#mrwednesday

The drink nearly spilt from Mr. Wednesday’s lips after you had finally confessed your feelings, there in Anansi’s workshop. The glass shook a little in his hands as he looked over at you, an incredulous look on his face. “You’re fucking joking.”

“Afraid not,” You said, touching some of the fabrics that Anansi had laid out for you. The tall, dark God was trying not to laugh at your admission of feelings towards the Norse Allfather while Shadow Moon just looked disgusted. “But I have heard a good joke recently if you’re interested. Four Norse Gods, 1 Roman God and 2 Astrological bodies walk into a bar-”

“Huh,” Mr. Wednesday said, looking me over and then looked over at Shadow, cutting off my joke. “Looks like I’ve still got it after all.”

“It’s the robe,” Anansi would insist. “Once we’ve got you into your new and proper suit, you,” He pointed over in your direction. “-Are going to have some stiff competition.”

Imagine: Meeting up with Mr. Wednesday at the bar where he is making the deal with Shadow Moon to get him to be his body guard. All the while Mad Sweeney spots you (never having met you before and not knowing that you are an old friend of Mr. Wednesday’s) and finds you very memorizing from the moment he saw you walking into the bar alone. He ends up approaching you and begins to shamelessly flirt with you and soon tries to pick you up by using his coin trick, thinking to himself that you’d be very impressed by it. Even though you think he his quite good looking, you can’t believe he just did that and end up being unimpressed, making him shocked. 

    The enamoring qualities of this seven foot tall leprechaun seemed to swell with every shiny coin that he plucked straight out of thin air. There was a smug wolf’s simper plastered upon his countenance, one that you were incapable of being mesmerized by.

  “So,” Sweeney enunciated with his thick accent, pausing momentarily as a coin slithered skillfully from his mouth and flopped into the empty glass beneath his chin, - minding you that he did this whilst keeping heavy eye contact with none other than you -, “can the pretty lady give the showman a nice tip or what?” He raised his brows inquisitively, like he already knew the response, mischief dancing tantalizingly within his deep dark orbs. He drank you in like you were a new trinket, something that needed to be explored as swiftly as possible but for as long as he simply desired.

  You raised your brows questionably, hand propped beneath your chin, - your body language gave nothing away whatsoever -. You silently deliberated to yourself as you eyed the leprechaun skeptically. “I think the showman will have to do a better job than cheap tricks of plucking coins out of thin air.” You stated matter-of-factly and coolly: You gave nothing away, whatsoever.

  A stunned expression flashed upon Mad Sweeney’s face, he had never gotten a reply out of someone like that before. He was more than accustomed to the dumbfounded countenances, the awed eyes that stared at him in wonder; he knew many of them wished to be like him. However, he had not been expecting a single drop of disinterest in his tricks or himself, especially when he still had his lucky coin on him.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think someone has something worthwhile for me to hear.” Your raised brows beckoned towards a smiling Mr. Wednesday, whom you were certain heard everything that had just occurred between yourself and Mad Sweeney. It wasn’t that you didn’t like the attractive and tall leprechaun, no, it was simply that he had caught you off guard with his bombardment of flirting and showing off: It had become annoying fast. You wanted answers, not a fleeting show, and you were going to get them from the man who sat down a few stools from you at the bar. Mr. Wednesday.

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