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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

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Searching for Hidden Things (Ticci Toby X F!Reader)

Searching for Hidden Things

[Ticci Toby X F!Reader]

[Warnings: it's kinda sad? Language, blood but only slight.]

[AN: Another good one from Eris]

You are convinced that your home is haunted now more than ever. While you are not particularly ghost believer inclined, as a witch, your mind is open to these kinds of happenings but that’s not your field of study - you’re much more inclined to herbology and green witchery as opposed to medium and seership into other planes of existence. The natural, real world is what you are focused on. Not some spectre that happens to like little knickknacks that you don’t even claim ownership to.

How on earth did you end up here?

Simple. Fresh out of college and working from home, you decided to leave your stuffy city and come out to the countryside to get back into nature. It took forever to find a place that piqued your interest, but a small town smack dab in the middle of Alabama. You’re almost dead certain there’s barely five thousand people in the area. Though, you hardly stick around long enough to find out.

You only dip into town in the evenings and get the groceries that you can’t grow. Let’s just say you really enjoy living off the land and that practice helps you further your own craft. It’s anything a hedgewitch might dream of. The people that live here are pleasant, but they’re silent.

It was a normal evening visiting your favorite curiosity and occult shop run by a sweet girl and her partner who have come to expect you weekly on Saturdays. You usually stay for tea and a cupcake or whatever baked good Zinnia and Briar have set up for you, and it is from one of these little sit downs that you found out your home isn’t exactly normal.

“It’s so nice to see you again, love bug!” Briar smiles widely, their arms opening to greet you.

You smile back and walk into their arms and hug back just as tightly. “I could never miss tea time with my two favorite curio owners,” you chuckle.

Zinnia pops out from the back, her hands are covered by oven mitts. “I just made some brownies! Also have some angel food cake from last night. Come, come. Briar? Get the tea,” she says as she rushes to the back to set up the table in the sunroom.

Briar nods and puts their hand on your upper back, guiding you to the back. “My wife thought you would’ve liked the angel food cake. She’s been talking about it all night,” they explain, a giggle on their lips.

Zinnia is buzzing around like a bumble bee while her partner attempts to get her to sit down. She’s a good host, you’ll give her that. This is your fourth sit down with them and she’s like this every time.

“Reader isn’t going to care about the plates-” Briar attempts to say before getting shushed by Zinnia.

“I like being aesthetically pleasing,” she says as Briar absentmindedly ties her curly black hair into a ponytail. “Unlike you,” she giggles.

You roll your eyes playfully at their sweet gestures. “Aesthetically pleasing or not, those brownies and the cake look delicious.”

“See? Reader gets it,” Briar lightly ribs before bringing the tea to the table, Zinnia following close behind them with platters and plates. “So,” Briar hums. “How is your place?”

You begin pouring yourself some tea and shrug. “I don’t think I ever mentioned it to you, have I?”

The couple shake their heads as they get comfortable in their seats. “Where have you put your boots down?” Zinnia inquires.

“There’s this little house in the woods,” you begin to explain before sipping at your tea. “Had a great garden and was already furnished, asked the realtor and she practically threw it into my arms.” You put down your tea cup and cut a brownie for yourself before raising a brow at the couple’s shocked and slightly confused expressions. “What’s wrong?”

Briar blinks a few times before shaking their head. “It’s nothing! Just, it’s the house in the woods?”

You nod in confirmation. “The house in the west woods, near the pond with water lilies?” You continue in an attempt to further their understanding, getting the feeling there’s something you don’t know but should. “Guys..?”

“S-Sorry,” Zinnia suddenly says. “It’s just that…” Her eyes shift around for a few moments before she leans in close, as if she was telling you a secret. “That house is haunted.”

Your eyes go wide before you laugh. You laugh and laugh and then when you realize they’re silent, you blink. “Wait what? Why do you say that?”

“Someone used to live there a few years ago, we moved in after her… disappearance,” Briar explains. “She just,” Briar makes a poof shape with their hands, “like nothing. No trace, no leads, the house was empty but everything of theirs? Still there.”

“Who was the person that lived there before?” You ask, intrigue kicking up before you bite into the brownies and then try the angel food cake. Zinnia was right, you do like it.

Briar shrugs, “we don’t know. Whispers say it was the girl named Natalie. She kept to herself but from the people I’ve talked to so far - at least, those who would talk about it - said she was sweet and spunky.”

“Guy at the grocery store, Mr. Wu? He said that Natalie was his regular. They were friends,” Zinnia adds on. “He used to visit her house every now and then and said near the end, her behavior got kind of squirrely. One night, he went to visit her and saw her running. Of course, guy is like seventy, got scared and ran back home. Called the police over it. They got there? Nothing.”

You nod as you listen to them give out their theories on what might have happened to Natalie. It’s one of the most interesting things you’ve heard of since you moved in.

When you returned home, you couldn’t help but shake the thought you were a guest in what used to be Natalie’s home. Your hands flew over the slightly dusty shelves and found it wrong to really touch anything that might not be yours. There’s books about boring things, encyclopedias, general knowledge, young adult fiction, but nothing that tells you who she was.

As you stand with your arms crossed in your living room, you search for the things that were left from her. Your room is entirely yours, you’ve already managed to find a room and clear it out for your witchy things, the kitchen was empty and there is no basement. This house is small, more like a cottage. If there were any signs of who she was, they’re not easy at making themselves known.

All you have to go off of from her is the living room and is undoubtedly Natalie’s and not yours. The shelves and other knick knacks are things that don’t match your aesthetic at all. Seems she was fond of the color green, just not plants like you are.

It’s by the living room that you’re able to learn some things about Natalie, even if they’re minute. For instance, you can tell that either she likes costumes or she’s missing an eye due to a small box of eyepatches varying in color and design. She’s got a frew petal pressed flowers - tulips - and last you checked, that meant a declaration of love according to the standard Victorian language of flowers.

You know absolutely nothing about Natalie other than her name and that she may be missing an eye and that she has tulips, but she permeates your mind like a virus that refuses to go away. You’re entranced with her, and want to know more of her.

When you work on sigils, you make one for her and put it in the corners of the front windows and in the doorframe. You wonder if she’s out there, and if she is, if she’s safe. If she is, you hope the runes and sigils you’ve made for her will keep her that way.

One evening at the grocery store, you have the privilege of being able to speak to Mr. Wu when ringing up some craving you’ll know you’ll inevitably have.

“Natalie?” He hums as he rings up your items. “She was a nice girl,” he continues. “Very kind, had a good sense of humor.”

You furrow your brows and smile sympathetically at him. “I’m sorry for-”

“It’s no matter,” Mr. Wu brushes off. “I don’t know what happened to her, and I’d like to think she’s still out there,” he begins checking the register for the total. “I’d like to think that when she was running, it was towards better and away from whatever it was she couldn’t get here..” His old, weathered hand reaches out to show you the total on the screen. You notice he’s put on a 50% discount. “On me,” he smiles.

Ever since then, Natalie has consumed your thoughts entirely.

So, how does this all tie into a little sparrow figurine going missing? You think it’s haunted. Genuinely. Have you angered Natalie’s spirit by messing with her house? You’re not so sure. You don’t communicate with spirits, though you’re considering picking up a pendulum and attempting.

Ever since you’ve heard about Natalie, things in your house have been getting moved or straight up lifted. It doesn’t help that you hear, no, you think you hear, things outside lurking around your home. Spiritually, you’ve protected the place more than you think is necessary. The not deer, skinny legends and Wendy boys really shouldn’t be knocking around her mostly because the place is just one giant protective bubble. Still, as you sit up late in the night and look at the moon as it reflects the water from the pond and the peer through the darkness of the trees that hang much too low, you know something is out there that shouldn’t be.

This has all come to a head when you wake up one morning to see that the sparrow figurine is gone. It makes you startle and almost drop your mug in response.

“How the hell..?” You say as you stare at the empty space. Its little circular base has left the real shade of the wood it sits on open. The dust has accumulated around it. You saw it here just yesterday! Little brown and tan sparrow and now it’s gone.

On instinct, you open your front door. It was still locked, and it doesn’t seem that anyone came in. But you know that you didn’t move it either. You haven’t touched any of Natalie’s things, you wouldn’t because you’re worried you’re going to upset her spirit or something. Who took it?

Unfortunately, that’s not even the first time it’s happened. A few days later, the little robin is gone too. Now you are absolutely convinced your home is haunted.

Of course, you call up one of your friends who also practices witchcraft like you do to see what you can do about making amends with a spirit. He’s a death witch - he should know.

“Wait what?” He says, his voice conveying nothing but confusion.

“You heard me,” you sigh as you plop down on the couch. “I think she’s been like, taking things because she doesn’t trust me with them?” You say in a slightly confused tone.

“But you really haven’t moved anything in the living room, right? From the pictures you sent me, you left that space as hers. She shouldn’t be upset considering you never touched her stuff.”

“But these figurines are still missing. How did they just get up and go?” You ask in a slightly exasperated tone, staring at the empty space.

“Y’know what you should try?” He begins, a small audible smile on his face. “Find something personal of hers and return it to her. Maybe she’s looking for something and is just settling.”

“Do you have a protocol for that or..?” You trail off.

“I’ll send you a page from my grimoire, sounds good?”

Here you are, late at night, not able to sleep and looking for something personal of hers. You don’t think it’s anything out in the open that she wants because why would she want that? It’s in her line of sight. You’ve practically turned up your home looking for it - her home? You’re not sure what kind of terminology you should use in regards to this house, but you know you’re hellbent on finding something, anything of importance to her home.

“Come on, Natalie,” you mumble to yourself as you head to your bedroom and begin overturning things. “I just need something of yours, help me make it make sense,” you say. “Natlie, Natalie, Nat, Nat-” and immediately after that nickname tumbles from your lips, you get the overwhelming urge to check under your bed.

Like a mad woman, you dive down to the floor and begin pulling your storage boxes out from under it. One of them snags slightly, and when you tug on it, you pull. Odd. You tug even harder. That’s when part of the carpet comes up. You raise your brow and shove the box out of the way before crawling under yourself and use the flashlight on your phone. It’s dark, a little dusty under here, but you clearly know someone has been under here before.

Your fingertips creep around the edge of the odd piece of carpet before you pull it up, seeing that it’s already been cut up. And there, you feel a handle.

“Oh my gods,” you mumble creeping further under the bed before yanking at the small handle. It doesn’t give right away. In fact, it makes you bump your head from the sheer force of trying to open it. It’s almost as if it was a secret and you’re violating the parties who knew it existed. Still, you continue to tug on it before it finally pops open. You move your phone over to see that there’s a box with the lid loosely placed on. Your hand gently reaches in and scoops the box up. You hold it like it’s glass. “Thank you, Natalie, thank you,” you mumble as you roughly and awkwardly crawl out from back under the bed.

You sit on your bedroom floor now, your phone now forgotten as your fingertips gently trace the box. You mentally ask for Natalie’s permission to open it and when you get the feeling of something warm, like a hug, you do so. Inside the box that you gingerly open, you see that there are letters, letters upon letters in a writing addressed to her.

“Can I read these, Natalie?” You ask softly, your eyes scanning over the one you hold in your hand dates from a few years ago. You feel that warm hug again, and the night alights with songs from the birds on the pond. You know you have her permission.

‘March 16, 20XX. Dear Natalie, how are you? I just wanted to apologize for the other day. I shouldnt have left that soon, but you know hoy my dad is. Anyways, just wanted to check in. Hope to see you soon.’

‘March 22, 20XX. Dear Natalie, I wasn’t actually expecting you to get back to me after what happened! I - thank you. Things have been just fine with me, but I miss being in Alabama. No reason, just miss the woods by your place.’

‘May 5th, 20XX. It’s funny you mentioned that, I saw something last night that reminded me of you too. Y’know how you’re always going on about time and being punctual? The other day, me and my comrades were walking through an antique store. Whole bunch of clocks. Made me think of you:).’

You keep reading the letters and piecing together the story of these two as it picks up through the years as general friendship to something more. This person that Natalie was writing to told them a lot of things - everything from the general happenings of the day to more quieter, intimate things (that you tend to skip over out of respect for Natalie.)

Reading the letters to Natalie becomes a daily occurrence for you. There’s so many that you decide it wouldn’t be right to read them all in one day. So, you read two a night and piece together their story, learning of their love and finding out just who they were. Natalie left some letters that she never sent to her love, mostly the ones that she must have considered duds or the angry ones that she decided not to send when her fire had died down. What? All couples go through those patches. It’s whether you can fix it and get back on the road or hitchhike with another driver that determines the outcome. And them? They loved each other so much, looking at another driver to get to their destination was never an option.

It takes months for you to get through the letters. Even reading two a day, it’s hard to get through a few years worth of content. They wrote to each other often. You’re able to see the full spectrum of emotions from them two, even if you’re on;y reading the letters addressed TO Natalie and not from her (for the most part). You read them smiling, and can hear their tears alongside their laughter. They no longer feel like names on paper, but real, once breathing people.

Eventually, you reach a letter that finally completes the story as you know it. It’s dated from right around the time you know Zinnia and Briar moved in. It explains a lot.

You know that whoever Natalie’s love was working for was NOT a good man. He struck the fear of the gods into them. He was called ‘The Operator’ and apparently had eyes everywhere despite being faceless. The way Natalie’s love writes about him has you feeling chills down your spine. Them too, because it was enough for them to want to run away. Natalie’s love was called a proxy, and from what you can understand, that means he’s a person who does work for someone else because they don’t want to get directly involved. The Operator treats those who work under him like cattle, and nothing more. He was a scary, scary man, and the society he runs is one you know is not intertwined with yours.

The letter that’s in your hands is the last one before their escape it seems.

‘August 31st, 2018. Dear Nat, are you nervous? I’m nervous - you can probably tell by my writing. Tonight we leave everything behind. We run. I hope you know that it’s never too late for you to back out. Because after this, we can never go back to what we used to. I’m so sorry that being around that tall fuck-but did this to you - and shit, by extension, me. I’m so sorry for hurting you, but this is it. This is it. This is the final stop.

Who knew that me striking up a conversation with a cute girl behind the counter of some hippy’s coffee shop would lead to a love like ours? You mean the world to me, Nat. I’m more and more thankful every day that I think about you and receiving your letters has me up to the moon. If you asked me about this kind of thing before I met you, I would have told you that I would never have gotten rid of the proxy lifestyle for a human. Humans are… Well, according to the Operator, they’re dangerous. They’re not worth us.

But you? Oh gods, you? You changed everything. You made it worthwhile. You came into my life like a splash of color in a world so grey and cold and bathed me in warmth until I could reciprocate your love and make room for it to grow. I love you, Natalie. I love you so, so much. After tonight, we won’t ever have to worry about this - the space and the distance between us. No more hiding. No more secrets. Just us and our transparency.

I love you, Natalie. I love you so, so much. I’ll see you tonight, backdoor as per what is our usual. To the moon and back! Love, Toby.’

You don’t know why, but Toby’s letter makes you tear up. It’s like you can feel exactly how Natalie must’ve felt when she received it. The tears that prick your eyes roll down your cheeks and you can’t help but take a few moments. You’d always known their story ended with something sad due to the whispers in the town, but getting confirmation that Natalie ran… It didn’t work. It just didn’t work.

You’re wiping away your tears when you hear your backdoor get thrown open. No one comes out to your neck of the woods, and it makes you panic. You can’t find your phone - dang it! Must’ve left it in the kitchen. You scramble around your room as you hear whoever just broke into your house walk confidently without a care in the world to the living room.

“W-Who the f-fuck lives here n-now?” You hear a male voice mutter as they pass your bedroom door. “A-All this w-w-witchy shit,” they continue.

You mentally huff. Rude. You then quietly slink around before grabbing a large chunk of amethyst. It’s rough to the touch and weighty, and unfortunately, one of the only things you have as a weapon now. Your heart is pounding as you quietly move through your hallway to the living room.

“Where i-is it?” He continues mumbling to himself as he tears your living room apart.

You’re able to see him by the faint light of the moon. He’s got brown hair and twitches slightly. Is he nervous? He’s still tearing up your living room though and touching Natalie’s things, and that's unforgivable in your head. So, you raise your chunk of amethyst pillar and quietly creep behind him.

He turns around to look at you, genuinely surprised someone is here when you whack him as hard as you can with the chunk of amethyst. “Are y-you fucking s-serious?!” He yells as he pushes you back.

You look at him with confusion as you back up, still clutching the amethyst before you notice that he didn’t react in the way he should. You hit him really, really hard and in the back of the head. He’s back up and glaring at you like you mildly inconvenienced him. And now? Now he’s pissed and looking at you like he’s going to kill you. You notice that he has hatchets on the sides of his waist.

“C-Come here,” he taunts, eyes narrowed and slowly closing the distance between you.

“Stop,” you shout in an attempt to command him back. “I will hit you-”

“With t-that?” He sneers.

“I swear to the gods I will-”

He looks like he’s ready to pounce when he suddenly stops, a certain sadness and pause rushing over his body and his face as he looks at the letters in your hand. You’d honestly forgotten you were still holding them.

“Where d-did you g-g-g-get those?” He asks quietly, his shoulder dropping.

“What?” You ask, surprised he can do an impression of a human being.

“Those l-letters! They’re n-not yours!” You pull back hard when he tries to grab them from you and swing the amethyst at him and sneer when he ducks. “They’re not yours either!”

“T-The hell t-they aren’t! I-I wrote t-t-them!” He shouts back.

You immediately deflate. “You’re Toby?”

He freezes and flails his arms slightly as if to ask nonverbally, ‘you read those?’

You sigh deeply and rest your hand on your forehead before you rest your arms down slowly, showing that you’re not going to fight him. It’s a pleasant surprise that he slowly copies your movements. “Do you know how a keurig works?”

He nods slowly.

“Make us some coffee. We got a lot to talk about.”

“So, t-t-that’s why you’re here,” Toby hums as he dumps another unholy amount of sugar into his coffee cup. “I-I thought y-you were some s-squatter in Nat’s h-house,” he admits with a small chuckle before scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck.

You take in a small breath and nod, a small smile pulling your lips upwards. “This is what you were looking for, huh?” You say as you push the box full of memories towards him.

He puts the cup down and takes it into his hands carefully before hugging it to his chest. He then takes in a deep breath, relaxing. “Y-Yes, this is t-them,” he says quietly. “That’s a-a-all I really w-wanted.”

“And the little figurines?” You hum, a knowing smirk on your face.

Toby flushes slightly and nods once more. “T-They just r-r-reminded me o-of her.” He then places the box in front of him and leans back, his eyes blinking upwards towards the ceiling before he stares up at the ceiling. “I lost h-her that n-night,” he says, voice so soft and scared as if he’s reliving it.

“Toby…”

“That w-w-was our thing, y-y’know? W-We were gonna b-b-be free. My b-b-boss found out,” Toby hisses as he picks one of the letters up and gestures with it, “a-and he s-sent my own c-comrades to…” He closes his eyes to stop the tears from welling within them.

Natalie was grabbing her backpack from her room with everything important when Toby came to the doorway and smiled at her. “What’re you doing here?” She chuckled, her green eye flashing with amusement. “Thought you were gonna be getting stuff ready in the kitchen and watching the door.”

“Just d-don’t like being a-a-away from you,” Toby said, a small smirk on his face as he came up to Natalie and brushed a long strand of brown hair from her face. “You’re s-s-such a p-pretty girl,” he complimented.

Natalie blushed slightly and took his hand that rested on her cheek into hers. “Go. I’ll be fine in here.”

“W-Whatever you s-say, p-princess,” he teased before pressing a kiss to her forehead and hesitantly leaving her side.

Natalie rolled her eyes with that smile never leaving her face as she continued getting the last of her things ready for the leave. When she was absolutely certain she was ready to go, she slid the backpack on and headed to the living room. She was ready to go and start a new life with Toby, the only man who ever made her heart skip a beat.

“Are you ready?” She asked, her arms wrapping around Toby’s waist as he finished his cup of coffee.

“S-Sure am,” he replied before turning around and wrapping her in his arms. “You g-gonna miss t-t-this place?”

“Absolutely not,” Natalie laughed. “I can’t wait to get out-”

What happened next was pure chaos. The back and front door were both breached by men in masks, and Natalie quickly deduced that they were Toby’s comrades. His boss found out. Toby reached for the front table and palmed his hatchets and swung them at the man in the white mask.

“Run!” Toby shouted, pushing Natalie towards the open front door. He watched his heart run out and shake off the backpack to gain speed as she took off into the night. Masky hit him, but he did not flinch.

“Fucking hell, Toby!” A gruff voice shouted.

The young proxy then watched in horror as a flash of yellow zipped out into the night to chase after Natalie. Toby felt worry cloud hsi every movement as he dodged and hit Masky. Hoodie’s specialty was tracking and hunting. He had to get out there to help Natalie.

Toby took a step back then ran into Masky as hard as he could, slamming his leader into the floor before attempting to brutalize, but not kill him. When he was sure that Masky was going to need a moment, he shot up and sprinted out of the house and into the darkened forest to find Natalie. He must’ve prayed the entire time he ran.

He ran over the heavy forest growth and cursed the roots that almost tripped him before he felt his world go quiet.

Natalie was screaming.

Toby heard his name cried out in the trees and his heart sunk down to the forest floor as he ran wildly to the source. He felt hot tears as they rolled down his cheeks as he finally found that same damned hue of yellow waiting for him.

“Was wondering when you’d show up,” Hoodie mused as he dug his boot onto Natalie’s skull, making her cry out in pain and fear. Her arms reached out for Toby, his name permanently on her lips.

“You f-fucking bastard!” Toby roared as he lurched forward, attempting to beat Hoodie within an inch of his life when something hard smacked into the back of his head. Toby turned around to see Masky. His brown eyes were full of murder as he stalked towards Toby.

“I should kill you for this,” Masky sneered as he got within arm’s distance of Toby.

Toby glared and swung his hatchet again at Masky, now out for blood when Hoodie slammed his boot back into Natalie’s skull, a crack sending Toby into a fury.

“You won’t touch him if you know what’s good for you,” Hoodie said, his hands loosely hung in his pockets. “Leave him alone and focus on your girl.”

Toby felt chills down his spine as he turned his full attention to Natalie. “My g-g-girl,” he whispered as he fell to his knees to hold her. “M-My s-sweet, sweet g-girl.” His hands shoved Hoodie off of her skull, giving her room to breathe. After that, he turned her over on her back as she cried out in pain. He rested her head on his lap and let her sob.

“Toby,” she croaked in a voice like sandpaper. “Toby, it hurts,” she cried, hands reaching out to his face.

“I know,” he said as he gripped her hand. “I k-know, baby, I k-know.” Tears were pouring from his eyes just to see someone he loved in such pain. “It’ll b-be over soon, I p-promise.” His other hand that wasn’t being gripped by Natalie’s went to pet her hair and give her some comfort.

“Over real soon,” Masky huffed. “You better finish this.” Masky continued. “Or I’ll make Hoodie put a bullet in her skull.”

Toby sent another glare up to Masky and protectively held onto Natalie just a bit harder to not cause her physical body anymore pain.

“We need to run,” Natalie whispered as she reached up to hold Toby’s face. “We can still go-”

Toby hushed her as his eyes scanned over her body. She was beyond repair. Hoodie had broken her legs and bent them at angles that should not exist. “You n-need to r-rest, okay? W-We’ll go in t-t-the morning, I p-promise.”

“You do?” She asked, her beautiful green eye beginning to see the world more in shapes than in

“Y-Yes,” Toby promises. “Have I e-e-ever broken a p-promise to y-you?” He hummed before leaning down as best he could to kiss her forehead. “I l-love you, s-so, so m-much.”

Natalie sleepily giggled and allowed her tears to cascade down her face. “I love you too. To the moon and back?”

“T-To the moon a-a-and back,” he said as the grip she held on his hand weakened.

“Toby, my Toby,” she said softly, her voice growing softer as she repeated the words like a mantra. When her breathing slowed until it was nothing, her hand went limp in Toby’s.

Toby closed his eyes as his heart fell into millions of pieces. He refused to let Natalie go that night, and his teammates, who had acted on behalf of a father who did not love them, let him.

“A p-part of m-me died with h-her that night,” Toby says as he lovingly looks over the letters. “I still c-can’t breathe r-right without her.” He closes his eyes and allows his tears to fall. “I d-don’t think I e-e-ever will.”

You get up from your seat and pick it up, silently moving it to rest next to Toby as he begins to cry. You know he must’ve held this one in for so, so long. After planting your chair down next to him, you take him into your arms and allow him to cry.

Toby holds onto you and doesn’t let go. It’s like he views you as a comfort blanket or a teddy bear. And you let him. You let him get it all out.

You feel tears well in your eyes and let them fall too.

#ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #angst #toby creepypasta #reader insert #clockwork #natalie ouellette

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fred-george-fic · 4 years

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In the Middle Pt. 5

Cedric x Reader & George x Reader (Eventually)

A/N: Thank you so so much for all of the support! I love making this series and am glad to share it with all of you. (George’s face in the Weasley twins gif is for sure how he looks when he sees you).

Summary: It’s time for the Yule Ball & Christmas!

Pairing(s): Cedric x Reader & George x Reader (eventually)

Word Count: 2.5k

Masterlist: ~Part 1~Part 2~Part 3~Part 4~

Warnings: none! (italics= letter or note) Y/F/I= your first initial

The Yule Ball

A few weeks later, Professor McGonagall has gathered everyone from Gryffindor and separated everyone with boys on one side and girls on the other.

“The Yule Ball has been a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament since its inception. On Christmas night we and our guests gather in the Great Hall for a night of well-mannered frivolity. I expect you all to be on your best behavior, because the Yule Ball is first and foremost a dance.” McGonagall began scanning the room as the girls begin to chat excitedly while the boys instantly groan.

Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell instantly start chatting happily to you about the dance. “And you’re going to get to go with Cedric Diggory!” Angelina said excitedly.

“You’re assuming he’s going to ask me.” You laugh.

“Of course he is! He’s your boyfriend after all.” Katie says. “I just hope someone will ask me.”

“Of course someone will.” You reassure her.

“Silence!” McGonagall says, instantly quieting the room. “The house of Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the wizard world for nearly ten centuries. I will not have you in the course of a single evening, besmirching that name by behaving like a babbling bumbling band of baboons.”

You see George whisper something to Fred for both of them to start saying “Babbling Bumbling Band of Baboons” at each other, and begin to quietly laugh.

“-Mr. Weasley. Will you join me please?” McGonagall continues. You notice Ron getting up from his seat, looking absolutely mortified. You make eye contact with George, who mid-laugh stops and takes in a deep breath of air. You stare at each other for a moment before Fred grabs his attention. They begin mock dancing and whisper something to Harry.

“Everyone come together! Boys on your feet!” McGonagall shouts, all the girls get up, but the boys just sit there and look embarrassed. Neville Longbottom gets up and asks Ginny to dance with him. The two of them begin dancing next to McGonagall and Ron. “I will start taking away house points!” McGonagall threatens, prompting the rest of the boys to start asking partners.

Both Fred and George approach you quickly. You think for a moment, and whisper in Fred’s ear. “Go ask Angelina.” He nods his head, understanding what you’re doing and begins dancing with her.

“Care to dance, Y/N? Or are you going to send me off into the arms of another woman as well?” He asks putting out his arms.

You quickly take them and begin dancing together. “Not quite. Although, if you need someone to ask to the ball, Katie Bell is worried no one will ask her. Fred had expressed to me his interest in Angelina in quidditch, so I thought I’d give him a nudge.” You smile, looking over at Fred and Angelina laughing together. “You however, have never told me of any interest in specific girls.”

“Well, I guess I really haven’t had any.” He looks at you, for a moment too long. Then he quickly looks over at Katie who is dancing with Lee. “Maybe I’ll ask Katie though. She’s always been nice in quidditch. Plus, she’s friends with Angelina, which would make it easier.”

“I think she’s a nice choice.” You smile and continue dancing. George wasn’t the most experienced dancer, but you both had a lot of fun laughing while you did it together.

“You all are dismissed for today!” McGonagall shouted, allowing all the students to leave.

Fred and George met back up and began chatting about asking girls to the ball. George looked back at you, “Are you coming, Y/N?”

“Sorry, I am supposed to meet up with Cedric. But, I’ll meet you for dinner?” You wave at them as they walk away, letting out a small sigh.

Once you were out of earshot, Fred and George began a conversation, unknown to you. “I’m going to ask Angelina to the dance.” Fred says. “Are you going to ask someone, George?”

George looks back in the direction you went and sighs. “Yeah, Katie Bell.”

“But, you want to ask Y/N? But, she’s with Cedric and that would be completely out of line?” Fred looks at his twin with a frown. George just nodded his head not wanting to continue this conversation.

-------

You found Cedric coming out of the same type of meeting, down the corridor a bit. Once he saw you, he said goodbye to his friends and began walking towards you. “Hello, love.” He says wrapping you into a tight hug.

You wrap your arms around him and look up. “Did you have to dance too?” You asked, looking at him.

“Yeah, with Hannah Abbot. Professor Sprout wasn’t much for showing us how, so we sort of just figured it out ourselves.” He laughed, planting a kiss on your forehead. “I wanted to talk to you about the ball actually?”

“Come to tell me you want to ask someone else?”

“Well-“ He thinks for a moment, looking away from you. You start to back up from him, but he catches you. “I’m kidding!” He begins laughing, pulling you towards him.

“Ced!” You attempt to wiggle out of his arms, but he’s holding you firmly.

“Y/N, would you do me the honor of attending the Yule Ball with a Triwizard champion?” He asks with a huge smile on his face.

“Oh, is Harry looking for a date?” You tease, joining in on his laughter. “Cedric, I would love to go to the ball with you.” He grabs onto you tightly, pulling you close and kissing you deeply. Once he pulls away, you both smile.

“Ready for Herbology?” You ask holding your hand out for him. He grabs it kissing you quickly, and heading off in the direction of the Greenhouse.

--------

During the next week, you were sitting in study hall next to Fred and George. You watch as Fred scribbles out a note a passes it to Ron:

Get a move on or all the good ones will have gone

Ron looks at Fred and mouths, “Who’re you going with, then?”

Fred holds up one finger, crumples up a piece of paper and throws it at Angelina, who turns her head slowly and glares. Fred points at her, then himself and makes a dancing motion. Angelina smiles and nods her head causing him to wink at Ron. He turns to Hermione and says “So, Hermione, you’re a girl?”

“Well spotted.” She says continuing writing her notes.

“It’s one thing for a bloke to show up alone. For a girl, it’s just sad.” You see Harry’s eyes get wide as the words come out of Ron’s mouth.

Hermione instantly looks up, glaring at him. “I won’t be going alone because, believe it or not, someone’s asked me!” She whispers loudly, grabbing her notebook, handing it to Professor Snape and running out.

“You’ve really done it this time, Ron.” You said, handing your book to Snape and following her out. You head towards the Gryffindor common room and notice Hermione sitting inside on the couch. “Don’t listen to him, Hermione.” You say wrapping your arm around her.

“He’s just so infuriating!” She slams her book down on the table. “If he was really so concerned, he should’ve just asked me himself!”

“If only boys were smart enough to think like that.” You said with a small laugh. “Who’s your date?”

“Promise not to tell?” She looks at you.

“Promise.” You put a cross over your heart.

“Victor Krum.” She blushes heavily.

“Victor Krum! I knew he’s been eyeing you ever since he got here!” You excitedly hug her. Suddenly, George and Fred walk in with Ron and Harry in tow. As soon as Hermione sees Ron she excuses herself and heads up to her dormitory.

“George asked Katie to the ball!” Fred shouts as he plops down on the couch next to you.

“He did?” You look over at George who is visibly embarrassed about the entire situation.

“And she said yes.” Harry adds in, taking a seat nearby.

“Congratulations, George!” You cheer, but once you make eye contact with him you notice that he isn’t smiling. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great.” He says but there’s no recognizable emotion in his face. Before you can protest, he begins to walk upstairs. You look over at Fred and he just shrugs and follows up after him.

-----

The morning of December 25th was usually your favorite. Typically, you would spend it at the Burrow with the Weasley family. But, since the Yule Ball was this year, everyone was spending the holidays at Hogwarts. However, when mail came in the morning, there was a specific gift for each Weasley kid, Harry, and you. You opened the package carefully, reading the note Molly left inside.

Y/N,

Happy Christmas! I talked with your mother yesterday, you will be accompanying the boys and Ginny here again for the Summer if you would like.

With Love,

Molly Weasley

You open your gift, revealing a blue jumper with a large yellow Y/F/I on the front, which matched Fred and George’s. Your face broke into a wide smile as you slipped it over your head, putting it on. You see the boys and Ginny following suit.

“I’ve never seen someone so happy to be putting on a Weasley jumper.” Ron says looking down at his with a grimace.

“Did mom send you a letter?” George asks picking up the piece of paper on the table.

“Your parents aren’t coming back again?” Fred asks reading the paper over George’s shoulder.

“Did you two really think my mother would stop traveling with her husband long enough to acknowledge that she has a child?” You look at both of them and shrug. “He hates magic anyways and we’ll be seventeen by that time, meaning we can use magic outside of school.”

George nods his head in understanding. “You can use magic around our house all you want.” You smile at him and begin to start eating breakfast.

-------

After breakfast, you spend some time in the common room with Hermione studying together before getting ready for the ball. You both begin to get ready together, helping each other along the way. You change into a light blue sheer dress that has flowers embroidered on it. As the light hits it, there’s a faint shimmer. You also put your hair in a half-up half-down style. You look over at Hermione, who’s wearing a beautiful ombre pink ruffled dress.

“Wow, Hermione! You look amazing!” You say admiring her dress.

“Me? Look at you!” She motions to your dress. “Cedric is going to be speechless.” You smile at her and the two of you begin walking towards the Great Hall together.

As you begin walking down the steps with Hermione, you notice everyone left in the hall way is looking at you both. You make eye contact with George, who stares at you for a long moment before offering you a small wave. You give it back to him and scan the hall until your eyes land on Cedric. He was in the middle of a conversation, but immediately stopped the moment he saw you. Victor approaches first, offering his arm to Hermione, who smiles and takes it. Cedric is close behind, offering you his arm, which you kindly take.

“You look absolutely stunning.” He says walking towards the doors to the Great Hall.

You blush slightly, looking over at Cedric. “You are incredibly handsome tonight yourself.” You kiss him on the cheek as Professor McGonagall starts putting you in the correct order. You and Cedric are third in line, behind Hermione and Victor but in front of Harry and Cho.

As you walk into the hall, everyone begins clapping loudly. Cedric leans towards you, “I seriously cannot get over how gorgeous you are.” He smiles at you as you take the dance floor together.

The song begins causing you to forget about all the people staring at you. In this moment, it’s just you and Cedric enjoying a dance together, everything else just seems to fade away. Cedric’s smile continues as you two dance together. For the first time since Cedric put his name in the Goblet of Fire, you’re not worried about the tournament. At this moment, you were enjoying a dance with a boy like any normal witch could do. As the song ended, you noticed that others had joined the champions on the dance floor. You curtsy to Cedric and he offers you a bow. Instantly, the Weird Sisters start playing “Do the Hippogriff”, igniting cheers from the crowd followed by more dancing.

-------

As the night continued on, you and Cedric continued to dance together. Eventually, he went off to get a drink and you found the Weasley twins sitting on two chairs having a conversation. “Excuse me boys? It seems you’re missing your third part member?” You try to make your voice sound different to try and confuse them.

“Yeah, well she-“ George began before looking up at you. “Y/N?”

“Well, don’t you two look sophisticated.” You say with a wide grin, taking a seat next to George.

“We clean up good, don’t we?” Fred slightly fixed his dress robes and smirked at you.

“Where are Katie and Angelina?” You ask, noticing the two boys didn’t have their dates.

“They’re getting snacks.” George said pointing towards the Great Hall doors. He looks back at you, staring at you for a moment. “You look great, Y/N.” George says, trying to seem nonchalant.

Fred nods in agreement. “Yeah, it looks like all three of us know how to clean up!”

You laugh and as you look back at the doors you notice Cedric walking back in. “Well, goodnight boys. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You wave at them and head back towards Cedric.

Once your back is turned, George throws his head in his hands. “She looks bloody gorgeous, Fred!”

“Well, you better pull it together, mate. Katie and Angelina are coming back.” Fred says watching their dates return. “Welcome back, ladies.”

You reach Cedric and he wraps you into a warm embrace. “I wish this night could last forever.”

“Me too. How about one more dance? A slow one?” You ask.

“I would be delighted.” He grabs your hand leading you to the dance floor for the final dance of the evening. You sway to the music together, kissing him softly as the song ends. His face immediately forming into a wide smile.

Cedric walks you back to your common room, kissing you again before saying goodbye and walking back to his own common room. You slide inside the door, noticing a few stragglers who either didn’t attend the ball or had recently come back. You look around to see if George and Fred are around, but when you see they aren’t you head up to your dorm. You change your clothes, putting your Christmas jumper back on and crawl into bed.

-------

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hateswifi · 4 years

Text

Rising from the Ashes: Of Bullies and Best Friends

So this story is based on this post by @legendaryhumanskeletonkid I took this idea and kinda changed it without further ado... Part 1. Master List

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

“All of Paris is invited to a gala that will be held at the hotel this Saturday from six-thirty to ten o’clock. This is a fundraiser gala for natural disasters and a partial celebration for the defeat of Hawkmoth Paris’ previous tormentor,” Mayor Bourgeois announces, looking over the crowd.

Marinette had been sitting on her family’s couch designing as the mayor finished his speech. She had been invited as Ladybug and wouldn’t be attending as Marinette. She did not need to make a dress and had already changed her costume for a more grown-up look.

A year or two after she started being the spotted hero, she decided to change up costume as of now her costume was red from her hips to her shoulder blades with black spots strategically placed, along with black knee-high boots that had three spots on her knees, her hand were adorned with fingerless gloves with one red spot on the back of each hand, the rest of her body was covered in her original red with black spots. She had also started putting her now mid-back long hair up in a bun to keep it out of her face as she worked or as her superhero persona. Needless to say, she loves her new look.

By this point in time, Adrien and Marinette became best friends, especially after the reveal. Adrien is happily dating Kagami after Marinettehad set them up. She is one of the few people who knew about Kagami and Adrien’s relationship and is happy for both of her friends. She had lost feelings for Adrien when he had told her to take the high road with Lila’s lying problem. He stopped talking and pushing to take the high road bull after he had to comfort Ladybug to stop her from getting akumatized. He realized someone was getting hurt and it was his Lady, his best friend.

He couldn’t directly stand up to her due to his father, but he would point out a lack of consistency in her lies. He was also an emotional support system for her during the times when Lila was too terrible. He always has Marinette and Kagami’s favorite ice-cream in the mini fridge-freezer combo he had in his room. He also has a playlist of movies for the group watches when they get together. Marinette, Kagami, Adrien, Chloe, and Luka have become family in everything but blood.

Marinette sighs, being brought back to the present by her parents entering the kitchen.

“Hey sweetie, what was the mayor’s announcement?” Sabine asked, sitting down next to her petite daughter.

“He is holding a fundraiser gala as a celebration for Hawkmoth’s defeat and for other natural disasters. All the heroes are invited as a thank you and probably to help raise more money,” Marinette summed up while her mother hugged her.

“That’s great, sweetheart! Are you going to go?” Tom asked, sitting down on the other side of his daughter.

“I haven’t decided yet but I don’t think I will,” Marinette answered.

“Why not sweetie?” Sabine asked, looking at her daughter, eyes filled with concern. Sabine had noticed her daughter's classmates had stopped coming by the house and she is worried for her daughter's social life.

“I don’t know I just don’t want to go to a stuffy gala,” she answered, standing up. “but don’t worry about me, you guys go have fun. Enjoy yourselves, you both deserve it."

“I think we will, what day is it?” Sabine asked, standing up as well.

“It’s this upcoming Saturday,” Marinette answered.

“But today is Thursday. That doesn’t leave us much time to find and wash the formal clothes,” Tom said, standing as well.

“Ok mama and papa I’ll leave you to that, I’m going to head to bed. Goodnight I love you both," Marinette said, leaving to go upstairs to her room

“Tikki, are you ready for patrol?” Marinette said, looking for her little red friend.

“Let’s go Marinette!” Tikki said, coming down from the bed Marinette had made her.

“Tikki, Spots on,” Marinette said, going through her transformation. Then she jumped out of her balcony trap door and flew across the rooftops towards the set meeting place, the Eiffel Tower.

“Hey Chaton, Queenie. Sorry that I’m late, my parents were asking about the gala,” she said, landing beside her partners.

“It's fine LB you deserve a break after today though,” Queen Bee said, looking at her once rival turned friend.

“I’m fine,” Ladybug started before Chat cut in. “No, you shouldn’t have to be fine. You should be feeling great I can’t believe she accused you of such a thing,” Chat pouted, crossing his arms.

Ladybug sighed and looked over the city thinking back to what had happened earlier that day in class.

Lila had walked into school with a black eye and bruised cheek, probably makeup. Once she had everyone around her and Marinette, who had made it a habit of arriving at class on time, walked in Lila started crying her crocodile tears. “M.. Marinette how co.. could you show your fa...face after what you did to me?” Lila stuttered out between the crocodile tears.

“What do you mean?” Adrien asked before Marinette could respond to the accusations.

“She was jealous over our friendship, Adrien, so she attacked me after we hung out yesterday,” Lila cried, hiding her face in Alya’s welcoming embrace.

“By ‘hung out’ you mean you hanging all over me during the photoshoot I was forced to go to,” Adrien deadpanned, putting air quotes around ‘hung out’.

“Adrien, how could you say that when she’s in this condition?” Alya raged, looking at Marinette and Adrien as she continued to rub Lila’s back comfortingly. “Marinette you gotta stop being so jealous!”

“That’s funny because Marinette and I went out for ice cream with Adrien, Luka, and Kagami after Adrien’s torture his father calls a photoshoot,” Chloe stepped in.

“How do we know you aren’t lying?” Alya asked, standing tall. “You, Chloe, are just as much of a bully as Marinette is.”

“Because,” Marinette stepped in. “We saw you there yesterday. Remember? You and Nino had a date.”

“That is true, babe as we were leaving they were just getting there,” Nino stated towards his girlfriend.

“Then you must have slapped her after that because we all know you have a huge crush on Adrien,” Alya defended a smirk spreading across her face.

“Alya, if you had talked to me sometime in the last two years without yelling at me then you would know that I see him just as a friend,” Marinette said, crossing her arms.

“Awww, Buginette, I thought we were best friends,” Adrien pouted.

“Not the time, Adrien,” Chloe said. “Also why would Lila just bring it up now? Why didn’t she talk to the principal before this?”

“I..” Lila started then cried more while answering. “I thought she would do something worse.”

“This girl wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Adrien defended, knowing that not to be true. He had seen her do some serious damage. The bell rung before anyone could say anything else but by the glares that Marinette kept receiving she could tell people weren’t happy with her over the accusations.

“Buginette, are you sure you’re ok? Queenie and I don’t mind taking this patrol by ourselves,” Chat offered, looking at his long-time friend.

“Mar, you can tell us what the matter is. Even with Hawkmoth defeated we’re still here for you,” Queen said, patting her shoulder.

“I just don’t understand how they can trust someone they barely know over me, their childhood friend,” Ladybug answered, looking into the distance.

“Her lies seem as sweet as honey, but they’re going to sting when the lies bumble,” Queenie punned. Chat looked at her in astonishment.

“Did you just—?“ Chat started.

“Nope Chlo you can’t join him. There are only so many puns people can deal with,” Ladybug said with a laugh. “I can’t wait to see the day her lies will fall.”

They sat there for the duration of the patrol, Paris would be safe for the night. Ladybug needs the heroes’ help more. After her friends had helped her relax she had fallen asleep, Chat took the liberty of taking her home. She needed more sleep with the stress of school, Ladybug, and now going to the gala. Adrien wasn’t going to go as Adrien, but as Chat Noir. He was personally invited as Chat, which he’s thankful for. He can now spend time with his girlfriend and not have to deal with Lila.

As Adrien put his Buginette in her bed and tucked her in he stared for a moment and thought back to a day not too long ago when he thought he had lost her.

It had been a long fight every one of the heroes, even with their strong stamina, were becoming tired. Especially Marinette taking more hits than any of the other heroes, not wanting them, rest of her friends, to be hurt. After hours of fighting, they were in Hawkmoth’s lair now at this point after he had run near the end of his transformation. This had led them to his own house at that moment he knew his lady had been right almost three years ago.

His friends turned to look at him. He looked at them and felt the bile rising in his throat, his father. His goddamn father! He had done this to them. Kagami had been stabbed in the shoulder but she was still fighting. Marinette had received a bad blow to the stomach. Everyone has excessive bruising most of the team had dried blood on them and their costumes were torn. He fell to his knees and threw up.

“My god,” he whispered, wiping his mouth. “Why him? Of all the loners and messed up people, why him?”

“Chaton, you could have not known,” Ladybug said, rubbing his back.

“Adrien, this isn’t your fault,” Kagami said, hugging him.

“Look at you guys!” He said, standing up swiftly. “You all look terrible! He hurt you are all so bad.”

“Thanks,” Queenie answered sarcastically, crossing her arms.

“You don’t look so hot yourself though,” Viperon said, trying to calm down the blonde.

“Viperon, is right we all look bad but this is what we signed up for as soon as we took the miraculous. Ya, it sucks that the troubles of Paris are placed on the shoulders five teenagers, who are still in high school, but the adults here are morons,” Queenie said, hugging Adrien. “You gotta calm down. I.. we won’t be able to fight you too.”

“You’re right,” he said, hugging her back. “Let’s go get ourselves a bastard.”

“That’s the spirit!” Ladybug said, giving him a fist bump.

They jumped to where they saw Hawkmoth enter. Ryuko offered to go in first, well not offered but barged in first. “Gabriel! You have some nerve!” Ryuko screamed when she saw the dark figure.

“Ahhh.. finally I’ll have what is truly mine your miraculous. It’s finally time to get rid of you, pests,” Hawkmoth monologued hiding in the shadows.

“Father! Stop this craziness! I don’t know why you’re doing this, but it must end!” Chat pleaded.

“Gabriel, we don’t want to fight you anymore. We just want the butterfly and the peacock miraculous,” Ladybug reasoned.

“and I just want my wife back,” Gabriel said, turning to the heroes. “Don’t you want the same, Adrien?”

“I.. She’s gone, Father. I’m going to be gone too if you don’t stop! I miss her as much as you do, but I moved on because it’s healthy! This isn’t healthy and would she want to be brought back like this? All this destruction, chaos, and pain? Would she even be able to look at you the same knowing that you’ve hurt Paris, my friends, and your only son?” Chat asked, stepping forward as Gabriel fell to his knees. “Please, Dad stop this.”

“Under one condition,” Gabriel asked, looking up at his son.

“Depends on the condition old man,” Queenie said from behind Chat.

“I want to be able to stay here with you and try to make up the time I wasted. Also please don’t tell the public who I am, the media would tear you and the company to pieces. You would probably be seen as an accomplice and wouldn't be trusted most likely anywhere,” Gabriel pleads, grabbing his son’s hand, the one without Chat’s miraculous.

“Group talk, huddle up,” Viperon said, beckoning everyone in.

“We could make him do stuff like community service, but subtly so it doesn’t raise any suspicion,” Ryuko reasoned, once everyone had gathered in the huddle of heroes.

“What would we tell the public,” Queenie asked, looking around the circle.

“After Hawkmoth ran, we found his miraculous that he had left on a rooftop,” Ladybug started a plan forming.

“When we went to find the civilian Hawkmoth he had already run,” Chat finished.

“Good enough for me,” Viperon agreed.

“What if we make him start a foundation,” Queenie suggested. “I could help since I am the Mayor’s daughter and have connections”

“He caused a lot of chaos, what if we make him start a disaster foundation? Natural disasters because those are a common thing here. Fires and floods, simple things,” Ryuko added.

“Ok we have a proposition then,” Chat said, breaking the huddle then looked towards Gabriel. “Father we came to a decision you can be unknown from the public, but you have to start a natural disaster foundation. Also something I’m adding get your mental health checked along with weekly therapy. If you choose these conditions you can stay at home as Gabriel Agreste and Hawkmoth will never be you again. If not we can take you into the police station right now.”

Needless to say, Gabriel had accepted the heroes’ gracious offer and handed over the butterfly and peacock miraculous, which was brought back to Master Fu. He had given her the Miracle Box because he wanted to retire soon after the defeat of Hawkmoth. The public was angry at first due to the fact they wouldn’t know the identity of Hawkmoth, but they thought the heroes didn’t know so they were less angry. Adrien sighed and jumped onto her balcony and headed home.

When Marinette woke up the next morning she looks around dazed for a moment or two this had been one of the first times she had gotten a full night's sleep in awhile. It was all thanks to her partners, she hadn’t even woken from a nightmare. She also woke up a bit earlier than her alarm, so she got up and put her hair in a bun, did some light makeup. She put on a white shoulderless short-sleeved shirt with little flowers near the neckline, a bubblegum pink flowy skirt, and a pair of darkish grey tights. She then finished the look with the same bubblegum color of her skirt for ballet shoes. When finished getting dressed she put cookies in her signature purse. She climbed up the ladder leading towards her bed to wake up her kwami.

“Tikki, time to wake up,” Marinette said, quietly.

“Good morning,” Tikki yawned. “You look nice this morning!”

“I got up early. I must’ve fallen asleep on patrol,” Marinette said. “I woke up on time and I didn’t have any nightmares.”

“That’s so good! You haven’t gotten enough sleep lately,” Tikki said, flying up out of her bed.

“Marinette! It’s time to leave!” Sabine shouted from downstairs. Marinette checked her phone and saw that it was true so she went downstairs. “Sweetie you look extra beautiful today! Did you sleep better than normal?”

“Yes, I slept well, love you mama see you after school!” She kissed her mama and left for school.

As she arrives Adrien’s car pulls up and she sees Chloe waiting by the bottom of the steps near the entrance of the school. Chloe is wearing her hair down straight but with the top part of her hair pulled back and held in with her miraculous. She is wearing a black pencil skirt that ends just above the knee, a flowy light yellow shirt, and paired with black flats.

When Adrien and Marinette meet Chloe they give both give her and each other a hug. They then walk inside to be met with the mess known as Lila and her posse. They meet in the courtyard where Alya and Lila try to get an apology out of Marinette.

"Lila, I didn't hit you. There's enough proof to say that I didn't, but yet you continue with your web of lies. Why would I want to hit you?" Marinette asked, crossing her arms as Adrien and Chloe stand behind her.

"Because you are jealous that I'm dating Adrien. I'm sorry Adrihoney that I told her our secret," Lila cried. "I just can't take her jealousy or torture anymore."

"Lila we're not dating..." Adrien started but was cut off again by Lila sobbing louder.

"You don't have to lie to them, they already know the truth. I can't let you hide your feelings for me anymore," Lila sobbed.

"Lila, what truth did you tell them the truth or the truth you want? I would never date you, Lila. You are too clingy, annoying, and you're always lying. Plus I'm happily dating someone; I'm pretty sure I love her," Adrien finished.

"Marinette, you slut, you're sleeping with Lila's boyfriend when you know that they are happily together," Alya raged, rubbing Lila's back.

“It’s like I’m not even here!” Adrien said, throwing his hands up in defeat.

"First of all, Adrien is just a friend. Second of all, how dare you call me or his actual girlfriend a slut and last Adrien's girlfriend could take Lila down in a heartbeat," Marinette said, stepping forward. "Adrien's girlfriend may not be the kindest at first glance, but what I wouldn't do to help one of my best friends."

She then walked to class with the two blonds glaring at the rest of the class following behind. The rest of the day was filled with excited chatter for the upcoming gala. Lila was bragging over the fact the uprising star, who she ‘helped’ found MDC's talent, made her dress just because Lila is so nice.

"MDC, he is so incredibly nice and handsome. He has milk chocolate hair and the brightest blue eyes you would ever see. It was love at first sight when he had first seen me. It was just after I had saved Jagged Stone's cat from the airport's terminal. MDC was with Jagged because he is Jagged's lost nephew," Lila started then her face fell. "I couldn't stay with him though, I was getting ready to fly to Gotham to be with my childhood sweetheart, my Damiboo. I'm sorry or as you would know him, Damian Wayne."

"Seriously! you've met the Waynes and Bruce Wayne's heir is in love with you?!?" Alya exclaimed. "You have to get me an interview with them!"

"Next time I visit my Damiboo I'll ask him, but he's kind of shy," Lila smiles, looking at all of her adoring followers.

Marinette sighed as the bell rung thankful for the end of her lies even if only temporarily. After her class, which was uneventful, she headed home to help her parents finish up in the bakery and eventually helped them close it. She saw that they had dragged out there nicer clothes.

"Sweetheart, would you be a dear and fit and fix my dress," Sabine asked, looking back at Marinette as she cooked.

"Of course Mama I'll fix it up after dinner," Marinette said as she was finishing up her homework.

They had a nice peaceful dinner after plates were cleaned, and leftovers were put away Marinette and her mother headed upstairs to fix her mother's dress. "Mama you look beautiful," Marinette said looking over the traditional Chinese red cheongsam.

"Thank you, Marinette," Sabine pauses, looking at herself in the mirror. "Pretty soon I'm going to give it to you. It was your grandmother's and I think you deserve it."

"Thank you, Mama," Marinette smiled, fixing the tear near the hem. "It's all fixed Mama. You look beautiful. I hope you have a great time tomorrow."

"I just wish you would come with us," Sabine sighed, hugging her daughter.

"I would but I had already made plans with Adrien, Kagami, and Luka," Marinette told the decided upon story.

"OK have fun at least," Sabine smiled before heading downstairs to show her husband.

Since it was Ryuko and Viperon's turn to patrol she went to bed early.

#ml salt fic #alya salt #lila salt #marinette x damian #damianette #maribat #batfam #ml New Life AU #ml x dc #wifiwrites #miraculous salt #marinette dupain cheng #marinette x batfam

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yangrr · 4 years

Text

dear no one [q.kun]

⇾ pairing : qian kun x reader

⇾ summary : love is worth the wait,especially when it’s your favourite food store aunty’s grandson

⇾ wc : 2k

⇾ genre/warnings : implied soulmate! au,inspired by Tori Kelly’s Dear No One | mild swearing

+if i may add,i want to dedicate this to @nctream who has always been the writer whom i admired for the longest time.thank you for being the sweetest person i came across this hellsite,though i never actually communicate with you but you’re so incredible and i hope you know that.much love!

All your life,you’ve wanted nothing more than to meet the one,the soulmate who was allegedly entwined with your soul before your time on Earth even began ticking.Everyone has someone,it was just a matter of time before you meet them.But that was also exactly why you were impatient,counting down daily on the crossed-out boxes of your yearly calendar,most of your friends had met theirs by now.Some married,some even with kids---or just happily dating.All but you.

It sucked really.

Going to work in the wretched company every day was like a punch to the guts when everyone around you was all about love.Mrs Kim on the marketing department always showed off her vacation photos--it was always jolly and exciting,grinning faces of her twin boys seemed to mock you for your lack of relationship.And there was also Mr Lee,a young intern who was at least 4 years younger than you but had already found his one and only.

And how about Mr Park,the old bumbling guy nearing his retirement age?His sweet plump wife never forgets to pack him lunch,constantly reminding him to wear his tweed coat in case he catches a cold in the draughty security room.

What about you?No one to come home to,no one packing your lunch or was there a partner for holidays.Twenty-three pushing twenty-four with no felicity in love.Lady Luck never smiled at you much,you could say.Maybe it’s your resting bitch face,it could probably scare off the fortune bearing deity and leave her quivering in her robes.

The day was cold as it is,heavy rain started its relentless onslaught on the wooden roof of the rickety store off the main road.You were craving hot soup after work and thought it would be a good idea to drive off course to visit the dear old lady who ran the shop on her own.She was an amiable creature,forever ready to offer a radiant smile that let her old beauty trickle through.The granny would probably be one of the few people you were genuinely nice to,which explains your big chunk of discount every time you stopped by.

But it wasn’t a good idea of course.Nothing you ever did was a good idea.

Your engine couldn’t start up after running in the rain for your car.Other than damaging the leather seats of your vehicle,your heels sunk deep into the slushy mud and broke right when you yanked upwards to get it out.Groaning in frustration,your fingers latched onto the tresses of your wet hair,the half-cracking nail getting caught between them.You forgot to cut them last night,and now it had turned its head back to bite you in the arse.

The you that made your way back into the shop shocked the small-framed lady,your disheveled appearance a huge contrast to the sleek you that had left the store a few minutes ago.You probably gave her little heart the dose of pump she never needed.

“Dear,what happened?”She exclaimed,scurrying over to you with two thick towels. “You’ll have to dry off,or you’ll be sick!”

She sat you down on the chair behind the counter,while you attempted to shield your ratty image from the prying eyes of her customers.It didn’t really work though,they still locked glances on you,curious and hushed gossip brewing among the group of malevolent looking ladies who look upon you with their beady eyes.

“Come,”She urged,ushering you towards the baby blue curtains that led into the kitchen,maybe.There was a “STAFF ONLY” hanging above the entrance,and the sound of pans clanging gave it away.

“Qian Kun!”Her frail voice shrieked in Mandarin, “Qian Kun,where are you,you lazy boy,”Tugging you by the arm,she led you further into the cooking area.The smell of cooking was making your full stomach rumble again,and you once again longed for the hot herbal soup with noodles. “Are you on your phone again?”

“I’m not lazy!”Was the reply.A fairly built man emerged out of nowhere,eyebrows furrowed in confusion when his eyes rested on your straggly form. “Who’s this?The new cashier?”He queried,wiping his wet hands on the rag by the table.

You couldn't answer,your usually sharp tongue felt prickly and numb.You only stared back absent-mindedly,but he looked about as enamoured by you like you had been by him.

You knew the old lady told him something,and with the way she was yelling at him,you figured he was too zoned out to concentrate.Both of you tore your gazes away from each other when his grandmother reached up to his broad shoulders to give him a good shake.

“You never listen to me.” She grumbled,huffing indignantly. “All I told you to do is to lend them something to wear,and drop them back.”

The granny gave Kun a small shove, “Naughty boy,and you were so cute back then.”She muttered,retying her apron hastily and hurrying away to wait on the unattended counter.

“I’m still cute now.”He mumbled,looking sheepish in front of you. “I-uh-I apologise,that was embarrassing.”

“No worries.”You let out a small giggle,waving his comment off. “Your grandmother is cute.”

The corners of his mouth pulled up in an amused smile,while he gestured for you to follow him. “I hope you can fit into my granny’s clothes,they are a little old-fashioned but I think you can make it work.”

The door behind the pantry led up to a stairway of wooden steps,and then into a fairly warm lounge.There was a small couch,and a bed accompanied with a shelf of books and board games.You supposed that this could be their resting place of some sort when they closed temporarily for the day,lunch break, or whenever someone feels a little out of it.

“This place looks really comfortable.”You remarked,shifting your black button-up from sticking onto your skin.It clung on like leeches,making this whole ordeal more unpleasant than it already is.The nail was giving you excruciating pain,the shard of the broken end digging vehemently into your fingertips.

“It is,my granny made sure it’s the best condition so all the employees would feel comfy here.” Kun rummaged in the closet to the left of the bed,fishing out a pair of loose black pants and a plain white tee. “Here,she didn’t leave any shirts here,but I hope you’re okay with mine.”

You nodded thankfully,reaching out to take them from him.The shirt smelled nice,your nose picking up on the lavender-scented detergent wafting from the material.

“Then I’ll drive you home?” The warm tone of his voice felt homely, sending hot waves across your body,making you feel like a lightheaded teenager talking to their crush for the first time,tongue heavy with nerves.But yet at the same time,the attraction that bloomed in your chest felt more matured and controlled than the seventeen-year-old you,age muffling the lovesick squeals that you would’ve let out when you’re alone in your room.

You had felt something when you first landed eyes on him,a familiar feeling stemming that made it impossible to wound your mind around.Maybe it was your affection deprived self that was being delusional,and it would pass like one of your many fleeting crushes.

But you couldn’t help but let your mind wander,thinking about what if he was the one you’ve been waiting for?

If there was a chance to hit the pause button,you would, in half a heartbeat.The quiet fragments of conversation shared brought you a sense of ease that you’ve never felt in a long time,with white noises and soft tunes of guitar strumming playing from the car radio was almost ethereal.The drizzle of the rain incorporated flavour to the moment like the topping to your favourite dessert,it was the perfect addition that completed the time shared.

“I’ll drop by tomorrow to return the clothes.”You said,unbuckling the seatbelt as he stopped in the lobby of your apartment complex.

“Alright,I guess I’ll see you tomorrow again?”Kun smiled,the kind that made your organs go mushy and all gooey,like someone stuck a ladle in you and began to stir aggressively.

“For sure!Thank you for the lift.” You limped out of the car slowly,careful to not cause more impairment to your shoes.You didn’t fancy going up the elevator looking like someone ran you over with a truck,but there wasn’t much of an option.

All you could think of that night were Qian Kun and his calloused fingers,deep timbre voice and gentle smiles.Maybe you were going crazy,but again,there wasn’t much of an option either.

“You seem very happy today.” Mrs Kim from the marketing team mentioned,the cheerful grin almost blinding you.You couldn’t help but spot the striking resemblance of the smile to her sons.Now,it suddenly appeared more kind and less scornful than you thought,and you felt a little bad for always being grouchy towards her.You realised it was nothing but your loneliness coming into play,and you would even admit that you were envious of her happy family life. “Had a great day yesterday?”

“Not really,no,”You told her. “But I guess it wasn’t all that bad.”

So the tales of yesterday’s misfortunes came pouring out of you,from the dreaded engine to the antagonising broken nail,Mrs Kim was more than shocked to see the unconscious tug of your lips upwards.

“And you’re still smiling after all that?”She laughed. “I’m gonna say that you met someone.”

Your eyes widened a bit,trying to cough it off. “I didn’t!It was just the store owner’s grandson.”

“So there is someone?”Mrs Kim waggled her eyebrows at you. “You cannot hide from me,child.That’s the face of an infatuated person.”

The bell jingled when you pushed open the glass door.Stepping in,you opened your mouth to greet the granny like usual,but was met with an unknown face gaping at you.It was a boy,around a few years younger,round marble eyes curious yet welcoming.His booming tone greeted you,far too much enthusiasm for your liking.

“Hello,welcome!What would you like today,miss?We have chicken noodle soup for today’s special and--,”

“Lucas,please stop talking so loudly.”Kun’s voice reverberated from behind the thin curtains. “You’re gonna scare all the customers on your first day.”

“I’m here to see Kun.”You spoke to the giant of a human,glancing swiftly at the kitchen entrance,slightly intimidated by his tall stature.He gave you a quick once-over,looking a bit confused.

“Are you his girlfriend?”He questioned,shooting you a broad smirk. “Kun ge is so lucky,I’m--”

“Lucas,what’s taking so long?”Kun appeared again like the first time you met him,drying his damp hands on a small rag. “Oh!”

“Oh,indeed.”Lucas said,mischief written all over his face. “Is this your girlfriend,gege?Should I let granny know about this?”

Kun scowled at him,murmuring something along the lines of ‘if you don’t shut up,I’ll make sure you don’t have a job by the end of today.’

“Hey.”

You passed him the neatly packed parcel, “I’ve washed everything.Thank you again for being so kind to me.”

“I say this calls for a celebration.” Lucas interrupted,peeking from behind the cash register. “Kun,remember that sushi place you wanted to try out?The one near the local university.”

Kun hummed, “What celebration?”

“That someone is finally into you for the first time in twenty-four years?You should appreciate this effort made by this very beautiful individual.”

“Would you kindly shut the fuck up?”Kun hissed,the frown intensifying.

“Well,if you need someone to go with,I know a person who would very much like to.”You interjected,growing more bashful by the second.

“Great!Now you two settle between yourselves.I’ve got work to do!”Lucas said brightly,darting away.

Kun smiled,tucking his phone away in his pocket,glittering irises not leaving yours.

“I’ll call you.” He promised,and somewhere in you just knew he would.

And as you made your way out of the store,the keen sense in your being told you that something very special was about to begin.

Good things truly do come to those who wait,after all.

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ladylynse · 4 years

Note

Thought of this yesterday, thought it might be a fun prompt for you: ML AU where the Kwami can "possess" the hero if the hero gets knocked out during battle, as an extra measure to keep the holder safe. Think of the shenanigans the different combos get into like that--also, imagine the public's perspective on how differently they might act if they act different at all (or if some kind of physical change happens, like hair or eye/sclera color). How do the Kwami do/work together as heroes?

Ooh, that is a fun AU, Anon! The colour change in the eyes would be a great visual for that—and much creepier if it’s the whites that change—and that’s not something that would be noticed from a distance, which it would mean it would take longer for someone like Alya to pick up on it. On the other hand, though, not having any sort of visual indicator is worse for the first time this happens, because they probably don’t know it’s coming, or what it is once it starts. And I like that idea more for fics—more initial confusion and terror because of not understanding what’s happening and not being able to immediately write it off as ‘maybe this is okay’ (since that is what happens when Adrien transforms), more questioning, more fear—though in the actual cartoon, I’d prefer the visual.

Now, if it’s something the kwami have always been able to do, they’d be very good at working with each other and would–within the physical capabilities of their Miraculous Holder–have a fighting style that is probably not like the style of whoever is currently holding their Miraculous. They would have a better idea of how to use their magic–it is theirs, after all–and probably wouldn’t face the same time limitation, given that their ‘possession’ would no doubt equal an increase in magical power that would mitigate any negative effects that might normally be associated with using their powers again too soon without properly growing into them.

That being said, there would undoubtedly be a physical toll on the body that the Miraculous Holder doesn’t typically bear. Like the exhaustion the kwami normally feel, except magnified. They’re sore, they’re tired, they’re hungry, and if they don’t just sleep the next day away, they don’t really have the strength to get out of bed. Their parents worry that they’re sick, but though they aren’t running a temperature, it must be something like that. Even though they still have an appetite. A particularly ravenous appetite. But no sooner do they eat than they can barely keep their eyes open. It’s…not ideal. The first time it happens to Adrien, he can’t keep Nathalie from calling the doctor. He can’t come up with an explanation she believes, an excuse that is good enough to overlook the downturn in his health.

But the second time Adrien is stricken with this mysterious illness, it comes with a cough that lingers well past the time he’s back on his feet.

The third time, it hangs around even longer, and she starts watching. Not saying anything to Gabriel–it’s coincidental, and she might very well be wrong, so she’d rather observe and build a stronger case first. But it’s a very familiar cough that rattles in Adrien’s lungs, and she knows very well what it’s like to hide perpetual exhaustion behind a carefully cultivated mask.

The first time one of the kwami are forced to take over, of course, Marinette and Adrien don’t expect it. Marinette remembers fighting, but not the details of it, not really anything after the latest akuma victim brought the roof down on them in the darkness. When she wakes up, blocks away, she assumes Chat Noir got her out of there. She doesn’t understand why he keeps asking if she’s okay, if it’s really her; the villain they’re fighting isn’t a shapeshifter. She tries to struggle to her feet, but it’s harder than she expects, and she doesn’t fight when Chat Noir tells her to keep lying down. That he’ll take care of her. That she doesn’t need to worry.

She assumes that the villain just got away from them in the distraction, but he says it’s over. The akuma is cleansed. They’ve won.

But she can’t remember any of that, and she convinces him to help her into a sitting position. Looking out at the horizon, she sees the very building that came down on them, as whole as it had been before the fight. It…scares her. Shouldn’t she remember using the Miraculous Ladybug spell? Or cleansing the akuma? After she lost her Lucky Charm….

“Tikki’s a good fighter,” Chat Noir tells her quietly. Marinette tries to figure out what that means, when he might have even seen Tikki since the time they’d been forced to switch Miraculous, and all she can come up with is Tikki’s assurances that she’d always do everything she could to protect her. She’s still transformed, after all; Chat Noir shouldn’t have had any opportunity to talk to Tikki now, let alone fight alongside her.

And then Chat Noir adds that it only took Tikki a few moments to get the hang of her body. That after a few trips and swings and misses, it was as if he were working alongside his lady like usual. Except that she was suddenly taking risks she wouldn’t usually take, proposing ideas at lightning speed and even offering him advice on how to use his staff more effectively for their current situation.

He also says that Tikki ignored his questions, answering with a terse ‘later, once this is over and we’re safe’ and a more than a few grumblings about Plagg. Apparently, she’d apologized afterwards, insisted that her priority was keeping Paris and her Miraculous Holder safe, and explained about this, something he’d never heard of–though he did admit that might be because he hadn’t listened to everything Plagg tried to tell him.

He doesn’t have to tell Marinette how worried he must have been, to see her go down and not get back up. He doesn’t have to tell her how quickly terror had replaced relief when she came to and began to fight again. He doesn’t have to tell her how uncomfortable he still felt about fighting alongside someone who very clearly wasn’t his lady, despite fighting with Ladybug’s body. She can hear it all in his voice, see it all on his face.

She doesn’t have the strength to get home, but she doesn’t dare ask Chat Noir for help. She pretends she is better than she is and collapses when he is gone, when his use of Cataclysm forces him to leave. She remembers thinking that she doesn’t know what to do, that she isn’t sure if she has the strength to crawl to somewhere she might be found. She remembers crying, talking to Tikki even though she’s still transformed, convinced that the moment the strengthening magic of the kwami disappears, she’ll lose consciousness.

She doesn’t know when she blacks out; she only knows that she wakes up in her own bed as Marinette, staring into the worried faces of her parents.

Marinette doesn’t see the Ladyblog until later. Not like Adrien, who sees the update that night and the slew of speculation that follows. Alya noticed that Ladybug was fighting differently than usual. She never saw Tikki’s initial bout of clumsiness; Tikki was too quick to adjust to the feel of Marinette’s body, and Alya was too far out of that particular destruction zone—thankfully—to catch any of that. She wasn’t close enough to see much more than how Ladybug handled the situation, either.

She wasn’t close enough to tell the difference.

She just knew there was one.

There was discussion about whether or not this was another power. There were theories about why Ladybug was able to produce multiple Lucky Charms, why she didn’t need to worry about her usual five minute time limit. Adrien knew perfectly well Chat Noir had looked much like a bumbling fool alongside Tikki, whose thousands of years of experience fighting showed in the way she could read a situation and act or react accordingly, but there were more than a few comments praising him, too, for how well he adjusted to this change in his partner’s rhythm.

Alya had been too far away to see the panic in his face, too.

Thankfully.

Adrien has a long, whispered conversation with Plagg that night. Plagg insists that he told Adrien about this ages ago, or tried to. It’s meant to keep them safe. They know the toll it takes on the human body, and that’s why they don’t do it unless absolutely necessary. It’s meant to keep them safe, all of them safe—Miraculous Holders and Kwami alike. It’s rare that more than one kwami has to take action like this in one fight, but it’s happened. He’s fought alongside Tikki before. He’s had to. That’s better than the alternative.

Kwami magic can protect them from a lot, but it cannot protect them from everything. When they’re pushed past their limit or otherwise can’t hold on to consciousness during a fight, when their lives and their secrets hang in the balance– That’s when the kwami can choose to act. It’s a last resort. If expressly forbidden, they won’t be able to do it. If the act will endanger their Miraculous Holder, they won’t be able to do it. Plagg isn’t very good about explaining the rules. Adrien just learns that it’s complicated, to hope that Plagg never has to do it, and to be thankful that he can. It’ll be hard on him—the kwami doesn’t sugarcoat that—but it’ll mean he’ll be able to fight another day. It means he’ll survive.

It’s because of that conversation, really, that Adrien recognizes it when it happens to him.

The aftermath marks one of the few times Adrien has ever accepted Plagg’s offer to share some of his precious camembert.

He doesn’t remember the destruction Plagg left in his wake when he acted as Chat Noir, but the footage and pictures on the Ladyblog were extensive.

The speculation started up again, too, the conversation about what this was, if it was them, or maybe even that it meant one of them from the future, albeit temporarily, a jump of consciousness or influx of futuristic knowledge, perhaps the activation of another Miraculous that worked in more subtle ways—

Ladybug hadn’t yet handed out Bunnyx’s Miraculous—not to their Bunnyx, anyway—but they’d run into enough akuma with some sort of power of time travel that everyone knew perfectly well it was a possibility.

Of course, looking over the footage on the Ladyblog doesn’t help him decipher Ladybug’s comments about Plagg one bit. Adrien still isn’t sure what he said to her. How much he told her. How much he hinted. And Plagg isn’t giving anything up, whether bribed with cheese or threatened by having it withheld. He’s always told Adrien that secrecy is important for their own protection, but he…hasn’t practiced that at every opportunity. And he’s encouraged Adrien to do quite the opposite. Adrien knows the risks, knows he can’t let it get out that he’s Chat Noir—not just because of Hawk Moth, but because of his father—and he doesn’t want to give up his partnership with Plagg, but….

But it doesn’t explain why Plagg makes the comments he does.

Or why Tikki, the next time he’s forced to fight alongside her, makes the pointed retorts she does when he dares bring up the subject.

It’s all very confusing.

Ladybug doesn’t want to examine it. More to the point, she doesn’t want to risk examining it. And he trusts her.

But he also sees the sidelong glances she sometimes gives him when she thinks he’s not looking, and he wishes someone would answer his questions.

At least coming up with something to tell Nathalie about his sudden illness when he’d been perfectly fine when the Gorilla had dropped him off at fencing practice an hour ago is something of a distraction.

-|-

(In case people aren’t aware, I am collecting musings like these in my fic ideas post. This post also includes a link to further musings on dual possession, as well as these anon additions…and the anon’s nickname for Plagg!Chat Noir and now their awesome edits (and more and more edits)!)

#miraculous ladybug #ml au #au #tikki #plagg #adrien agreste #marinette dupain-cheng #fic ideas #musings #asks #ladylynse #I had a lot of fun Anon thank you #have some implications in return #Anonymous #kwami possession au

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demytasse · 5 years

Text

[Shizaya] Of Pleas and Boredom - Ch 1

Summary: Two sides of the same tragedy; what boredom and the fear of being left behind can do to a relationship that was built from thrills and high tension. A bittersweet, established relationship fic to which Izaya and Shizuo actively fuck things up out of desperation. (Previous Chapters)

You drive me... a faulty wheel to which you forfeit; tread me a weary path that you love to fumble.

...make me... a cardinal sin to which you frequent; claim me a novel bore that you hate to fixate.

...wear me... a moral crime of that you fashion; accuse me a guilty deed that you write as fiction. But — Don’t create me... a pity loss to which you fancy; dub me a boring muse you force to forget. Please — Don’t tire of me... a healthy flame to which you see feeble; view us a heat-less fire you fear to foster.

"...and Shizu-chan, you wouldn’t believe the grand finale! And here I thought it was a lost cause!”

A solo conversation for two ran in fast forward. It was an afternoon of hyperbolic proportion, one that starred the master of monologue — a dancer who jumped tangents just as quick as he landed, to whom barely left pause for dramatic effect let alone a breath to regain his strength, his gusto provided by the thrill of the moment.

Once desperate to keep pace with Izaya, Shizuo relinquished his attention in attempt to make sense of multiple stories that criss-crossed paths. He cleared his eyes of glaze and attempted to do the same of his comprehension.

Shizuo stammered his response, “which forum was this?"

The way his mind referenced notes in a scurry transformed him into a student caught off guard — Izaya, the mad professor dissolved his excitement mid-lecture. His animated gestures fell in a way that told of his unconscious prediction coming to fruition. It was a sight Shizuo hated to see let alone count the rise in frequency; just as well as he despised to be the cause of it.

"Ah, it’s okay. I didn't expect you to keep up."

Flashed fever clammed his skin — a drop of sweat rolled down his spine, "I can keep up just fine, flea!”

With immediacy, the pest took up a feigned task, his eyes flit over lines of text as fingertips skated the phone screen. It was his brutal way of showing disgust; replacement of one disconnect with another, tit-for-tat for those unable to share his exercise of intelligence.

Shizuo grumbled; he knew of that audacious play quite well, to which Izaya brandished his petulance like a child just to swing it haphazardly.

“Seems like a different one than yesterday, is all."

"Oh, that's because it is.”

“Hu?”

“Honestly, I was only there for Momo-chan."

"She's…” he paused to grab the right wording, “not there anymore?"

"Well it’d certainly be troublesome for her not to be,” Izaya chuckled emptily. “She is the admin, right?”

Shizuo nodded though couldn’t tell if he actually recalled it or if he never knew the detail in the first place.

He followed the arc of Izaya’s tossed phone, perceptively read the other’s tired disappointment over something specific. That’s what he’d found of that particular sigh and that sigh was something of a forecast. Izaya wasn't the only one keen of the other's idiosyncrasies, though Shizuo wasn't a braggart.

“She was dragging on my every nerve. Constantly asking for more advice, more tips, more this, more that... The forum’s popularity boomed just like she wanted,” he mocked an explosion with flayed fingers. “Just as she begged me to help her achieve. Though was she prepared to handle the duties of being an admin?” He answered his rhetorical question with a huff.

Even though Izaya tiptoed the edge of vehemence, he paid the memory disinterest. Normally he quaffed let-downs like a drug and this time was no different. He reaped whatever benefit he could: appreciated a rise of any kind. It was cheap ecstasy.

Shizuo frowned upon Izaya for his committed sin.

“I was running her forum while she floundered. So I told her it was a sign she wasn’t cut out for it.” His tone grew chill, ”the truth shouldn't warrant her calling me a bastard, but as a favour I let her scream to her heart's content in PM before I dropped the account.”

"You lost interest in her that quickly?”

“I suppose.”

“You’re okay with cutting someone out after chatting with them for months?" Shizuo’s nerves ran frantic with a chip in his voice.

It was that ever-lurking boredom that clung to Izaya that reared its fearsome head — yet again, Shizuo lamented.

"I wouldn’t consider six weeks months. What illogical mathematics do monsters practice?”

No sooner he insulted, Izaya squashed what inspired Shizuo’s twitch of anger that rose beyond his instinct. “But to continue that thought, yes, I would.”

“Why?”

The air struggled to support the hefty stall. Izaya appeared to suss if it was a serious question, though Shizuo meant it a plea for the selfishly cut tie to be reconsidered; to believe he himself wouldn't meet a similar fate.

“I was being saddled with a project I couldn't afford. People are supposed to grow once I assist them, Shizu-chan. At the very least they should have interest in themselves."

Izaya idly snipped his fingers in the air like scissors, his eyes focused on a thought already distant. As the exhaustion set in, he slowed his pantomime. Weariness draped his eyes.

Shizuo witnessed that exhaustion sans empathy.

"How often do you do that?"

"As often as needed." Izaya’s absent mind responded too quickly.

"Izaya..."

"I’m not dodging the question, Shizuo. I just can't give you a solid answer. I love and appreciate people, but...”

Their eyes met at middle ground and Shizuo immediately ached with the pain of Izaya’s constitution that begged for him to reciprocate.

“Have you ever felt yourself gradually lose reasons to talk to someone? The topics you can share quickly diminish?"

"Not really.”

The admittance was a crime and Izaya’s chuckle incarcerated him — exposed without a defense against the accusation Shizuo swallowed nervously.

“Consider yourself lucky, then. The countless times I’ve watched people fail to uphold their potential is nothing short of… Well, it’s tiring. The injustice individuals pay to the human race is abysmal.”

His charming smile traveled upward, yet his vigor neglected to perform its passionate abandon. Shizuo treasured that of Izaya, that rare joy that would drown anyone within short distance. At no fault of his own he watched a travesty of that raw beauty; though he was stabbed with blame that twisted with guilt, just before it was yanked out to create him a casualty.

Shizuo sickened as his own silence grew deeper while Izaya filled the void with his muse.

“Relationships are two way streets, and really — truthfully — it's tragic how difficult it is to find those who’ll comply.”

Izaya’s age caught up to him at once. “I don't enjoy cutting ties with people, Shizu-chan, but it happens. Oh well.”

His youthful air and wise maturity were purposely built strong, yet they were functions of a glass canon. It was rare that anything would get passed his own valued fortitude that he too desperately clung to. Though Izaya stacked the odds in his favour, occasionally something chipped his kayfabe, dramatically destroyed his character that appeared a child, while his years barely counted higher than a teen.

But now he was revealed too old and Shizuo had no means to fathom the leagues that Izaya’s weariness dove.

“Sorry…”

It soured the sympathy he’d given Izaya, like he offered empty condolences to an immortal whose wonder had disappeared long ago, alongside the people he’d watched leave — one at a time, crushingly the same, indefinitely. Yet that man wielded hope like a rusty weapon to attack his forever depression.

It was a hard belief that they were two beings of separate race — a bumbling human ruled by primal law and a god among no peers burdened by a lack of finality.

And what deity Izaya was went unnoticed by the man himself, though not by the man to whom he fancied at that moment.

Shizuo worried that he was merely a footnote.

Maybe all he was to Izaya was a temporary partner to entertain him before he moved on down his farcical timeline of his deathless life. Maybe he was an interest whose clock was about to tick its last tock and reset once more as a new bore.

Perhaps…

A novel chirp interrupted their simultaneous, yet separate thoughts.

Shizuo observed the perk in Izaya's aura like he regained his childhood. A new toy he approached with re-awoken wonder as a text message lit his waxen features. The delighted beam snipped attention that was strung to Shizuo; their conversation hung dead.

“Well that’s certainly a surprise…” a skip to his step, Izaya left the room to pretend himself an informant during a round of make-believe at recess.

He smiled with glee no longer a treat for Shizuo to indulge.

Perhaps, he’d already crossed the threshold of Izaya's boredom. That insecurity had already began to fester, but now it burrowed, rather drilled furiously deeper to take foundation in the gut of his anxiety — Shizuo’s fear attempted to replace his faith that he’d stay connected to Izaya.

Snip!

He recalled the image of Izaya cutting the tie of that once budding relationship.

Snip-snip!

The threads began to cut away from their seam. Though sewn tight, Shizuo had so little thread to rely on.

#shizaya #shizuo x izaya #heiwajima shizuo #orihara izaya #izaya orihara #shizuo heiwajima #durarara #durarara!!#drrr #drrr!!#durarara fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #shizaya fanfic #izuo #izaya x shizuo #of pleas and boredom #demytasse fanfics

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wolfinmychest · 5 years

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friday, 3/1/2019

yesterday, i tried writing about how i’ve been feeling the most insecure and awkward i’ve ever felt since i was a kid. i graduated from architecture school in may and a week later, i started a full-time internship that i’ve been working at for the past few months. i now spend most of my time sitting behind a desk and trying NOT to sound like a bumbling 13-year-old around the office. almost every day for the past few months has been unchanging - same alarms, same 8 to 5 job, same people.

today, my firm laid off 17 of those people. but not the bumbling 13-year-old intern…

since i literally have no friends at work, i get almost all of my gossip from eavesdropping on the conversations around me. i do this thing where i comb my fingers through my hair and secretly tug on the one earphone i have in, all while acting like i’m glued to my computer screen. but even if i wasn’t trying to be so discreet, i don’t think my co-workers would really care, to be honest. just this week, someone called me alexis! so that just shows how visible of a presence i am there.

towards the end of the day, i noticed albie getting ready to leave even though it was only 4ish. albie works on the production team like me, but he’s also a former partner’s son, which is why he gets away with so many things (arguing with lead architects, coming to work 30 minutes late with starbucks, texting during meetings) - because, well, nepotism.

basically, leaving an hour early from work wouldn’t be that wild from him. but as he was packing, kenneth from interiors was hanging around his desk and in the corner of my eye, i noticed that he gave him a hug before he left.

weird.

they were close, but i didn’t think they were close enough to be exchanging hugs in the same way me and my friends would after hanging out. sure, it was friday, but did they always hug before the weekend? i know albie has a dog that he’s obsessed with… did he, like... die?

on his way out, he then said bye to the rest of us (like he always does) and we replied with lazy waves and mumbled goodbyes (like we always do). the only person who really paid him any attention was bob, my much older supervisor, (who’s also the very republican yet somewhat wholesome grandfather i’ve never had the pleasure of having).

bob joked and said, “albie’s leaving, everyone! now we all get to leave!” with an undertone hinting at the whole nepotism thing. andre and victoria, who sit next to albie, looked up and andre asked, “do you know the context of him leaving so early?” bob said that he didn’t and i waited for andre to answer with something funny. this one time, albie’s car got peed on during work and that was probably the hardest i laughed all week. how exciting of a life i live.

“he just told us that he got laid off.”

i was shocked in a sad-ish way. embarrassingly, i did think he was kind of cute. maybe it was because he was the only other person on the production team who knew who drake was or because he had nice hair and cool shoes. mind you, the temper tantrums he would throw would always keep a crush from actually developing - and temper tantrums could he throw! so, yeah, i was shocked, but not totally surprised that he would get fired. growing up with the ceo’s kids could only get you so far. i figured he finally crossed the line today and it ended badly.

my other co-worker, george, whipped his head around and was just as surprised as bob was, even making a comment on how this was turning out to be a bad day.

george is very outspoken and a bit of an attention hog, in my opinion. he’s usually calling everyone nerds or overexaggerating an old man voice when bob can’t figure out how to use his computer. bob is more than twice george’s age and the two of them are both lead architects, contrary to how george treats bob. i think he considers himself a character on the office and would probably be pleased to know i don’t think he would play anyone besides a villain.

because george is annoyingly smart and says whatever he wants to, i think he’s the only one albie really respects. he laughed at almost all of his jokes but i don’t think george cared about how obviously albie rode his dick. so, to see him emotionally affected by his leave surprised me. george, who i think takes pride in his work ethic, gave up trying to continue working and he and bob left.

when george came back, ronnie from graphics was on our side of the office and i heard him ask her, “you have my phone number, right?” to which she replied with something about having him on facebook, too. he then told her he had to give her a hug… ronnie’s super bubbly and sweet and i really like her because she’s one of the few people in the office who actually talks to me. but as huggable ronnie might seem, george isn’t someone who just hugs people. i was confused but willingly ignorant as to why they would be bonding like this over albie leaving.

when she left, george, who’s a vice president, made a comment on not wanting to pick up his phone and how none of us should either. bob came back and they started talking about stuff i didn’t understand until george said, “yeah. kit, brian, and rafael from the newport office. gone.”

it became clear to me what was going on. albie leaving made me a little bit sad only because when work gets really, really boring, the only thing that keeps your spirits somewhat high is the possibility that you’re catching someone’s attention. the three people leaving from the already tiny newport office only confirmed that ronnie was leaving, too. ronnie leaving made me and everyone else especially sad. i knew for sure that she was good at her job and that both she and albie had been at the firm for years. i also knew that my co-workers at the newport office were definitely necessary and made up almost half of the production team that i’m on. i mean, a huge part of george’s bob impression is how dependent bob is on kit (“kiiiiiittttt,” george would wheeze in this overdramatic, shakey voice. “how do i open reeeevitttt?”).

it was now a little after 4:30 and i really, really tried to distract myself with my work. of course, i was spiraling the entire time and begging my phone not to ring. i never get any phone calls, so if my phone started ringing, everyone would know it was because i was getting AXED. i’ve already been dreading a big office goodbye at the end of my internship on normal terms, how the fuck would i do it on getting-fired terms? also, why did i show up late to work today? why did i show up late to work every day? if i got laid off, would my parents feel sorry for me? would they tell me to break my lease and move back to california early? i was hoping that when i moved back home, i would be offered a position at the newport office, but that obviously wouldn’t happen if i got laid off. months and months and months at this firm and i didn’t save any extra money… how did i let myself get so comfortable? oh my god, am i really going to cry right now?

rudely, the only thing that disrupted my freaking out was the low, static hum of our office radio.

“pressure,” the library-quality speakers sang to me. “pushing down on me, pushing down on you...”

...

i find it very annoying and invasive, really, how funny my government agent thinks they are.

ronnie came back a second time to talk to victoria, who was gone when she said bye to george. i know ronnie and victoria are really good friends because they’re always laughing whenever they’re together and i think they eat lunch together, too. victoria’s a lady in her early 50s who has a girlfriend, an alcoholic ex-husband, and a crass sense of humor. i think she and ronnie complement each other’s personalities very well. during my first week at work, she asked me to give her a twirl because she loved my outfit, which i think was one of the nicest compliments i’ve ever gotten here.

it seemed they were saying their goodbyes when andre asked ronnie if what he heard was true. “it’s true,” she responded. “i heard people were getting phone calls and i was like, i’m gonna get one too. then, i heard my phone ringing and i was like yup, i knew it! i was right! ha.” i thought this very telling of who she is as a person, which only made me sadder.

ronnie started giving hugs to the rest of our side of the office and was heading towards our corner when the intercom interrupted her to say we had an all-employee meeting in the main conference room. it felt icky knowing that this “all-employee” meeting now excluded several people still in the office…

on my way to the conference room, i noticed the real alexis (a girl on the graphics team) hugging another co-worker. she didn’t end up sitting in that conference room. it seems i’m now the only alexis that works here.

when we all found seats - which obviously didn’t take too long, given how much less seats we needed to fill - a man named ben walked in, by himself, wearing a suit. this was weird because every time i’d see ben, he was with our ceo and casually dressed in a golden knights jacket and jeans. he dialed our ceo’s phone number and when he didn’t answer, he looked even more distressed than he already did. he tried dialing again and paced between the conference room and the receptionist’s desk, trying to get a hold of our boss.

meanwhile, a blonde lady in the corner introduced herself as andrea and thought aloud about how she didn’t recognize most of the room. she explained how we’d probably only met her via email or phone and i remembered her reaching out to me towards the end of the summer to ask if i’d be staying. i also remembered how earlier, george said that when andrea’s around, it’s either something really good, or really bad. but you won’t know until it’s over.

andrea explained that she was going to be in the office more often because judy from HR was no longer working with us. this shocked me the very most. judy being laid off would be like professor mcgonagall leaving hogwarts. she’s the one who handed me my paystub today and then thanked me for calling in this morning for being 20 minutes late… she’s always on my co-workers’ asses about our timesheets (which i’m pretty good at turning in because signing off that timesheet welcomes in the weekend). she’s the one who hosts the birthday luncheons (which we haven’t had in months, i’m now noticing). judy was the lady who congratulated me and gave me my paperwork at the end of my interview. judy was also the one who gave me a special introduction at the birthday luncheon that none of my other new co-workers ended up getting. she scares me most of the time but i can’t imagine this office without her.

everyone was really quiet until ben walked back in. whenever i’d seen him, he looked bored at best, and never spoke. at that moment, he looked sad, and for the first time ever, he started talking.

i braced myself and expected the worse. he finally explained that 17 people were let go today but the rest of us could breathe easy because we wouldn’t be expecting any more unfortunate phone calls. there wasn’t a single sigh of relief in the room after he said that. i decided that this was a mistake. i looked around the room to see what faces showed up when our ceo finally dialed in. he voiced what i was wondering and asked who was in the room. was he also making sure he didn’t miss anyone?

“i know everyone in the room works really hard,” he tried to assure us. "well,” he then correted himself. “um, so did everyone who we had to let go.” he didn’t say much more after that or even explain why so many people were laid off. i sat there trying to take up less space so that people wouldn’t notice me and wonder the same thing i was wondering: how the hell was i still here?

when the meeting was over and i was packing to leave, i overheard our production manager say that the last time something big like this happened to our firm was in 2008.

today, my firm laid off 17 people. but NOT the intern who literally has no friends, shows up 20 minutes late to work, and still gets called the wrong name.

this makes me feel guilty. “survivor’s guilt”, my roommate dani explained to me. my coworkers who were laid off have actual lives - some, even families. they worked here far longer and harder than i did. they all made close friendships here… they make people here happy. these are people who were planning to work here for years to come when i was only planning on working here until july…

just the other morning, i woke up excited to eventually never see that office again before forcing myself to get out of bed. most mornings, i pull into the parking lot late and roll my eyes at how embarrassing it was that so many people choose to come to work early. to be fair, i still think that’s embarrassing, but it’s not their fault if i’m the only one who’s cultured enough to be fashionably late.

anyway, i explained to brittanie that i feel like this whole experience is the universe sending me a sign to be more grateful for my job. this, i know, is a self-centered and stupid reason as to why so many people lost their jobs, but it’s also why i feel so guilty. i was so excited to get rid of them... had i been more appreciative of my firm and the people i worked with, would the universe have let me keep them?

realistically, the reason why i’m staying is probably because as an intern, i’m a lot less expensive than my more important co-workers. but my former coworkers are leaving behind responsibilities that are already leaving a significant impact. i, on the other hand, could’ve gone home relatively unscathed. no one would miss me, but that would be okay.

if this is the universe teaching me a lesson, it doesn’t stop at me missing the co-workers i should’ve gotten to know better. it begins with me taking the help around me for granted. at my job, the work that i usually pick up would go through several tiers of people before eventually settling on my desk. now that most of those tiers are gone, it would mean i’d be taking on much more responsibility than i’m used to or even comfortable with… this means i can no longer just ignore or avoid something because i’m too scared or shy or insecure to tackle them.

i’m 24-years-old and i can’t give anyone any more reasons as to why i don’t deserve to be there... but now i’m too scared to let go of that insecure and awkward 13-year-old that i’ve become so fond of turning back into.

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bigyack-com · 4 years

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The Work Diary of a Hairdresser So Coveted, She Travels by Private Jet

Jayne Matthews thinks that most hairstylists are doing it wrong: “A person takes a pair of scissors and cuts the ends, maybe gives the hair some layers, but in general it’s like a big, shaped block on the head that needs to be blown into a manageable style.” Ms. Matthews — the co-owner of two salons in the San Francisco Bay Area, both called Edo — uses a straight razor as a carving tool instead of scissors. “I can carve petals into hair so it can have length but be lighter,” she says. “I consider it the difference between a hedge and a bonsai tree.”These organic cuts, as she calls them, have garnered her a cult following of more than 82,000 on Instagram. Her signature look is a modern shag, heavy on the face-framing layers and bangs, inspired by Chrissie Hynde, Brigitte Bardot, Jane Fonda, Stevie Nicks and Patti Smith. Ms. Matthews, 47, charges $325 for cuts at her salons, the first of which she opened with her business partner, Chri Longstreet, in 1998. At that price, many clients get just one or two trims a year. “When you get these haircuts, they look cool and lived in,” she says. “You can wake up in the morning, maybe tuck it behind the ear, touch the bangs a smidge, and it looks good. The less you do, the better it looks.”In 2014, after giving birth to a daughter, Ms. Matthews decided she’d try to get better at showing off her cuts on social media, practicing lighting and angles. Salons in Los Angeles and Portland, Ore., were soon asking her to come do cuts and trainings, and clients now routinely fly to the Bay Area to book with her.

Tuesday

7 a.m. I woke up in an Airbnb in L.A., a little bit drained because I worked with a shaman yesterday on a cleanse. I drank a raw cacao and coffee thing I had delivered the day before.10 a.m. I took a private jet service that has like 20 passengers from L.A. to Oakland. I listened to a relationship podcast on Audible because there was no Wi-Fi. Then I went on a dating app and changed some of the wording to be more authentic. I also edited hair photos for my Instagram account and the salon’s. I take 25 to 50 photos for each cut and look for one where the client looks the most alive and interesting.12 p.m. I took a Lyft home and took a bath — I almost never take showers — and tried on a dress to wear for this big workshop I’m teaching this weekend in New Orleans.1 p.m. A friend is helping me get some online education going. We checked out a space to see if the light was right for filming. I want to sell classes online because it’s hard being a single mom and traveling around so much — I get messages daily from London, Berlin, Paris.2 p.m. With clients at Edo in Oakland. The first flew from Salt Lake City: an Asian woman whose hair was mid-back, all one length. I gave her a shag with bangs. Then there was a woman with blue, curly hair and I gave her bangs. I also taught an impromptu class with my assistant, who was doing a bob across the room that I thought was looking a little like a mom bob. I spent 45 minutes working with her to make it more cool and young.6 p.m. I picked up my daughter, Sylvie, from her after-school arts program. It was pouring rain and we ran out to the car to go get ramen.10 p.m. Answered some direct messages on Instagram. They’re always women. Half of them cut hair and half are fans. My clients are usually between the ages of 28 and 45. It is usually the girl who likes her expensive stuff worn in. She’s understated but not messy, she doesn’t have a lot of plastic surgery, she’s a farm-to-table girl who doesn’t shop at department stores.

Wednesday

7 a.m. I made Bulletproof coffee and opened email and DMs and made sure there wasn’t anything too pressing. I woke up Sylvie and made her peanut butter toast and took her to school.9:30 a.m. Back in bed. I had a call with these hair salon business coaches that are helping me navigate my separate education business and whether — after I move to L.A. soon — I want to open my own salon or a third Edo.11 a.m. I made a post that I was looking for hair models. Then I got a call from a friend at a modeling agency about girls who want makeovers.4 p.m. I picked up my daughter and we rushed to get to her ballet class at the Y.M.C.A. in Berkeley. Afterward we went to this place that sells really high-quality bone broth and premade foods that’s only open a few hours a week. We went back to the Y.M.C.A. and she went to the child care room while I ran upstairs and took a quick workout dance class that was kind of cheesy, but it felt good to work my body out.8 p.m. Took a bath, cleaned up my kitchen a little bit, edited and posted a picture on Instagram of a makeover I did, answered some DMs and online shopped for some new shoes.

Thursday

8:30 a.m. After I dropped off Sylvie, I had an hourlong phone conversation with my custody lawyer about my move to L.A.11 a.m. By then I was in a really big rush for work at Edo Oakland. I was 10 minutes late to my first client, who had just moved here from New York. She was wearing a great outfit and had a huge cowlick and very dry, kind of fuzzy, long hair. I gave her some cheekbone-framing layers. My next client was an intuitive healer and the next one worked at Google as an artist.4 p.m. There are these muses I do for free. I can do anything I want to with their hair. I gave one a mullet with choppy baby bangs, but a chic version.7 p.m. I started feeling like I had a sore throat, which would be terrible because New Orleans is this weekend.9 p.m. Into bed.

Friday

10:30 a.m. I got a message from somebody who said a photo that one of my stylists posted — braids with ribbons — was cultural appropriation and asked that I consider taking it down. If somebody asked me the origin of this hairstyle, I’d guess it was African-American, and this photo was of a young white woman.I thanked her for the message. I took the image down and told my manager that I wanted to have a discussion. We’re in Oakland, a historically African-American city, and it’s important for us to be able to grow in that way.1 p.m. A client came over for a trim. She started crying, which happens a lot with my clients (but not over their hair). She patches clothing with embroidery, and I gave her a pair of 1970s Wranglers with a hole in the butt to do for me.4:30 p.m. I went to yoga and came back home and made food. My personal assistant came over with my mail and packages. I listened to Kate Bush and started trying on outfits for what I’d pack for the workshop trip. I decided to be minimal.

Saturday

6:45 a.m. Woke up and flew to New Orleans. The workshop is called Bayou St. Blonde. It’s two days of education and networking that The Left Brain Group — my agency, which helps me grow my business — puts on every year.3:30 p.m. All of us from out of town are staying at a hotel near the French Quarter. As soon as I got there, I saw a friend and fellow stylist and educator, Roxie Darling, for the first time in years.6 p.m. Headed to a party for the attendees in this incredibly beautiful church where the entire inside was painted light pink and periwinkle blue and had arched ceilings, and all I could think about was when I find my guy someday, I want to get married in there.I saw the creative director for Bumble and Bumble, who has taught many classes I’ve taken over the years. I told her that a couple things she said to me years ago about face shapes and bangs made light bulbs go off in my head.

Sunday

9 a.m. Opening day of the event. I didn’t have to teach, but I ended up cutting someone’s bangs in the bathroom because I felt inspired.1 p.m. I went to the hotel to take a nap, and then a hairstylist friend came over and ended up doing an Instagram live video of me giving her a total transformation.

Monday

8 a.m. Room service: arugula salad, eggs over medium, orange juice and coffee.12 p.m. Went to a yoga class that was heated. I was super sweaty and rushed back to the hotel to shower. Then I threw on some cozy sweats and a sweater and Converse, and grabbed a fancy outfit to change into later.2:30 p.m. I’m scheduled to cut two models’ hair onstage at Bayou St. Blonde. Texted my makeup artist that I wanted matte, bright red lips on both of them. He arrived and started working as I was assessing their hair. Then I went downstairs and listened to a panel on self-care and thought about whether I had burned out.4:30 p.m. There were 250 people watching, in a tent decorated with garlands and wreaths, when I got onstage. I definitely did not have enough time to do two models, so I felt rushed — I would say the hair came out beautifully, but I definitely needed to do some more work when I came offstage before I took photos.8 p.m. We all felt like our legs were about to fall off and went to dinner at a Middle Eastern restaurant. Then I came back to the hotel and watched Instagram Stories of my teaching. It looked better than I remembered, and that made me feel good.Interviews are conducted by email, text and phone, then condensed and edited. Read the full article

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