him.

But the anger and hurt that you felt all these weeks, just started building up and today was your breaking point. “are you okay?” he asks with hesitation in his voice, trying to gather the right words.

“no John, I’m not okay. And right now I just need you to leave me alone” You had never meant to shout but him constantly trying to get you to talk was getting on your nerves.

“I don’t understand what the problem is. I mean did I do something wrong, cause everything was fine a few minutes ago.”

You cursed in your head at how oblivious he is. Why can’t he see the undeniable feeling of jealousy you have right now.

“yes, its you, okay. You’re the problem, you’ve always been the problem. And I try so hard to ignore it but you make it so goddamn difficult. Just leave me alone” and with that, you hop in your car, driving off. Leaving John just standing there, incredibly confused.

The next day, you were supposed to volunteer at Belleview and as much as you didn’t want to go, especially since Lara wasn’t coming today. You forced yourself to go. You were in the basement, clearing up the last junk you had found. It was peaceful but was blessed by the beautiful sound of a piano. Signing loudly, you knew who was playing it.

A few moments of war just inside your head, whether or not you should go there, you decided you had to.

Making your way quietly towards the sound, you stood behind him, his back was facing you as he sat on the stool, his fingers carefully falling on the keys perfectly. You just stood there and admired him when he seemed to acknowledge your presence, his fingers continued to play as he spoke his next words, “you have quiet the ability to remain sneakily silent”

“I didn’t know you still played” you answer.

“I never stopped” he whispers, turning his head, signalling you to sit beside him. Carefully making your way, you sat beside him as he moved slightly, giving you space.

“I used to love playing” you say, remembering how much fun you had playing the piano.

“why did you stop” he asks, your gaze falling to his hands, that never stopped hitting the keys.

You opened your mouth, with a little hesitation though continued, “I guess after you left, my passion for playing left too. You were kind of my inspiration”

He smiled, blushing slightly as he gently grabbed your hands. Guiding to a few keys, he showed which keys to play. In a matter of seconds, you started playing the notes he taught you, following your pace as he started playing as well.

“remember in middle school. At lunch, we used to hang around the music room and I would show you how to play”

You laughed, “of course I remember. You were the only reason I started playing in the first place.”

He smiled facing you as you stared back, your heartbeat raising just by the look he gave you. “I’m sorry” You confess, your gaze returning to the fingers that played on the keys of the piano.

“for what, exactly?” John absently asks, pushing the keys of the piano. The sound echoing through the room.

“for shouting at you yesterday. I let my emotions get the best of me.” You admit, flustered as you thought back to your behaviour the previous day.

Meeting your gaze, he lets out a sign as he stopped playing. “I’m not going to lie, it hurt.” His hands fell on his lap, while his gaze dropped to the keys in front of him. “But most of all, I don’t understand what I did wrong?”

You closed your eyes, letting out a breath as you replayed the scene over your head. You let your jealously get the best of you, causing you to react in a way. You were unsure how you were going to explain that to John.

“I got jealous” you whisper in hopes he didn’t hear you.

“Jealous of what?” You watched his eyebrows furrow in confusion. Surely this was going to be new news to him.

Signing once more, your head fell to your lap, playing with your hands as you figure out your next words, “of you and Lara.”

“I’m sorry y/n but I don’t understand why you would be jealous o-“

“I guess I wanted you to act the same way you do around her, to me”

He was silent, and you understood that he still had not figured what you were talking about. “I like you” you express quickly, feeling the huge weight leave your shoulders.

“I like you too, y/n?”

You chuckle in pain as you hear the confusion in his voice. You finally lift your gaze off your lap to his, that were already watching you.

A few seconds, you watched his face turn into realization, “oh-“ he replied, his gaze falling to everything in the room except you.

Considering that as your cue to leave, you got off the stool, turning to leave. Your feet came to a halt as you felt a hand on your wrist. Hearing shuffling behind you, you finally felt his hand leave. His hands fell on your shoulder, turning you around to face him.

Unable to look at him, you looked down in hopes he’d let you go. “look at me” he whispers, “please.”

Your eyes go up, finally landing on his own. ‘If your going to give me a pity excuse and sorry, I really don’t wanna he-“ Your words stop the moment launched his lips onto yours. Your breath hitched in your throat, your brain was unable to process what was happening. And before it got a chance to, he slowly pulled away.

He must have got the wrong interpretation because he was quick to start apologizing, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“ You couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing his collar and placing his lips on yours. You felt him smile into the kiss, his hands slowly trailing their way from your shoulder to your waist, gently pulling you closer to him.

Your own hands travelled towards his neck, wrapping them around as you both pulled yourselves dangerously close, if that was even possible. The kiss was slow and passionate, both your lips moved in sync. You felt your heart racing as his hands slid to your hips, pushing you closer against him. You licked his bottom lip for entrance, to which he gladly accepted. Your fingers played with the hairs on the back of his neck, lightly pulling them, causing him to get out a groan. A sound which you instantly fell in love with.

Though you knew you both would’ve continued, you were forced to stop when you hear a cough coming from beside you. Both you and John pulled away instantly. Both of you started fixing yourself, trying to look as presentable as possible as you turned to see who had interrupted.

Stormy stood then with the biggest smile on her face. One where she did not even try to hide. “martini anyone.” She asks, laughing as she made her way back upstairs.

“so…you wanna try that again?” John asks, smiling when he notices you blushing.

And with that, he pulled you in for another kiss.

#john ambrose mcclaren #john ambrose imagine #john ambrose x lara jean #john ambrose x reader #netflix #to all the boys ps i still love you spoilers #to all the boys #to all the boys 2 #to all the boys icons #jordan fisher #peter kavinsky #lara jean covey

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delanyb · 5 years ago

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Since I’ve been slacking off with the Fnaf headcanon series for quite some time now, with no good reason, have some AR skins and event character headcanons

Shamrock Freddy

Like Frostbear and Firework Freddy,he’s a Freddy made specifically for the holidays. St. Patrick day to be exact

Has a Irish ascent to go with his holiday theme

Similar to Rockstar Freddy, he desires Faz-coin to a unhealthy degree

Enjoys talking about St. Patrick day traditions and folklore.

Is pretty self-centered

Usually picks on Frostbear for no good reason

All the other animatronics who take part in the Fazbear Funtime Service either are indifferent to him like Chica or 8 Bit Baby. While others like regular Freddy and Bonnie hate him for just being a overall jerk

In some instances when the animatronics are being shipped together in trucks for customers, a Shamrock Freddy always seems to cause some sort of commotion that usually leaves everyone in mangled animatronic parts by the end

The company was actually considering removing him off from the service completely given all the problem he caused

But considering that he makes for great revenue during the St. Patrick day season, they just left him alone for the other animatronics to deal with.

Firework Freddy

Aside from Chica with her cupcake, he’s the only one who comes with a accessory.

Has lots of nicknames, but the most common ones are Firework and just Summer Freddy

All the other animatronics find his firework very cool

Springtrap however does not becuase anything that goes boom gives him flashbacks to when the springlocks snappped back in the saferoom all those years ago...

Is a expert on cooking with a barbecue

Has a lot of knowledge on sport related stuff from all over the world

Hates the cold

However he doesn’t hate Frostbear and feels bad for him becuase of Shamrock Freddy’s constant bullying

Has a lot of extras clothes and extra accessories that correspond with the traditions of the customer(s) that ordered a vist from him

For instance, he may be all decked out for 4th of July one year, and the next you’ll see a bear ready for the beach and so fourth.

Constantly switching his attire for each visit does get a little annoying, but for him, making people happy in the end makes it worth all the hassle.

VR Toy Freddy

Is a completely different entity than regular Toy Freddy

Is the textbook definition of absolute gamer chad

Playing video games takes first priority for him

Recently he’s been playing the newest instalment in the fnamh’s (Five Nights At Mr Hug’s) series

He’s quite clumsy and bumps into other animatronics or common house things likes selves on a daily basis

But on the rare chance he’s not using his headset he’s usually making absurd theorys on what’s going on with the lore in the new Vr game

His main theory is that that this new strange crate looking character escaped from dumper purgatory from the previous game in the series and placed themselves into the in universe VR game.

Shamrock Freddy question why he’s still invested in that series though. As he states, the original trilogy is the best and that it all went downhill once that weird gumball machine used paper plates as a skin suit.

Whenever He or anyone else for that matter says something along the lines of that, VR Toy Freddy always goes into essay long arguments for why he’s wrong. He’s very quick to defend his favourite franchise

Jokes that he’s The Man Behind The Slaugher unironically even when the meme has died ( *In this universe the man behind the slaughter meme exists because of the Fnaf 1 news paper clippings, along with the fact that Springtrap is a well known entity thanks to HW, and the Fazbear Funtime service.*

Chocolate Bonnie

Nicknames are Choco Bonnie, and unfortunately as immature as it, Poop Bonnie

He’s made of real actual chocolate

Once somebody’s dog took a big bite out of his bottom right stomach area that simply couldn’t be repaired. The dog took 87 bites out of him btw

That’s why every single copy of the Chocolate Bonnie model scanned in after that day has that big and distracting hole

His three button and botie are mint candy flavoured

Real Easter eggs are hidden inside his stomach cavity and are placed near his endo parts

Though he’s more appropriate for Easter time, sometime he’s advertised for the Halloween season for that trick or treat goodness

Similar to Bon-Bon and Funtime Freddy , Easter and Chocolate Bonnie are a two in one package.

Given the surprising popularity of the Funtime Service, (*in universe*) a merch store has being set up to only spread word of their brand but to bring these beloved characters in the pop culture consensus again, and Chocolate Bonnie gets a bunch of merch

Whether it be a coffee mug,a shirt, or the type of chocolate bunny you’ll see in those craft stores, Cholocate Bonnie has it all.

Easter Bonnie

Is very dramatic and has a showman like personality. (Similar to Funtime Foxy in UCN)

His Easter egg pattern on his stomach area is actually drawn with crayons and the circles are get plain circle shaped stickers you would find at the your local dollar store. Goes to show that the Fazbear Funtime Service sticks to the roots of Fazbear Entertainment, being really cheep

How Easter and Chocolate Bonnie entertain customers is that Easter Bonnie usually has a “dramatic” retelling of the Easter bunny fairytale while Chocolate Bonnie’s the food, customers can eat while enjoying the play

He’s quite athletic

The “Happy Easter” tag on the top of his ear isn’t actually a intentional design choice

Easter Bonnie just stole it from a random candy store nearby

Some confuse him as a winter themed Bonnie covered in snow due to his mainly white colour palette. Considering that Freddy Frostbear’s a thing that isn’t that much of a stretch

Can perfectly imitate any of the other animatronic’s voices. It honestly shocks animatronics like Springtrap or Foxy with how well Easter Bonnie can capture this respective accents to a tee

He prefers to hop like a actual bunny than walking normally

Loves decorating Easter eggs.

Toxic Springtrap

All that purple goo is actually just fungi infected with some of that classic remnant

Due to his frightening nature he’s only available during Halloween time

However despite his looks he’s actually quite kind at heart. Much more than regular Springtrap that’s for sure

Is actually scared of the dark

He likes playing chess

Doesn’t like the fact that he’s advertised as something to be feared

Usually hangs around with 8-Bit Baby the most and the two usually play board games all day

Although like everyone else he feels some sort of discomfort whenever he’s shocked, the pain is really minor for him compared to other animatronics

Given that he’s only desired during the month of spooks, for the rest of the year, he’s left alone at the factory where all the animatronics are constructed and duplicated in the first place

Due to this he’s got a pleta of abandonment isssues

System Error Toy Bonnie

His head, body and limbs can be detached and put back together very easily

That’s how he entertains customers in fact. He’s basically a animatronic sized construction set, similar to Mangle

Their eyes glow bright orange in darkness

Is able to phaze through physical objects

Due to some people complaining about regular Toy Bonnie’s voicebox, the team chose to implant stock computer sound effects into System Error Toy Bonnie’s voicebox rather than actual dialogue.

Knows your WiFi password

Is taller than regular Toy Bonnie

The system error phrase near his stomach area gets brighter amd brighter whenever his costume shell is damaged

Static electricity flows through him from time to time. So it recommend that whenever a customer should wear gloves and other appropriate safety equipment when interacting with the animatronic

Balloon Boy always tries to get the static electricity balloon trick to work, but it never seems to work. System Error Toy Bonnie could really care less about this ordeal though

Highscore Toy Chica

Loves playing video games

But unlike Vr Toy Freddy, Her life doesn’t focus on it 24/7

She likes playing a variety of games too. virtual games, handheld games, games on consoles, board games, etc

Is very supportive

Knows what emojis are

Considering that she’s meant to be hip with the kids, she knows a lot about current gaming and fandom culture in general

Is a pretty good speed runner when it comes to video games

Although it doesn’t happen often she can get quite serious when it comes to gaming. You can tell when she’s just playing for fun or not if her endoskeleton eyes and grey are exposed

is indifferent to the term “Gamer Girl”

Hates games where you can’t skip the cutscenes

Radioactive Foxy

A random model of Foxy accidentally found his way into a power plant and eventually got covered in radioactive goo

The higher ups working for the Fazbear Funtime service thought that it would be a shame to throw out a perfectly good plush suit and endo. So after some strange testing involving remnant they just rebranded this as a completely new skin.

Green radioactive material drips over his body all all times

His hook is twice as big as regular Foxy’s. Probably due to the combination of experimenting with both remnant and toxic radioactive goo

Has no eyebrows due to the constant radioactive energy

Thanks to Radioactive Foxy’s transparent look, this was the first time any of the customers got a real good look on the inerworkings on how a endo properly fits into a plush suit.

Is on the hunt for and wants to consume more radioactive energy

Can transform into a more liquid based form

He’s slower than regular foxy but sill runs at a moderately fast pace

One of the more aggressive animatronics in the service alongside the likes of regular Springtrap and Frostbear

8-Bit Baby

Similar to Highscore Toy Chica, she’s meant to be marketed to the gaming crowd.

Specifically those who enjoy old school videogames

Can despense real cupcakes for eating pleasure

Has a extra sprinkler perfect for ice cream decorating

Her fan operates correctly and henceforth can be used for cooling or drying needs

Her microphone is preprogrammed with chiptune styled music

Has become many people’s favourite animatronic and has been in high demand ever since they were first brought to the service due to their uniqueness

Moves at a snail’s pace

Loves playing board games with Toxic Springtrap.

Regualr Circus Baby finds her 8 bit version adorable

#finally it's done #also pls don’t kill me for including Firework Freddy #fnaf #fnaf ar #fnaf ar special delivery #fnaf headcanons #shamrock freddy #firework freddy #vr toy freddy #chocolate bonnie #easter bonnie #toxic springtrap #system error toy bonnie #highscore toy chica #radioactive foxy #8 bit baby #my art uwu #long post

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ducktracy · 5 years ago

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153. pigs is pigs (1937)

release date: january 30th, 1937

series: merrie melodies

director: friz freleng

starring: martha wentworth (mrs. hamhock), berneice hansell (piggy, children), billy bletcher (mad scientist)

one of friz’s most iconic cartoons during this time period, and the first to debut his favorite “hold the onions!” gag. also the second (and final) appearance of piggy hamhock and co. all disobedient piggy wants to do is sit inside and eat all day, and it seems his dream comes true—but when a mad scientist gets involved, his appetite is quickly ruined.

an underscore of “when my dream boat comes home” opens the cartoon, a score that would be occasionally used by stalling (featured prominently in porky’s badtime story and later tick tock tuckered). in the quaint countryside resides a warm, happy home, a family of pigs dancing in circles and laughing. everyone is happy and content—except for one. piggy hamhock strolls around the yard, with visions of hotdogs (questionable for a pig), turkeys, pies, corn, and watermelons dance in his head, sighing cravingly. he parks himself on a bench just outside the house, licking his lips as he imagines the food he can’t have.

just then, fortune strikes. mrs. hamhock dotingly places two pies on the open windowsill to cool, and, of course, the fresh, inviting fumes waft straight into piggy’s trajectory. such a lovely detail as piggy’s eyes grow wider and wider with each eager sniff—food! even better is the animation as he snags one of the pies from the windowsill, spins it around on his finger, and devours the edges as it spins around, reducing it to nothing, popping the “core” of the pie in his mouth last. piggy reaches for the other pie, preparing to dive in, but finds himself feasting on pork instead as he bites his own hands, the pie snagged out of his grip from an offscreen mrs. hamhock.

mrs. hamhock is devastated, lecturing “my nice, fresh pies! look what you have done to them! and i’ve worked so hard all day over a hot stove. can’t you wait until dinner?” while mrs. hamhock goes on and on, piggy’s mind wanders to the imaginary meal once more, completely drowning out his mother’s words.

to quote billy bletcher from porky’s romance, time munches on and mrs. hamhock rings the telltale dinner bell, summoning her children to eat (with an underscore of “puppchen” as mrs. hamhock’s theme). the children frolicking in the yard happily flock to the house. piggy also catches wind of the dinner bell, and barrels over his siblings in the process as he rushes to be the first inside. mrs. hamhock braces herself against the draft left behind from piggy’s speed.

eager to get a headstart, piggy licks his lips and rubs his hands together, reaching into the fruit bowl on the table, but is quickly smacked by his mother, glaring daggers at him as she positions herself at the table. the rest of the hamhocks pour into the dining room. with that, mrs. hamhock instructs her children to say grace. a hilarious decision on friz’s part to have a cacophony of dissonant mumbling as everyone incomprehensibly says grace, with a rolling pan sweeping down the table. the pan stops at piggy, who audibly asks “and please, could we have lots of ice cream tonight?”

suddenly, an idea hatches. before each little piglet is a bowl of noodles just waiting to be devoured. piggy grabs one of his noodles and a noodle from the plate next to him and ties it together. he slips under the table (good decision with the lighting!) and makes his rounds from each plate, trying together every noodle he sees into one interminable rope. every noodle covered, piggy leaps back into his seat, innocently giving an “amen!”

“und now, commence!” with mrs. hamhock’s permission, piggy stuffs a wad of noodles in his mouth. i just love the animation of him sucking his face in to slurp up the noodles, it’s certainly tactile and you can just feel the breathless effort he’s exerting. all according to plan as the hamhocks ogle at their magically disappearing noodles. mrs. hamhock takes notice and scolds piggy, warning him that this is the straw that broke the camel’s “hümp”. piggy’s face is priceless as he stares at his mother, mouth agape, noodles still suspended in his open mouth. he tunes out his mother’s lecture, head in hand as he shoots angry side glances at his mother.

night must fall, and all of the hamhock children are asleep. that is, with one exception. a certain hungry piggy still fantasizes about his hearty hors d'oeuvres, various foods surrounding him. as piggy sighs longingly, his surroundings melt around him, and instead of in his bed he’s perched on a wooden bench outside of a cottage. there’s a large, green door just outside to match the ivy creeping up on the exterior. piggy wanders around, spellbound, when the door opens to reveal a strange, balding, yellow man with rubber gloves who urges him to come on. as i’ll discuss soon, simpsons creator matt groening as expressed his love for this cartoon. yellow skin... hmmmmmm. 🤔

the scientist ushers piggy along in his cottage, which is revealed to be a laboratory. a tasteful array of beakers and solutions overlay the scene as piggy makes his way in—ulcer tablets, gastritis pills, neon coils... the scientist hiccups as he croons to piggy, “hungry, my little man? have some nice pies, cakes, ice cream, pickles...” i love the extraneous “pickles” to juxtapose with the other sweet, enticing desserts.

an enraptured piggy dashed up to a table stocked to the brim with all the food he could imagine. a bottle in the foreground reads “VOD”, the rest of the lettering torn off. a vodka gag slipped under the hayes office! piggy’s delight shines brighter as the scientist urges him to help himself, offering him a seat in a large, floral, cushioned seat. piggy obliges, but suddenly grows anxious when the scientist shoved the table away. the floral covering on the chair is pulled away to reveal a metal chair, strapping piggy in with a belt and prying his snout open.

also, an interesting note—there’s a smear in this scene as the scientist whips away to grin at piggy. chuck jones defined what a smear was with the dover boys at pimento university, and thusly they became much more popularized after, but it’s so interesting to see little breakout attempts. of course you have dry brushing as well, but i believe this is the first true “smear”, so to speak, that we’ve seen. i’m sure you know already, but if you don’t: smears are physical distortions of the body to convey a sense of movement and urgency. by spreading the entire body across a frame, it conveys a faster, less convoluted sense of movement, and also saves costs and drawings. there is a reason behind them, and yes, animators were paid to draw them, they knew what they were doing, as opposed to all those posts ridiculing animators and being like “why would they draw this 😂😂😂😂”. simple stuff, but there are people out there who believe otherwise.

now the villain launches into the trademark Billy Bletcher Bellow®️, reassuring piggy that he’ll get plenty of food. there’s an intriguing, almost tashlin-esque camera angle as a trap door opens beneath the floor, piggy’s chair toting him down below into the scientist’s lab. another tilted, warped angle as the scientist rushes to his post, a separate landing with a big, metal machine positioned on it. i love the subtle tilt of the angle, it really conveys how warped the scene is and how askew the mood is. things aren’t right, and piggy is actively aware of this. “so,” the villain coos, “you love food, eh?” another villainous laugh as he goes wild on all the levers and buttons and contraptions on his big metal machine.

i bet you if this was made just 6 years later, powerhouse would have been the underscore for this scene. porky pig’s feat gets the honor of the first cartoon to debut the iconic raymond scott score. an assortment of canned soups churn down an assembly line, pouring into one giant bowl. piggy is force fed the disgusting, purple amalgamation of soups as a wheel of spoons paddle it down his throat like a waterwheel. the chair then moves beneath a banana peeling station, mechanical arms sliding bananas into piggy’s gullet. the mad scientist observes in evil glee, laughing at the misfortune he has created.

a clever gag of a gumball machine spitting olives into piggy’s mouth as a mechanical hand feeds pennies into the slot. next, as displayed on this cartoon’s lobby card, a bellows pushes a number of ice cream cones down piggy’s throat. this entire sequence serves as the inspiration behind a number of cartoons. it served as a foundation for dick lundy’s apple andy at walter lantz in 1946. yet perhaps it is most well known as serving as the basis for a scene in the simpsons episode treehouse of horror iv, where homer sits in the same chair piggy sits in, being force fed donuts—and of course enjoying it, the scene much more comical than portrayed here. so, good on friz!

the next torturous piece of food spawns friz freleng’s favorite “hold the onions!” gag. mechanical arms prepare a giant sandwich, the bread suspended by hooks. peppers and mustard garnish the spliced open hotdog (again adding to the morbid nature of the scene—being force fed your own kin!). just as a bowl of onions prepares to topple over, a robotic arm juts out a sign that reads HOLD THE ONIONS!

phil monroe is responsible for the gag. later on, he’d tell michael barrier “for instance, i first worked for friz in the middle '30s, and he had this one picture, i forget what the name of it is, but it was a mechanical machine that made a sandwich; the old cartoons used to do that all the time, use a gag like that. it was a rube goldberg machine that made a sandwich. i stuck in the gag ‘hold the onions’—a sign comes out and stops the machine and says, ‘hold the onions.’ well, the only thing you remember about that cartoon is that one gag. he used that damned thing for years.” he most certainly DID use that damned thing for years, featured in (but not limited to) cartoons such as jungle jitters, the fighting 69th 1/2, the gay anties, and used by other directors such as jones, mckimson, and tashlin. the gag even managed to creep across studios, appearing in the 1951 tom and jerry short his mouse friday. thank you, phil!

piggy is then force fed the giant sandwich, attacking it like a lawn mower in neat rows, the chair reversing and accelerating as he eats. next spawns the “PIE-A-TROPE”, piggy devouring rapidly spinning pies from the outside in, just like how he was doing beforehand, spinning the pie on his finger and eating the outside.

more tashlin-esque camera angles as we get a series of overlayed and reused footage, underscored by the maniacal laughter of the scientist. eventually, we find the end result: piggy is full to bursting in his chair, the scientist poking him with twisted glee. “have enough, my boy?” piggy stammers (another friz freleng stuttering pig!) “y-y-yessir!” the scientist frees piggy from his restraints, insisting he’s not half full. hilarious animation as the rotund piggy waddles across the room and past a buffet table.

just then, a delicious turkey leg catches his attention. piggy can’t resist. i just absolutely love this—the whole time, he’s been tortured, force fed, what have you, the mood so dark and twisted and askew. piggy had been visibly upset and anxious the entire time, and now here he is helping himself VOLUNTARILY with a hungry grin on his face! what a great detail. piggy devours the turkey leg, and promptly explodes.

fade out to piggy screaming, lumps underneath his blanket writhing as he pops his head out, unscathed, his normal self in his own normal bed in his own normal home. he collects himself, breathing a sigh of sweet relief and wiping his brow. mrs. hamhock’s voice calls from downstairs “wake up, sonny! it’s time for breakfast!” (which i believe in hindsight is reused from toy town hall)

piggy demonstrates that he has dutifully learned a solemn lesson as he rushes downstairs and gorges himself in breakfast, devouring as fast as he can and displaying no table manners whatsoever. iris out.

one of friz’s first classics, and rightfully so. it’s a great cartoon with drastic changes in mood. the cartoon starts and ends in the same notion: lightheartedly. this cartoon reminds me a lot of baby bottleneck in terms of notoriety, both famous for their “factory” scenes, if you will, and serving as a foundation for a number of references. i adore how moody this cartoon is, and how stark the contrast is. you have the lighthearted sympathy of watching piggy lust over food, getting scolded by his mother, and then you’re diving head first into such a twisted, morbid torture scene where you as the audience member also feel captive. and then, in true looney fashion, piggy demonstrates that he learned absolutely nothing whatsoever from his nightmare and is tickled pink with his gluttony. the animation is great, and the colors and backgrounds are beautiful and inviting. you absolutely need to watch this one! if anything, do it for historical significance. first “hold the onions” gag, and it was referenced by the simpsons! go watch it!

link!

#lt #pigs is pigs #reviews #looney tunes #long post #freleng

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gasstationshane · 4 years ago

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Tales From The DishWasher, Part 1

In a small town, on the north end of main street, on the same side as the dollar store and local ice cream shop, there's a restaurant that is one of the more popular dine in places in town. On the front side, there's a large sign made out of an maroon awning that shades the outdoor tables and chairs for those that want to eat outside or smoke.

On the back side, there's a sign painted on a metal maroon wall with the restaurants name. There's also a lable on the side of the walls that tell you if the doors are for the kitchen or the entrance. If you were to walk in from the back entrance you might wanna make sure your not walking in through the kitchen door. We've had an array of customers that walked in and ended up with a bag of trash falling onto them. One guy even tried suing us because salsa got on his brand new white jeans. Look, even if he didn't see the sign, the door is obviously a kitchen door.

Now if you walked into the actual back entrance, you'd see a small array of arcade machines that were more then likely made in the 90's. The audio from the games faded from years of dust and play time.There's also a small stand of gumball and candy machines, one of the ones where you can get a temporary tattoo for 50 cents each.

A few footsteps and a turn to the right, you'd see the vast open area. Booths to the immediate right and left, a bar on the slightly farther left, tables all scattered around with more booths on the right and left against the walls.

The kitchen area, which would be left at the arcade machines, has a few different sections. The left of where you walk in is the front line cooks area, a grill, friar and a freezer along the front and back as well as countertops with storage cabinets for lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, and other toppings or side foods.

On the right of the entrance is the dishwashers station. A shelf and carts for the servers to sit the dirty dishes on, and a big sink with a sprayer and a few different soap options on the wall. There's of course, the washing machine that's usually used just for sanitation purposes.

Behind the dishwasher station is the shelves where the majority of the dishes that aren't plates or bowls are kept. Most of the kitchen employees keep their stuff there so it's out of the way. And finally, behind the front line cooks, are the back line cooks area as well as the walk in cooler and freezer.

In the dishwasher area is where I work. I spend most of my shifts there and only leaving to put away dishes or use the bathroom or even get a drink. Not everything's normal here though, most of the eventful things happening at night when it's just me and whoever is the main cook that night, and the closing bartender.

We've dealt with a pack of stray dogs that live in the old car wash station across from the dumpster. Their friendly though thankfully, begging me for pets and belly rubs after every shift as well as treats. All of them are a mixed breed between a husky and a wolf. I've taken the liberty of naming them all.

There's Yogi, the big grey and brown male who got his name from how much he looks like a bear. Luna, a blue-ish grey and white one, who got her name from the moon shaped crescent spot on her back. Waffle, a all black one with blue eyes, who got his name by sniffing out the waffle's in my bag one day. Then there's Crash, who's red orange-ish fur makes him look similar to the famous video game character.

There's a few pups too that I haven't named yet because I haven't had time to witness their personalities. Luna, the assumed to be mother of the pups, keeps them in the old storage room of the car wash. I've re done the storage room a bit to give them a bed and a few other things to help her take care of them.

I'm thankful that no animal control or pound people have taken them yet. If they tried, I wouldn't hesitate to take them home to keep them safe. The only reason I'm not taking them home now is because they are used to this place and I don't wanna make them uncomfortable. But believe me, the moment I feel like they are danger whether it be animal control, or them needing a vet visit, they'd be in my custody in no time.

And then there's the mysterious bar truck driver, a trucker who is always at the bar, no matter how early we open. The only time he's not there is when we're closed. He's always wearing a hat, flannel, and some form of camo. He drinks so many combinations of alcohol during his visits, it's a miracle he never passes out or hadn't died of alcohol poisoning. He knows all the words to all the songs on the digital bluetooth jukebox. If you ask him, he'll stop drinking long enough to sing a long to a full song of your choice if you buy him a drink.

And then there's the mysterious puddle of water surrounding the water softener and the pump. The puddle almost always fills the area where the tile is broken. No matter what we do, the puddle never goes away, and is a murky grey color. Sometimes it won't be as much water, but we could be closed for a week and the puddle will still be there. It doesn't help that some water that sprays off from the sink or gets spilled can add to the puddle.

I guess what I'm saying is, weird things happen at the patio restaurant in town. Mostly at night. Weird stuff has been happening even before I started working there. I remember a week before my first shift, there was an incident where all the liquors and vodkas to make mixed drinks were stolen, broken, or empty, as well as ate a whole gallon of ice cream. The whole situation could have easily been blamed on one of the bartenders or other employees at the time, but they were closed that day.

T-Dog, the main front line cook that I close with most of the time, thinks that the bar trucker pick pocketed the key and the security alarm code when we closed early one night. That would make sense, since they closed early the night before and he could've needed to make up for a days loss worth of drinks.

If you ask him, T-Dog always has a somewhat reasonable explanation to any weird thing that happens there. "That puddle isn't mysterious.." He told me after I had accidentally stepped in it again and almost fell over.

"The water softener is leaking, but since we run water so much with the sinks, washers, and bathrooms, the leak doesn't have a big impact. You think the owners would fix this shit, but since it's not causing any problems, they ain't touching it just to save them some fucking money." I always made an effort to hear out his explanations. They may or may not be true but it's way better than my theory about the bar trucker peeing on the broken tile. But my theory would explain the weird smell that happens over there, no matter how much we clean over there.

T-Dog isn't the only cook I close with. Some nights it's Danny, or Jack. Jack tends to ignore the weird things happening here. But he's also the cook that doesn't make me do everything I need to do before giving me the okay to leave.

And I know he doesn't do it because Tobias, Toby for short, is the opening cook in the mornings has told me multiple times whenever something doesn't get done. I see Toby once a week when I actually work a morning shift. He's one of the not so serious cooks, and jokes around every now and then. There was one time where acted like he was gonna knock over my drink.

What's kinda funny, about Toby being the not so serious guy around here, he doesn't believe any of the weird things that I've told him about. He thinks it's rumours to get more customers in.

"Shane, that bar trucker is only here for entertainment purposes. We don't have a stage so he just sits and takes his drinks at night to keep the drunks entertained." He explained. Well.. There was one night that Toby closed for the first time. He learned the hard way that the weird things really do happen here that night.

It was around ten thirty, and we were working on finishing our stuff up for the night when we heard a loud crash come from the cooler. "The fuck was that?" He asked. I shrugged.

"Maybe Alex is still cleaning his stuff up." I replied. He shook his head.

"No.. I saw Alex leave almost an hour ago. There's something back there." I finished taking care of the next load of dishes that needed to go in the washer, before following Toby to the walk in cooler. He was carrying a broom to defend us incase there was something that could attack us or scare it away.

We opened the door slowly to see, not one, not two, but three possums in the cooler. They were snacking on our most recent batch of precooked fish sticks. They looked up at us like a kid who had just got caught sneaking out. Toby went to swing the broom to get the mammals out of there, but as he did one of then jumped on the shelves, knocking down the large ice paddle.

It smacked into Toby and made him fall back. When he landed, the force of the fall against one of the shelves, causing a case of beer to fall onto him. Glass shattered, making him covered in glass shards, beer, and blood. Most of them in his legs and chest.

"Gah!" He cried out as he went to pulling some of the glass pieces. I rushed to the shelf where we keep the first aid kit, handing it to him but he smacked at out of my hands.

"Call an ambulance Shane! A first aid kit ain't gonna fix this shit." He yelled with a look of frustration on his face. I sighed and went to the area where the phone was and dialed the number for the station. When I had explained the situation, the man on the other end sounded genuinely confused.

"You said a Possum snuck into your walk in cooler, and made a ice paddle fall onto your co worker, which caused a case of beer to break onto him??" She asked to confirm what I said.

"Umm yeah that's what happened."

"But how would a Possum get into the cooler?" Possums usually never bothered with the busier end of town."

"I have no idea, but that's what happened!" She let out a sigh.

"And which restaurant in town was this again?" Now it was my turn to sigh.

"Darbie's Patio on Main Street..."

"Ooh that place!" She said, realizing who she was dealing with.

"Please hold." She said. I assumed she forwarded the call to the department that takes care of our cases. As much weird shit that happens here, the department has given us a specific branch and a officer to take care of us.

"Hello, this officer Mark here. Who is this?" He asked in his professional cop voice. Mark was the officer assigned to us, being close friends with the owners. Him and the owners have probably seen more weird shit than I have my whole life.

"Hey Mark, it's Shane Redfield from Darbies Patio. There was an accident with a few possums in the cooler, and now Toby is covered in glass shards." I briefly explained.

"Hang tight, I'll be there with an ambulance in five minutes or less. If there's any big chucks of glass in him, do not let him take it out. If he bleeds out before he can get to the hospital, that's bad news." I thanked him, hung up the phone and stayed with Toby while we waited. The bartender brought us both a drink. He took a long sip before looking back at me.

"Hey Shane?"

"Yeah?"

"..Does weird shit like this happen all the time...?"

To be... Continued

#tales from the dishwasher #tftgs fan blog #dishwasher shane #darbies patio #shane redfield #shane from darbies

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rainbow600 · 7 years ago

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30 Questions Tag :D

Tagged by @pachimarissa

Rules: Answer the 30 questions and tag 10 people :)

I follow: 92

Number of followers: 658

Average hours of sleep: 6 to 8 I think, or more lol

Lucky number: 23, it’s like everywhere in my family/life lol (I should tell that story maybe lol)

Instruments: I do percussion, but I like/love playing the bass drum lol

What are you wearing: A (big) T-shirt and some shorts

Dream job: Ice Cream Woman (lol, ok, that ones kind of a joke lol). I want to be an animator or do something in art; otherwise a baker/food decorator lol

Dream trip: Either Hawaii, France, or Germany (because it sounds cool lol)

Significant other: I don’t have one right now irl. I kind of don’t want to think about getting into a relationship right now since I broke up with someone not too long ago.

Birthday: July 23 (not giving year, but there’s that number again lol)

Height: 5′ 8″

Gender/pronouns: She/her, pretty much girl pronouns lol

Other blogs: I have an art blog which if anyone is interested you can check here at @rainbow600-art

Nicknames: (i don’t know if I want to list off my real name nicknames, so I’ll give some that don’t use my name/my online nicknames lol) Blue eyes, Savage, Rainbow; and i think that’s all of them, idk lol

Star sign: Leo (ends on 23 lol)

Time: 7:42 PM

Favorite bands: I have a lot of songs/bands I listen too, I don’t really have favorites lol. But I’ll say right now one that I have been liking is Glass Animals, check them out, they cool.

Favorite artist: (I know this is talking about music, but I’m gonna talk about art) I have a lot of favorites and I was almost gonna list some off, but I remembered that recently I found this 3D animator on youtube called FENNAH and I just love their animations and characters. Go and check them out if you’d like.

Song stuck in your head:

Last movie you watched:The Greatest Showman (I loved seeing that movie, it made me cry so much lol)

Last show you watched: I think it was The Amazing World of Gumball, but I’m not sure lol

Why did you make your blog: At the time I made it, I wanted to be able to ask questions to this one ask blog I was really liking, so I made this blog and found out I could do more than just ask questions and that I could of still asked questions without making one (if they didn’t have anon blocked lol). I also made it to be an ask blog lol

What do you post: On this blog I just reblog a lot of things I like or that I think is interesting and sometimes I will post something that is from me about things I want to talk about or whatever lol

Last thing you googled: Instagram (lol)

AO3: I actually didn’t know what this meant so I googled it and I think it’s for fandoms and making stuff for it (correct me if I am wrong), so I will do drawings/art most of the time for it lol

Do you ever get asks: Yes, not as much anymore and sometimes I fail at answering the ones I still have, but back when I was an ask blog I would get some asks more than I do now lol.

How did you get the idea for your url: when I was making my account I didn’t know how this stuff worked, so when I was making the url I thought it was what you could title your blog as and I wanted to be called Rainbow. When using rainbow didn’t work I used rainbow500, but something went wrong with it so I had to make another and I couldn’t use the same name, so I went a number up and that’s why I have the name rainbow600 lol

Favorite food: I like a lot of foods, but I normally or use to say that it was cotton candy (or grapes lol)

Last book you read: I think the last book I read was The House of the Scorpion and it’s a really go book in my option. Like it made me feel bad for the character and good when they fought through the struggles lol

Top 3 fictional universes: Steven Universe, Overwatch, and maybe Flapjack. But that last one I’m not sure about lol. Let’s change it to a universe where everything is made of candy and you can’t get cavities, just for fun lol.

I tag:

@pixelsbecool @wakeywakeyeggsandanxiety @chubbyskeletons @cara-unbound @dibfan4lifex3 @cinemalover17 and @ask-feline-girl-2000

(Otherwise I’m not tagging 10 people and those that are tagged, you can do this if you want to do it.)

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toonsforkicks22 · 8 years ago

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TAWOG-The Guy’s Feels

He knew the moment he pulled out his tape measure, she was already questioning their rekindled friendship. It wasn’t that Josh was psychotic or anything, just a believer in conspiracy theories and other strange stuff. Anais’ brothers were possibly the strangest things outside books and media.

Still, his rambling about some frog named Kratok ruling in the near future seemed to not enlighten Anais in any way at all. Just a few seconds ago they were by each other’s side, grinning with giddiness. It was a feeling that Josh never felt around most people (especially around her brothers). And he just had to screw it up and make her think he was some kind of secret society freak.

Yes, he enjoyed looking up possible secrets of the universe. Yes, he loved to switch the letters of product names and determine some kind of secret code. He especially enthralled in the literature of an amazing world where anything was possible. Something he imagined on a daily basis because things around him were typically boring…

Except Anais. She was the most interesting moment to happen to him. He became her weirdest, unless her brothers were already taking that first place spot.

Once Josh explained plans to make a pod her size, he watched as the younger kid grew dejected. It was almost as if he crushed her hope in some way, and it wasn’t until Gumball started rubbing it in her face did it dawn on Josh. She figured something was wrong with him, and he couldn’t blame her.

After some bitter rebuttal at Gumball to shut it, Anais simply said to Josh she would seem him later and began to walk away. Not wanting to lose her again just after fixing their friendship, he immediately asked if she wanted to hang out after school for ice cream. He mentally cheered despite she had given him a less than pleasant okay.

School was done, and, as he had hoped, Anais met him at the front doors just as everyone was pouring out. Her brothers were nowhere to be seen, thank goodness. Josh was relieved he could hang out in peace with Anais, without either of those two spying for any “illegal activity” on his part.

That might as well been what Anais was expecting, because the latter hardly said a word as she walked beside Josh. Her pink ears drooped back like dead grass, not in the usually perked up position he remembered from the first time they met. Her expression was unreadable, as if she desired to be anywhere than where she was headed. And who she was headed with. Her eyes focused forward, not even taking a moment to glance at her side nor bat him a lash.

Yup, he was pretty sure she was regretting this…

When they entered the parlor, Josh held the door open for her. She gave him an appreciative smile, but it didn’t last, her expression resorting back to dismay. His heart could not have descended anymore, but he still pulled a seat for her first anyway. After they ordered, not even the music blaring from the intercom could break the silence between them.

Josh twiddled his fingers, his eyes shifting from the table they sat at to Anais, whose eyes never left the sight of her own curled fist. She didn’t dare look at him, her lip biting over her bottom one, as if she was trying to think of an excuse not to be here.

Suddenly, he started to realize just how hard it must have been for her in this situation: wondering if the whole friendship thing was a lie or loneliness didn’t seem so bad after all. Good grief, how the roles have reversed...

“So, um, Anais,” he began carefully, although the latter still didn’t look up at him, “do you come to this place often?”

“Pretty much,” the pink rabbit muttered despondently. “It’s where I usually go if I’m having a hard time making friends. Or basically did make friends, but they turn out to be something else. So I wallow in grief and self-hatred here until I’m absorbed in a new belief that opportunity could come again.”

Josh wasn’t sure if that was a verbal jab at him, or Anais being honest about herself. Well, considering her brothers had tried to catch him “in the act”, that should have been the first red flag. Something told him he probably wasn’t the first person she approached in hopes of making a friend.

“Speaking of new belief,” she spoke with sarcastic nonchalance, “is a possibly photoshopped frog just one of the ‘rulers’ you worship, or is there a high chance you’re probably worshipping big, overrated gems too?”

Okay, now he was pretty sure that was a jab at him…

As his eyes locked on Anais, he could sense hinted callous. Although he only knew her for a few days, he never believed she would be that type of person. Yet with brothers like hers, who could blame her for the attitude shift?

The conspiracy theorist sighed. “Look, Anais, I’m pretty sure I must be freaking you out...”

“You think?” she demanded, her voice raising just above a pitch. “When Gumball and Darwin tried to convince me something was wrong with you, I defended you every single time. I thought I was the problem in this entire situation! And just when we made up, you turn out to be a member of some bogus society!”

“That’s what I told my mom!” Josh admitted, throwing his hands up. “How do you think I felt when she told me about this group that praises Kratok?”

Anais folded her arms, giving him a rather questionable look. “Oh, come on, I’m pretty sure you were taught since birth about this stuff.”

Josh gave her an unamused expression. “Did your parents ever teach you how to be a genius?”

“Of course not!” she retorted. “I was born great! I became a genius!”

There was a pause. Suddenly, her ears lowered and her cheeks began to heat up as she regarded him curiously.

“Wait...you think I’m a genius?” she asked in a meek tone.

“Isn’t obvious?” Josh answered politely.

Already Anais’ cheeks were growing hotter, so hot they could melt all the ice cream in the parlor. Which was better said than done as an old man behind their table was about to taste his sundae. It was already sinking into creamy soup in his bowl. The individual gazed down at it with both disgust and disappointment, wondering how that even happened.

“Is it getting hot in here or is it just me?” he asked himself, pulling the collar of his shirt as sweat began to pour down the side of his head.

Neither Anais nor Josh heard him, the former unable to control the grin that grew across her face. Josh offered one in return, blushing mildly with embarrassment.

“Um, no one’s really said that me before...” she confessed, trying to suppress a girlish giggle. “Well, unless you count being called that out of malevolence or inevitable jealousy because it’s true.”

“Well, you are the smartest girl in school,” Josh expressed sincerely. “I mean, you’re not even 12 and already ahead of your brothers.”

She clasped a hand over her mouth, trying not to erupt with even more giggles. Compliments came rarely to her, unless they were brought with a massive dose of sarcasm (usually from Gumball). She nearly forgot that just hours ago she found out Josh was part of some abnormal-thinking group. Before she found out about that, the first time they met, she did find him incredibly nice. And so sweet given he didn’t run away from her in terror like everyone else did.

However, her smile disappeared, and fear overcame her.

“Wait...” she began nervously. “You’re not just feeding me compliments to persuade me to be part of your Kratok-loving belief society, are you?”

Internally hurt, Josh brushed it aside. “Of course not,” he insisted. “I meant what I said.”

Anais felt regretful for even asking that. She leaned against her seat, rubbing her fingers together. “Right, I’m sorry...But earlier at the playground, when you were measuring my size for a pod-”

“Force of a habit,” Josh admitted. “My mom does it so much that somehow I just end up doing the same too.”

She gazed at him hopefully. “So...you’re not crazy.”

“Crazy for you,” he told her teasingly. “Is that going to be a problem?”

This time Anais couldn’t stop giggling, and her cheeks were more red than the cherries of patrons’ already melting sundaes. Neither of the kids noticed, simply absorbed in each other’s company.

Josh grinned, having always enjoyed this side of Anais. When she was calm, sincere, and courteous, it was why he really did cherish their friendship. When she took after her brothers, usually he would just have to grin and bear it. But right now she was the same girl who approached him at the playground. That same fun, silly, cool girl.

After fixing her giggles, Anais regarded him with a pleasant gaze. “So...you’re part of some society that worships an amphibian, but you’re-”

“Not crazy like my mom and her followers,” Josh said. “This is just a family thing and, well, I love my family. Sometimes the things they do just rub on me so much that I end up doing the same.”

“Well, that’s actually comforting to hear,” Anais admitted. “I’m really sorry for my attitude earlier. I really do think you’re a good friend, even though you are a little weird.”

Josh’s cheeks reddened as much as hers, and in the background Larry was screaming as tubs of ice cream began to melt, overflowing the counters in flavored waterfalls.

“Why is it so hot in here?” he screamed before dashing to grab a mop.

“Well, I really, really think you’re a good friend,” Josh told Anais, having not heard the commotion in the background at all. “Even though you have some weird siblings.”

“I get that a lot,” she chuckled, fiddling with one of her drooped ears.

“And for the record,” he added with a tender smile, “even it wasn’t for Kratok and all that stuff, I would still build you a pod. Just to keep you safe in case the world gets attacked by some void or whatever.”

“Aww!” Anais cooed, clutching her chest. “That’s the sweetest, most absurd thing anyone’s ever said to me!”

The heat was unbearable for the parlor. People were slipping on melted ice cream, and Larry was trying to conceal the fire that conveniently erupted from the selection bar.

“How does this even happen?” he cried, watching as ice cream literally caught on fire.

Once again, neither of the kids noticed. Anais was too lost in Josh’s eyes to even hear the screams of angry and disgusted people over a day of ice cream ruined. She rested her elbows on the table, hands supporting her head in such a manner, it was as if she was admiring a work of art.

“So, since we’re really, really friends again...” she began, lowering her eyelids, “tell me, what are your thoughts on marriage?”

“Oh, well, I think it’s a nice thing,” Josh responded casually.

However, his eyebrows immediately rose after slowly processing her question.

“Wait, WHAT?” he exclaimed.

THE END

@flutteringpie

#the amazing world of gumball #gumball watterson #Darwin Watterson #anais #triangle guy #tawog #awog #larry needlemeyer #elmore #Cartoon network #yes I was making fun of Steven Universe #cn

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an-aura-about-you · 8 years ago

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Happy belated to @heroictype ! I’ve been busy/tired, but here’s a belated birthday drabble!

Once upon a time there was a witch who ran a convenience store.

It was a cozy, tidy place, shelves always in order, their little islands making a tiny grid of aisles. The wall across from the cash register was lined with refrigerators stocked with soda, milk, juice, energy drinks, even beer and a few quick-bite sandwiches and bare-minimum cooking essentials like eggs and butter. The aisle facing the sodas bore sweets of all sorts, candies, cakes, breakfast pastries, and a carousel of gourmet lollipops. Next to that, after a white gleaming tile gap, sat emergency goods of both medicine cabinet and supply cabinet variety. Tiny packs of powdered aspirin by blue sample boxes of tampons, bright copper batteries hanging near keychain flashlights. On the other side was salty snacks and salty foods the likes of which could survive any pantry. Bags heaped upon bags of zesty pizza potato chips, jars of I-can’t-quite-place-the-namebrand peanut butter, a few dinner helper boxes, and cans of mystery meat made their home here. Next to them was a hat rack of novelty headgear and beverage coozies, trucker hats with delicately embroidered and partly-censored swear words and the perfect camo print baby onesie for a bottle of Bud Light. Against the wall by the door on one side was a microwave and a coffee machine that dispensed regular, decaf, cappucino, and hot chocolate, which was the same powder that all the other coffee dispensers in the area used but everyone swore this was the best cuppa joe in town. Its neighbor on the other side of the door was a chest style ice cream freezer filled to the brim with popsicles, cones, ice cream sandwiches, ice cream candy bars, and those gumball ice creams that sometimes look like cartoon characters. Against the wall behind the cash register were cases of insta-scratch-and-win cards, box towers of cigarettes, and a digital clock bearing the time to the second, the date, and a notice that if you were born after this day in such-and-such year you will not be permitted to buy this-or-that. Next to the cash register itself was a small stack of the day’s newspaper, given out free with purchase.

It was a cozy, tidy place, and everyone picked it over the gas station whenever they could.

And every time they did, whether they knew it or not, they got a wish.

Most of the time they didn’t know, because the wishes they got were normal items wishes.

Now, one might think an item had to have inherent magic to grant a wish. Perhaps that has contributed over the years to the decrease in grant success found in normal items wishes. After all, if what you need could be found in the convenience store around the corner, it can’t grant a wish worth being granted. If wishes were common, the world would surely know it.

But the witch who ran the store knew what she had. She had a corner lot piled full of wish vessels, normal items that can hold those things humans yearn for. The things that make them the sort to end up in the convenience store at 2:30 in the morning on the hunt for that one brand of beef jerky they love most of all, the things that drew in the frazzled in askew business attire frantically shoving a reusable mug under the coffee dispenser, the things that brought in exhausted women with babies at their breasts looking for something, ANYTHING that could give them a moment’s peace. The convenience store, by itself, could help all of them to some small degree. Some of them might even get wishes beyond their dreams.

It only made sense for a witch to run the convenience store.

The woman who came in at 4:15 one dark, sleepy morning was one of the casual sorts on first glance. Probably back from a night of partying judging by the tight tank and miniskirt, though the zip-up hoodie draped on her swallowed her up into what society declares decent. She didn’t tarry; she headed straight for the sweets section and picked up a two-pack of cupcakes and a bottle of soda.

The witch thought nothing of this purchase until the woman asked, “Hey, do you guys have birthday candles?”

The witch lifted her eyes from the register screen. Of all the normal items that can grant wishes, birthday candles are the most well known and the most powerful. “I do,” she answered. “And cake mix if you’d rather...”

“Oh no, this is fine!” the woman insisted, waving a hand. “It’s for me. Besides, I like the cream-filled ones.”

The witch nodded and said, “True, it wouldn’t do for you to have to make your own birthday cake.”

The woman shrugged and replied, “Well, belated now. I think.” She glanced at the clock to check. “Yep, belated.”

Belated. That’s the one little catch with birthday candles: they’re at their most powerful when blown out at the stroke of midnight for the incoming birthday. What a shame that this woman had missed her best hour. But one thing wishes couldn’t do is turn back the clock.

“Well, Happy Belated Birthday,” the witch said. “I hope it was a good one.”

“Can’t complain,” the woman told her.

The witch had never heard anyone from the clear aftermath of a party, even if the party apparently wasn’t in honor of their birthday, describe the event with the words, ‘Can’t complain.’ Typically the people who say they can’t complain are the ones who actually can’t because doing so would get them in trouble.

And while there’s nothing wrong with leaving things at, ‘Can’t complain,’ the witch had an idea to make things at least a little nicer. So she tapped the package of cupcakes and asked, “Have you ever had one of these heated up?”

The woman’s eyes grew wide and she went, “You can do that?!”

The witch pointed to the microwave and asked, “Want me to show you?”

“Absolutely!”

“Now blow the candle out, my dear, and make your wish come truuuue!” the witch sang. “A very merry unbirthday to you!”

The woman blew out the candle and immediately tried to pluck the cupcake off the plate before finding the plastic fork the witch offered. She dug in only to find the cream had turned into a molten core coating the innards of the cake.

“Oh my god, it’s like a lava cake only the cake soaked up all the lava!” she gasped. “I think this is my wish come true!”

The witch smiled in the face of the woman’s warmth bubbling up like melty cupcake cream, the filling for any wish, and hoped that she might see the results.

#original fiction this time!#in the vein of a modern day fairy tale

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technicolorpestilence · 8 years ago

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For @kirbyrainboom who requested a Mordaret ice cream shop fic. It’s been so long since I’ve actually completed something! Thank you for the request and allowing my slacker self to get productive. Spoiler alert: Those of you who haven’t seen the finale or season eight, proceed with caution. Contains a major spoiler, you’ve been warned.

I guess this takes place sometime after the dome returned to earth, maybe a few months. Mordecai and Margaret are a couple, canon be damned, they ended up together, end of story.

I got lazy near the end, I just didn’t know how to end it, but I hope you like it anyway! It was fun to write.

“…And your sure Benson won’t mind?“ She asked for what was perhaps the hundredth time.

Mordecai rolled his eyes, smiling. “Me and Rigby do this stuff all the time,” he assured confidently. At seeing her dubious look, he continued.

“He’s cool with it, trust me.”

Margaret raised an eyebrow disbelievingly. She didn’t know the manager very well, they only exchanged idle greetings whenever she was at the house or when he visited the coffee shop. So, she didn’t know how true the jay’s claims were. One thing she did know however, was that he absolutely hated when his employees slacked off on their chores. She could hear the gumball machine’s screams rattling throughout the coffee shop two blocks down!

She shrugged her shoulders, deciding not to press any further, biting back a smile at his rebellious attitude. Mordecai smiled back at her. He missed her, his Margaret. He missed her pretty face and long, long legs, he missed her angelic voice, he missed her infectious laughter and the warmth of her hands.

“So, this is a new place you say?” He asked as they approached their destination.

“Yeah, it opened a couple weeks ago. I’ve only been here once with Eileen.”

Mordecai released her hand and rushed to the door. He pushed it back, stepping aside with a courteous bow.

“After you, My Lady,” he spoke, gesturing inside.

“Why, thank you,” Margaret grinned. “Who says chivalry is dead?”

The two shared a chuckle, fingers interlacing as they entered the little store. The bell chimed a friendly greeting as the door swung shut behind them.

Mordecai inhaled the cool air with a smile.

“Man, I’ve missed this”

Margaret raised a brow. “You missed air conditioning?”

“Well, in space the airs all dry,” He clarified.

“I thought you couldn’t breathe without a suit,” she teased, giving him a playful nudge to the side.

“Heh, rumors”

Mordecai turned and froze, eyes wide as he took in the bright gaudy colours and showy decor. Scoops of ice cream adorned the walls looking down at them through a smile- not creepy and unsettling, but with warmth that made you feel welcome and fuzzy inside.

Mordecai’s eyes darted all around the cozy shop, unsure where to rest. A yogurt bar was stationed behind the counter with more toppings and syrup than he could count. The young woman standing at the counter, greeted them, dressed in a pink apron, wearing a genuine sunny disposition that didn’t seem forced. Margaret was starting to think she should have worked here instead.

She waved a hand in front of his face, stifling a giggle.

“It’s his first time,” she explained to the server who was staring at the gawking avian with a questionable look.

Mordecai snapped his beak shut, immediately letting go of her hand and dashing to the counter. He pressed his face against the glass like a kid in a candy store.

“There’s so many flavours! Butter Fudge Almond. Butterfudge Ice Cream with Almonds, Cherry Vanilla. Vanilla Ice Cream with Whole Red Cherries, Coconut Chip. Coconut Ice Cream with Chocolate Flakes…”

Margaret laughed again as he proceeded to list off every flavour animatedly, the small group of customers sitting around staring at him like he had escaped from an insane asylum.

Like a child alright, she mused with a smirk.

“I’ve never seen anyone so enthusiastic about ice cream before,” she commented, joining him at the counter.

“Are you kidding?! I used to eat this stuff all the time as a kid. There was this one store that Rigby and me would always walk to; it was a bit of a hike, but it was totally worth it.”

“Ice cream is the best,” she admitted.

“Yeah, it is!” He whooped, throwing his wings up. Margaret laughed along with him, before turning to the server who had been patiently waiting, entertained by the strange couple.

“What can I get for you two?” She asked sweetly, her hands folded neatly over the counter.

“Hmm,” Mordecai scratched his chin as he pondered the options. “I think I’d like to try some frozen yogurt,”

“Sure! Help yourself,” She chirped, waving a hand at the bar behind her.

Mordecai grinned as he tugged Margaret along. When did he become so strong? She wondered. He mulled over the line of various flavours, reading them aloud and chuckling at the bubblegum flavour. The couple decided, after some persuading on Margaret’s part, and Margaret poured out the frozen dessert into a cup while Mordecai picked out the toppings. He then ushered her to a table, insisting that he would pay despite her argument. After grabbing a couple spoons, the duo seated themselves at a table in front of the window.

“This is really good!” Mordecai gushed, spooning another mouthful. Margaret beamed proudly.

“I mean, we had ice-cream in space, but it wasn’t as good as this. It just didn’t have the same taste to it, you know?”

She nodded understandingly. She looked up at the jay and snickered, cupping a wing over her mouth.

“What?” He asked obliviously.

“You got a little something on your beak,”

Mordecai felt the top of his beak with his wing. “I don’t feel anything,”

With an impish smile, she gathered some yogurt on her finger tip and leaned across the table, dotting his nose.

“Hey!”

Margaret fell back into her chair, giggling. With a sly smile, Mordecai bent back his spoon and released it, flicking his own share at her.

Margaret gasped, staring down at the yogurt blotched onto her shirt in mortification. She looked up to see Mordecai laughing at his deed. Scowling, she dug her spoon into the cup, and launched the mound. Mordecai’s laughter ended abruptly with a yelp as the desert made contact with his feathers. His bewildered expression met her smug smile and challenging look.

Before either of them could acknowledge it, they were in a full blown war. Mounds of yogurt sailed through the air as each targeted the other, ducking behind chairs and dirtying the walls in the process. Most of the customers fled, grumbling under their breaths about how poor the establishment was, while others joined in.

Mordecai’s calculating eyes swept over the shop, searching for the robin’s whereabouts, a scoop of yogurt at the ready in his hand. He felt someone tap his shoulder and spun around, only to be attacked head on by a sugary kiss filled with gummy bears and gummy worms. Margaret giggled as she parted, licking the yogurt from her lips. Even with ruffled feathers, disheveled hair, and yogurt stained into her clothes, she was stunning. Mordecai was in a daze, stunned and disoriented, his mouth agape.

Margaret smirked triumphantly. It seemed she had won.

The two returned to their table to finish what little fro-yo remained, laughing about their silly game.

Mordecai sighed, contented. “Thanks for this, Margaret. I’ve been really bummed out lately. It’s nice to be able to smile again.”

“Of course,” she returned with the warm smile that made his heart melt into putty. “I hate seeing you sad.”

“It’s just so much has happened,” he continued, gazing out of the window forlornly. “Being in space for three years, Pops’ death. It’s a lot to take in.”

Margaret lay her hand on top of his, giving it an encouraging squeeze. He gave her a small smile, grateful for her company.

“You wanna go to Cheezers?” She offered. “Maybe we’ll get a discount or something, technically speaking, you are an astronaut.”

Mordecai snorted. “Heh, yeah. What’s with this city and astronauts?”

“WHAT HAPPENED HERE!!!!”

The two jumped and turned to see a man stomp over to them, jaw clenched, his face beet red. The girl at the counter winced and ducked down. Unlike their server’s apron and hat, he wore a pin stripe shirt and tie. The avians blinked as he towered over them, his nostrils flared. The tag pinned to his lapel clearly told them he was the manager.

“YOU TWO, CLEAN THIS UP RIGHT NOW BEFORE I HAVE YOU BANNED INDEFINITELY!!!!”

“Indefinitely?” Mordecai parroted.

“Indefinitely!” He screeched, the two recoiled in disgust as his spittle pelted them.

“Say it, don’t spray it,” Mordecai mumbled under his breath, wiping the spit from his face.

“You think he and Benson know each other?” Margaret asked her partner in a hushed whisper. The two snickered in unison.

“NOW!!!!”

“Yes, Sir!” They chorused, hurriedly hopping from their seats.

“And I thought Benson was scary,” she murmured as the man marched away, his shoulders taut.

The remainder of the day was spent scrubbing down and scraping blobs of yogurt from walls and floors. The two threw casual conversation back and forth as they worked, swatting at each other with rags and cackling as the manager of the shop observed them through narrowed eyes, the vein on his forehead pulsing.

“Damn kids”

#regular show #requests #mordaret #fanfiction #mindless fluff #my shit

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undermycitadel · 8 years ago

Text

Evangelina//Request//Part 2

I am bombarded by a familiar female figure the second I step from the car’s grip and I want to cry from the lack of contact for a while. It’s Brigitte, squeezing me for dear life with her hands tugged at my hips and lower back. She was always so touchy but who was I to argue with someone who was excited to see me? I hugged her back in the same manner as she did to me, no longer caring about whether my skirt rose because I missed her so. Her muffled laughter was barely audible against my dark green jacket. The joyful sound of the girl’s laughter brightened my spirits almost to the point where you would think I would forget about “it”. I’ll never forget but I was distracted for a while. Brigitte is the loveliest girl I’ve ever laid eyes on and the fact that we were related made me feel like the luckiest girl in the world over any marriage proposal. “Angie! I didn’t think you’d actually come”, she exclaimed that posh accent of hers that I remembered. “Yeah. I didn’t even think I would leave New York until my time had passed”, I giggled after drawing our hands together and tangling our fingers together which caused Brigitte to laugh and hide her face in my chest.

“You’re just as I remembered, Angie”.

“You’re hardly! What color was your hair the last time? Platinum?” I flung a fair sized strand of her now Gray-ish blonde hair.

“I think it was more of a white, and who are you to talk Mrs.I had blonde hair when I was two but then it magically turned brown?”

“I told you it’s possible!”

I shut the door behind me once the two of us stopped jabbing at one another. Uncle Howard shut his door rather loudly then started for the rest of my things in the trunk. “You go on ahead, love”, he said. “I’ll take this to your room. He left his car double parked as well as me and Brigitte for some “catching up”. Brigitte waved at her Father to signal the okay with responding smiles and I wondered if I could live here for the rest of my life and have that same relationship with my parents. I was about ready to cancel my flight home from that look alone, however, Brigitte would give me some advice on parental memos and things of that nature. Breaking from my selfish thoughts, I stared at my cousin lovingly. She caught on eventually and broke into her signature smile that exposed her gap tooth for all of the world to see.

“I want to show you around my block if you don’t mind”, she grabbed my hand.

“Sure”.

“Great because there’s this sweet shop around the corner where I want to take you. It has all the toffee you could ever want!” said she before running off with me as if I were her prize.

Brigitte was my age but looked much older than sixteen. Her grayish-blonde hair drew down her her lower back as mine did but she had a set of bangs sweeping across her forehead to complement her squarish face. Her skin was a bright shade of olive, lips as pure as a peach, and her voice could rival the finest opera. To me, she looked to be more on the upper side of eighteen than a young girl like me. What gave her away was her childlike and almost ADHD type personality. Leave it to Brigitte to find a way to make a boring evening feel like an action packed afternoon with the works. I couldn’t begin to understand how she could still be a sophisticated young lady after that being said. Her looks were an extension of her personality, always dressing by the laws of the swinging sixties with her colorfully printed dresses, platformed boots, and makeup to top it all off. You would think that an outfit with that high of a color count would throw it off completely but she made do with it somehow. I know that I could never pull off what she was wearing as she bound the two of us together to venture to the highly talked about sweet shop around of the corner; prominently purple floral gown, kitten heels, and various pieces of black jewels around her neck and wrists. It was basic for her taste, yet, I wouldn’t bring myself to wear anything even remotely related. My self-confidence is my scapegoat for just about everything I refuse to do so I put the blame it on just that.

She and I were the closest out of all of all of my other family members including the younger ones. Maybe it was our gender which gave us both a reason to relate to one another or probably the fact that we were both hormonal teenagers with just as much to say as the next one to pass us. Either way, I felt instantly at home when I stepped onto the UK cement for the first time because of her and I loved her for it; nothing could change it.

“How do you feel?” asked Brigitte as we walked on the sidewalk and swing our connected hands whilst doing so.

“Bout what?”

“Being in Britain for the first time. What do you think of it so far?”

I looked at my surroundings, searching for an answer that we’d both agree with. A fine red, honking car sped down the stone street. I noticed that it was on the wrong side of the street and couldn’t believe it, quite frankly. Another turn of my head and there was an ice cream vendor handing out samples to tiny children with pigtails and bob cuts. I suppose you could find vendors anywhere but around my apartment was the only place you wouldn’t see any set foot. I was jealous and huffed to make a point of it.

“It’s quite nice. I think it’s dangerous that those cars are on the other side of the road, though. If anyone did that in New York you’d think they’d have a death wish or something”.

Brigitte chuckled, “Oh no. Evangelina, that’s the right way to drive. Hate to break it to you but the Brits are just better”.

“You’re a narcissist. But they really drive on the wrong side of the road? But how?”

“I don’t know. Probably because we’re on a different side of the world. If you go by that logic then we’re really not on the wrong side after all, huh?”

We exchanged thoughtful hums because I had never thought about it that way and I was curious as to why I hadn’t been taught to see it that way in school like how Brigitte had been. She said, “because America is the tourist attraction of the world, we must know things about it that even Americans don’t even about where they live”. Americans must really be stupid for this to be the case and they don’t even realize it. Mr.Kennedy, what are you doing?

Ahead of us stands a store on the corner of a brick building. It’s small and sweet, almost as sweet as what it advertises on the sign hung over the striped shade claiming to have “Penny Sweets” and “Sugarbabies”. I have never heard of those names before but apparently I should have because when I tell my cousin she goes out of her mind and demands for me to try them so again, against my will she drags me forward and into the greatly decorated sweet shop that I have heard so much about as of twenty minutes ago.

Inside of the store, I see gumball machines painted red, red striped tables and black chairs where children sit and eat their banana splits and sherbets. The floors are a pattern of black and white checkerboard, the ceiling has a combination of rainbow swirls and polka dots. At first I find the color patterns strange, but I soon realize that this store is catering to the young minds and not the mature. I can dig it. A heavy set man sits in a sectioned off corner of the interior with a cash register sit and various candies, chocolates, and other confections lay organized by color and brand. His eyes are masked with tinted circular shaped glasses and a monopoly man mustache scratching his upper lip. I would praise him for the eye-popping layout of the place but unfortunately I was taught not to talk to strangers. He appears friendly to Brigitte. I see her stroll past me then to the sir. “Brigitte, what a treat to see you here again”, he greets her, supporting himself with a hearty laugh.

“Mr.Bernie how do you do?”

“Swell, thank you dear. And what about yourself? You look bone thin! Why don’t you eat at all, love?” he wiggles her slim arm and she giggles girlishly, trying to hold back her arm.

“Oh Mr.Bernie, you know I can’t gain weight. Why do you suppose I’m here all the time?”

So there I am standing by the door, dumbfounded at my current situation. Her hyper personality could be a curse sometimes. They’re talking about god knows what and I have no idea what to do with myself. I could easily make my way next to my cousin and introduce myself to the family guy that she’s holding her own in a conversation with but that would mean confrontation and anyone who knows me knows that I’m not the fondest of confrontation. Just thinking of the awkward small talk that comes with meeting new people makes me cringe and tug at my skirt. All is uncomfortable regardless of the dreamy place I’m in and I hate it.

All is uncomfortable until I hear Mr.Bernie say curiously, “...and who is your friend over by the door. She looks scared to death”, then I’m white hot. Brigitte suddenly turns to my attention and giggles. “Oh forgive me! That’s not my friend”, she hurries to bring me to the man. “This is my cousin”.

Mr.Bernie lowers his glasses to have a clearer look at me. The crows’ feet on the corner of his eyes grows to be larger the more he squints and the more he squints the more the creases on his forehead show. There he goes again with that hearty laugh.

“And what might your name be miss…?”

“Sir, my name is Evangelina Abel, sir”.

“Isn’t it supposed to be Evangeline?”

“ Yes. My Father wanted to name me Evander because that was his Mother’s name but my Mother wanted the name Angelina because it was her Grandmother’s name-”

“And this was the compromise?”

“Yes, sir”.

“Hm... I rather like it. It’s unique.”

“Hello, Miss Evangelina Abel. You’re not from here, are you?”

“She’s visiting from New York City Mr.Bernie!” said Brigitte, interrupting me before I could answer.

He didn’t mind it, nor did I.

“New York, eh? ‘The big apple’? How’s it like over there? I’ve only ever been there once and it was before the war.”

“I wish I could tell you everything but I’ve only been living there for a few years since my parents were stationed to work for a law firm. Uh, the banana pudding is okay”.

There goes that laugh for the third time today.

“Have you ever heard of blood pudding before?”

I drew my brows together, “No, I’m afraid not sir”, he laughed again.

“Ah, Evangelina you’re a pure doll”, Mr.Bernie stood from his chair then waddled around the counter to face us front and center. There I saw the truth of his girth. “You’re going to do just fine here in U of K. Brigitte here knows our town too well for you not to have a good time over here.” He untied his apron slathered with stains from sweat and spilled soda, revealing his pit stains through his thin white shirt. He hung up his apron on the wooden post emerging from the wall and when he showed signs that he was going into the back room Brigitte called out matter of factly, “Mister I don’t know if you know this or not, but every time I come in here it’s to make a purchase Mr.Bernie.”

“Take what you’d like, dear. A customer like you don’t have to worry about paying when you bring me so much business”. He went into the backroom leaving the store unattended with children eating their desserts and a potential felon who could eat the entire contents of the store and not show it because it would be impossible.

Brigitte faced me with one of the most excited grins I’ve ever seen. “See the perks of unhealthy eating? You’re welcome”.

“Thank you, but I’m not much of a sweet tooth. You go on ahead. I’ll try to find some-”

“Fruit? Over there”, she pointed to a wall where bags of apples hang with bananas and other sorts of nature’s candy but chose not the welcoming grapes, but the blackcurrant toffee on the counter cut up into puny shapes. God bless her soul.

I hear a bell ring and it belongs to the door, for someone has entered. I haven’t eaten more than two dried dates, Brigitte, on the other hand, has gone from Maltesers to White Gums. There is a boy wearing black slacks and a gray sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up walking directly to my cousin who is stuffing her face with one-hundred percent sugar. She doesn’t notice the boy until he’s leaning on the table she’s sitting at as she’s eating but when she does her face lights up and the chocolate in between her teeth show, clear as day. She sets down her confections, throwing herself up from her seat, “Mick!”, and wrapping her arms around the teenager’s shoulders. I thought this must be her boyfriend because never before have I seen a young lady act as friendly to a friend as Brigitte was with the stranger.

Mick hugged her for a split second before giving in, “alright Brigitte, don’t break me now”.

She pressed his cheeks together, “You’re such a sour puss”, and kissed the tip of his nose.

I’m convinced they’re together. How could they not?

I wasn’t one to interfere in what I assumed the situation to be, so I kept to myself, looking down to my half eaten date to pull apart the dried skin and letting it drop onto the checkerboard floor.

“Where have you been Jagger? I thought you weren’t going to punk out on us until at least August.”

“I wasn’t. You know how my Mum is; always bitching about those records of mine.”

“What happened this time?” asked Brigitte sounding like she had a mouthful of chocolate.

“It was that damn Chuck Berry record you gave me. I was blastin’ it while cleaning my room and she came in and shut it down. Grounded me for a week”. His voice was a boyish baritone, the posh accent varied upon words, and I wanted to see the face behind the voice but didn’t dare look up.

“Damn”.

“Damn right. I blame her. If she would just be cool with the music. I mean, at least I was cleaning”.

Brigitte giggled her contagious giggle, passing it to Mick who tried to cover it.

“Yeah well, that’s the reason for the hiatus- and what about you and Dean, huh? Where have you been the past few days?”

“You know me by now Mick. Either I’m here or I’m in the house. I don’t know about Dean. My brother’s weird- maybe he’s got a girl or something”.

“You wanna go to the record store? Walk or something? I’m bored, haven’t done anything all day”.

“We can-”, I heard a clunk on the table. “But first, meet my cousin; she’s over there”.

I looked up from the pile of tiny peelings on the floor and straight to the two across from me. Then I was able to have a good look at the alleged Mick Jagger. His skin was fair, lips were thick and red, hair as long as I saw it being from the back, and his eyes were innocently baby blue. My eyes were only innocent and auburn, I stared back at the two across the room, switching back to either one by the second. My lips were pouted, half open. To avoid it staying that way, I thought quickly to chew on the remainder of my dried date. Mick blinked his glazed eyes over while turned to my direction. His eyebrows raised and lips were pursed as he studied me. Brigitte proceeded to pick herself up from her seat and drag me over to where they nested. After Mick took a seat on at one of the wooden chairs around our table I too took a chair but not by my choosing. Brigitte was pretty much controlling my movements by then.

“Her name’s Evangelina Abel, we’re related”, she crouched down in order to be our sitting heights. Brigitte supported herself with her elbows on the edge of the round table and head resting on her folded arms. My eyes drew down to his hands that were breaking off a chunk of I would have expected a grant meeting from my cousin and so this shouldn’t have been a surprise to me. He was new, so I was going to act new too. I’ll start off with a fresh “Hi” and a warm nod of my head.

“Hello there. Have you the stomach that she has?” he flicked Brigitte’s bang and giggled.

“Can you believe her?” he cocked his head at me. “ She eats food like it’s going out of style”.

I smiled, holding back my horse laughter at my cousin. She pushed Mick’s arm playfully in pretend anguish. “Watch it, Jagger. More of that and I'll eat your hyde”

“Be my guest”, he said, and then I sputtered with giggles at her expensive.

He glanced at me, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

“You like that huh?”

I took a break from sprinkling lemon juice on Brigitte’s wounded pride. “Do you guys always jab at each other like that?”

“Pretty much. I suppose there is a relative bond between us that we like denying, don’t we Ms.Malik?”

“We sure do Mr.Jagger”, she agreed whilst groggily getting up. “Paws off my chocolate. You know Bernie doesn’t like it when I share merchandise”, she slapped his hands away from the selection of candies on the table. In response to that, Mick leaned over the table and lightly coughed over everything that lay about. I found this hilarious, too hilarious even. In fact, this type of humor gave me the urge to burst out into a flame of laughter although it made Brigitte want to crawl out of her skin, I’m sure. I covered my mouth with my hand to prevent anything from spilling out and watched the free entertainment.

“Oh my god, Mick, stop!”, she gasped. She then nearly struck him, pushing him out of the chair and far away from the table.

She still ate what she could from the table regardless of what Mick did to the confections.

“You see what I have to put up with?” he asked me. I couldn’t respond, for if I did the threat of sounding like a fool would catch up and show clearer than the chocolate in between Brigitte’s teeth. The only response I was capable of producing was a slow shaking of my head whilst still covering my mouth.

“Anyways, before I was so rudely interrupted by with fiend, Evangelina, what do you think of our town? Hate it already?” Mick got up at his own pace. Once up, he shared a seat with the think Brigitte because why not? There was more than enough room for the both of them. “I’ve only been in Dartford for merely a minute and Brigitte brought me here. So far it’s been sweet”, I answered, smiling for a second at my word play. I placed both of my hands on the table and covered the dried fruit. “I don’t think I’ll have a bad time, though”, I tucked my hair behind both of my ears. “She’s here for the summer”, added Brigitte.

“Is that so?” he asks me in a tone of which I view as vaguely flirty.

“That is correct sir” I somewhat flirted back.

Mick reached over and placed his hands over mine. He gingerly unfolded my hands and I’m feeling tinglingly by the abruptness of his actions. I wasn’t sure if that was a thing that British people do but I wasn’t going to complain. It felt quite nice to have his hands on my own. After he’d unfolded my hands, he rolled the fruit from underneath and pick it up. Mick brought it to his mouth and chewed off a piece. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks and I know I’m blushing. “You’ll be fine here. Brigitte may look dumb on the outside but she’s a sweetheart at heart”. Brigitte was touched, saying “Awe” then kissing Mick on his cheek. Then he said, “but if you get tired of her bitching at all, know that I live only a few houses down”, which caused her to nudge him in the side. “I’m going to eat you, so be prepared”.

We shared eye contact, ignoring Brigitte. He shown a half smile and so did I. He continued to chew on the date. I couldn’t help but think highly of him. It hadn’t even been eleven minutes getting to know him and his confidence was growing on me. The humor was cute and so was he. You’re right Jagger, I’ll be just fine here.

Mick broke the stare when the shop’s owner came back from behind the back room’s door, fresh and so clean-clean. I craned my neck to see Mr.Bernie. The new shirt he wore was a dark green button up paired neatly with gray trousers and black loafers. My guess was that the store was going to close early because of the briefcase in his hand. His face wasn’t as welcoming as it was when I first came through the door. “Mick, you’re not stealing again are you?” he stomped towards our table.

“I told you Mr.Bernie: I wasn’t stealing”, Mick defended himself. “It just so happened that I came in the day that your shipments came in and you were short of one Milk bar. I don’t even like milk!”

“Yeah, yeah Jagger. We’ll see what the tapes say. Brigitte, I’m home bound. Wendy will be here shortly. Have a nice afternoon, dear. Tell your Mum I’m still waiting for her casserole dish”, the heavy set man opened the door. “Ms.Abel, you have a nice time in our community. I hope to see you again in this shop of mine”. He tipped his hat and was out the door. After the door was shut and Mick was sure that Mr.Bernie was gone, he flipped him off.

“Mick, how dare you”, laughed Brigitte as she playfully scolded and slapped his arm.

“Wendy’s just as bad as him. I’d better be off”.

“We’re leaving too”.

_________________________________________________________

Back at the house later that evening, I lounged in the kitchen with Brigitte nursing a glass of water and watching the birds fly in and out of their nest through the window. Mick was cool. I thought about him in and out of our conversations about pointless topics spanning from eyebrows to all of the foods I refuse to eat. She felt that after all of that prior eating that it was time for some more eating. She helped herself to a cold and refreshing Cornish Dairy Bar, fresh from the freezer. I was bewildered. I mean, where was it all going? I remembered her mentioning something about a devil’s food cake with her name on it on the walk to the sweet shop. If she could get that down then there was certainly an award with her name on it somewhere. Brigitte couldn’t trust a person who doesn’t drink milk but Mick was the only exception.

“I don’t like milk either”, I said.

“You’re an exception too”.

Nothing felt out of the ordinary, nothing felt any more different than before. I assumed it was because I’d been resting in one place for too long. By the end of that first day, I had only gone so far as to walk to the sweet shop and see as much as I could on the walk there. At nightfall, Brigitte’s brothers came home after a long day of looking for work around Central London. The first to enter was a Blonde swept back hair. So did the second and did the third. The boys were triplets with six-foot tall bodies, pearl skin, and black sports coats, walking one by one in through the out door. They all looked like a carbon copy of Marlon Brando from a 1950’s movie. “Where’s Dad?” the first one asked, his head around the room looking for someone with an answer. “Did he make food?” asked the identical one, second in line. “Brigitte!” called the third in line. All well put together gentlemen. You wouldn’t think their voices could scruff up as they did. Brigitte popped her head away from the confection to see her brothers to say “Oh hey boys! Guess what?”, but the trifecta made a B-line for the refrigerator, completely ignoring their own flesh and blood.

She turned back to me, “You see this? This disrespect?”, with a hand covering the right side of her mouth.

The boys huddled around the fridge as if to plot an evil plan on the Lima beans. They came up for air with an armful each of everything from eggs to almond butter. Brigitte tried to get their attention by offering the boys a taste of her sugary goodness but they didn’t bat an eye. It took her going up to them sitting around the oval dining table and touching a drop of their cinnamon soda pop to draw their eyes. “Can I help you?” one of them asked, shielding his stash with a coat coated arm. I peered through the arches connecting the dining room from the kitchen nonchalantly. I was never one to stick my nose into other people's business and I wasn’t going to start that train up today.

“Has Dad not told you about our guest?” she placed a hand on her hip and another firmly grasping her dairy product.

“No, no he didn’t”, one of the boys shook his head. His posh accent made it impossible for him to pronounce his words correctly because he didn’t sound the second d in didn’t. Never would you have heard that anywhere in New York unless you were close to your Father making a business deal with an Italian man with chest hair and he was denying he’d ever met Angelo and ‘didn’t’ know who he was talking about. Brigitte said ‘didn’t’ exactly the same way so I guess it’s a regional thing.

“You ‘member Aunt Marcie, right?”

“How could I forget her. Now that’s two-hundred percent woman right there”, the boy at the head of the table butted in.

“Her daughter’s in the kitchen, you swine” she pointed behind her to where I sit, pretending to mind my own business.

The boys around the jokester’s mouths form in the shape of an ‘o’ slowly deforming into looks that tell all from the eyes, ‘You’ve shot yourself in the foot, buddy’. My eyes are in a daze somehow and I look at him with eyes of blazing fire. No one talks about my mother that way, even if she is pure woman and her legs do go all the way up. I would have had the mindset to think to myself: Hey, those curves are reserved for Pieter James but then I remembered ‘it’ and corrected myself immediately. Dammit. I wasn’t supposed to think about that. Now I’m gloomy and have to face new people. “Meet them, Angie. They’re all bark and no bite. Come along”, Brigitte beckoned for me to come and grab a chair with the rest of them. Reluctantly, I stood up and joined them as politely as I could show even though I felt tears burning my eyes. Better be sure to blink those away, we don’t want any more unwanted attention directed my way anymore today.

The threesome pointed interested eyes at me. “So you’re Evangelina?” the jokester raised an eyebrow. “So it appears”, I answered quietly. “...And your name would be?”

“Oh sure. I’m Kelly, that’s Dana, and over to there is Ventura”, Jokester inquired. “Mother was trying for girls but didn’t quite get around til the fourth try. Funny, she said ‘No I’m never having kids ever again, I’ll never have a girl, there’s no use in trying’ after Ventura was born but then she thought ‘Let’s wait til the boys burn two years, then we’ll start this train back up again’”. The roundtable laughed at the family inside joke, snickering about without me in the mixture. “So what brings you to Europe?” the triplet with the widest shoulders asked. “I know school’s out for you over there but it takes gall to agree to stay far away from a place you’re familiar with for very long”.

“Oh um, I don’t know. I think it was that very idea that influenced my decision, actually. I’ve been in New York for quite some time- don’t ever go there, you’d hate it. It was so congested there. I’m just glad that I had the opportunity to leave for a bit”.

“Any excuse to leave and join our humble abode is fine with me”, the triplet with the whitest teeth smiled.

“Shut up, Dana. You sound like a damn fag”, Kelly, the triplet with the most authority because he was first born, scolded the youngest by twenty-five minutes.

“Anyways, you’re safe here my wee little cousin. Dad’s hardly around, Mum makes a killer Rum cake, we sure won’t snitch, so you can pretty much do anything you very well please”, he shrugged.

I covered my mouth to conceal the smirk I knew would appear. Really? Ludacris, absolutely ridiculous. “You’re joking, right?” I looked to Brigitte next to me for reassurance. “Is this- I mean- really?” I sported a toothy grin. I probably looked as ridiculous as the news I’d just heard but I was too excited to care. What a newbie, I was, yet, I didn’t care.

“I mean, listen”, Kelly said, “Me and the boys are still teenagers. We wouldn’t want our arses in heat”.

Brigitte nodded her head sympathetically. “Yes sweetie, you’re free here. Awe guys look at her, She’s so cute. They probably never let her out of her cage”.

Little did she know…

“Awe guys, let’s not scorn me for being happy. I just- really?”

“It’ll take a minute to set in, my dear child” Brigitte covered my ears.

“You guys, she’s so cute when she doesn’t understand anything”

“Hey!” I shoved her away. She broke a piece off from Dana’s chocolate bar and shrugged her shoulders as if to say “What are you gonna do?”. I knew what I was going to do. And especially with this newfound information...exactly what I’ve been doing all along because I am a complete putz who is scared of dipping her feet in the water and who is afraid that with whatever she does, it will get back to her parents and they’ll ship her off to a hell unknown to the public. It just wasn’t for me to go out of my comfort zone. “Who knows, baby. Maybe you’ll do something”, Brigitte chewed.

I didn’t want to think much about tomorrow as much anymore. No longer did I look forward to what was to come, the excitement of a new territory, the sweets to be shared. My head hurt, and I couldn’t understand it at all because I’d stopped thinking about it a while ago. I thought I did. I was tired, I didn’t dare show signs, but I wanted to go to bed and forget until tomorrow. In my dreams the feelings wouldn’t bother me. I could lay on a plush pillow of relax and doze off into the soundless plummet until morning. I wanted a bed. I yawned to make it known. To sell the idea more so, I rubbed my eyes and messed around with the hairs framing my face. Brigitte turned face, scrunching her eyes at me. “Did I show you to your room yet? You’re tired, aren’t you? Don't fret”. She began to get up and show me up. I didn’t need to carry my luggage because that had been taken care of earlier today. To my surprise the wall clock did not match my wrist watch which read 4:27 as the clock on the wall read five hours later. That was queer. I wasn’t sure to what connection it had with the time in New York but I was tired and couldn’t have cared less if it was my last hour on earth. When it gets dark outside, it is officially past my bedtime. If it wasn’t dark then I would sure need the escape for a while. Brigitte escorted me to the bedroom at the end of the hall, up the grand staircase that would lead us there. She said, “You’ll be sleeping in this room with me” which wasn’t the least of me troubles. After leaving me alone with the door shut behind her I heard muffles of “It’s only nine, how could she be tired”. It wasn’t my fault. Blame it on my hormones. Blame it on whatever you want, I no longer care. “Goodnight”, said Brigitte before she gingerly closed the door. “See you in the morning”, I lazily waved her out.

My bag had been neatly placed on the twin bed to the right of the room. That bed, with a velvet comforter, gray sheets, and velvet pillows, would be mine. The one opposite to the bed, following the same color schemes, would belong to Brigitte for as long as I would be staying. It was a nice color to pair. It certainly matched up with the rest of the room with the faint shade of red. The dark wood flooring placed the final touches towards setting the tone of the bedroom. I didn’t take a minute to admire the rest of the furniture inside of the bedroom. Not then, since It would be of no use to me at the moment. I let out an exhausted sigh. I didn’t know where my exhaustion was coming from, mental or physical. I opted for the mental just because of what took place earlier. I regretted coming after all. Everything went to hell the minute I arrived on the U.K. grass. I felt uncomfortable, didn’t want to cause any commotion, didn’t want to let loose, and I sure as hell didn’t want to hear about my parents getting a fucking divorce. The only person who really had my attention for the greater good was the boy Mick Jagger and I was only half certain that he was eighteen years of age. I sniffled, thinking of his attitude upon first seeing me. My pained chest felt a bit better with his image in mind to lay with me as I tried to sleep. He said that I'd do just fine over here and so far he proved himself to be a liar, Maybe I would look forward to the following days, for his sake,

My dropped my behind to the velvet. “It was bound to happen”, I raked my hair with my tender hand. Getting the knots out were more of a priority than anything else. “This was going to happen anyways- I should have seen this coming, I’m stupid. Stupid”. Talking to myself was also one of those more important priorities. Also tearing up, as I could feel them pricking in my eyes, burning my nose. The hand designated for untangling the knots swiped the tears away from underneath my eyes. I’ll cry later, I wanted to sleep now. A few deep breaths in, out, in, out. “...I’m okay”, I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Get dressed for bed”, I demanded myself to unzip the tweed suitcase, carve through the folded clothes and pick out my choice Bardot lace neckline nightdress with ribbons and of the shade blush because if I was going to cry myself to sleep I were to do it in style. I liked it because the top half was lace and the lower half was a silky material. I’ll slip and slide out of bed but at least I’ll look comfortable. My eyes were on fire when I undressed. The swiping away of the tears earlier did no justice in the long term. Barely even short term. My hair tousled around my face and I didn’t care. My first day away from home was a shit and I didn’t care. The tears were starting to stream and I didn’t care. I blindly removed the suitcase from off of the bed. My hands were my eyes, I felt my way into the bed and proceeded to cry in the light. Dammit. I aggravatedly threw the sheets away from my body and slapped the light switch off. Now, I proceeded to cry in the dark, patiently waiting for the following ninety-one days to be over.

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