#also i have the shop tomorrow afternoon but the manager (who i like) is having a day off

[saintslewis]

❝ 𝐈’𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ❞

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 — 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

˖ ࣪⭑ - pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!oc

˖ ࣪⭑ - summary: the first meeting. new neighbourhoods bring back old family friends after many years of being apart. dinner at the Hamiltons somehow manages to make new ideas spark.

˖ ࣪⭑ - warnings for this chapter: none

˖ ࣪⭑ - saint’s team radio: omg it’s literally been ten/eleven days since i released the masterlist and i’m only posting the first chapter rn??? sorry about that baes but pls do enjoy the very first chapter of renaissance!!! mwah! Taglist is down below babies 😚 lemme know if you wanna be tagged 💗

masterlist

next chapter

Turning the sounds of Future down just a little bit as she drove into the street of her parents new home, Nadia closed her car window and eyed the grand houses that she drove past in her 8 year old Honda. Sighing, she parked into her parents driveway, seeing both their cars parked outside and decided to park behind her mother's car and watched as the house gate closed shut.

Stuffing her phone into her hoodie pouch and fixing her blonde and pink ombré hair, knowing very well that her mom will find a way to comment on the new colour, she got out of the car and locked it.

The Buckinghamshire sunset was slowly approaching, the wind not too harsh to even lift a couple of hairs but yet the Friday afternoon was quite chilly. Trees were becoming more and more green the more she looked at them and the birds definitely weren't silent. Hearing the front door open with a bit of a creak to it, Nadia's tired smile grew on her face as she saw her mom replicate the same emotion.

"Nads!" Thembi, her mother, expressed as she watched her daughter walk towards her on the pathway to the front door. Thembi definitely had an off day, wearing an ever so colourful sundress with the charm necklace that Nadia's younger cousin made. She carried something small in her hands as she extended her arms to Nadia.

"Hi mom." Nadia tiredly greeted as she leaned into her mother's arms. "2 weeks since I've seen you, nana. How are you?" Thembi said to her daughter, leading Nadia into the house. "I'm tired, there was an extra class I had to take up after school. And just thinking of the grocery shopping I have to do tomorrow just tires me even more." She sighed, looking around the grand home that her stepdad, James, had built for her mom.

Gosh, just thinking of the love that her mom and stepdad share just makes her want to cry. Moving to the Uk was an extremely difficult challenge that Thembi and Nadia had to endure, not sure how they were going to survive with just the two of them but James had met her mom and made the lifelong promise that they would build their life together and they did exactly that although wanting to care for someone as their own after Nadia. In a few days, Nadia's younger cousin would be moving in with her parents for a scholarship she received back in South Africa.

"But enough about me, does Rea need a lift from the airport?" Nadia asked, beelining towards the soft couch in the living room and immediately relaxing onto what feels like clouds. "Yes, I have a meeting the moment she lands and James has to watch over his project. I also gave her some money so maybe you guys can get some ice cream?" Thembi rushed all her words out, walking all over the place looking for something.

"Mom, why are you rushing? What's going on?" Nadia sat up properly from the couch as she watched her mom move frantically.

"Oh we've got a dinner with our neighbours, surprisingly moved from Stevenage with us. Doubt you remember them."Her mom said, hurriedly putting her earrings on in the large hallway mirror and checking her short afro. With a stunned expression in Nadia's face, she looked down at the outfit she had on then looking up at her mother who was all dolled up. "But ma, don't you think I'm underdressed for a dinner?" She asked, unconsciously holding the pouch of her hoodie.

Looking at her daughter once, Thembi shook her head before turning back to the mirror. "Please, these neighbours are super, what's the word you use? chill. We've been friends with them since your primary days." She smiled at Nadia before heading to the base of the staircase. "James! Finish up! Nads arrived so let's go!" Thembi shouted.

"Wait, how long has this been planned?" Nadia looked at her mom confused to which she just smiled at her innocently. "It just slipped my mind two weeks ago, sorry. Now, let's go wait by the front door to make James feel bad for making us wait." Her mom ordered with Nadia following after her, holding her car keys.

"I'll follow you guys there, I'll go home afterwards because I've got too much work waiting for me back home." Nadia informed her mother as she heard footsteps coming from the hallway. "Nadia! It's been too long. How's everything?" James greeted with a huge grin, side hugging his stepdaughter.

"Who knew high school kids would have so much energy when you mention a free lesson?" Nadia said, tilting her head back at the memory of her day and how it drained her. James just smiled and squeezed her shoulder as Thembi opened the front door, leading them to their cars.

-

Turning into the street at least two minutes away from where her mom and stepdad live, Nadia rolled her eyes at the thought that they could've just walked but knowing how her mom thinks, walking at night even in their neighbourhood was never safe.

Following James' suv through the large black gates, a much grander yet modern home came into the view of her window shield leaving her mesmerised, so much so that she even turned down her music to look at the fairy lights lighting up the driveway to the house. Looking forward, she saw a few cars parked outside of the garage onto the gravel seeing a trend of Mercedes in this household.

Finding a decent parking spot next to her parent's car, she climbed out of the car and fixed her hair once again and clicked her gel nails, trying to hype herself up to be present at the dinner. Hearing quite loud greetings behind her, she shut her car door closed and locked it and walked to the enthusiastic group at the neighbours front door. Two children ran outside as well seeming to be chasing each other with their laughter filling the air.

A gasp came from the woman with the white short hair, walking around what seemed to be her husband with her arms out. "My goodness, Nadia! Is that you? Thembi, you didn't say anything about her beauty!" The woman that she had yet to recognise stood at an arms length with her hands clasped as she examined Nadia with a large smile. Nadia was trying her hardest to remember who exactly this woman was but she put that aside and walked forward to briefly hug the woman.

"Hello." She greeted with a smile, feeling herself go back into her bubble as all the attention was directed at her. "Well, welcome to our new home! Stevenage cannot separate us!" The older man said as he turned to welcome Nadia into the house home as everyone followed in. She immediately recognised the man to be Anthony, a good friend of her parents. Everytime she would see him back in Stevenage, he was always very nice yet reserved. She's very sure that she's seen the older woman before but for the life of her cannot remember.

A much younger woman had turned the corner holding a child's hands and Nadia internally sighed in relief as she realised that she wasn't the only young person attending the dinner. "Oh hello!" She happily greeted Thembi and James, hugging them as they exchanged kind words to each other. The younger woman turned to her with a stunned yet animated expression as she smiled at Nadia.

"Hi I'm Nicola, your parents have told me so many things about you." She introduced herself then her hand pointed towards the kids. "These are my kids, Willow and Milo. Come say hi guys." The children immediately running to her with the boy being a little shy but the girl, Willow, hugged Nadia's leg and looked up at her with the largest smile she's ever seen on someone. "I love your hair!" The girl exclaimed happily, examining the blonde wig with pink ends.

"Come on everyone! The pasta will get cold!" You all heard the older woman from before voice out.

"So Nadia! My goodness, you've grown. I would remember seeing you leave for school back in Stevenage." The woman, who's name was Linda, expressed and looked over to Thembi with a smile. "So do tell, how's everything going with you?" Anthony spoke up after taking a sip of his juice.

Putting down her utensils, Nadia looked over the table to see everyone focused on her. "Well uh where do I begin. After high school, I went to Cambridge for Law but eventually switched to Education for personal reasons. Spent quite the time away from home but i would call and visit when i could. I teach at Preston Manor in Wembley, where i live as well and the past few years have been quite uneventful. I do dabble a bit in fashion from time to time." Nadia spoke, watching as the table took in all the information.

"Mum, Sir uncle loves fashion!" The young boy vocalised to his mom. "Speaking of him, let me find out where he is because we know he's always late for everything." Nicola chuckled as she took her phone to make a call.

"Cambridge? Wow! Now that's something to brag about!" Linda smiled at Nadia, giggling over to her mother who looked proud of her daughter.

Not being able to take compliments as easily as others would, Nadia shyly put her down and glanced at her manicured nails, wanting the conversation to shift from her to anything else. Luckily for her, the attention switched to Nicola walking rather quickly to the front door to welcome someone into the house. Wanting to escape the very cheery welcome of the newcomer, Nadia politely asked to go to the bathroom.

"Why the fuck is this house so big?" She whispered to herself as she dried her hands on the hand towel, exiting the guest bathroom to get back into the dining room. Hearing rather heavy footsteps seemingly walking into her direction, Nadia opted to walk faster to avoid a possibly awkward encounter with anyone at the dinner table even though she's already grown fond of Nicola and her kids.

About to turn the corner, a soft yet musky scent wafted through the air, encircling Nadia's space. What entered her vision were brown air jordans, similar to those some of her students constantly spoke of usually with grief that they were expensive. Lifting her head to look at the individual in front of her, they seemed to slow their tracks.

Setting her eyes on the man in front of her, she tried her level best to not take in his facial features all in one moment. Seeing the tattoos that decorated his arm and hands, the woman grew speechless at the amount he had. Granted she had a few of her one but his were well kept and gorgeous. The graphic shirt he had on sat very well on his body, the perfect fit that is 'oversized' and his shorts showed the athletic build he had. She tried to snap out of it and so did he.

Lewis didn't want to say he was completely entranced by the woman in front of him but this was a face you couldn't get out of your head even if you wanted. Firstly he admired the choice of colour of her hair, seeing how it suited Nadia's face so well. Moving down to her face, her nose piercing was shining under the hallway light and the lipgloss had clearly been freshly coated. The outfit was very chill, the hoodie and cargo pants combo seemed extremely comfortable on her, blanketing her in a way. As if one blink could change everything, Nadia had blinked and turned her head, looking away from him.

"Oh sorry, you can go right through." She said with a small smile on her face as she moved out of the way so he could walk past him. "Thanks.. I'm Lewis." He introduced himself and the equally as small smile was as soft as he seemed. "Nadia, nice to meet you." She responded, blinking rather slowly as she was still as sleepy as she was before. "Likewise." Lewis answered, the small crinkle by his eyes showed that he seemed a bit tired as well but he clearly did not want to show.

With that, they both excluded the conversation with one entering the bathroom with the other heading in the direction of the dining table.

Willow had opted to sit next to Nadia as she piqued the young girl's interest, quite the colourful woman with not much to say. Nadia could not ignore how the child already began to adore her, her heart aching at the thought of possibly not seeing her new best friend that she made. Creating relationships with people other than her family was tough but to see herself become comfortable with neighbours she hadn't seen in years was odd. Willow's attention clearly went somewhere else as Nadia was in her thoughts, the man from before taking the child's seat. "Hey, that was my seat!" The young girl pouted at Lewis. "Yeah, that was my homegirl's seat." Nadia jokingly said as well, looking at his amused face.

"Sir uncle, you can sit on the couches." Willow ordered as she had a staring contest with her uncle. "But that's so far?" He had giggled, completely amusing Nadia who was watching the whole interaction. "Exactly." Willow sassed, making Nadia laugh.

A small gasp came from Linda's lips as she and the others had been watching the cute scene in front of them as everyone was getting ready for dessert. "Thembi, would you look at how precious this is." The older woman gushed, eyes focused on Nadia playing with Willow as Milo and now joined the scene, Lewis and Nadia having a conversation (mainly Lewis being curious on the hoodie and earrings).

"Are we sure about what we're going to do?" Anthony looked at Nicola with her nodding her head. "I feel like it's going to work. These rumours have been off the charts these past few weeks." Rightfully as his half-sister, she was worried about her brother. Everything seemed to be hurdled at Lewis, all types of untrue things and his pr team were working hard but had not found a solution or anything to put good attention to the driver. Reaching out to the family, Nicola, Anthony and Nadia's parents had managed to come up with something, unsure of whether it would work or not.

"You guys have been huddled up together for a while now, is everything okay?" Nadia spoke up, suspiciously looking at the group. "We're discussing the true crime shows that I've recommended to them." Thembi lied straight through her teeth, surprised that Nadia bought it. All she did was nod her head and continued playing with Willow, finding Lewis a very interesting person and someone she could definitely be friends with.

taglist: @non-stop-imagines @folkloresthings @flowerchild-96 @userlando @lorarri @thisismeracing @thatsdemko @myescapefromthislife @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @jamie2305 @like-fire-love-blog @sugardontbesweet @simpfortoomanymen

dividers by: @cafekitsune

faceclaim for nadia: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!

all pictures from pinterest and ig!

#☆ ‧₊˚ saint’s media pen #x black reader #x black fem reader #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x oc #lewis hamilton x black reader #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x black!reader #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 x oc #f1 x you #formula one x black reader

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Big Train managers earn bonuses for greenlighting unsafe cars

Tomorrow (November 16) I'll be in Stratford, Ontario, appearing onstage with Vass Bednar as part of the CBC IDEAS Festival. I'm also doing an afternoon session for middle-schoolers at the Stratford Public Library.

Almost no one knows this, but last June, a 90-car train got away from its crew in Hernando, MS, rolling three miles through two public crossings, a ghost train that included 47 potentially explosive propane cars. The "bomb train" neither crashed nor derailed, which meant that Grenada Railroad/Gulf & Atantic didn't have to report it.

This is just one of many terrifying near-misses that are increasingly common in America's hyper-concentrated, private equity-dominated rail sector, where unsafe practices dominate and whistleblowers face brutal retaliation for coming forward to regulators.

These unsafe practices – and the corporate policies that deliberately gave rise to them – are documented in terrifying, eye-watering detail in a deeply reported Propublica story by Topher Sanders, Jessica Lussenhop,Dan Schwartz, Danelle Morton and Gabriel L Sandoval:

https://www.propublica.org/article/railroad-safety-union-pacific-csx-bnsf-trains-freight

It's a tale of depraved indifference to public safety, backstopped by worker intimidation. The reporting is centered on railyard maintenance inspectors, who are charged with writing up "bad orders" to prevent unsafe railcars from shipping out. As private equity firms consolidated rail into an ever-dwindling number of companies, these workers face supervisors who are increasingly hostile to these bad orders.

It got so alarming that some staffers started carrying hidden digital recorders, so they could capture audio of their bosses illegally ordering them to greenlight railcars that were too unsafe for use. The article features direct – and alarming – quotes, like supervisor Andrew Letcher, boss of the maintenance crews at Union Pacific's Kansas City yard saying, "If I was an inspector on a train I would probably let some of that nitpicky shit go."

Letcher – and fellow managers for other Tier 1 railroads quoted in the piece – aren't innately hostile to public safety. They are quite frank about why they want inspectors to "let that nitpicky shit go." As Letcher explains, "The first thing that I’m getting questioned about right now, every day, is why we’re over 200 bad orders and what we’re doing to get them down."

In other words, corporate rail owners have ordered their supervisors to reduce the amount of maintenance outages on the rail lines, but have not given them additional preventative maintenance budgets or crew. These supervisors warn their employees that high numbers of bad orders could cost them their jobs, even lead to the shutdown of the car shops where inspectors are prone to pulling dangerous cars out of service.

It's a ruthless form of winnowing. Gresham's Law holds that "bad money drives out good" – in an economy where counterfeit money circulates, people preferentially spend their fake money to get it out of their hands, until all the money in circulation is funny money. This is the rail safety equivalent: simply fire everyone who reports unsafe conditions and all your railcars will be deemed safe, with the worst railcars shipped out first. A market for lemons – except these aren't balky used sedans, they're unsafe railcars full of toxic chemicals or explosive propane.

When cataclysmic rail disasters occur – like this year's East Palestine derailment – the rail industry reassures us that this is an isolated incident, pointing to the system's excellent overall safety record. But that record is a mirage, because the near-misses don't have to be reported. Those near-misses are coming more frequently, as the culture of profit over safety incurs a mounting maintenance debt, filling America's rails with potential "bomb cars."

Rail mergers and other forms of deregulated, anything-goes capitalism are justified by conservative economists who insist that "incentives matter," and that the profit motive provides the incentive to improve efficiency, leading to lower costs and better service. But the incentive to externalize risk, kick the can down the road, and capture regulators rarely concerns the "incentives matter" crowd.

Here's an incentive that matters. Rail managers' bonuses – as much as a fifth of their take home pay – are only paid if the trains they oversee run on time. Inspectors have recorded their managers admitting that they have quotas – a maximum number of bad orders their facility may produce, irrespective of how much unsafe rolling stock passes through the facility.

Inspectors have caught their managers removing repair order tags from cars they've flagged as unsafe. Inspectors will log orders in a database, only to have the record mysteriously deleted, or marked as serviced when no service has occurred. Some inspectors have seen the same cars in their yard with the same problems, and repeatedly flagged them without any maintenance being performed before they're shipped out again.

Former managers from Union Pacific, CSX and Norfolk Southern told Propublica that they operated in an environment where safety reports were discouraged, and that workers who filed these reports were viewed as "complainers." Workers furnished Propublica with recordings of rail managers berating them for reporting persistent unsafe conditions the Federal Railroad Administration. Other workers from BNSF said that they believed that their bosses were told when they called the company's "confidential" work-safety tipline, setting them up for retaliation by bosses who'd falsified safety reports.

Whistleblowers who seek justice at OSHA are stymied by long delays, and while switching their cases to court can win them cash settlements, these do not get recorded on the company's safety record, which allows the company to go on claiming to be a paragon of safety and prudence.

The culture of retaliation is pervasive, which explains how the 47-cars worth of propane on the "bomb train" that rolled unattended over three miles of track never made the news. There is a voluntary Close Call Reporting System (operated by NASA!) where rail companies can report these disasters. Not one of America's Class 1 rail companies participate in it.

After the East Palestine disaster, Transport Secretary Pete Buttigieg pushed the rail companies to join, but a year later, none have. It's part of an overall pattern with Secretary Buttigieg, who has prodigious, far-reaching powers under USC40 Section 41712(a), which allow him to punish companies for "unfair and deceptive" practices or "unfair methods of competition":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

Buttigieg can't simply hand down orders under 41712(a) – to wield this power, he must follow administrative procedures, conducting market studies, seeking comment, and proposing a rule. Other members of the Biden administration with similar powers, like FTC chair Lina Khan, arrived in office with a ranked-priority list of bad corporate conduct and immediately set about teeing up rules to give relief to the American public.

By contrast, Buttigieg's agency has done precious little to establish the evidentiary record to punish the worst American companies under its remit. His most-touted achievement was to fine five airlines for saving money by cancelling their flights and stranding their passengers. But of the five airlines affected by Buttigieg's order, four were not US companies. The sole affected US carrier was Spirit airlines, with 2% of the market. The Big Four US airlines – who have a much worse record than the ones that were fined – were not affected at all:

https://prospect.org/infrastructure/transportation/ftc-noncompete-airline-flight-cancellation-buttigieg/

Rather than directly regulating the US transportation sector, Buttigieg prefers exacting nonbinding promises from them (like the Tier 1 rail companies' broken promise to sign up to the Close Call Reporting System). Under his leadership, the Federal Railroad Agency has proposed weakening rail safety standards, rescinding an order to improve the braking systems on undermaintained, mile-long trains carrying potentially deadly freight:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/11/dinah-wont-you-blow/#ecp

The US transportation system is accumulating a terrifying safety debt, behind a veil of corporate secrecy. It badly demands direct regulation and close oversight.

If you are interested in rail safety, I strongly recommend this episode of Well There's Your Problem, "a podcast about engineering disasters, with slides" – you will laugh your head off and then never sleep again:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0BMQTdYXaH8

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/15/safety-third/#all-the-livelong-day

#pluralistic #safety third #safety #whistleblowers #trains #railroad #rail safety #propublica #east palestine #monopoly #osha #bnsf #csx #bad orders #federal railroad administration #fra #association of american railroads #norfolk southern #union pacific #incentives matter #bomb train #Confidential Close Call Reporting System

[theheartofthestar]

Prompt 20 - Florist AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 20th - 837 words

Remus looks up when he hears the door bell chime. It's a slow Tuesday, so he's just been sitting behind the counter catching up on some reading. The four men carry themselves as if they are still school boys, pushing each other and talking above one another, but by their looks Remus can tell they must be around his own age.

One of the men is finally pushed forward, all long, silky black curls framing a handsome face. Sharp nose above a perfect bow of pale lips. Remus eyes trace the man's face up to his eyes, the most beautiful set of grey eyes, unnerving yet appealing. The man clears his throat and Remus lifts his eyebrows, hoping to mask the attraction he feels behind what he hopes comes off as justified annoyance at four grown men acting like boys in a tiny flower shop on a Tuesday afternoon.

"Hi, uhm, you're handsome" the man says, and Remus smirks even through he knows his face is coloring. The other three snort.

"Subtle, Sirius, very subtle" the man with face piercings laughs.

"I mean, have you got, uhm-" Sirius pauses, as if they had walked in without a clear plan on what exactly they wanted to buy from a flower shop. "-flowers?"

"Oh my god"

"Pads!"

"Zero rizz, I swear"

"Yeah, we've got flowers" Remus feels his heart doing acrobatics on his chest. "What type are you looking for?"

"Uhm, eh, I don't know, maybe something like that?" Sirius scrambles to find something around the shop that might look like something that's ready to be sold. He ends up pointing at the flower crowns Remus made this morning, now sitting on a shelf and waiting to be delivered tomorrow morning.

"Flower crowns." Remus says, to confirm. Never mind he feels he'll probably melt if he sees this gorgeous being in a flower crown of all things.

"Yes" Sirius looks awkward, but Remus catches the very clear way his smile also carries a certain flirt. And they say the love of your life will never knock on your door.

"Oh, those are commissioned, they aren't for sale. But how about-" Remus tries to think of a way to keep them in the shop a bit longer. Maybe he'll get lucky and manage to get a phone number. "-how about I teach you how to make them? You pay for the flowers, and I'll just show you how to wave them"

It's a silly idea, but one that Lily has been pestering him about ever since they went together to that sip-and-paint some weeks ago. The dark skinned man immediately perks up.

"Like a workshop?" He says excitedly, and the man who looks just like Sirius groans. Remus thinks maybe they are brothers. "I love workshops! Yes, absolutely! Where do we sit?"

And so starts an afternoon Remus didn't plan on having, stealing glances and sharing small smiles with this handsome angel that happened to walk into his shop. Remus learns their names, listens to their friendly bickering and tries to keep his blush and his breathing under control when Sirius' calf presses against his under the table.

When they are done, the four of them wear their flower crowns proudly. The flowers in James' crown have lost half their petals, rough hands as his are. Barty refused to remove the thorns from his rose's stems, and Remus wonders idly what's up with that. Regulus' crown is by far the prettiest, and blushes brightly when James says as much. But it is Sirius' crown that looks the loveliest, because the loveliest pair of hands wove it.

The group dawdles by the door for a bit before they go, and James very obviously gives Sirius a shove towards the counter behind which Remus is trying to keep his hands busy to avoid staring at the most beautiful being he's ever laid eyes upon. But Sirius says nothing, just smiles a bit awkwardly and so Remus says nothing, just blushes and crinkles his eyes. The friends clearly feel some help is needed, because James comes forward and slings an arm around Sirius' shoulders

"So how long do these last, Remus?" James says, vaguely pointing at his and Sirius' flower crowns. Remus has to clear his throat before answering.

"About four days, I would say-" whatever he was going to continue with is interrupted by James.

"Great! So you can expect Pads here to come by to pick up another one." James pats Sirius on his chest as he says so.

"I can?

"Prongs-"

"Same time next week? Yes? Awesome, he'll bring some coffee too. It's a date, tá!" And with that, James drags a mortified looking Sirius and his other two very amused friends out of the store. Before they slide out of sight, Sirius catches his eye and smiles.

Remus smiles looking at the flower crown in his hands. Next Tuesday can't come fast enough.

(you can read more of my work here)

#wolfstar microfic #florist au #flowershop au #Florist!Remus #remus lupin #sirius black #hp marauders #astra writes #marauders microfic

[honorary-knight-of-favonius]

Amorist - Pantalone

Summary: Lone adores your talent so much he tries to replicate it.

Warnings: Subby!Pantalone, Toys, Drunk!Pantalone, Fan!Pantalone, Writer!Reader, Dom!Reader, Sensitive Pantalone, Crying!Pantalone, Fem!Reader

I always felt eyes on me, more specifically but I was never sure who it was. All I knew was that these eyes showed up while I was typing away in the coffee shop. I tended to go for writing inspiration and some writing snacks. And yet everytime without fail I’d always feel these eyes. Sometimes when I left my laptop on the table to go to the bathroom I would find a comment on grammar or a sticky note telling me how to enhance a scene or that the mystery person was excited to see what was next.

In fact I once wrote on a sticky note for this mystery person my name and tumblr profile in case they wanted to read other things from me and when I got back from the bathroom it was gone and still grammar was fixed and tips were written down. I was happy to be seen as a good author in person rather than just the internet.

In fact I enjoyed the advice and tips that I’d make it a habit to go into the bathroom for at least 15 minutes to allow the reader to repair what I wrote along with reading it. When I finished my first book there was a sticky note and a company card.  

‘If you're interested in publishing I have a friend who’s willing to help. Just call the number, also. . .Will you be writing a second book? I need to know if Addison marries Evan or Thomas!’ 

Thanks to the amazing advice the reader was giving I didn’t debate long on the decision to call after I did some research. When I got home I called the number on the card and within seconds a throat was cleared. 

“Hello this is Pantalone Harbinger. How may I assist you?” his voice was toned and mellow and soft. 

“I was given your card, I heard you could help me with publishing a book.” A little ‘oh’ passed through the phone along with a ‘I didn’t she’d call already.’ though I’m sure he didn’t notice it. 

He cleared his throat once more before speaking, “That’s right, I own a publishing house. One of my employees said he found a real talent for writing.” The way he said employees was odd but i didn’t question it much. 

“Yes, well. The advice given to me was rather helpful. So I figured I continue to listen to it and give you a call.” I explained. 

“I see, so your interested in publishing, well, if I can help I certainly will, however I must see the work you produce, I know it is rather brash but if you could email me the transcript I review it and email or call you at a later date.” I bit my lip at this, though the offer was good it was too good and well what if he simply used my story as his? 

“I’ll need to sign a contract.” I say

“For?” He asked

“A Non-disclosure agreement,” he hummed, “I need to be assured you nor your company would steal my work and claim it as your own.” The man hummed once more before hastily agreeing. 

“When would you like to sign the NDA? I have some free time in the afternoon tomorrow.” I paused. 

“T-tomorrow?” The man giggled

“Yes, in all honesty my employee is rather pervasive and managed to give an excellent summary of the story that compelled me to fashion up an NDA in hopes you’d call.” I hummed. 

“W-well, I am also free in the afternoon, is there anywhere you’d like to meet?” I ask

“Perhaps my office, I like to keep work and personal life separate, the address is on the card. I'll tell my aid you’ll stop by.” I hummed and he bidded me a goodnight before hanging up. Without many hold ups I sprinted out of my morning class and hurried to the office on the card and with anxiety coursing through my veins I went into the publishing house and then the elevator which took me to the ‘big boss’s office’. When I got there I saw a man without a suit jacket working and I approached him. 

“Do you have an appointment?” He asked. 

“Y-yes? I believe so, Mr. Harbinger told me to meet him here in the afternoon.” The man looked up and seemed to recognize me before hurrying to stand and leading me to the office door which showed a man with black hair and violet eyes, he had glasses in a completely black tux he too had lost the jacket and tie, in fact some buttons on his shirt were undone. 

“Sir, your afternoon appointment is here.” He looked up and smiled before ushering me inside. Once I was seated the aid I can only assume closed the door and left us be. 

“It’s a pleasure, ms. . .” I coughed.

“Y/n, please just address me as Y/n.” I say

“Then please call me Lone, so you wished to have me sign an NDA yes?” I nodded, and he pulled it out and handed it to me. I read it through before signing it first then he followed suit. When he looked at the NDA he blushed a bit, like a fan would before their idol. In fact it was rather endearing. 

“Apologies. If you wouldn’t mind, I'd like to discuss a contract.” He said. 

“S-shouldn’t you read my transcript first?” I asked

“W-well yes, however I meant a potential contract.” I nodded, “So this is how this will go, I’ll need you to send you transcript over to have me review it and when I finish reviewing it I will email or call you to give you my decision on signing a full contract, when this happens I would like to discuss other details of the novel. Does this make sense?” I nodded and he smiled before getting up. I followed him before holding out my hand he took it and with a gleeful smile shook it, “It was a pleasure to meet you Y/n.” I nodded 

“Likewise Lone.”  Over the next week I was riddled with anxiety and when I got that call I was exceedingly nervous but I took it and heard his voice. 

“Are you free to discuss signing a contract with Northland publishing house?” 

“W-when?” I ask

“As early as possible, tonight if we could,” 

“I-I’m free after 10 PM, will that work?” I ask

“Yes, any place you’d wish to meet at?” I bit my lip.

“Umm, Not really.” I say. 

“I’ll set up a reservation at Yue Pavillon, will that be alright.” I chuckled, accepting. The phone hung up and I groaned, I really didn’t have that kind of money. I chose to worry later, but later came much sooner and headed to the meeting place where I saw Lone and he hurried to me saying I was his guest and led me to the table. For the most part Lone was extremely kind, and spoke of my way of writing and my plotline saying it was something he never even saw coming, he also was curious which boy Addison would choose. Eventually after dinner and some glasses of wine he was happily talking to me almost as if I were a friend.

“I-I apologize if I am too involved in the story. In fact when I started I knew I was trapped. I’m so excited to be signing with such talent. In fact I don’t think anything I’ve ever read has brought out as much reaction as yours had. I felt like I was in a trance.” He complimented which caused him to drunkenly ask something, “Speaking of which are those rather, erotic scenes. Were those translated from videos or personal experiences?”

“Personal, I didn’t know how either person felt or how it’d feel and thus I wished to have a genuine telling of the scene.” He giggled. 

“I thought so, it sounded too good for it having a video reference.” He chuckled, “You know, I’m not supposed to ask this but would you be willing to use a night with me as reference material?” Lone asked, his eyes were hazy and the blush he had gained made him adorable.

“I believe it is inappropriate to do such things to someone who would be considered my boss.” I say, within an instant his expression dropped and was all pouty. He bit his lip before lighting up. 

“I won’t be your boss until after you sign the contract, unless you dislike working for people you sleep with.” He sighed, “Oh! I could always assign a different editor, that way your work wouldn’t be funneled to me at all, that would make it so I wasn’t your boss!” He smiled like a child, “We could do that, right?”

I chuckled and reached over to take his drink, “So the editorial manager was going to edit my transcripts? I didn’t think I would have such an honor.” I say. 

“Are you kidding! H-how could I not read that masterpiece! I had to wait for months just to gain the confidence to approach you with stupid post-it notes. I honestly can’t believe such a talented person wasn’t earning money from their work. In all honesty I read your transcript within a day. I wanted to call you the moment after but I chose to read some of your posted work. The way you write is eye-catching and the plotlines, you took hated tropes and made them likable. Then there were those scenes, they were in so much detail and described them so much I couldn’t help trying to replicate them myself, I-I was in a trance with everything I read.” Lone praised, only making me blush in return. He was my mystery reader. 

“You were my mystery reader?” I ask

“I-I. . .I don’t think I should’ve told you that.” He giggled, “It was a funny chance. I was meeting someone in the coffee shop for publishing reasons and when they were describing their drag of a novel I caught a glimpse of yours and began reading it from afar. I was in awe of your talent. Of course that meet-up ended as I wasn’t interested. But after that I made it a goal to stop by that coffee shop to see if you were there. After a few days I learned your schedule.” Lone said, he tried reaching for his drink which I held away from him. 

“I can’t believe you managed to keep your composure when I was sitting in your office a week ago.” I smirked, he whined and I felt his legs become restless. 

“I r-really wasn’t, I made so many slip-ups. Such as the contract and then when you shook my hand, it felt like my body was on fire.” I smiled.

“If I knew you were such a big fan I would’ve given you an autograph.” I say, he whined and covered his mouth. I sighed and stood up, “you offered yourself as reference material, that offer is still open?” I ask

“Y-yes, i-it’ll always be open.” He said, stunned. 

“Then, shouldn’t we head to a hotel? Or would you rather do this in your own bed so you could relive the memories?” I went close to his ear, taking his hand in mine. 

“M-mine, my bed. . .please.” I smiled and helped him up. Lone called someone and a black car appeared and we got in and Lone told them to take him home, thank god I use the subways. When I got to his apartment building he opened the door and let me in. I waited for him to open his door while making sure my hands were on his hips and I was kissing his neck. 

“F-fuck. . .That- T-there!” Lone managed to open the door and I didn’t let him go in, simply allowing him to hold the door open as I continued my kisses. 

“Y/n~ T-The door is opened, we can go in.” I hummed at his words, “p-please? M-my neighbors might see us.” he whined, I sighed and went inside and closed the door before pressing him against the wall. I continued to hold his hips against mine, as my kisses littered his neck. 

“Are you sure you want this? We can still stop.” I say, he turned to face me with an alluring look as he wrapped his arms around my neck. 

“I want this, use me, please?” I smiled and slammed my lips on his as he grinded on my thigh thinking I didn’t realize. I pulled away from him and saw his darling little expression, his lips were pink and plump as he panted. 

“Well, we we going to fuck here or your bed?” I ask, he gulped and hurriedly lead me to his bedroom where I noticed many toys scattered around, there were dildos that were suctioned onto the wood floor, then there were cuffs, blindfolds, gags on the bed, but what caught my attention the most was the magic wand and a chastity cage. He is either really kinky or bought this to replicate my scenes. I watched as he knocked down many of the toys to the floor but I smirked at his eagerness. 

“You really did try to replicate my scenes.” I said picking up a gag, Lone quickly grabbed it hiding behind his back embarrassed. 

“I-I’m not a liar.” He said. 

“I can tell, there's dried cum staining your floor. In fact I find it rather endearing.” I say. He whined and grabbed the belt loops on my jeans pulling me close. 

“Play with me?” He whimpered, I chuckled and pet his head before latch our lips together making him humm happily only to feel something wet against my face, I pulled away to see Lone crying, shit did I tease him to much?

“D-damn it.” He sniffled. 

“Hey, are you alright?” I asked, going on my knees.

“Yeah, yeah.” He mumbled, “T-this happens a-all the time.” I tilted my head. 

“I-I’m not sad s-so please keep going.” I nodded and wiped his tears before pinning him to the bed, He continued to cry but he kept insisting he was alright and he wanted to keep going so I took the bindings I can only assume were on the bed to keep his hands away. Thankfully he had taken his jacket off in the car because it was hot and so he was left in his suit pants and a black button-up. I ripped his shirt open and got rid of his shoes, socks and pants with ease leaving him in his underwear which only had him crying more. I smiled and leaned into him whispering small praises while rubbing my thumb against his thigh. 

“I got you darling, it’s alright your safe.” Lone sniffled,

“I-I told you I’m not sad.” He protested.

“I know, but I want to stare into your pretty eyes.” I say, I soothed him a little longer and his tears became simple sniffles. When that happened I pulled off his boxers freeing his cock which was happily standing proud. I planted a kiss on his tip which had him bite his lip and throw his head back, poor boy is so sensitive. 

“Are you ready Sweetie?” I look up. 

“Mmhmm.” I dove onto his cock having him moaning. I swirled my tongue around the tip allowing him to feel the pleasure his sensitive cock was going through. He began moving his legs, they even started to shake. He was oh so needy, eventually when I went to pull off Lone pushed me back onto his cock by using his legs to hold me in place. I smirked and used my tongue against his slit, having him scream. 

“Y-Y/n! W-wait! I’ll. . .I’ll!” Lone’s legs moved and right before he reached his high I pulled away having a ruined orgasm that had his hips bucking, “Y/n! I-I want more, more, more, please, give me more!” He begged. I hovered over him, wiping some tears away kissing him softly as he whined. 

“It’s alright, I don’t plan on stopping, there’s no need to beg.” He sniffled, “Would you like another?” I asked, he nodded and I wrapped my hand around his cock and began pumping him slowly. I made sure to go slow so the overstimulation could work him back up, Lone was crying again and his legs were shaking. He was moaning loudly despite my actions. I kept kissing him to occupy his mouth when I realized the reason why he had so many gags, it’s because he was loud as shit. I stopped my hand and moved away Lone already looked so fucked out. 

“Would you like a gag Lone?” I ask, he shook his head trying to get me back to ruining him, “Do you mind if I use some toys?” Another shake, so I got up and found a strap that just happened to be strapped onto a large teddy bear, then there was the magic wand and nipple clamps, when I went back to Lone he was squirming. I plugged in the wand and made sure to kiss Lone while I placed a clamp on each nipple which made his whine. When I managed to calm him down from the clamps I turned on the wand placing it on his nipples. 

“F-fuck~ I-I wanna cum!” I wrapped my hand around his cock once more and Lone was whining as his tongue hung between his lips, his eyes rolled back and Lone somehow managed to take his restraints into his hands pulling on them. I smiled, I was working my magic on my soon-to-be-boss, and he was crying so helplessly, but he continued to beg for more as I was already allowing him an orgasm. 

“I-I’m coming! Y/n! I’m cumming!” I kissed Lone’s eyes, having him cum, his cum reached his chest and I turned off the wand and let go of his cock peppering kisses over his face. 

“You're doing so good Lone, You’re being such a good boy.” He was so dazed, but as he was being praised he came back and smiled like a goof, “Would you like one more orgasm?” I ask

“Pwease~~” I smiled and kissed his lips.

“Good boy,” I undressed myself leaving my body in my underwear as I strapped the strap-on to my hips, and moved to lift Lone’s hips just slightly to see a plug in his ass. I smirked and kissed him, “You really planned to have me in your bed tonight huh? You prepped and everything.” He giggled, and I pulled the plug out and replaced the plug with the strap. Lone's tears came out like a waterfall when his toy was replaced. 

“It’s alright darling boy, I got you, breathe, I promise you’ll be alright.” He was smiling as he continued to try and free himself, “Would you like to hold onto me?” I ask

“Pwease, pwease!” I kissed him softly and freed him by rubbing and kissing his now red wrists. When I began moving Lone pulled me into a kiss as tears fell I made sure this final orgasm was slow and passionate to welcome Lone back from his taxing headspace. It didn’t take long for him to cum as he came twice before. When he finished I pulled off of him and out of him, he was so sleepy after his orgasms that I took off his shirt throwing it on the floor. I then went around to gather all the used toys going to find the bathroom. When I did I began cleaning the toys in the bathroom and placed a towel on the counter to allow them to dry. I then brought a wet rag to the room cleaning all of the obvious stains and cleaning Lone himself before gathering the clothes and going to find the washing machine and putting them to wash. I returned back and took out some pj’s and dressed Lone and took a shirt to sleep in. When I finally sorted everything out I moved Lone under the covers and got under them having Lone snuggle up to my body.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin imagines #sub!genshin #genshin impact #sub!genshin impact #dom!reader #favonian archive #sub!pantalone

[tomhiddleston]

One More Tomorrow (Billy Taylor x Fem!Reader) - Chapter II.

CHAPTER I.

Summary: Billy's crush returns to The Halcyon for her seventeenth birthday and the two of them enjoy more chances to grow closer.

Pairing: Billy Taylor x Fem!Reader (third person)

TW: so much fluff, blink and you miss it Billy having some impure thoughts, mention of death of a parent, Billy being Billy again

Word Count: 5.5k+

A/N: I love Billy Taylor so much that I want to scream, explode out of my body, and ascend to the moon. That's the author's note. Also, thanks again to @valeskafics for giving this a read-through for me! c:

Disclaimer: I do not own any The Halcyon characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are always appreciated!

Art deco dividers by @saradika

It is the longest summer of Billy’s life, waiting for the months to tick by and November to finally arrive. Every day is just another shift. The same old thing day in and day out. Now and then, Billy catches himself staring wistfully at the marble staircase as though he will see her coming down to have lunch with her father or pop out for a bit of shopping. He even starts dreaming about her. About taking her dancing or going on a drive through the country. One morning he wakes up blushing after dreaming about her in a wedding dress, walking down the aisle toward him in a church filled to the brim with white roses. 

Does she dream about him, too?

The stiflingly hot summer months wane on and Billy continually bothers Mr. Garland about the Greenes’ return visit to The Halcyon. Every time he asks, the answer is the same: there has been no request yet about any birthday party, whether for Mr. Greene or his daughter. Billy starts to wonder if she won’t return in the fall. If, maybe, she’s found a beau in Birmingham - one she would rather celebrate her birthday with. One her father might actually approve of.

He starts to mope around The Halcyon when August turns into September with still no word, enough that even Mr. Garland begins to notice. His mum, Peggy, has seen the most of his gloomy mood out of anyone, what with having to watch him drag his feet around their house every morning and night. “It’s about that girl again,” she tells Mr. Garland and both share a sigh. Young love can be such an overwhelming, complicated thing. But this is Billy’s first time coming face to face with it, and she hates to see her sweet boy - her eldest child and only son - like this.

Peggy is, therefore, elated when a letter arrives at The Halcyon addressed to Billy. When he arrives to have tea with her that afternoon, she wiggles her finger at the mailboxes beside her desk and tells him to look. 

But who would write to him? His confused expression only warrants a smile from his mother.

“It’s from Birmingham, Billy.”

He very nearly throws his teacup to the ground to lunge for the letter. Sure enough, that’s his name written in delicate cursive on the back of the envelope. His heart is pounding out of his chest as he tears open the letter and finds an automobile sketch inside with a single folded piece of paper. A handwritten letter so perfect that it almost looks printed.

Dear Billy,

Mr. Garland said you liked my father’s automobiles, so I managed to get one of his original sketches of the Model F for you. It’s not much, but I hope you will like it all the same.

I’ll see you in November.

She’s signed the letter “yours truly.” Not “sincerely,” not “regards.” He’ll be pouring over the meaning of that one for days. But, no matter the meaning of the signature… she’s remembered him. She’s thought of him. She’s taken the time to write to him! And she does still plan on returning to The Halcyon. 

Suddenly, his dreary summer no longer feels so dreary.

November 1939.

The leaves on the trees lining the streets of London have turned orange and fallen. The grass, once kissed with glittering morning dew, slumps from the heavy frost that coats it each sunrise. It hasn’t snowed yet, but winter’s chill is beginning to set in in earnest. 

None of the ladies at The Halcyon dare step through the front doors without their heavy coats, gloves, and scarves any longer lest they catch their death, they lament. The fireplaces roar at all hours to offer some heat to the towering lobby. The doormen keep the doors shut as much as possible to trap the warmth inside. Cold manages to seep in every now and then when an unfortunately timed breeze blows through just as someone is stepping in or out, but it’s never severe enough to linger.

It is only a few weeks before The Halcyon’s lobby will be stripped of its usual flowers, vases, and other decorative trinkets and decked out in full Christmastime splendor. But first, the hotel must play host to the seventeenth birthday party of a certain young woman. And her father has spared no expense in decorating the lobby and the bar for the occasion. 

Before the Greenes even arrive, the lobby is filled with dozens of arrangements of white and pink roses in gold vases. Mr. Greene even commissioned a special tiered gold chandelier for the occasion, which hangs low over a stunning centerpiece of peonies, hydrangeas, roses, and lilies enhanced with sparkling Swarovski crystals. 

The other bellboys whinge about the decorations being too much, but Billy just brushes them off. He knows in his heart that they aren’t enough. Every flower in the world wouldn’t be enough to match her beauty.

He’s proven himself correct when the front doors swing open and she walks in, arm linked with her father’s while the other holds onto her dog’s lead. Billy has made sure that he is the one to take her coat and hat. He notices the coy smile on her rouged lips as he slips the coat off of her shoulders and the soft blush that blooms on her cheeks when his fingers brush against her upper arm. 

“Hello, miss,” he mutters softly, unable to hide his own smile. His heart is full to bursting at being so close to her again. The warm, rosy scent of her perfume is filling his nostrils and making his head spin.

“Hi,” she whispers over her shoulder, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “It’s good to see you.”

“You…” Billy’s mouth has gone so dry that he can’t finish what was meant to be a two-word sentence. He clears his throat to no avail. “Uh huh.”

She’s quickly whisked away by her father and Mr. Garland, who are eager to show off the decorations to her. It’s clear that she isn’t used to such grand gestures, seeing how she nervously clasps her hands in front of her and shifts from one foot to the other. Billy drinks in the sight of her, in her pale blue dress that he guesses has been tailored to fit her judging by the way it so perfectly hugs her every curve. His eyes linger perhaps a little too long on her bum because he hears Feldman clear his throat. 

“Come along, lover boy. Luggage to unload.”

Billy doesn’t see her again until the following afternoon, when he is sent up to her room to take her dog out for a walk. She’s otherwise preoccupied, Feldman says. If it were for anyone else - even His Lordship himself - Billy would have groaned and grumbled about having to stumble about the streets of London being dragged along by a dog. He doesn’t even want to think about the more than few occasions when he’s lost control of a dog’s lead and left the guest’s beloved pet to run amok in the streets. He’s had to dodge cars chasing after more than one poodle or bulldog, only to return to The Halcyon completely out of breath and with his bellboy hat and cloak all askew.

But he won’t let that happen to her dog. There is no way that he will treat this dog as anything but the most precious jewel in the world. 

Walking toward the lobby, he has wrapped the lead around his wrist twice so there is no possibility for the dog to break free. He does thank his lucky stars that the dog is so small and well behaved. Even less of a chance to muck things up. Still… he can’t help but feel nerves churning in his stomach at the thought of something happening to the animal.

“Alright there, Clara?” he asks the corgi as she trots along happily beside him down the stairs. “It’s you and me today. Please be good, yeah?”

“Don’t worry. She always is.” 

Billy freezes. He knows that voice. 

When he looks up, his eyes meet hers. He’s been standing at his post by the door all day, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, but he wasn’t expecting to see her right now. His free hand tugs at his uniform jacket to make sure he looks perfectly tidy and in order.

“Clara, are you going for a walk with Billy today?” She coos in a high-pitched voice to the dog, who spins in a circle in excitement. He watches a small crinkle form at the corner of her eye as she smiles at her beloved pet. Her cheeks and nose are pink from the cold and her hair is windswept, but she still looks as lovely as ever. “Do you… mind if I join you?”

“N-not at all,” Billy replies, sounding more nervous than he’d like to. “Bit cold out, though.” No, he reprimands himself. Don’t try to dissuade her, you idiot! He’s fidgeting with his hands again like he does every time he talks to her. Get it together, Billy.

“It is, but… I need a break from all this last-minute party planning. If I have to look at another table setting, I think I’ll die of boredom.” She rolls her eyes dramatically to emphasize her hyperbole, but Billy still prickles at the mere thought of it. 

“I don’t want you to die,” he responds with a little too much sincerity. But he means it. He can’t think of anything that would be worse.

“All the more reason for me to join you, then, Billy.” 

Her smile softens the tightness in his jaw. He offers a crooked grin in return, but he’s kicking himself inside. Will he ever stop making a fool of himself in front of this girl? He could tell himself a thousand times to act normally around her and he would still muck it all up the second he opens his mouth to speak to her. And yet, she doesn’t seem to mind? She might even… like him? 

He reckons he’ll never understand girls.

Their walk with Clara winds up being the longest they’ve ever spent alone together. It’s so much more than a stolen glance across the hotel lobby or a few minutes spent chatting when he brings her tea. They are strolling through Hyde Park side by side, almost in a world of their own. This isn’t the time of year when mums are out with their babies in prams or old couples are walking hand in hand among the trees. Due to the cold, the park is uncharacteristically empty and quiet, save for their own shoes crunching along the stone path and the jingle of Clara’s collar.

But the very best part is that Billy has gotten a chance to hold a proper conversation with her. If by “conversation” he means “letting her tell him about herself while he bloody clams up yet again.” She tells him about her life in Birmingham, about a book she’s reading, about her father’s company. Anything and everything. He’s happy to hear her talk. He’d listen to her read the dictionary aloud if it meant he could hear the sound of her bright, sweet voice. She has a way of softening the inflection at the end of her sentences that is so warm, so comforting. 

“Billy.” His head snaps toward her like it does every time she says his name. “Is it true that your mum works at The Halcyon, too?”

“Yeah… she’s the telephonist.”

“Oh. I’ve spoken to her, then.” A realization dawns on her and she laughs, throwing her head back in a way that makes his ears go hot. “Oh… Mrs. Taylor. I’m so silly. I should have known. She seems nice.” 

“She is.” Billy wrinkles his nose. “Bit overbearing, though. Sometimes…” He’s convinced that his mum still sees him as her little boy the way she treats him at times. Fussing over his hair, fixing his collar, tying his shoes. As if he isn’t turning eighteen next year. 

“Yeah, but that’s just her being your mum, isn’t it? They’re supposed to be like that. It just means she loves you.”

Billy shrugs. Doesn’t make his mum any less annoying about it. “What about your mum?” 

He realizes he’s well and truly stepped in it when he sees her face fall. He had wondered why only she and her father had been to The Halcyon, but guessed that maybe her mum didn’t fancy traveling. But the way she purses her lips and stares at her feet as they continue walking suggests something else. 

“She died when I was four.” 

“Oh–” Billy feels his heart sink at having brought up such a sorrowful memory. He wants to apologize a million times and it wouldn’t be enough to convey how sorry he is.

“Please don’t feel bad about asking. It’s been so long that I… I don’t really remember her. It’s just been me and dad all this time. And he makes sure I know that I’m loved.” She laughs dryly. “I mean, look at how completely overboard he’s gone with this birthday party. I guess that’s his version of being overbearing.”

Billy’s expression softens. “Well, but… you deserve it, though. I’d throw you a party like that. If I had the money.” He realizes what he’s just said and hurriedly attempts to cover his tracks. “I mean…! If I was your dad. No–” Bloody hell, you’ve just made it worse. 

She laughs in the same way she does whenever he fumbles over his words with her. Not laughing at him, not laughing like he’s stupid like other people tend to do. It’s a genuine, sweet laugh accompanied by that glimmer in her eyes that he loves so much. He pulls his lips inward as he feels new heat rush to his cheeks. 

“Did you get my letter, Billy? From this summer?”

His previous embarrassment almost completely forgotten, his face lights up in a wide grin. He becomes more animated than he’s ever been around her, almost bouncing along the path beside her. She clearly notices, judging by the way she smiles.

“Oh, god. Yeah, I did…! That sketch by your dad… that was bloody incredible!”  

She laughs again, a laugh that seems to warm the air around them. “I’m so glad you liked it.” 

“Liked it? I… I loved it. The Model F is the most brilliant car on the market. But you… know that…” Billy stops himself before he begins to fanboy even more. He feels a little flutter in his heart as he glances sideways at her, though. He dips his head a bit in a moment of sudden bashfulness. “Can’t believe you… you know. Thought of me.”

“‘Course I did.”

Billy turns it over again and again in his mind, trying to decipher the meaning of her words. If he weren’t such an idiot, he’d come right out and ask her. But the words bloom and die on his tongue in an instant. 

He can’t remember a time when a girl ever looked twice at him, let alone thought of him when they weren’t together. Had she really taken time to think about him when she had returned home to Birmingham? Did she think of him when she took tea every afternoon, or when she removed her coat upon stepping inside her house? 

His silence eventually prompts her to prod him with a question of her own.

“Did… you think of me, too, Billy?”

His eyes are wide when he turns to her. He doesn’t mean to stare at her like some startled animal, but he can’t bloody help it. The thought of divulging the truth to her strikes the fear of God in him. 

“Yeah, I did,” is all he can manage to push past the frog in his throat.

Yes, he thought of her. He thought of her every morning as he stepped foot into the hotel lobby. He thought of her whenever he passed the flower shop at the end of his street and smelled the freshly cut roses they had for sale. He thought of her on rainy days, on sunny days. He thought of her morning and night. 

Even his younger sister, Dora, eventually started to notice how Billy seemed to float around their house whenever he would start to think about her. Being only eight years old, it had been a prime opportunity for the younger Taylor sibling to tease her brother relentlessly. But not even Dora’s incessant needling could have dissuaded Billy from thinking about the charming, beautiful girl from Birmingham who had smiled at him and made him feel wanted. Nothing could.

That’s what Billy would have said to her if he’d had the courage to do so. 

Instead, he just manages to flash a shy little smile that seems to satisfy her because she responds with one of her own. 

“Will I see you around at my party tomorrow night?” 

“Yeah… I’ll be working.” 

She doesn’t know that he begged and pleaded with one of the other bellboys to switch shifts with him so that he could be there. He doesn’t tend to work such late evenings. His mum prefers him to be home for dinner. But he would have done anything to be there for her party, even if it means that he will be stood by the door taking hats and coats all night.

“I wish you could come to the party itself,” she mutters softly, perhaps thinking that he can’t hear her. She sounds so earnest that it gives him butterflies. “My dad and my cousin Margaret won’t tell me what they’ve got planned, but I think it'll be a real gas.”

Billy knows he may be a bit daft sometimes, but he isn’t stupid enough to think that he could be anything but a bellboy at her party. When he’s alone with her, it feels a bit like they aren’t from different social classes. That the earrings she wears aren’t real diamonds and her clothes haven’t come from the finest shops in London. That he isn’t a lad from down the street who’s never owned anything that wasn’t second hand. She treats him like he’s someone. Someone worth talking to, worth listening to. Someone who is more than just another worker whose name she’ll forget by the next day.

It brings him crashing back down to earth every time he steps out of their little bubble and back into the real world. In the end, he’s just a bellboy. And she’s a beautiful heiress. Love, affection, even friendship between people like them is something forbidden. That is something that Billy must constantly remind himself of. It hangs in the very air around them whenever he is with her. But it does not stop him from wanting her.

“I’m sure you’ll have a great time,” Billy says, and he means it. “I hope you do.”

Billy laments that they’ve been walking for long enough that The Halcyon has come back into view. Their approach spells the end of their walk together. It’s a return to that real world where they must go their separate ways; him, to his work, and her, to her glittering, beautiful life. 

The hotel lobby welcomes them back with the warmth of the fireplaces, which helps them begin to shake off the November chill. Theirs is a quick goodbye as her cousin pulls her away, shrilly and breathlessly admonishing her for disappearing when there is still so much to do for the party. But she’s sure to give Billy one last tender smile before she disappears into the restaurant.

There’s hardly any room to breathe, let alone move, through The Halcyon lobby on the night of her seventeenth birthday party. If anyone thought there had been too many flowers in the room before, then they would have had to rethink their definition of “excess” upon seeing the state of the lobby tonight. 

Flowers, mostly white roses, cover every pillar, frame every doorway, cover every rung on the bannister. There is even an archway created entirely from flowers at the top of the staircase - the perfect setting for the birthday girl’s grand entrance. And the gold accents have only been expanded upon since the day before. In some places, the light bounces off of the gold candelabras and vases in such a way that it casts a warm reflection on the walls and floor. It’s the most extravagant affair that Billy has seen at The Halcyon in more than a year of working there.

And it’s all for her.

The buzz in the room dies down in an instant when Mr. Greene appears in the archway at the top of the stairs, delivering a short speech about the gathering of family and friends that is eloquent without any of the stuffiness of having been rehearsed. It’s clear by the reaction of the crowd that he has a natural charisma about him - something that his daughter has clearly inherited from him. 

Billy’s eyes widen as she steps out from behind the flowers after being beckoned by her father. There must be a hundred people packed into the lobby, but it’s as though a spotlight has been shined on her. Flash bulbs pop and the room erupts into applause. But all that seems to exist in this moment… is her.

Billy enjoys the perfect view of her from where he stands beside Feldman by front doors. She’s wearing her hair in an elegant updo with roses pinned into her low bun. Her gold floor length gown cascades around her like a sparkling waterfall, flowing over each step of the staircase as she and her father begin to descend arm in arm. The dress is modest, with long sleeves and a v-neck that doesn’t show off too much. But the gold fabric gathers at the waist in a way that accentuates her lovely figure. Billy can’t help but bristle at the thought of all the young men who will get to dance with her tonight and rest their hands on the soft curve of her waist.

But when her eyes meet his from across the room - however briefly - all his jealousy and longing melts away in an instant. 

Billy spends the rest of the evening at his post but finds himself craning his neck each time the door to the hotel bar opens, on the off chance that he will catch a glimpse of her in her beautiful gold dress. He thinks he does once or twice, but he can never be sure. 

The night wanes on and Billy begins to yawn. He’s never worked this late before. If he wasn’t here, he’d probably be fast asleep by now. Feldman tries to send him home at half past eleven, but he just shrugs him off. 

“Billy, you’re falling asleep standing up. Go home.”

Billy hums and shakes his head, lifting a hand to his face to rub at his eyes. “Can’t go yet.”

“What are you waiting for, Billy? For me to have to carry your ugly mug home because you’ve fallen asleep on the job?” Feldman’s rising annoyance with him makes him blush.

“I…” Billy stares at his feet. “Could you do me a favor, Feldman?”

Fifteen minutes later, Billy is pacing back and forth in the dark restaurant on the opposite end of the hotel from the bar. The chairs have been flipped and placed atop the tables for the night. The silverware sits, polished and ready for the next day. The curtains are drawn across the floor-to-ceiling windows, with only the softest light from the street lamps outside filtering through them. Only the sconces on either side of the door offer any real light to the room. 

Billy has removed his bellboy hat and nervously sweeps his palm over his slicked-back hair to ensure that not even a single hair is out of place. In his free hand, he clutches a small, wrapped box with such a vice grip that his knuckles have gone white. And he continues to pace and pace and pace while he waits for the restaurant door to open.

When he sees the small crack of light at the door begin to grow and spread across the carpet, he stands at full attention with his hands behind his back. Somehow, his heart begins to beat more quickly than it already has been when she peers around the door. Her furrowed brow softens the moment she lays eyes on him.

“Billy… hi.” She’s smiling, and the light beside the door hits her face in a way that gives her an angelic glow. “Heard you wanted to see me.”

If only she knew just how badly he’s wanted to see her all night. He drinks in the sight of her, looking her up and down. He notices little details that he didn’t see from across the room earlier. The teardrop earrings she’s wearing that match her necklace. The little curled strands of hair that fall on either side of her face. The pink lipstick that’s different from the red she usually wears. He’s sure to be quick about it, not wanting it to seem like he’s asked her there just to ogle at her. 

“You look…” 

“Exhausted?” She jokes, but the sincerity on his face gives her pause.

“Beautiful.”

The lighting may be a bit rubbish for seeing her properly, but even he can tell that he’s made her blush. Her hand flies to her cheek as if to hide her smile. Her eyes fall to the floor. Surely she’s been complimented dozens of times tonight. He reckons - he hopes - that his has meant the most of them all.

“Thank you, Billy,” she breathes, finally pulling herself together enough to respond. “You look handsome, too.”

He’s caught completely off guard. The very air seems to leave his lungs. At first, all he can do is shake his head and let out a nervous laugh. “I’m… just in me uniform…” 

She takes a step toward him and he swallows hard. It still feels so hard to bloody breathe. “But you always look handsome… doesn’t matter what you’re wearing.”

It’s by some small miracle that Billy doesn’t fall to the ground unconscious right then and there. He very nearly drops the gift he’s still holding behind his back. It’s only when he has to fumble to catch it so it doesn’t tumble to the ground that he remembers why he had Feldman have her come see him.

“I… I, uh…” he flounders trying to speak again. “Bout to be off for the night, but, uh… didn’t wanna leave til…” He clears his throat. “Til I gave you this.”

“What?” He sees her eyes narrow suspiciously, although she keeps her lips turned up in a smile.  

Billy takes a step toward her, dotting out his tongue to wet his lips. “Close your eyes… and hold out your hands.” 

She does exactly as he asks, letting her eyes fall closed before she extends her perfectly manicured hands. Into her cupped palms, he placed the little box he’s kept in his locker all night. He’s seen the pile of gifts that she’s received tonight, the big boxes with their shiny wrapping paper and bags tied up with perfect bows. The one in her hands is no bigger than a makeup compact, and wrapped in crinkled newspaper with a paltry, crooked bow made out of twine. It’s hardly the most glamorous gift she’s gotten, probably ever. He almost feels embarrassed as he sees it resting atop her hands.

When she opens her eyes and sees what he’s given her, she doesn’t react in disappointment. Rather, Billy watches her face light up in a smile.

“Billy… you didn’t have to–”  

Billy rocks back onto his heels and offers a little shrug. “I know… but I… I had to get you something for your birthday. You only turn seventeen once.”

She’s holding the little gift as though it’s a delicate baby bird. “Do you want me to open it now?”

“Well, I– I mean, you don’t have to…” What if she didn’t like it? She wouldn’t have to pretend to be grateful if he wasn’t there when she unwrapped her gift.

But his words go in one of her ears and out of the other. She carefully plucks the bow open and unveils the ruby red box that’s been hiding beneath the newspaper. Inside it, she finds a delicate rose brooch. The stem is made out of a shiny gold that matches all the gold accents dotted about the hotel lobby. The petals themselves are white. Billy thinks he remembers the shopkeeper say that it’s porcelain. 

“Happy birthday.”

“Oh, Billy…” she whispers as she admires the brooch.

He saved up for months to buy it for her after seeing it in the window of the pawn shop down the road from his house on his way home from work one day. His mum and dad usually expect him to chip in for necessities now that he’s employed. “It’s your money, Billy,” his mum said to him when he asked if he could keep a little more to save for the brooch. He put away every penny he could after that. What should have taken him six months to save up, he saved in only four. 

“I, uh… saw it and thought of you,” Billy says warmly. “I know how you… like roses and all…” 

She delicately lifts the brooch from its box and lays it flat in her palm to see it better in the light. She turns it over and over again, treasuring every last detail. And all the while, the smile in her eyes shimmers brighter than the sun.

“Billy, this is so… incredible. It’s beautiful…” 

“Yeah…?” He feels a sense of pride, hearing her genuine gratitude and seeing her joy. 

“Yeah.” She finally looks up at him and he felt his stomach flip. “Billy, it’s perfect. I love it. I love it so much…” She reaches out to take his hand and wraps her fingers around his. Her touch is soft and warm against the calloused pads of his fingers and palm. Bloody hell, how many times can he nearly faint in front of her in one evening?

For a fleeting moment, there’s a force that draws them closer to one another. His senses are overwhelmed by the smell of her perfume, the warmth of her hand in his, the sight of her face so close to his. But he’s a bloody idiot as always and stands completely frozen in place. He wants to lean down and press his lips to hers, but his muscles won’t move.

He clears his throat. “Can I… put it on for you?” 

He sees disappointment flash across her face before she pulls away. She’s quick to replace it with a sweet grin, but he knows he’s missed his chance. He’ll be kicking himself for weeks for this. Stupid, stupid coward. 

“Please.” 

His hands are shaking as he takes the brooch from her and fumbles to clasp it to the front of her dress, just below her left shoulder. 

“How does it look?” she asks.

Billy can think of a million ways to describe her beauty in this moment. Not just the way the brooch looks on her, but everything about her. In the end, he smiles crookedly and settles on the one he thinks encapsulates her best.

“Exquisite.” 

Their time together is short as always. Her party can’t go on without the guest of honor and he can finally allow Feldman to send him home now that he’s given her her gift. His mum’s probably waiting up to make sure he gets home safe and it’s nearing midnight, now.

“Billy, we’re leaving for home in the morning,” she tells him as if he doesn’t already know that. “I guess… you’re off tomorrow.”

In any other situation, he’d be glad that Feldman wasn’t making him come in first thing after working such a late shift. But now it means that he won’t be there to see her off like he did the last time. 

“Can I write to you again, Billy? After I get home?” 

“Of course.” His earlier embarrassment at having denied her a kiss is somewhat dulled by the assurance that she wants to keep in touch. “But my handwriting’s a bit rubbish…”

She laughs. “I’m sure it’s fine. I’d… like to see it. Be sure to write back. Promise?”

“Promise.”

Satisfied, she pulls open the door but stops in the doorway. “Thank you again, Billy. For my present. It’s the best one I’ve gotten tonight.” She chews on her bottom lip, lingering on the boundary between the restaurant and the lobby for just a moment longer. She presses her cheek to the edge of the mahogany door, staring at him as though she doesn’t want to go. But eventually she relents as calls of her name echo through the lobby and she is beckoned back to the party.

And Billy watches dreamily until long after the bar door shuts behind her. 

Tag list:

@sepherinaspoppies

(Let me know if you'd like to be added!)

#billy taylor x reader #billy taylor x fem!reader #billy taylor x you #billy taylor #the halcyon #the halcyon itv #the halcyon fanfic #ewan mitchell #one more tomorrow

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

Predator and Prey: Chapter One

Pairing: Tommy Cahill x Reader

Ongoing Series - Loosely based on ‘Sleeping With the Enemy’

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Minors do not interact, Slow Burn, War Inaccuracies, Mention of PTSD but barely, Stalking, Abuse, Sexual Themes, Alcohol, I think that’s it?

Summary: You move to a small town following a bad breakup around the time Tommy goes to Prison, 3 years later you meet and build a relationship, but will your jealous, angry ex ever really let you go?

Notes: Hiiii! This is my first fic since I was like, 13? So apologies if I’ve missed anything! I’m also UK based trying to write as an American so writing styles and words may differ, but I do try! I just feel like we need more Jake Gyllenhaal fics, and I love a slow burn and some thrills so enjoy! Reblogs and comments welcome :)

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You groaned as your phones alarm clock chimed on your bedside table, the repetitive high pitched dings already putting you in a bad mood for the day.

You slammed your hand on your phone and blindly prodded the screen in the hopes of turning it off, eventually managing to hit the correct spot.

You lay in your dark room, preparing yourself to get up and out of bed for your day of work. It was only Tuesday but it had already been a long week.

After getting dressed, brushing your teeth and hair, and putting on a little bit of makeup, you set out the door. It was still dark out and the only light illuminating the street ahead was from the old street lights that lined the pavement.

The walk to work was only 10 minutes long, but that morning it felt a lot longer, as you couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on you. You turned around to check if anyone was around several times, finding nothing but the odd cat or trash can lining the street.

You eventually made it to work and had enough time to make yourself a cup of coffee before flipping the ‘Closed’ sign to ‘Open’.

The day was slower than normal with very few customers walking into your little book store, which was something you could understand with the town being as small as it was, but you had a few regular book worms who would frequent your shop due to the lack of a library in the area. You bided your time by straightening the shelves and readjusting the pillows on the couches in each of the cosy corners by the windows, counting down the minutes and hours until you could close up and go home to your dog, just to do it all again the next day.

On Wednesday evenings your store played host to a soup kitchen due to the large prep area in the back, as your store was once a small Chinese Restaurant before you bought it. You’d agreed to it being used when your store was closed but soon found yourself volunteering to help chop up vegetables and serve, and you enjoyed it more than you thought you would, making it a recurring Wednesday tradition, so at least tomorrow you’d have something to keep yourself busy with.

It wasn’t all bad though, the time you had on your hands. Most afternoons once you had closed up shop, you’d take your dog, Jet, down to the local park to play fletch. Or you’d catch up on your own reading, or try a new recipe only for it to cost you more than takeout and taste nothing like what you’d hoped. It did get lonely though, with the only family you had living on opposite ends of the country, at times you’d considered moving closer to them, but you’d come to love the little town you’d stumbled across 3 years ago.

You’d only moved here from New York when your breakup with Jason had reached boiling point, with him knowing all of your friends, rumours about you soon spread and it became unbearable to stay. He had started stalking you and had your friends keep tabs on everywhere you went, eventually you even opted to forego all social interactions. You had welcomed the fresh start, and once you’d blocked Jason’s number you could finally begin to move on.

One time he had written you a letter after having found your new address on a piece of mail with your forwarding address attached, which somehow made its way to your old apartment instead. The letter was full of threats, demeaning words and also promises of a better life if you returned, but you dismissed these as empty threats, threw away the letter and got on with creating your new life.

You were just about to close up shop early, when the ding of the bell above the door sounded. You turned around to see a tall, dark haired man with a buzzcut, white t-shirt and a brown jacket walk in. You noticed a small tattoo on his neck.

“Hi, are you after anything specific?” You asked with a small smile, trying not to seem overbearing.

The man smiled politely, but didn’t maintain eye contact for long, and went back to scanning the low shelves near the front door.

“No I’m fine, thank you though.” He said. His voice was deep and gruff, and his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

“Okay, just let me know if you need anything.” You smiled back, and turned back to the counter where you were organising receipt rolls and pens. You hated it when you went into a store to browse and the staff lingered, so had never done this to your own customers, giving them space.

After a minute or two, the man cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Actually, sorry, yeah. I’m after a book on PTSD, like how to manage it and stuff, do you have anything like that?” He said, rubbing the back of his head as he looked up at you sheepishly.

Oh, perhaps he was one of those army guys, who had seen some horrible things in the war.

“Uhh, yeah we do actually. It’s just overrr…. Here!” You said walking over to a shelf on the left of the store, under the “self help” section.

“We only have the one though, I’m not sure if it will be much help?” You said handing him the book.

“Thanks.” He said, taking the book and scanning over the cover, “It’s not for me.” He added, looking awkward.

“Say no more.” You smiled and laughed a little to ease the tension he may have been feeling.

You walked back to the counter and waited for the man to follow. He took out a twenty dollar bill and waited for you to ring up how much the book would cost. You thought for a moment, and decided to do your one good thing that day.

“Uhh…. It looks like we don’t actually have the book in our system, and no price is showing up, I guess it’s free.” You lied, laughing lightly and pushing his twenty back to him.

The man thought for moment and looked you in the eye. “You really don’t need to do that, I promise the book’s not for me anyway. It’s for my brother.” He shrugged.

“Well then I guess your brother gets a free book.” You smiled, putting the book in a paper bag and handing it to the man.

He smiled, a genuine and slightly crooked smile, and thanked you. He took one last look at you and went to head out the door.

“Wait!” You called suddenly, your bravery getting the best of you. He turned around.

“I haven’t seen you around before, are you local?” You asked.

“Yeah… I’ve been away for a while. My names Tommy.” He smiled.

“Nice to meet you Tommy. I’m (Y/N), hope to see you around.” You smiled back, and turned to go back to your tidying.

Tommy left feeling happier than he had in a while. He hadn’t had a friendly encounter with the towns folk since coming out of prison, or with his family since Sam came back from Afghanistan and the news had come out that he and Grace had kissed.

Tommy didn’t have feelings for Grace, not real feelings anyway, and he realised this once Sam returned. Tommy chalked it up to the grief they both felt having thought he had died, as well as the happiness he felt when he was in a family environment. No, the only feelings Tommy had for Grace now were guilt, and he struggled to be around them.

He had decided to buy a book on how to manage PTSD so he knew how to handle Sam, who was due to come home from his stay at the psychiatric unit. Tommy felt sad that things had become so hard for Sam, and he was determined to not make things any worse.

Your act of kindness towards Tommy had turned a bad day around, and as he drove home that evening, he couldn’t help but think about the warm smile and beautiful eyes that he found at the little bookstore on the corner.

You had just closed up the shop, and began to walk home as the light dipped behind the horizon, casting the sky in a blue haze, the street lights had since flickered on and you watched your shadow grow large and then small as you passed under each one. Jet’s dog walker would have left around 3 hours ago and you bet he’d be itching for another walk, so hurried as fast as you could.

About a block from home you stopped suddenly as your breath caught in your throat and your heart sped up. You could hear footsteps close behind, and the they were closing the gap between you quickly. You spun around prepared to come face to face with an attacker or someone hoping to snatch your measly purse, but were met with an empty sidewalk dimly lit by street lamps and lined with trees.

You strained your eyes for any movement, but eventually convinced yourself you were being paranoid, and speed walked the rest of the way home, only letting your breath go once you were safely inside and you had locked your door.

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-Chapter Two Here-

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal gif #quentin beck #character: elwood dalton #david loki #gyllenhaaledit #jake gyllenhaal gifs #jacob gyllenhaal #jacob benjamin gyllenhaal #donnie darko #jack twist #pilot kelson #jake gyllenhaal x reader #Tommy Cahill x reader

[fennybunny]

HIRO HAMADA X READER

Ok so this is my first ever time using this social and I'm kinda nervous. Anyways I wrote a fanfic and I'd like to share it with the few people who are still obsessed with BigHero6. It's a older Hiro Hamada x genious reader. I post the chapters on wattpad but if I see this getting some attention I'll also start posting the chapters when they're ready here. You can find me as @Red_Madhattress there.

I hope you enjoy

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𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗴

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The life at the Lucky Cafe seemed more and more lively, customers flocked every day to taste the sweet creations of Aunt Tess, and as more time passed the more you could realize that two hands were not enough to do everything. So when Tadashi was busy with his lectures and university work, Hiro was there to give her a hand. Morning rush, break, lunch rush, break, afternoon rush, and finally the Cafe doors closed behind Hiro's shoulders with a tired and noisy huff from the boy’s lips. The boy turned the sign to the other side and could finally see the words 'we are open'  with his own eyes, a good thing because it meant that the only thing the people outside the shop could see was the glorious words 'we are closed', but it also reminded him that all this would start again tomorrow. Aunt Tess walked closer and stopped behind him, putting a hand on her nephew’s shoulder

"The day is finally over, huh? Go get some rest, I’ll finish up on my own. And please tell your brother we’re eating early tonight."

Hiro took off his apron soiled with powdered sugar and a few drops of coffee, thus revealing to his unpleasant surprise that a drop had also ended up on his t-shirt staining it.

"Oh come on, It was clean this morning"

He grunted again, clutching the apron in his fist and starting to make his way upstairs. He made a short stop at the laundry room, saw the pile of clothes to wash, and ignored them by putting the object in his hand on the already existing pile and then headed towards his room. The door of the shared bedroom creaked and he pushed it close with the palm of his hand.

"Tadashi"

No answer. The separator they had put to divide the spaces and as an attempt to have more privacy was open. Hiro pushed it slightly to the side looking out on the desk where his older brother was sleeping blissfully, notes over notes spread across it and under his head, headphones in his ears and a pen still standing straight between his fingers as a drop of saliva began to form on the corner of his mouth.

Hiro sighed as he slowly approached him, grabbing the glass of water on the desk and dropping a few drops behind the brother's neck. The cold water managed to wake him up.

"Wha-who? Hiro?"

With a quick move, he first checked the watch on his wrist and then took off his headphones.

"I must have fallen asleep"

"You think so?"

Tadashi made a face that immediately turned into a grin, grabbed his brother, forced Hiro's head under his arm, and then began to mess up his brother’s black hair.

"What a good boy you are Hiro, always caring so much about your big brother"

He said it with a playful tone as the boy’s hair began to look more and more like a bird’s nest. Tadashi immediately got punched in the chest, not strongly enough to hurt him but strongly enough to make him understand that his brother had not appreciated the gesture. And just like that the stupid game ended.

"Next time I won’t even bother waking you up"

The discussion ended and the 17-year-old headed for his side of the room, closing the divider again and taking a seat on the desk, Googling the city’s upcoming botfight rallies. Two weeks had passed since his last bot fight, and for him, it was time to prove his strength in the ring again. The King. That's what people called him, everyone knew his name ever since he was 13 when ,for the first time, he had stepped into the glorious nightlife of San Fransokyo. The first reaction of the crowd was that of a little boy who got lost on the way home but it took just one round to prove his skills. Yama was the name of the previous owner of the bot fight king title. It took him one night to reduce Yama to a cluster of circuits and cables and so the title passed to Hiro’s magnetic robot: Megabot. His name was now famous throughout the whole city so much so that the bot fights he participated in over time became a painful excuse for the bravest to gather and try to beat Megabot. Each time they ended up crushed and so also the dream of becoming the new number one was broken under Hiro's victorious grin. By now the only thing he needed was to find a ride for the night since Tess knew his 'addiction' to botfights and had forbidden him not only to get himself a driving license but also to learn how to ride his brother’s scooter. He needed a solution.

"Tadashi?"

"What do you want Hiro? I have to catch up on the work I lost while I was sleeping"

"You gotta give me a ride tonight."

"Ah-ah not gonna happen, you remember how angry Aunt Tess got after the last bot fight."

"You don’t have to tell her we’re going out, we can sneak out."

"It’s still a no."

Once again, silence. Hiro rolled his eyes and got up walking towards the door of the room and making sure his brother could hear every step he Took.

"Okay then I'm going to tell our sweet auntie that you spent the afternoon sleeping instead of studying and that you could have helped us out at the Cafe."

He was immediately stopped and pulled away from the door by the hood of the sweatshirt.

"It’s okay gnome but know that at the first opportunity, I’ll make you pay for a low blow like this"

Victory.

That same evening at 9:37 pm they secretly went out, passing behind the sofa in the living room where Aunt Cass had fallen asleep at least 30 minutes before watching her favorite soap opera while Mochi slept on her legs. There could be heard a slight click of the door closing and shortly after, Hiro and Tadashi were already hurtling toward the first botfight of the evening in one of the secondary districts of the city. Obviously, as usual, the plan was to see what the situation was, if it was quiet he would collect some money and then move to the nearest bot fight and repeat the process. It wasn’t even hard for him to keep his title so he was just doing it for the money. The university where Tadashi went was the best in its field of the whole city and this also meant that the tuition was quite heavy on Cass's shoulders and on the Lucky Cafe, not to mention the fact that she had to feed herself, a rather fat cat, and two teenagers. It's not like the business was going badly but it’s always better to have some money aside in case of problems and that’s what Hiro did, every week he deposited 80% of what he earned in botfights into his aunt’s bank account and left a small supply for himself for personal expenses and to make repairs on Megabot. Spare parts and things like that.

The evening went as planned, fortunately for Hiro and the other people present at the rally, no patrol had yet passed to check the area so the two brothers decided to take a break and eat a burger at the nearby fast food restaurant.

"Hiro, I was thinking maybe it wouldn’t hurt for you to expand your horizons."

Hiro sighed, took a sip of his drink, and placed the sandwich on the plate.

"Come on, we talked about this. Graduating early was a miracle for me, now I have more time to help Cass and do what I want..."

He took a French fry covered in ketchup and pointed it in his brother's face, then backed away and did his usual arrogant smile.

"Which in this case is having fun with bot fights"

He popped the fry in his mouth. Tadashi shook his head took a bite of his sandwich and kept talking while he was chewing, causing a half disgusted expression from his little brother.

"I know, but it makes me feel like you're wasting your talent and that brilliant head of yours. Other people in your place would have done something else, I would have done something else-"

A woman approached the table outside the diner where they were eating and laid a piece of paper with an address on their table. Hiro was confused and, swallowing the bite, made a weird expression directed to his brother as if to tell him to do something, a sign that Tadashi immediately caught.

"Hello? Uhm do we know you?"

The woman had long brown hair with blue on the ends, half her head was shaved, and she had dark skin and black lipstick. From her clothes, she looked like she’d just come out of the movie 'X Men', a leather jacket that went down to her knees, she wore blue elephant-flared jeans and black boots. The paper she had placed on the table contained a map and a place that seemed to be somewhere on the border of the city circled with a red pen.

"No, but I know that what I’m about to offer you is an opportunity for this little guy to turn his night around".

Hiro turned to look at her with an expression that was a mixture of surprise and anger while Tadashi tried to contain his laughter, failing miserably.

"I'm not a little guy"

"You’re a little guy to me. Anyway, as I think you already know this is the map of San Fransokyo, follow the directions and you will arrive at a palace, If you go up to the top floor, you'll find the R2W club, and since I know that this little guy is a fan of robotics, I’m sure you will have no problem finding it and coming. But in case one of you has trouble reading the map, even if it seems impossible to me, this is my number."

The woman left another piece of paper on the table. The letters read 'Bio Chem Innovations, doc Dean' and under it it had a number. Tadashi seemed to want to say something but he seemed to have been stunned by the woman’s talk so his brother took over the conversation.

"R2W? What is that?"

"Simply the most exclusive bot fight club in the city"

"How come I’ve never heard of it?"

"So...first of all, we’re not as stupid as the other rallies you participate in, we don't post online the locations where we conduct our illegal bot fights. And second, it’s a limited-number club where only the best botfighters get in, so having someone like you would be more than interesting for us. Anyway I have to go"

She quickly shook hands with both of them.

"If you are interested we open tomorrow at 10:30 p.m. sharp"

After that, she turned around and disappeared into the crowd that was still watching the ongoing bot fights a little further from the table. There was an awkward silence again, and then...

"I wanna go"

The brother choked on the food he had just started eating again, slammed a fist on the table, making it shake for a short moment, and pressed the other hand on his chest trying to swallow the bite without killing himself.

"Hell no you're not!"

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#female reader #hiro hamada x reader #big hero 6 #bh6 #bh6 hiro #big hero six #fanfiction #fanfic #bh6 the series

[mareposie]

Anya has chickenpox and Loid learns that Yor never got it so it can be dangerous for her since she is an adult. Yor has to leave the house for some days and Melinda is actually the one who welcomes her in one of her luxury condos in Berlint (since Yuri was not in the country (officially) and she didn’t want to bother her coworkers). Melinda actually agrees to temporally move in with Yor so she doesn’t feel isolated and depressed.

At first, Yor is super worried for Anya, calls every hour and is really awkward but then she slowly gets a taste the free life of a rich young woman. She gets to cook pasta and to drink cocktails with Melinda almost every night and she also enjoys afternoon tea with the other elite ladies, they do some gardening, volley ball, home decor, etiquette classes, shopping with black cards and she even attends her first charity gala with an expensive gown and a tiara. In a week, Yor became a fellow patriotic lady and she even if she is still slow and dense, she manages to get the inside jokes.

Then one night the phone rings in Melinda’s condo and Melinda picks up the phone and gives it to Yor. Yor nods on the phone and she is like : :-)

Melinda : What’s going on ?

Yor : It’s Loid, he said that Anya got better and I can come back now

Melinda : That’s amazing, let’s pack your things !

Yor : But Melinda...we were supposed to go on a winecation tomorrow and to get drunk...I never knew life could be like that, I don’t want to return now ! I want to stay with my friends a little bit more !

Then Melinda sighs because she’s glad that she had managed to distract Yor from how sick Anya was. Then Melinda reveals that this kind of life is really empty because at the end of the day, all her friends return to their family but she stays all alone in a huge cold house. That she would kill to have a warm home to return to, with a caring husband and a lovely daughter...a healthy family. She is thankful that she had Yor as family, and a warm home for an entire week and now it’s time to give her back to her real family.

Yor realized that Melinda is really sad and she tells that the Forger door will always be open for her, if she needs a family and to feel some warmth. Like literally because everyone keeps barging in so they don’t even care anymore, they will always welcome their friends as their family.

Then Yor comes back home and gets a hug from Anya and Bond and she realizes how lucky she is and how lonely she used to be in the past before meeting Loid and Anya.

Of course Loid faints when he hears that she went to the gala of the year and how she has connections to the whole upper class now but that’s another story.

#spy x family #Yor Forger #Yor loves her wine #melinda desmond #loid forger #spy x family headcanons #anya forger #twiyor

[elisysd]

Gentle – Lexi Jayde

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

I can't take another break, take another burn I don't want another lesson learned Could you please be gentle with me?

Monza, during a Grand Prix, was an interesting experience. The number of Ferrari fans was literally in every corner of the city. Shops were also decked out in the team's signature red and yellow colours. It was a real popular fervour that amazed Lyanna, as much as it made her a little anxious.

She had arrived on Friday morning at a hotel not far from the circuit but far enough away not to risk running into Charles or any of his friends. That would jeopardise the whole plan she had prepared. She was due to meet up with Kika early in the afternoon, who was to give her her paddock pass, and then she planned to take a stroll around the streets of Monza to try and get a feel of the atmosphere.

But apart from that, she was going to lay low and remain incognito. She felt like a lion in a cage, pacing up and down her room. She was dreading Sunday as much as she was looking forward to it. Yes, to sort out her relationship with Charles, but she was also looking forward to experiencing the Grand Prix atmosphere from the inside. She wanted to understand how it all worked, between the mechanics, the engineers, the strategy managers and the drivers of course.

At last Saturday arrived. Kika had arranged to meet her not far from the entrance to the paddock. Not the main one, but a more secluded one, used by the mechanics. The Portuguese woman, dressed in a black dress and her eyes hidden by Prada sunglasses, found her easily enough. At the same time, Lyanna must have seemed like a fish out of water, standing in the middle of the road not really knowing what to do or where to go.

“I hope you know what you are doing.” Stated Kika after greeting her.

“Well, not really to be honest. I just want to see him and I hope for the best.”

“So no strategy?”

“No, just honesty. I didn’t prepare a speech or anything. I’m just gonna pour my heart out and hoping that he is willing to listen to me.”

“You guys really need to figure out where you stand because he has been a mess. Really. He just buried himself into work and shut everyone out. And I don’t know if you’ve seen the mess that Zandvoort was but he would really have needed someone by his side. He wanted you to be there.”

‘I watched the race, I saw what happened…” confessed Lyanna.  

“Can I be honest with you Lyanna?”

“Please.”

“Charles is a good guy. And he cares a lot about you, everyone can see it. But I don’t know how long he can endure what you put him through. It’s been what, the second? Third times you pushed him away without giving him as much as an explanation? It’s not fair. I’m not blaming you because frankly I don’t know what happened in your life for you to act like this, you must have your reasons and I won’t judge you for that. I’m just saying, please be careful. Because he will give you everything but it’s in between your hands. You have to prove him that you are reliable.”

“I made up my mind. I’m ready to go all in with him.”

“Relationship and all?”

“I didn’t think that far ahead…”

Kika rolled her eyes.

“Anyway, here’s your pass. Let me explain what is going to happen tomorrow. I will come to your hotel in the late morning so we can arrive at Alpine’s garage together. It will bring less attention than if we both arrive with Pierre. You are going to watch the race with me from the hospitality. That’s the part of the plan Pierre is sure about.  Then, he is supposed to intercept Joris to tell him you are here to see Charles and from there, if everything goes well, Joris will come to take you to Ferrari’s garage so you can see him.”

“Fingers crossed that it would go well then…”

But nothing went well. Everything had started so well. As expected, Kika had picked Lyanna up from her hotel and they had both arrived at the paddock without attracting any attention. Then the two young women went to the Alpine garage where they found Pierre. Lyanna also met Esteban, who welcomed her with open arms.

“I’m so happy to meet you! I watched all your movies, I’m a big fan.”

“Well thanks, it makes me happy to hear but I’m not here as Lyanna Michel today, I’m just here as Lyanna.”

The last thing she needed and wanted today was to talk about her work.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Uh sure, yeah.” She hesitated.

“We’re both French. So surely, even if you live and work surrounded by the English language, there are some words you still have a hard time to pronounce. So my question is, how do you pronounce squirrel?”

She could not help but laugh. A big and loud laugh.

“You know, I think it’s actually the toughest one to pronounce! Even I can’t get it right.”

They stayed that way, talking and laughing together about the absurdity of the English language. Esteban had a way to make people comfortable and it was exactly what she needed. Soon enough they were both joined by Pierre who came to them with  a box between his hands.

“Lyanna! Can you come here for a second? I have something for you.”

“Oh please, don’t tell me it is what I think it is…” sighed Kika.

With a proud grin on his face, Pierre motioned to Lyanna to get closer.

“If, hopefully, everything goes well today, you are going to walk out of the track as Charles’ new girlfriend. So, before you had to go over to the dark side and betray your nation, your French DNA, to become a new supporter of the Italian team, I wanted to see you wearing the Alpine colours. At least I'd have that to annoy Charles. His girlfriend was an Alpine fan before she became a Ferrari one. It'll annoy him. And seeing him annoyed makes me happy. So if you can wear this tee-shirt and this hat, it would be perfect.”

“You won’t let me get out of here if I refuse, right?”

“You, at least, owe me that Lyanna.”

“Fine…”

She took the box out of Pierre and went at the back of the garage to change. Once she was back, Pierre, was waiting with his phone ready to take pictures.

“Di you really had to give me a shirt with your name and your driver’s number on it? Don’t you think it’s a bit too much?”

“Yes, it is. But that’s what makes it fun.” Added Pierre with a shrug.

Unexpectedly, this little show helped Lyanna to relax. She had fun striking ridiculous poses, soon joined by Kika. And then it was soon time for Pierre to concentrate and get back to the grid. But first, he made a quick diversions to the Ferrari garage in the hope of running into Joris there to warn him of the situation.

It was the look on Kika's face when she checked her phone a few minutes before the race that made Lyanna realise something was wrong.

“Pierre couldn’t find Joris. I’m sorry Lyanna. But don’t worry, we will find a way.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine. I’ll just try to get through Ferrari’s security on my own. How hard can it be?”

Kika looked at her, doubtful.

“Let’s focus on the race, okay? They are going to start soon.”

Charles was starting P3, right behind Max Verstappen and Checo Perez’s Red Bulls. As for Pierre, he was starting P7 after a strong qualification session.

The start was strong and unexpected. Charles got off to a very good start and managed to keep up with the two red bulls. But the Ferrari still didn't have enough pace to be able to hold on to the cars in front. The strategy was therefore quickly to try and defend P3 against Fernando Alonso, who himself was up against a Lewis Hamilton in top form. And then, a few laps later, an unexpected event turned the race upside down and turned all the tables. Trying to overtake Max Verstappen in a desperate bid to save his championship, Checo Perez collided with his leader's red bull, sending them both off the track, making Charles the temporary race leader.

Everything now depended on how Ferrari would manage the rest of the race. But for once, luck seemed to be on the Tifosi's side. A well-executed Safety Car strategy, perfectly executed pit stops and a good understanding of the tyres enabled Charles to enter the final ten laps of the race 5 seconds ahead of Lewis Hamilton.

Lyanna was biting her nails in agony. She trusted Charles, he could do it. He was going to do it. Taking advantage of the attention glued to the screens, she slipped away with a little wave to Kika and headed for the Ferrari garages.

“Where do you think you are going miss?” a member of the staff interrupted her as she was trying to find a way to go inside or at least to find someone she knew who could help her.

“I’m here for Charles…” she tried to explain but was interrupted by the security guard.

“Yeah sure. Do you know how many girls tried this before? Go away before I make you leave.”

“But you don’t understand…”

“Lyanna?” a well-known voice was heard.

“Carla! Thank God.”

Arthur’s girlfriend made her way to her and explained to the man that she was a family friend.

“What are you doing here?” asked Carla.

“I needed to see Charles. I have something to tell him.”

“Oh, does that mean that next family dinner at the Leclerc’s, you will be there?”

“Let’s not go that far ahead, okay?”

“Honestly, I don’t think you need to worry. But come on, we are going to miss Charles crossing the finish line.”

And what a finish it was. The gap had closed to 3.5 seconds and Lewis had quickly caught up with Charles, but the Monegasque and Ferrari had managed the race perfectly and it was to the jubilant cheers of the Tifosi and the Ferrari garage that Charles finished the race. After a long and complicated season, he had arrived at the top of the podium. Lyanna was beyond proud and she couldn't stop a few tears from gathering at the corners of her eyes. Carla jumped with joy, soon to be joined by Arthur, who hugged her. Seeing all those happy people left Lyanna speechless. She let Charles' friends and family approach the barriers to welcome the pilot, preferring to leave the moment to themselves. Her turn would come soon enough. Now was not the time.

She soon found herself in an almost empty garage, with the exception of Fred Vasseur, who had preferred to remain on his own, leaving the team to enjoy themselves. He would congratulate Charles in due time.

“I’ve never seen you here before.” He said getting close to her.

“I’m here for Charles. I’m Lyanna.”

“Oh. Lyanna.” He repeated with a knowing smile. “If you want a chance to intercept him before the podium and all the protocol, you should go up the paddock.”

She thanked him with a smile and did exactly what he told her. The paddock was packed with people. Everyone was trying to catch a glimpse of Charles. He was caught between the cheers of the fans, the mechanics, the journalists desperate for his first words, the flashes of the photographers, the teams in charge of protocol and the podium who were trying to guide him as best they could through this sea of people.

Attempting to slip along at a quick pace, Lyanna looked around for him before finally catching sight of him. With a dazzling smile on his face and his jumpsuit half open, he was standing 4 metres from her. Pierre, not far from him, had just caught sight of the actress and whispered a few words in his friend's ear. Charles turned his head towards her stunned.

Lyanna took the opportunity to run towards him as Pierre asked the people to let her pass. Charles also began to hurry and, as if in a slow-motion film, he found her halfway along and took her in his arms, twirling her around. Pierre, accompanied by Joris who was standing not far from the scene and a few fans who had realised that an important moment for Charles was about to unfold, proceeded to block the two young people from the view of the journalists to give them some privacy.

Lyanna buried her face in Charles's neck as he moved away from the central walkway to a more secluded corner. Finally, she turned away from him and stared into Charles's eyes.

“Congrats, champ.” She whispered.

“It’s you. It’s all you. My little good-luck charm.”

He rested his forehead against hers.

“Lya?”

“Yes?”

“It’s my turn to take you by surprise.”

“What do you mean.”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

========

author's note: Last chapter of the week. I'm going back to work next week so I'll have less time to write. But hallelujah!!!!! THEY KISSED. I loved writing this chapter. A little bit sad because we've reached an important part of the story. But don't worry, it's not the end of Lyanna and Charles story. Don't forget to comment, I'm always curious to hear your thoughts and hopes for the rest of the story.

Taglist: @zendayabelova @purplephantomwolf @ru-kru @dakotali @blueflorals @aundercover @ruleroftheuniverse

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #fiction #writing #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x female reader #cl16 #cl16 x reader

[morvantmortuary]

sugar high -

(Hector Morvant-Casares x Reader)

summary: Hex invites you along for an afternoon errand.

warnings: brief descriptions of a depressive episode. a shit-ton of fluff. like, syrupy, frothy fluff. I’m not kidding. you watch your teeth.

general: for Spooky Season in the Barrens: apple cider, candy corn, skulls. 🍎💀

I’ll be honest, Hex is not usually my go-to fluff guy, but goddamn if he doesn’t have a whole mushy side when you let him talk a bit.

Any corrections on his Spanish are appreciated - I double-checked everything and tried to stick with Mexican localization, but I’m still learning. :’D

also, I know so much more about the making of calaveras than I did last week. hot damn, those can get involved. any suggestions or needed corrections there (or with any discussion of the holiday) are also appreciated.

reader is as always genderqueer/non-binary (but I stuck to feminine endings for Spanish bc those are what I’m more familiar with, sorry :’D), and I write them as bisexual but that’s not explicitly mentioned here. any tweaks to language so people can have a more seamless experience are always helpful.

okay, hope this helps brighten your day a bit. 🖤

You didn’t even have to look up from your book to know who was calling you, and wasn’t just texting like a normal person.

Without looking up from your page, you reached over and answered with the tap of one finger, then put him on speaker with another. “Who dares?”

“Hey, so, I’m madly in love with you. Do you wanna go out with me? Like, right now, or I’ll die of loneliness?” Hex said it like he was asking about the weather. The mustang’s motor purred in the background, and the faint thud of some dance remix on low drifted through your phone’s speaker like a tinny distant dream.

You smiled, closing your book and setting it beside you on your mattress. “Hmm. That depends.”

“Depends? Ouch. After my very sincere confession?” Hector laughed, making you smile wider. “Depends on what?”

“We-ell.” You stretched the syllable out as you stretched in turn, then collapsed back onto your pillows. “I’m very busy having a lazy afternoon, you see.”

Pale autumn sunlight danced in dappled patterns on your ceiling. You’d successfully managed to change from your pajamas to your comfiest sweats after taking a luxuriously long bath. This was only topped by the fact that you were currently cozy in a bed with a book that had been on your TBR for months, that you’d been swearing you’d get around to, for real this time.

“Is that so?” You heard the click of his turn signal, apparently not given pause by your demurring.

“Yes, and I’ve had it scheduled all week. I simply can’t cancel on myself again,” you explained, waving a hand lazily. “…Unless.”

“Te escucho,” Hex prompted. You heard him tapping on his steering wheel with his index fingers, restless. “Come on, lay it on me.”

“I could only be convinced to cancel on me if you had some really, truly spectacular, showstopping way to sweep me off my feet, that I just had to drop everything for right now.” You fought to keep your tone as serious as possible. “So this better be a really fabulous proposal, whatever comes next. Lots of pressure. Definitely overthink it.”

Hex sucked his teeth audibly, pretending to think. “Damn, I was just gonna ask if you wanted to go grocery shopping with me.”

“I’ll get my jacket.” You slid off your bed, stretching again from where you’d be laying there in a marathon session with your novel. “How close are you?”

He laughed again, low in his throat with that little bit of rasp that felt like his fingers in your hair. A second later, you heard the short beep of a car horn in your driveway.

“Oh, shit. Be right there!” You grabbed your phone off your bed and hustled now for the door to your room.

“Relax, baby, no hurry,” Hector said, his voice echoing slightly in your hallway as you moved. “Maxi just asked me to pick some stuff up for this pre-need thing he’s throwing tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” You slid into your shoes where they were piled by your entry way, and then grabbed your bag for whatever wouldn’t fit in your pockets - charger, headphones, anything you’d want if you headed to his place after. “…What’s a pre-need again?” You topped all this off by pulling on one of Hex’s hoodies that you’d stolen from him ages ago, fitting you comfortably as it did every time. You’d have to sneak it back into his laundry soon, you knew — it was beginning to smell more like you than him.

“Ugh, don’t worry about it.” Hector sighed so loud you could almost hear his eyes rolling. “Basically lots of little old and anxious people start getting antsy and thinking about death in October, because skeletons, so he offers this afternoon thing where he teaches them how to set up all their funeral stuff in advance. Es hella aburrido, which is why he has to offer the free food.”

“Ah. That all makes sense.” You stepped outside and made a point to lock your door. Granted, Hex was the only person you could conceive of who had ever broken in - or who would ever want to break in - but still. Greymoon was a weird town.

One never knew what, exactly, was going to turn up as dusk claimed a larger and larger share of the hours.

You hung up the call as you pulled the passenger door open, leaning over to kiss him before you closed it. “So what all do you serve at a funeral tutorial-thing?”

“Oh, you know— hey,” Hector paused, eyeing your clothes critically before looking at you with theatrical levels of suspicion. “You told me you hadn’t seen that one.”

“What, this?” You feigned innocence, looking down at his hoodie. “Oh, I thought you meant your… other one.” The man had like ten, this wasn’t impossible. “Do you want it back?” You widened your eyes and pouted just the tiniest bit, certain he wouldn’t say no, but wanting to lay it on thick.

“Let me see.” He leaned over abruptly to take an exaggerated sniff of the hood and your hair, making you giggle and try to lean away. “Nah,” he concluded, sitting back up. “That needs another day.”

You were still giggling, adjusting the hood around your shoulders. “Another day for what?”

Hector took the car out of park, looking over his shoulder to pull out of your driveway even though he could do it in his sleep. “It needs time to get that good You smell in there. What is that, anyway? Perfume? Shampoo? Essence of angel?”

“Shut up, corn lord.” You swatted his shoulder, making him smile. “I only wear it as long as it smells like you, anyway.”

“Really? Aw. Sorry about that.” Hector grinned when you laughed again. One of his hands fell to its usual place on your knee as he pulled out onto the main road. “The hell do I smell like, anyway? Film developer and sadness?”

“No.” You intertwined your fingers together and squeezed his hand. “You don’t smell like sadness, Señor Artiste.”

Between Hex’s constant connection to the world after this one, his resulting insomnia, and his… already artistic temperament, you knew he occasionally had to fend off the depression that seemed to run in the Morvant line. Whereas Maxi diverted his restless version into constantly fixing and cleaning, and Rora’s manifested in squalls of anger and verbal venom, Hex’s ennui would lay him out flat for days — occasionally, weeks. You’d spent time before helping him excavate his bed from under piles of unfolded laundry that he’d just been sleeping around, and braiding his hair when he couldn’t find the energy to wash it. You knew he worried about letting you see him like this, and he’d confessed to you once during one of the worse episodes that he was scared it was too much to expect you to handle.

But just like the ghosts he channeled, it would eventually release him from its grip, and he would make a point to be just as sweet to you when it was your turn to deal with your inner demons.

“News to me.” Hector’s smile was a little more subdued now. “So, what, just film developer? Dusty house?”

“No, you smell like… hold on.” You held your free hand to your face, inhaling deeply from your sweater-paw. “You smell like… cinnamon. And coffee with chicory — like there’s any other kind down here.” You took another sniff, taking your time. “And something, like, incense-y? Is that from the viewing room?”

“Oh, nah.” Hex was quiet, and it stretched as you found yourself weirdly waiting for an answer.

He kept his eyes pointedly on the road and cleared his throat. “I keep some of the stuff my ma used to use in my closet. For emergencies.”

You blinked. Hector didn’t bring up that side of the family a lot. He didn’t really bring up either side, if he could avoid it, but definitely not hers. “Your mom burn incense a lot?”

“Yeah. Just for, like… ritual stuff. She was into that sort of thing.” He paused, and when the two of you were stopped at a red light, he lifted his steering hand to smell the hoodie he was currently wearing. “Weird. I’d totally forgotten it was up there.” He held it out and scrutinized it, as if to search for visible traces on the fabric. “Guess I’m just noseblind to it now.” He shrugged, but almost a little too hard. Like he was trying to shake off the idea.

You hesitated as the car pulled forward again, wanting to respect a sensitive topic, but still curious. “…What qualifies as an ‘incense emergency’?”

“Oh, the usual. One of the ghosts in the House gets too full of itself after a seance. Rora fucks up another taxidermy resurrection. Maxi gets a body for restoration that’s been in a car for a week.” He winked at you when you shuddered at the thought. “Any of the very sexy circumstances where you’d rather smell like something burning, or burning something beats something else in supernatural Rock-Paper-Scissors.”

“Yikes. I’ll keep that in mind.” There were a million more questions about it on the tip of your tongue, but you kept them in check as he parked in front of the smaller grocery store in town — the one that had the more unusual finds, depending on the season.

You were always slightly amazed at how he managed to pull the mustang in between some of the ridiculously large trucks that populated most Greymoon parking lots. Somehow, he always found a convenient spot for his little black car. Like magic, if magic could be used for something so mundane.

As the two of you got out, there was still the slightest shadow on his face as he closed his door. “So does that not, like, bother you?” When you gave him a confused look as you closed your own, he nodded to the hoodie. “I’ve had it in my closet forever; it must smell pretty strong.”

“Oh! No.” You circled around and wound your fingers through his again as he locked the car. “I like it, actually.” As the two of you headed inside, you found yourself swinging your hands together like a little kid; you were determined to lighten the mood back up to what it had been. “It’s layered with so much other stuff — your cafe con leche, your detergent, your developer. Your beard oil,” you added, which made him laugh sheepishly as the two of you passed through the automatic doors. “It just smells… I don’t know.” You racked your brain for the word. “Safe? Yeah.” You nodded. “You smell like home to me, you know? Now.” You wanted to keep talking, distract him from that earlier doubt with your current task. You scanned the aisles. “Do you have a list, or—“

You had to fight not to stumble when you were still walking and realized Hector wasn’t.

When you turned to check on him, he was looking at you with such soft, sincere eyes, you almost forgot the two of you had come to a stop next to a cluster of shopping carts.

Quietly, he lifted your intertwined hands to his mouth, kissing the back of yours with a sweetness that seemed all the more so in his silence.

You couldn’t look away, your own tongue once again tied.

It was one of those moments that he made you feel like you were the only two people left in the world.

“…’Shut up, corn lord,’” he echoed at last, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief as he watched you over your own knuckles.

“You shut up, whatever.” You felt your face grow warm in a way that had nothing to do with the indoor heating against the October chill, and stuck your tongue out at him. “You know what I’m saying.”

“I do. But I still like it when you say it.” He winked at you again, and this time there was a trace of the casual cockiness you’d seen when the two of you had first started flirting.

The difference was that now, you knew it was a front. Hex’s confidence was low key when it was genuine — a quiet, unflappable certainty.

He only played slick when how much he actually cared could overwhelm him entirely.

“I really mean it, Hex,” you protested quietly, squeezing his hand. “You have to know that by now.”

“And take that sweet shit for granted? Qué va.” But he still took his time letting go of you.

He sighed as he had over the phone, back to pretending this was a chore. “Alright, let’s get this over with.” He shoved a hand in a pocket of his own hoodie and pulled out his phone. With a couple of taps, he pulled up what looked like a text chain — you could see “pinche maxi” as the contact, followed by three skull emojis. “Got the list.”

You muffled a laugh, not wanting to be caught snooping. “Basket or cart?”

“The hell are you talking about?” Hector jokingly looked at you like you were crazy, before nodding pointedly at something ahead of you. “This is absolutely a cart situation, Bonita, come on. Eyes on the prize.”

Puzzled, you followed his gaze - and grinned, realizing exactly why he’d picked this store.

The Halloween candy display on the far side of the room was massive… but the stock floor was blessedly deserted.

You and Hex whizzed across the vacant produce section — taking turns balancing on the cart and pushing the other person — with only a brief pause to pick up a pre-cut veggie tray.

“There,” he said, before hastily checking off multiple items on the list.

You looked from the list to the tray, positive you’d seen ‘carrots,’ ‘celery,’ ‘cherry tomatoes’ as separate items. “Yeah, that has those.”

“Maxi’s going to complain and say he could’ve done it all himself,” Hector sighed, placing it carefully in the cart. “But he forgets how fucking picky he gets about setting up the extra chairs and the projector in the parlor, and stuff. That, plus having to cut everything just-so and arrange it on his little crudité board? He wouldn’t have time.”

You shrugged. “He can still put it all on the board if he wants to. It’s not like they’re gonna know.”

“That’s the spirit.” Hector snapped and pointed at you. “Primo needs to learn about artfully half-assing stuff. He takes all this pointless detail shit too seriously.” He paused to turn back and pick up a similarly packaged collection of cut fruit. “See? Boom. He didn’t even have those on the list; I’m just that thoughtful.”

“Clearly.” You couldn’t resist a smile. “Okay, so what else?”

“Cheese,” Hector said, as if this were obvious. “You always gotta feed grief with cheese.”

“But I thought this was for planning their own stuff?”

“It is, but have you seen how expensive shit is lately? They’re going to be grieving their wallets.” Hector pulled the cart behind him towards the dairy section with you balanced behind the handle. “You thought groceries were bad, you should see getting buried.”

“But isn’t your cousin on that whole...” You squinted as you tried to remember, gesturing vaguely. “Somthing-something against funeral poverty?”

“Yeah, doesn’t mean Louisiana isn’t still broke as shit. I swear to god, if it wasn’t for the damn House…” Hector sucked his teeth as he trailed off, staring down at two different cheese plates, then squinted at his phone. “Did he say…? Nah.” Seemingly satisfied, he picked up one of each and set them in the cart.

You raised an eyebrow. “Y’all expecting a big crowd?”

“Oh, hell no. We never get more than a few people at these things.” Hector looked at you, pointing to the plate with the slightly nicer variety. “That one’s for family.” He drew a loop in the air with his finger to rope you into the collective - something that still brought a bubbly warmth to your chest, even after you’d been dating this long. “We’re having that after, let the plebians have the cheap cheese.”

You laughed. “So glad I get to be included in the fancy cheese. I’m honored.”

“Only the fanciest of cheeses for you, mi amor.” Hex leaned up, giving you an obnoxiously loud kiss on the cheek. “Come on, we still need the important stuff.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s—” You were interrupted by your own delighted squeak as Hector rocketed with you and the cart towards the Halloween candy.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d giggled this much while just doing errands with someone. It had to mean something that you could leave your ideal day alone to go out and do something you normally dreaded, but still have more fun than your books could have ever promised.

Hector only just pulled you to a stop before any displays suffered an unfortunate collision, and you hopped off the back of the cart, the two of you sizing up the waiting shelves.

“Maxi said I could get Halloween stuff for this, but he said it had to be ‘tasteful’.” Hector gave the word some lazy finger quotes and rolled his eyes again. “Like I didn’t just see him buy one of those twelve foot skeletons. ‘It’s for the garden out back, Hex, it’s not the same’,” he quoted some little tiff they’d clearly had, doing a surprisingly good impression of his cousin’s accent around his own.

“So we’re definitely serving bleeding eye gumballs and gummy brains then?” you joked.

“I wonder if they still sell those plastic molds of hands.” Hector stroked his beard, pretending to ponder. “We could make ice hands with red food dye to put in the lemonade.”

“Crazy tasteful.” You nodded in agreement. “Or feet molds? Do they make those?”

“Ew, don’t be weird.” Hector gave you a look of fake disgust, making you both laugh before you split apart to browse in earnest.

“What about, like, mini chocolate bars? They’ve got like a million kinds.” You scanned the different shelves for the usual variety packs, finding a plethora of different groupings in brightly colored bags.

“You’d think, but no. Chocolate can melt and smear if people forget about it. And someone always forgets about it,” he added from the other side of the aisle, with a touch of that special exhaustion that comes from dealing with strangers. “And nothing that could’ve been remotely near peanut butter or nuts, Maxi said he needs a new epi-pen for the first aid kit.”

“Sure, fair. Can’t have anyone dying at the meeting about how to plan for dying. So that rules out…” You rotated slowly in place, taking stock of your options. “A lot.”

“Hey, that just makes my job easier.” Hector popped around an end cap, holding up two different versions of those holiday-themed marshmallows that had started solely as bunnies. “Skulls or ghosts?”

“For the thing or for us?”

“The thing.”

“Dude,” you laughed. “Like those little old and-slash-or anxious people won’t flip if we give them ghosts or skulls at a funeral planning seminar? You think they have enough whimsy for that?”

“Come on, it’s like, the whole reason we’re there. They gotta lighten up, man.” Hex rolled his eyes again. “Fine, I’ll just put them in the cart for after. Maxi can’t get mad at me if I bring him some, he loves this kinda shit.”

Your eyes fell on shelf of some old-fashioned candies. “Oh my god, I’m an idiot, this is so obvious.”

“How obvious?” Hector asked from the other side of the shelf.

You grabbed a bag of candy corn, inspecting the ingredients. “Nut-free factory! That’s a bonus!”

“Man, those poor factory workers.”

“Ugh, low hanging fruit.” You rolled your eyes, picking up another bag. “Come here.”

“Make me,” Hector teased, suddenly directly behind you.

“Jesus!” You whirled on the spot, startled at having not heard him sneak that close. “Behave.” You whacked his shoulder lightly with one of the bags you were holding.

“Jesus never behaved, that was like his whole deal.” Hector just plucked the bag from your hand, inspecting it before raising an eyebrow. “Candy corn?”

“What little old person doesn’t like candy corn?” You made an incredulous gesture with your free hand. “And like, these candy pumpkins.” You picked up a bag of the traditional pumpkins with the similar texture. “It’s classic for a reason.”

“Yeah, cultural indoctrination.” Hector smiled. “I can’t believe people actually eat this stuff willingly.”

“Oh, come on, it’s nostalgic as hell,” you said, placing the bags in his waiting hands. “It’s like being a little kid in your costume again.”

“Doesn’t mean it actually tastes good.” He nonetheless held still, tilting his head to look at the bag’s contents. “But sure, he can put them out in little decorative bowls or some shit, he loves those.”

You turned to set a last bag in his hands. “You honestly mean to tell me you don’t like candy corn?”

“I mean, I’ll eat it,” Hector said, sounding resigned. “But for the same reason as when I was small: because it’s there, and because it’s what we have, but not because I actually think it’s any good. Not that one,” he said, nodding to the last one you were holding. “We have enough.”

You frowned at the couple of bags in his hands. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay, so at least there won’t be any leftovers.” You shrugged, then beckoned for him to follow you onto the next aisle.

“Are you kidding? The old people aren’t gonna make a dent in this, candy corn multiples the minute someone turns their back on it.” Hector followed you. “Don’t you know Halloween math?” He continued as you burst into laughter. “The same thing would always happen: Tia Mathilde would buy some candy corn, or those tiny pumpkins, and then the bowl in the kitchen would just keep refilling itself all season. It’d never get any emptier, even when I was sure the twins ate so much they were gonna puke.”

“Maybe she just kept buying more bags?” You looked over your shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow. “Like how it works in the real world?”

“Nope, I’d check the trash whenever the bowl was full again!” Hector shook his head. “You watch, we’ll put this out, and then we’ll still be eating it until…”

You paused, turning once again to find Hector stopped behind you. “Babe?”

Hector didn’t answer, squinting at something on a shelf you’d passed.

“Something jumpscare you?” You walked back to peek over his shoulder.

“Yeah, those.” Hector nodded to a plastic box holding three small decorated sugar skulls.

“Oh, hey! I didn’t know they started selling those here.” You paused, surveying the surrounding products. “I didn’t realize they sold imported anything here, to be honest.”

“Those aren’t imported,” Hector said, nodding at the label. Sure enough, it was one of the generic store holiday brands. “They’ve just realized they can sell them and actually make some money. Check the piping around the eyes,” he gestured loosely with the corner of one of the bags. “There are people who work for months to get the decorative ones right, the legit shit. Even the ones you give kids to eat, they take their time with. That looks like someone put the icing on with their eyes closed.”

“Oh.” You leaned forward, inspecting for yourself. The piped icing to decorate the facial features looked very haphazardly applied, some of it smeared against the plastic during transport. “I see what you mean, yeah.” You glanced back at him. “It’s like, the opposite of artful half-assing. Half-ass art-ing.”

“I don’t think that’s even half an ass’s worth,” Hector said, smiling again when he made you laugh. It faded though as he looked back the store brand calaveras. “And they’re charging how much, for that quality? En esta economía? Hell,” he shook his head. “If that’s what people will pay around here for shitty ones, I should throw a bunch together and sell them at the House. Maybe be able to afford that new lens I want.”

“I didn’t know you knew how to make those,” you said, looking between him and the sad little skulls. “I mean, I should’ve guessed, what don’t you know how to make—“

“I don’t,” Hector said, glancing at you. You giggled, and he grinned. “I’m serious. I mean, in theory, sure: it’s like — what’re those fluffy stiff fuckers — meringues, right? Eggs and sugar? Mold it and wait? But my mom always went down early and bought ‘em from this artist lady she liked. For the ofrenda, and an edible one for me so I’d stop trying to lick the decorative ones when her back was turned.”

You paused in your laughter at that image, hesitant. This was the second time his mom had unexpectedly popped up this visit, and the first time hadn’t been… happy, per se. “Did you guys do that every year?”

“When we lived here? Not always,” he shrugged. “Sometimes she couldn’t get down and back in time, so we’d just leave some extra treats out and hope people coming back to visit would understand. Plus, when Tia Mathilde was in a bad mood, she’d get snippy about what room Ma could set stuff up in. Eventually, she just kept a small ofrenda in her room so she didn’t have to deal with Auntie griping about the marigold petals on the carpet.” He sucked the inside of his cheek for a minute, his eyes distant. “…She always remembered when we lived with her folks, though.” He looked away for a moment, pretending to inspect his sneakers. “But by then I usually spent the day elsewhere. It was kinda crowded. Anyway. Come on, beautiful,” he said, looking back up at you abruptly. “We got veggies to put in the fridge, get my cousin off my back.”

“Yeah, definitely.” You were sure that wasn’t what was actually what had him preoccupied, but you didn’t press. You followed him back to the cart, the two of you heading for check out. Though he was friendly as ever with the giggly (clearly somewhat smitten) cashier, you noticed Hex was subdued again, not even making his usual joke of buying out all the day-old donuts with Maxi’s credit card.

By the time the two of you walked out with your bags, you were scrambling slightly, trying to figure out how to bring him back to the present so he wouldn’t linger too long in his reverie.

As the two of you loaded the groceries into the trunk of the mustang, you spotted it: a little tent set up on the far side of the shopping center, with a handmade sign and two elderly people bundled up in lawn chairs. “Hey.”

“Hm?” Hex looked up from closing the trunk when you tugged his sleeve, eyes refocusing like he was emerging from a daze.

You thumbed towards the cider stand. “You want some?” You smiled, hoping you weren’t being obvious. “My treat?”

“Absolutely not.” Hector shoved his hand in his pocket, quickly producing his cousin’s card once again. “We’re still on a very official mortuary errand, let it be Maxi’s treat.”

“Then shouldn’t we bring him some?” Your smile felt more genuine as Hex took your hand, threading your fingers back together as you crossed the cracked little parking lot. “Since he’s being so kind?”

“Eh, it’s a had-to-be there thing, he knows how it goes.” Hector shrugged a shoulder. “Nothing personal, this is purely business.”

“Ahuh.” You muffled a small laugh. “And Rora? None for her?”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’ emphatically. “La Reina made it perfectly clear she didn’t wanna come along. She didn’t help with grocery shopping, so she doesn’t get to reap the rewards of honest work.”

“Damn, you guys are cold-blooded,” you teased, hip-checking him lightly.

“Hey, I warned them fair and square, I didn’t wanna mix business and family.” He spread his free hand in an exaggeratedly helpless gesture. “This is what happens. It’s cut-throat.”

You were still laughing a little when the two of you reached the tent, and you couldn’t miss the rosy-cheeked elderly couple sneaking each other a knowing smile when they greeted you and Hex. A yellow lab sat up from where it had been laying sweetly at their feet, shaking itself and mirroring its people with a panting, tongue-hanging smile of its own.

You watched silently as the cider folks poured you both a full styrofoam cup and chatted with Hex, wondering if they maybe saw themselves in you two. If they had been like you once, feeling like there were only endless unknowns ahead of them, but had finally settled into a gentle present together - from the gentleman’s brief conversation with Hector, one filled with their apple orchard and their dogs, selling homemade cider on crisp afternoons.

As the two of you took your cider (with an extra cinnamon stick for Hex, since he asked the elderly woman with a polite yet roguish smile), you both made sure the lab behind its ears, Hector reminding her in multiple languages that she was a good dog before the two of you took your leave.

That wouldn’t be such a bad forever, you thought to yourself as the older folks waved goodbye. Just the two of you doing something little to make some extra cash, sitting together in the sunlight and chatting about everything and nothing while you waited for people to swing by. Riding home - a shared home, a house for both of you - in his old car, the tired quiet comfortable like a well-loved quilt.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the happy little noise Hector made as you both leaned against the trunk of his car, and you turned to see him enjoying a long sip with both cinnamon sticks still in the cup.

“Good?” you asked, smirking.

“Mmhm.” He pulled the rest away as if to inspect it, licking his lips. “Their spice blend is really killer. Fuck a PSL.”

“That’s why Greymoon never gets a Starbucks, they just know they couldn’t compete.” You took a sip of your own, and unwittingly made a similar noise. The taste that flooded your mouth was immaculately golden, the kind of distilled late afternoon sunshine from the romanticized autumns of years past. “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding.”

“Right?” Hector nodded. “I didn’t think we had any witches around lately, but now I don’t know. Little lady over there might just be hiding a pointy hat at home.”

“Now watch, we’re both going to be magically enthralled to some ancient Apple God when we least expect it.” You took another long sip nonetheless.

“Hey, beats my current thing.” Hector shrugged, downing more of his.

Oh. Right. That.

The small hitch in your soft little idea of forever.

You took another sip, your mind torn in both directions: his mom, which was what you’d been originally trying to distract him from, and now the issue of his necromantic Chain, which you were wondering if you needed distracting from.

“You having flashbacks on me?”

You blinked, looking up to find Hector watching your face. His head was tilted, his small smile looking crooked as he searched your eyes. “Where’d you go, preciosa? You got all thousand-yard stare for a sec.”

“I’m good.” You smiled, trying to prove it. “Just… Fall.” You gestured to the gorgeous day, the drinks in your hands.

“…Ahuh.” Hector said, clearly skeptical. He took one of the cinnamon sticks out of his drink, sticking the end that had been in the cider in his mouth. “Try me anyway?”

You hesitated, not wanting to bog down the moment. “…Why do I get the feeling you did the cinnamon challenge when it was a thing?” you asked instead.

“Nuh-uh,” Hector lied, the way he turned from you slightly to chew on the stick giving him away.

You laughed, immediately picturing the worst. “It didn’t go well, huh?”

“No, because I definitely didn’t do it in a room full of people at a party. What’re you, a cop?” He pointed the stick at you accusingly as you laughed even harder, nearly snorting cider as you went to take another sip. “You got your little FBI man in your phone to go through mine for proof or something? That’s low, that sneaky bastard, he’s supposed to be on my payroll.”

“I love you,” you said through the giggles you were trying to smother.

“Obviously.” Hector threw his hair dramatically over his shoulder, but he couldn’t quite hold the bravado as he looked at you, his gaze softening back into that look from before. “…I love you,” he repeated quietly, his version somehow warmer than the cider in your hand.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, and he slid an arm around your waist as he kissed the top of your skull. You stayed there, enjoying the smell of the fresh cinnamon and the hoodie he was wearing.

“…Earlier,” you spoke just as quietly, afraid to burst this little golden bubble. “When we were inside, you said something about ‘if it weren’t for the damn House.’” You angled your head so you could see his face. “What’d you mean?”

“Oh.” Hector rolled his eyes somewhat, his hand moving your waist to fiddle with a drawstring on your borrowed hoodie. “I just meant we’d be outta here already.”

You blinked, forcing yourself to hold off on the automatic hurt that wanted to leap to the forefront. “‘We?’ Like you and the twins?”

“Eh, if they wanted to, sure,” he said, shrugging. “But we’d find each other again if we needed to, they know that. I meant you and me.” He looked down at you. “I’d take you and we’d move somewhere beautiful, like, tomorrow. Get the fuck outta here, go somewhere with something going on. A real art scene, or at least someplace with actual nightlife, maldita. Or maybe we’d be like those weirdos that live in a van,” he went on. “Move around a bunch of places for a while. Like, we’d live at the beach, until you got tired of the beach, and then we’d try the mountains or something, y’know?”

“Oh, so you’d take me, huh?” Your grin threatened to split your face, it was so hard and so real.

“Obviously,” he said, his bravado back with a wink that made you laugh again. “I’d have to, before you had a chance to think it through.”

“Hey, I might be more game than you think.” You reached up, twirling a lock of his hair around the end of your finger. “What about where you’d want to live, though?”

“That’s the easy part.” He hip-checked you gently, which just pushed you more against his arm as he squeezed you in a hug. “Long as you’re there, I’m good.”

You looked at him for a long moment, pretty sure the warmth in your chest now had nothing to do with the cider or your hoodies in the sunshine. “You wanna head back?” Your hand dropped to tug lightly on his sweatshirt. “So we can put the groceries away before we get completely distracted making out, and so we don’t have an audience?” You glanced out of the corner of your eye at the tent in the distance.

“Yeah, sure babe. One sec.” Hex’s arm supported your back as he dipped you backwards, holding you steady as he made a show of kissing you in front of the grocery store.

It took you two until the lab started barking across the lot to remember you needed to actually get in and start the car.

(perhaps I was the real corn lord all along. :)

if you read this far, I hope you treat yourself to something delicious today 🥰)

#spooky season in the barrens #hector morvant-casares #hex morvant-casares #hector emile morvant-casares #hector and his reader #hector morvant-casares x you #hector’s querida #southern slasher ocs #slasher oc #slasher oc x reader #spiritual medium oc #necromancer oc #genderqueer reader #non-binary reader #plus size reader #bisexual reader #queer reader #morvant mortuary #monsterkisser fics #diego luna fc

[stickyperfectionstranger]

The Sweetest Hunt [Tyler Galpin x fem!reader], chapter 1

Pairing: Tyler Galpin x fem!reader

Fandom: Wednesday (TV 2022)

Rating: Explicit.

Warnings: Cursing. Manipulative Tyler. Suggestive language. Characters aged up. (Eventually) Smut. Loss of virginity. Dubious consent. Fingering. Vaginal sex. Oral sex.

Tyler’s on the run after escaping his imprisonment in Jericho. Assuming a new identity, he gets a new job at a small café near your college campus, where he sees you for the first time. And you – Rowan’s sister, still desperately seeking truth on her brother’s disappearance – could have no possible idea that a murderer was lucking beneath the barista’s curls and kind smile.

Tyler used to think there wasn’t anything that could give him pleasure and satisfaction in the same way that killing did.

He was wrong – his hunt for you would prove most delicious of them all.

---

Chapter: 1/5

It’s a few years after the incident in Jericho. Tyler had managed to slip away from the police within one week of his incarceration; since then, he’d stayed on the run, changing names, jumping from place to place, and working jobs where he could be paid under the table.

Him being the Hyde had never been made public information; as far as the media was concerned, those deaths were still the crafty work of some “bear”. A wonderful result from the town attempting to avoid bad press, which also allowed for him to travel without being widely recognized.

Working at a small family-run café near your college campus was where he first saw you.

The obsession was nearly immediate, though he couldn’t understand why at first.

He was thankful for his inherent ability to maintain a calm demeanor under any sort of pressure or inner urges. Suppressing the urge to grab you by the hair and throw you over a table any time you came in over the next weeks – it was overwhelming, he could feel it physically vibrating through his muscles.

Then, one day when you paid with a credit card, he glanced at your name: Y/N Laslow.

He’d heard the name before… you were the older sister of that telekinetic freak he’d slaughtered back at Nevermore. He could see the similarities… your hair color, the likeness in your eyes, and when he looked into them, he could almost feel it again. He could taste what it had been like to slash into those same eyes when he’d murdered Rowan.

So, he had to have you, in some way or another. He stayed under the radar and started stalking you on his days off. It was so enticing… the idea of being the monster in the closet, the hunter lurking in the shadows, and at the same time, being that quiet kid from the coffee shop that you would never suspect. And on top of that, being the one who killed your brother, the one that you were actively searching for.

He pondered how he’d eventually take you.

Maybe catching you walking to your car from your class that ends around 7pm tomorrow?

Or, he could catch you when you went on one of your afternoon weekend runs; most of the route ran through campus, but there was a half mile or so that hugged some nearby forest, with no roads and no security cameras.

Or maybe at random, in broad daylight, for the thrill…

Then you approached the counter, snapping him out of his daydreaming.

“Hello.” You said cheerily, always so polite. So innocent, and assuming the best of everyone.

“Oh, hey.” Tyler responded, blinking a couple of times to ensure the intentions behind his eyes weren’t as sinister as his thoughts. “What can I get for you?”

“Could I please get a large latte, with a shot of peppermint?”

“Sure thing.” Tyler smiled kindly, even looking away shyly.

“Thank you so much.” You said genuinely, pulling out your cash to pay.

“Actually, don’t worry about it.” Tyler offered, pushing your cash back towards you. “This one’s on the house.”

“Are you sure?” You furrowed your brows, not comfortable with, or used to, handouts.

“Absolutely.” Tyler smirked and started grinding beans for your latte. “This is what, your fourth drink today? Makes me think you just wanted a reason to talk to me.” You blushed when he glanced up at you but responded playfully.

“Or maybe I’m just addicted to caffeine.”

“Either way, I’m not complaining.” He said over his shoulder while continuing to prepare the drink with ease. Admittedly, you admired the way his T-shirt hugged his toned back muscles, the way the tied apron emphasized his impressive physique, and the way his hands expertly worked the equipment. “I’m Jake.” He introduced himself as his current false identity reflected on his uniform’s name tag.

“Good to know. I’m Y/N.” He gazed at you only briefly, but when your eyes met you felt an undeniable jolt of excitement run through you. Like butterflies, but stronger, more… electric. As he turned back to the drink, you took a moment to catch your breath.

Not knowing that he could hear your heart racing, feel your temperature increasing, hear that sharp inhale when your breath hitched that you were trying to hide… he knew what he was doing to you without even looking. And the idea that he could do this to you, that he could deceive you, making you desire him, even… it was a rush unlike any other.

He thought he’d experienced this with Wednesday at Nevermore, but it wasn’t the same. You wore your heart on your sleeve, you were hopeful, and optimistic. You didn’t deserve this. That only made it more appealing.

It was then that he decided on his end game.

#tyler galpin smut #imagine #tyler galpin #wednesday #smut

[russellsppttemplates]

Many more to come (George Russell)

The shelves at Y/N's and George's flat were getting smaller for the amount of books and trophies that find themselves into their place

Note: english is not my first language. I added a little something, I hope it is okay!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

Tw: curse words, small mentions of smut

"What are we here for again?", your friend said as she pushed the shopping cart, "our shelves are getting full and we need some new ones. George has been squeezing his trophies in there at this point and they deserve a nice place", you explained as you looked at your phone, the code of the material you needed written in your notes app.

You and your friend had made an afternoon trip to IKEA after sharing lunch in town since you hadn't seen her in a bit and you also needed help with the things you were buying.

Looking down at your phone and the cart you had in front of you, you double checked you had gotten everything you needed before paying and somehow managing to fit everything in your car. Your friend had helped you carry the things to the flat before she bid you goodbye, leaving you to organise your work for the next couple of hours as you turned on the TV, catching the qualifying broadcast with ten minutes to spare.

You changed into your leggings and one of George's t-shirts, combing the hair away from your face as you got on with removing the books from their shelves as well as the trophies that George had collected over the years, cleaning them a bit before placing everything back in, your eyes travelling to the TV so you could see your boyfriend get in the first top 3. Later that night, George called you via facetime, "hello my love, congratulations on your grid position for tomorrow", you said as soon as the connection was settled, George appearing on your screen, his body sprawled on the white bed sheets as you admired how his eyes contrasted with his tanned skin and the colour of the bedding as he began to tell you about the day. "With all the grid penalties and the car, we kind of expected it but it's still good enough, the guys are feeling confident about tomorrow", he smiled "That just means everyone's doing a good job, that the car is heading where it is supposed to be, finally. How are you feeling about tomorrow?", you asked, snuggling further into the blanket you had draped around yourself, "I feel good about it, I know we have RedBull and Ferrari at it too but there seems to be some pace in the car", he said confidently, "You'll give it your best, I just know it", your proud smile could be seen from the stars even as you looked at George.

"Do you have any plans for when I'm back? I think I'm getting home just before dinner, and not going to lie, I really want to spend some time just the two of us", your boyfriend expressed and you thought it would be the perfect plan, "me too, I can actually think of a nice thing for us to do", you said as you looked to the pieces that you and George would hopefully be able to build into furniture before talking some more and then bidding eachother goodbye.

George had finished in third, and after a quick phonecall he was on his way back home to you, takeout already ordered to celebrate his race. You were putting the final things on the table when you heard the front door unlock, going to the corridor to see your tall boyfriend walking in and take his shoes off before discarding his bags next to the door, "Hello darling", he said as you made grabby hands at him as you approached him, landing on his chest as you enjoyed the feeling of being back in his arms, "I'm so proud of you, my love", you said as you looked up at him, puckering your lips so he could meet yours in a kiss halfway.

"So, what's this plan you have for us tonight?", George asked as he kept his arms around you while you guys made your way into the table on the living area of the place, "I ordered some food because I'm starving and I thought you'd be too, and if you're not too tired, we can build some new shelves for my books and your trophies", you tempted him, "the collection is growing and they deserve a nice place to be shown, not all cramped up in the unit there", you pointed to a spot that somehow was fitting four of his trophies, along with a few helmets that also deserved a worthier place to be. George chuckled before he placed another kiss on your forehead, "and how do you plan to build it? You're not suggesting we suddenly turn carpenters in a couple of hours, are you?", he teased before you headed to the room where you had kept the new boards, the one closest to your reach ending up covering your height and George online giggled further as he was only able to see your feet and hands, "So you're the board? I don't think your butt is flat in the slightest though darling, I don't think that's going to work", George teased before he grabbed the wooden board and set it back in the floor, his hands moving to your butt and giving it a squeeze, "When did you get all of these? You said you were going for lunch". Pulling his hand so you could go back to the table to eat, you sat down and started opening the boxes, "I needed help to get all of this from IKEA so she helped me after lunch", you explained as you both dug in.

The instructions were open in front of you, with you separating each time of screw in little plates to avoid mixing them up as you handed George what he asked, "No you can grab that bigger one and join those two while I do these", he said as you got to work before getting up so you could both lift it, "Careful with your fingers when we put it against the wall, darling", the driver reminded you, his worry ever so present as you finally got your furniture placed.

"Well done, Bob the builder has nothing on us", you said as you highfived your boyfriend, "Now, how many trophies do we have to put here?", you started counting the ones you set on the table before George came back from the bedroom with the new acquisition to his collection he retrieved from his bag, "Oh, this one is pretty", you said looking at it as you made a quick math about where and how you could fit everything. "Where is this one from?", you asked, not recognising it straight away, "that's from F2, it was the first one I won in there, even my grandma went to watch that one", he said as he grabbed the trophy and reminisced in the memory, "but I do know this one", you grabbed the first trophy he had won when you were dating, the day one of the core memories you had together. George had invited you to a race and, since his parents were not able to be there, you were alone in his garage and that was when you noticed what he meant when he said they were family too. How everyone had welcomed you and offered you everything they could, how they had given you a set of headphones and how you were able to talk to so many people from the team without feeling like you were the odd one and, to finish it off, how George had won that race. "It was also the day I realised you were it too", George said as he kissed your cheek, helping you arrange it in the shelf.

George volunteered to help with the books and his helmets as you grabbed his trophies, quickly reaching to a halt, "Darling, I can't reach the upper shelf, ai need your help please", you blushed at your admission as George finished putting the last stack of books in one of the lower shelves, "Come on, up", he said as he got up and patted your thigh, hoisting you up so your legs wrapped around his strong waist and you both finished your work. Admiring all of it, George noticed how you had left a bit of space empty, "Why don't we move those around that one? It looks weird with that emptiness there", he suggested, "George, at the speed you're going, quite literally, that space is going to be filled anytime soon, there's many more to come from where those came from", you smiled as you grabbed your boyfriend's neck, pulling his face to yours as a kiss developed to a few more, his hands going back to your hips as he caressed your skin under the t-shirt you were wearing. "You think so, hm?", he said cockily as he hoisted you up again, his hands grabbing your thighs as he carried you to the bedroom for some final celebrations.

#george russell imagine #george russell × reader #george russell fic #george russell fluff #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

[forbidden-sunlight]

Hi,love!!! Congrats on 100 followers!!So glad to be able to have helped you through your journey with your amazing stories and such :).

Could i get Chiffon Cake with Regis from Father,I don't want this Marriage?(recently,I've written..angsty(?) stuff for him.A bit of fluff would change the tone)

Thank you!!

Order up for one slice of chiffon cake with Regis Floyen from Father I Don't Want To Get Married~! Thank you for your patience, dear customer :)

Enjoy!

Regis was a very busy man. Including managing his household and the territories that were under his protection, any remaining free time would be spent on either training with the soldiers or preventing that damned Mikhail from making further contact with Jubel after she broke up with him.

However, it seemed like the mongrel had yet to understand that his precious daughter was not ‘putting on a performance’ just to get his attention. She actually seemed to be much happier…and it saddened him that he could not give her the attention and affection that she deserved. Not just her, but the only other woman who had been by his side through thick and thin.

You. His wife. 

Upon hearing his grievances one evening after another tiring day, his precious treasure pulled him into a tight hug, stroking his hair. 

You  appreciated everything he has done to ensure that Jubel can live a comfortable life without worry, but at the end of the day he is human. He needed to eat, sleep, and rest. 

And since you had no plans tomorrow, you  would be more than happy to tackle his morning workload so he can sleep in a little longer and take Jubel out until he returns in the afternoon. His aide would be here to help if you had any questions or concerns. 

A win-win situation, was it not?

Frowning, he reluctantly pulled away from the embrace to look at. “Darling, are you certain?” He asked. “I do not want you to overwork yourself either!”

And it was true. Like him, [First Name] took her duties as the Duchess of the Floyen duchy seriously, ensuring that the payroll, household budget, and maintenance around the duchy were in order amongst other obligations. However, not even Amelia had wanted to take on his workload at the same time. 

[First Name] waved off his concerns with a smile. “I am quite certain, darling. This is the least I can do, as I have no other obligations to attend except responding to a spiteful letter that Baroness Poe had sent me before she mysteriously disappeared two weeks ago.” She raised a brow at him. Regis swallowed.

“I-I see.”

Goodness, had he gotten so careless?

Any suspicion on his wife’s face was erased within moments. “Then it’s settled!” You beamed. “And if there is something I nor your aide cannot understand, I will set it aside and have you look at it upon your return in the afternoon. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes.” It was more than acceptable. This…this was almost too much for Regis to comprehend. 

He stared at his wife for a long moment before he pulled her into a loving kiss, savoring the warmth of her body pressed against his in the comfort of their dimly-lit room. What in the world did he do to deserve such a precious, lovely person? 

Regis would make sure to stop by her favorite sweets shop tomorrow on the way home. He was sure Jubel would not mind at all; if anything, he was quite sure she would also find a gift to bring back to her Mama. Perhaps some excellent tea leaves from the North, or even a new book?

Either way, he was now quite certain that tomorrow would be a wonderful day.

#yandere manhwa x reader #x reader #forbidden-sunlight #father i dont want to get married #yandere #ns.fw #yandere x reader #100 followers #follower event #cafe event #yandere regis floyen x reader #yandere male

[pillow-anime-talk]

8. “Bring your ass over here. I wanna some cuddles (or kisses, both if its okay).” -samatoki🍭

# tags: scenario; current relationship; cute romance; fluffy shit; living together; work!au; ooc!samatoki; text messages; sfw

includes: female reader ft. samatoki aohitsugi {hypmic}

author’s note: thanks again lollipop anonnie!

8. “Bring your ass over here. I wanna some cuddles and kisses.”

The afternoon shift was by far the most boring, tedious, full of unwillingness to live and longing for the warmth of you and your partner’s apartment (and that pleasant smell of his cologne he used since you gave him his first bottle on your second Valentine’s Day).

Just as the morning shifts seemed to make the most sense (and you still had the whole day to yourself so you could go for a walk, go to the doctor, or even meet up with friends), the 2 or 4 p.m. shifts were really stupid for you; you walked like clockwork all the time so you wouldn’t be late for work, and you ate lunch in a hurry – often alone – and cleaned your apartment as if you were in a race, hoping to catch the bus or subway to your office; you worked in a modeling company and specialized in choosing outfits for models from around the world. You also often helped the photographers and talked to star managers or parents of child actors, asking about the preferences of their pupils.

It was Friday and all you dreamed about was coming home, a hot bath in a bathtub filled to the brim with white foam, something warm to drink, e.g. tea with honey and lemon or milk chocolate with a pinch of cinnamon, a bowl of your favorite fruit with muesli and natural yogurt and an episode – or maybe three – of your favorite series. Unfortunately, instead, you were forced to choose colors and accessories for your Monday clients. You’ve been given the tough task of combining light jeans, brown leather and rose gold.

At some point, your phone vibrated, and due to the fact that you were alone (except for Mrs. Yuu – the cleaning lady who has been working for the company for over twenty years – and your dearest female friend who was on another floor of the building), you quickly unlocked the phone, smiling under nose.

toki toki; yo, bring your ass over here. i wanna some cuddles and kisses. now. please.

A light giggle escaped your lips and you just shook your head. You had a little over two hours left on your shift, plus you had to allocate another half hour to get back to your small apartment. You also wanted to stop by the night shop for some food on the way, but you definitely didn’t have the energy for that. You have decided to go to the supermarket tomorrow due to the long-awaited weekend, and thus a day off from work and professional obligations.

you; i want to hug and kiss you too, but i’ll see you in three hours :( i can’t leave early today, i did it a week ago...

You reluctantly looked at the monitor, sighing and resting your chin on your left hand. The night time definitely did not help at work. Moments later, you heard another incoming message.

toki toki; quit that dumb job, i make enough money to support us, you know that, bunny

You just sent a smiling face with heart-eyes emoji in response, then put your smartphone away from view. You had to focus on your duties; only after the shift was over could you think about Samatoki and other pleasures.

#—🎉 #quote prompts #prompts challenge #4k followers #4k special #prompt 8 #hypnosis mic #hypnosis mic scenarios #hypnosis mic imagines #hypnosis mic x reader #hypmic #hypmic scenarios #hypmic imagines #hypmic x reader #samatoki aohitsugi #samatoki aohitsugi scenarios #samatoki aohitsugi imagines #samatoki aohitsugi x reader

[happyinjection]

♠️♥️High Card Short Story 4 “The Hectic Daily Life of Wendy Sato” (2/3)♦️♣️

Stopping at a ramen shop for lunch, Wendy came across the familiar faces of Finn and Chris.

Original: https://twitter.com/highcard_pj/status/1537269060185993218

Author: https://twitter.com/poipheno

Artist: https://twitter.com/ebimoji3

Vijay’s chai seemed to permeate into every pore of my being, I felt so much more energized after I drank it.

As I was the office manager, naturally the morning is the busiest time for me given that the number of customers peaked in the afternoon. I made some progress, but when I glanced at the clock, it was almost noon before I knew it.

“Wendy, go take a lunch break.”

Leo said as he kept his eyes on his laptop.

“Eh...... I still have work to do, though.”

“You always say that and end up missing lunch. I’ve already said you can go. Aren’t you supposed to do as your boss says?”

“No, but..... ah, Leo. In the afternoon I must attend the usual appointment with the president, and then tomorrow there’s also a meeting with the manager of head office—”

Leo waved his hand lightly without bothering to look over, shooing me away.

“Fine, fine, I got it. I’m going now.”

♠️♥️♦️♣️

It had been a while since the last time I went out for lunch at this hour. Most of the time, I skipped it altogether due to not having much time to spare, or simply bought whatever I could get my hands on at the store.

That’s why today I picked a place which I’ve been interested in for some time. I took a seat near the counter. However.

“..........ugh.”

“Oh, Wendy. It’s rare to see you having lunch out.”

“Heh, it’s you again. So you're craving for ramen too, huh—”

The place I entered was a popular ramen shop. In the afternoon, it was usually bustling with customers that people had to line up, and thus since I felt uncomfortable eating by myself, I thought it was the perfect time to try it out, but...

“Finn said he’d never had ramen before, so I brought him along.”

“Yeah, I’m hella pumped!”

I rested my elbow on the table, sighing.

“Of all people, why must it be you two who caught me...”

“Huh? What’s wrong with getting caught eating ramen?’

Finn looked confused, but Chris quickly cut in.

“Finn, you idiot. At her core, even Wendy possesses the heart of a lady.”

“What a roundabout way of putting it.”

“Finn. One remark such as that could spell your own demise. Those words may as well be the last message of your soon-to-be-dead senior, so make sure to never forget them.”

“Can you please stop pinning me as a dangerous guy in front of Finn?”

Suddenly Finn made a face as if he just remembered something. “Oh, right, I wanted to ask you, Wendy.”

“..........What is it?”

“Uhhh. You see, about that dish you like so much. Ehh~ What do you call it? Chris, that thing, y’know. That,”

“Oh, that. It’s that thing, ain’t it, that.”

“Yeah, exactly that! So what is it called? That thing?”

“What is it again. Let me think. That thingy? Thingy-thing?”

“Damn you, stop playing! You know exactly what I meant! The thing!”

“Just what are you guys on. Are you talking about takoyaki?”

“That’s it! Tako-yaki! I want to try it too!”

“Wendy’s got a takoyaki maker at her place, let me tell ya—”

“Do you usually eat takoyaki at home?”

“Takoyaki is not something you usually eat alone at home, isn’t it.”

“Don’t make it sound like it’s common sense, how am I supposed to know. You know what, maybe you should bring that takoyaki maker to the office sometime.”

“Ooh~ Sounds like a plan. So there’s gonna be a party. I want to join, can I invite some girls?”

Chris put on a pointless show of fixing his collar.

“Yaaay! It’s a tako-party!”

“Hahaha, don’t get too excited, Finn. Hahaha.”

“Not a chance! We’re going to get everything covered in grease.”

“Told ya there’s no way I could’ve known that. Hey, Chris, let’s pester Leo later. Deep down he’s still a kid, I bet he would become elated at the mention of a party.”

I let out a long sigh.

“The thing is, Leo would never allow such a—”

“Hush, Wendy. I don’t care about what you think. It should be acceptable if it’s the manager himself who wants to throw a party, is it not.”

“Yeah. Wendy’s a samurai, so she would never disobey the whims of her superior.”

“Woah, samurai! Also, harakiri! Bushido! Onigiri! Harasho!”

“You, are you stupid or what. The last one’s clearly wrong.”

Chris and Finn were having a blast on their own.

“I’m guessing you’re going to drag Vijay into this too, aren’t you? He won’t approve of it.”

“Uh-huh! Vijay!?!? Feed him leeks!”

“Exactly, just give him some leeks and he will be happy. Wait. Do takoyaki have leeks in them?”

“Why is Vijay so fond of leeks, anyway?”

Just then, our ramen orders were brought in and placed in front of us. Bundles of noodles steeped in transparent golden broth, with garnish arranged neatly on top.

“Woow~ looks tasty! Itadakimasu!”

My hunger had got to the point where it became unbearable, so I immediately put my hands together.

“What’s that, some sort of ritual?”

Once again, Finn had a confused look on his face.

“Back at home, we often say ‘itadakimasu’ and ‘gochisousama’.”

“I see. Then I’ll do it too. Itadakimasu!”

Finn put his hands together as well while still holding his chopsticks.

“Eat your heart out, Finn! Today’s meal is a treat from your senior Wendy! Grab some more eggs!”

“When did I ever say that!”

“Ya....hooo......”

Finn brought the noodles to his mouth in one awkward movement using his chopsticks. And then, after a moment’s pause,

“So good!”

He flashed me a boyish grin. Following that, it occurred to me.

“Hang on, Finn. You’re not holding your chopsticks right.”

“Huh? So what, does it even matter.”

As he fiddled with his chopsticks, Chris commented,

“I can’t believe there are still people who can’t use chopsticks nowadays. You can find them at any Asian restaurant, can you not.”

“I rarely eat out. Come to think of it, Lindsey had once made us use chopsticks during mealtime when we were learning about food in different cultures.”

“Doesn’t that mean you’ve used them before?”

“Not really. I fled from home that day. They’re such a hassle and making it difficult to eat.”

“Well, practice makes perfect. You will be able to hold them properly once you’re familiar with them. Here, try holding them like this.”

I grabbed on his wrist and corrected his position. While maintaining the new stance, Finn tried to pick up a mouthful, but the tips of his chopsticks were visibly shaking.

“..........It’s insanely hard to eat like this, though.”

“As long as you practice, you would definitely get used to it. Do your best.”

“There you go, the moves of a master swordsman!”

While Chris took the opportunity to tease me, Finn yelled out his frustration.

“Enough! This is impossible! I’m just gonna use a fork!”

“You’re no longer a kid, Finn. Watch this, my smart, elegant, slightly risky chopsticks wielding technique.”

Chris wildly swung his chopsticks around to all directions with one hand.

“Ooh, cool!”

“Listen, it is no different to driving a car. Move your fingers passionately, like how you would treat a woman.”

“You two have no manners! Come on, the noodles are getting soggy! Eat up then leave!”

“But you took part in our conversation too, right.....”

“J-just as he said, Wendy.”

The moment I shot them a glare, both of them shrugged in unison and went quiet, then began slurping on their ramen.

Once we had finished our ramen, the three of us drank tea before returning to the branch office. I let Chris pay for our bills.

♠️♥️♦️♣️

TL notes: I’m in no way a professional translator so if you find any mistakes, please do not hesitate to inform me right away. I love the High Card gang and I found it very unfortunate that while it is meant to be a multimedia project, I can’t seem to find the translated versions of any materials (beside the anime) anywhere (if this is against copyright, I will take it down). Hopefully this small TL would help international viewers gain better understanding of HC universe and characters. The author of these SS himself said that he hoped fans would have their “so that’s what it is!” moments when they watch the anime after reading his short stories. So with that in mind, let’s enjoy High Card together~

#highcard #high card #short story #hcss #wendy sato #finn oldman #chris redgrave #translation

[mesanthropi]

hihihi moots as svt memes go!

i feel like i know you from somewhere, anon 👁️👁️ but i have a shit ton of those so LET'S GO. I'M DOING THIS FOR ALL MY MUTUALS (memes under the readmore)

@wheeboo still can't believe we're moots. anyway, i literally just clicked on this one solely for the captions, but i guess i just gravitated to seungkwan naturally. we're all shocked by capitalism, but ate rani would be the most shocked by it. (she'd hate gas prices here in the ph)

@weird-bookworm these are all gonna be gose pictures, huh? /j this was literally her with me earlier this afternoon. like i was all "should i let the intrusive thoughts win", she came into the replies, then on discord HAHAHAHAH im so sorry you have to deal with my nonsense, but i am stuck with you like oxygen to blood cells.

@3ninth ok not a kpop mutual, but i don't have many mutuals so ya'll are here now no matter what fandom you come from 👉👉 homie is my fellow discord mod. miss her sm fr, hopefully she's back when the owner pops back in from school activities!! if you see this, paula, hope ur having a great time. if not, tell us who we need to beat up

@fairyhaos ATE YENAAAA <33 ok so as an alternative, there's [this], but! primarily, she's giving. this specific mingyu pic. this was defo them during the shua dating rumors and i don't blame her, BUT ALSO. I FEEL LIKE THIS IS ALSO A THING WHENEVER AN ILLEGAL REQ POPS INTO THE ASK BOX. WHEN ARE WE GETTINBG AN UPDATE ON THE COUNT /JJJ

@kyeomyun she's the homie frfr actually. jadaders would tbh go "that's unfortunate" with the biggest smile on her face if there's any minor inconvenience that happens to either you or her. it's either in a way where girlie is fr amused by your misfortune, or this is a call for help. she's going thru it @ school so hopefully she gets a break soon ^^

@i-luvsang just for you, i'm getting an atz meme (and also bc its their 5th debut anniv <3). feel like marimoon would get the nearest stuffed animal in a shop, call for me, and do this with the blankest face they can manage. i'd lose my mind ofc i laugh at everything but especially shit like this. it's deadpan humor, i swear

@hannyoontify KIKIEEEEEEE <333 DO YOU LOVE ME /LYR /J anyway, kie!! my homie kie, we miss you here at residencia misantropia. moving on, we have this lovely jeonghan screenshot from a knowing bros episode. feel like this is their mood sometimes. hopefully you're taking care of yourself, man! when you come back, we're here with open arms fr ong!!

@joshuahonggf JIAAAA we don't talk much but i adore her sm. [img text's rough tr: i know you're getting nervous about tomorrow, sis] we'd probably be the type of homies who'd spam e/o on discord about a project we're grouped up in. or an exam. or a performance, one or the other. but we end up doing great anyway B))) we're cool like that

@haowrld HI PRE 👉👉👉 abnother filo buddy of mine hehehe. wishing u luck on ur fic btw! i assign to you this woozi screenshot. because sometimes, we get those moments of having zero thoughts in our head. this is also at every writer ever, we're good at imnagining shit but actually writing it is either the hardest thing ever or it comes naturally. goodluckies!!

@wqnwoos HANA WHO CAME BACK BECAUSE ANON CALLED THEM POOKIE 👉👉👉 /jjj but seriously, hana was one of the ppl i first followed after i discovered svt fics on tumblr. she's one of the firsy writer si followed!! but considerinh the fact that she used my iwn salt shaker threat against me, this is what they'd send me i think. idk. its lke 1:21 am im getting sillier with these

@mach1nat1on YOU. ASSHOLE. TRAUMATIZER. IMN GIVING YOU THIS BECAUSE THIS IS WHAT I FEEL SOMETIMES WHENEVER YOU DO SOME SHIY IN THE PRIVATE SERVER. YOU HURT MY BBGS YOU HURT ME!! DID YOU KNOW THAT!?!?!??! NOW YOU'RE JUST SOMEBODY THAT I USED TO KNOW 🗣️🗣️ but i also love u dw i forgive u everytime and i support your righst and your wromgs. just know that we are forever in a love/hate relationship

@lumasahina im gonna sc this and send this to our priv server but!! hey dude <3 traumatizer numero uno right beside mac and holls. this is you wnheever i manage to put lore into my silly little writings and my silly little characters. and for the record, just so you know, i feel the same way sometimes. i love how you do lore tho! it's always so well-done n they flow well hehe

@holland (not @ing for other reasons) my HOMIE OF ALL HOPMIES, MY POOKIECAKES MY POOKUMS SNOOKUMS <3 sorry abt that those were rge demons. the voices. anyway! here's your assigned meme. skz just for you. i'd take pics of you like this. those 0.5 angles on iphone, then use them as reaction pics or emojis in our server. but i would also cherish these pictures bc they're you and you r my resident "across the world homie for years". stay safe, drink water, and i hope to finish ur req soon aughhhh

holy shit its like 1:53am now wtf

#selenicives.chr ✶ #edelweiss.txt #opened envelopes #my anon homies !! #<<< new anon tag :3 #rania・🌿 #sky・🌇 #paula・📦 #yena・🎤 #jada・🍰 #moon・🌙 #kie・🧷 #jia・🌼 #mellow・📹 #hana・🌫️ #machi・⚙️ #luma・🍃 #holland・🐇 #the regulars ✶ #ok so maybe i do have a few moots but!! i love u guys hehe