𝐷𝑖𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 - Technoblade x Reader

Chapter Three

What could make this meeting even more terrifying? Oh, just add in that I woke up late.

I was now working with about 30 minutes to take a shower, get ready, and finalize my portfolio before I needed to be downstairs and on my way. You could say that I was freaking out just a bit.

The shower might have been the fastest of my life, and I threw on a sundress as I didn't have time to think of what outfit screamed successful author who definitely isn't having writer's block. My hair ended up with a quick blowdry and a hat to cover whatever would end up airdrying.

There were now about 10 minutes, and I'm absolutely grateful I decided to put the majority of my portfolio together last night. I ran to my office, throwing my idea notebook into my bag with my portfolio without even a thought. If I forgot something, I'll just make it up on the spot.

Now my lack of time made me forget a very very simple rule Wilbur and I created to protect my identity from his fans. Knock before entering his office. I had already slipped my shoes on, and I ran to his office to say goodbye before I left.

"I'm leaving for my meeting!" I said in a rush before looking to his screen to see his streaming software very active. He looked at me with a bit of a panicked look. "Uh, sorry!" I said before rushing out. I hardly had the time to worry about that right now.

Luckily I made it out of my house with a few minutes to spare, and the walk to our usual place was only 5 minutes from my flat. I was able to slow down and catch my breath and my thoughts. Did I just walk in on Wilbur streaming? That absolutely sucks. I hope he was able to turn it around into a small thing. He knew how I felt about being on his streams.

I arrived at the small cafe down the road earlier than Maria. Luckily this could give me some time to try and mentally prepare for the conversation that was coming my way. As much as I wanted to believe Wilbur's theory, I couldn't put out of my mind the possibility that she may come here with the worst news of my entire life.

When the waitress came by, I ordered a coffee to try and give myself something to distract the picking at my fingers. I tried my best to look confident, but it was absolutely driving me crazy that my career could end today. What would I tell Wilbur? I would have to get some random job, giving up my dream and struggling paycheck to paycheck.

"Oh, darling!" I heard Maria's voice ring through half of the cafe. She was always a rather confident woman. I stood up to meet her outstretched arms. Although meeting with her always caused a large surge of anxiety, I always loved seeing Maria. She was a light in every room she walked in, and I was beyond lucky that she was my manager.

"Hey Maria," I said as she wrapped me in a tight hug. I hoped this wasn't a goodbye hug. "It's so good to see you."

"It's always a blessing to see you," she said as she sat down across from me at our table. She rummaged through her bag and pulled out a notebook. Hopefully just filled with some details about a party or something.

"I ordered myself a coffee, I hope you don't mind. I would've ordered you something but I wasn't sure what you would've wanted," I said looking down to my coffee. She laughed slightly, waving down our waitress and ordering herself some breakfast.

"It's no worry at all, hun," she said opening her notebook. "I won't waste any time diving into my meeting notes with the publisher because I'm sure you are absolutely losing your mind over this." It's like she could read my mind.

"Please do," I said with a nervous laugh. The anticipation building up to her explaining was killing me. It felt like years.

"The publisher wants a draft of at least a fourth of the book by next Monday. They started with half, but I worked them down to a fourth as no one can physically write that fast. They would likely prefer if it was more than a fourth but that's what they expect," Maria said scanning over everything she wrote. I felt my heart stop. That gave me just under 2 weeks to write at least 150-200 pages. I had maybe 20 and I've been writing for a month. How could I possibly do this? "Now calm down, (Y/N). I can practically see the fear on your face. I have a plan because I assumed by your lack of emails that you were not having an easy time with this book."

"Is it really that obvious?" I said wanting to hide my face in my hands. I looked back up in an attempt to look more confident than I felt.

"Only to your manager who has been working with you for years," she said with a slight chuckle. "The publisher has no idea you are behind schedule. They just wanted to create a small deadline to see your work. And that's what we are going to do."

"What? Maria, I don't have even near the number of pages I need. The plotline won't come to mind the way I need it to. How am I going to give them 200 pages?" I said trying to calm the storm my brain was feeling.

"No one said it had to be the final draft or even a good one at that," she said taking a sip of the tea that the waitress dropped off in the middle of our conversation. "Just write a story you don't like. When the burst of inspiration comes, you'll rewrite it in no time."

"Turn in a bad draft? What if they hate it and they drop me?" I said looking at her with a look that I hope didn't portray 'are you crazy' because that was what was going through my head at the moment.

"They won't drop you, (Y/N). You are the highest-paying client on their payroll. It would be a horrible financial decision for them to drop you over one bad draft. You have nothing to worry about," she said with a rather reassuring smile. I guess she made a good point, and I didn't have a lot of room to argue with her as I would not be able to pump out the book I wanted in that time.

For the rest of our breakfast, I showed her the few outlines I had so she could pick the one she thought the publishers would like the most. I was thankful she had my back at this moment and was feeling only feeling slightly mortified now.

We said our goodbyes, I packed my bag up, paid my bill, and walked back to mine and Wilbur's flat. My mind was racing with the thought of having to really write 200 pages of content that I hated. It was weighing me down mentally, and I was not feeling like talking to Wilbur right now.

When I got to the door of our flat, I decided that opening the door and closing it as quietly as I could is the perfect way to avoid Wilbur knowing that I was home from my meeting. The door barely made a sound, and I tiptoed to my room as quietly as humanly possible. There was literally no way he heard that over his headset.

My sweatpants and sweatshirt still were staring at me from the floor, and I gave in by immediately changing into them and sulking into my bed. It was okay to sulk for a little, then I would start writing. I would.

Hours went by. I couldn't help it. I was drifting in and out of sleep, and it was much better than focusing on the absolutely suffocating pile of work ahead of me. Sadly, my sulking was interrupted quickly and I heard the door open. Wilbur was never one to knock. Waffles reacted to the sound, which definitely gave away that I was underneath my mountain of blankets.

When he heard me groan in an attempt to make him leave, he only laughed and jumped onto my bed and ripped the blankets off my face. He had a sympathetic smile on his face, but it only made me want to hide away more.

"Meeting not go well?" He said sitting up more. I joined him, trying to fight the urge to continue my sulking event.

"It honestly didn't go terribly. I just have more work ahead of me than I ever thought possible," This caused a confused face from Wilbur, and I took this as the time to dive into what Maria said. He seemed to have the same reaction as me. The idea sounded crazy, then you explain the rest and it's just somewhat impossible to imagine.

"Well hey," Wilbur said reaching out to grab my shoulder. "I think you've done enough for the day. Come play games with me and my friends. It always helps your mood!"

"I don't think I have the mental capacity to handle Tommy and Tubbo's energy right now," I said looking at him with a smile. He didn't return the sentiment, as he turned away with a somewhat guilty look on his face.

"Well, they actually aren't the ones that asked to play with you today."