#continuing to just write about today's weather and call it a fic

[landwriter]

Desperate Measures | Dream/Hob | 1.2K | G v silly and fluffy, literally 90% air, dream attempts a romantic gesture, hob is a sap and forgetful, human au, part text fic

for @domaystic drabbles, Day 6: Under the Same Umbrella

---

Dream woke up to 26 texts from Hob. He put on his glasses and began his morning read. It’d replaced Times for him. The editorial quality, he thought, was far superior.

Hob (7:19 am) heading out, gave you a wee forehead kiss and you didn’t even stir. sleeping bloody beauty. love you disgustingly much x

Hob (7:26 am) couldn’t find my umbrella anywhere can you take a look if it’s not too much of a bother? feel like i’ve gone mad

Hob (7:30 am) christ it’s bucketing down!! standing under the eaves just to tell you how much it’s bucketing down

plants will be happy at least so will my goth boyfriend ;) hope your writing goes well today love. extra atmosphere!!

Hob (8:42 am) nevermind don’t look for it remembered that i left it in my office told johanna she can use it since i’m at the archives all day anyway glad i’m not the only one who’d forget their own head if it wasn’t screwed on :) :) :)

Hob (10:11 am) you should’ve seen the look lisa gave me when i showed up had to dry myself off in the men’s w half a forest of paper towels there goes my carbon offset from walking i said christ you’re probably still in bed asleep warm dry!! lucky bastard

wish i could come back already and drip puddles all over you

Hob (10:37 am) if this keeps up i’m going to look like mr darcy in the rain on your doorstep tonight don’t worry i promise not to propose marriage while insulting you xx although i do love you most ardently

...elizabeth

Dream smiled, read them all again, contemplated, and then sent his reply.

Dream (11:01 am) Sir, I appreciate the struggle you have been through

Hob replied moments later.

?? you sound like a customer service agent wait you’re quoting the film you can’t reject me if i’ve not proposed to you!! yet!!!

Dream snorted. 'and I am very sorry I have caused you pain' went the line. They’d watched it last weekend. Hob had cried, and Dream had privately decided that if Hob proposed, he’d say yes. Even if it was poorly done. It wouldn’t be, though. Not if Hob was doing it. He sent a second text.

...and I am very sorry you were drenched by rain.

Then he got out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen. His phone buzzed anew as he made tea and toast. He smiled at the sound. On their first date, Hob had warned Dream that he had a bad habit of annoying boyfriends over text. Dream, on his first date in six years, had wondered what it might be like to be so effusively charming that you could have enough boyfriends to form habits around them at all. He hadn’t known what to say, and Hob had ducked his head, grimacing a little, and said, “Just tell me to piss off, please, if I do? I know I can be a bit much.”

Dream believed it, because the man was telling him about his habits with boyfriends after one date. Not that he minded. And three months in, Dream had yet to tell him to piss off.

Turns out, a bit much was exactly what he’d wanted. Needed, in truth. Someone to tether him to the real world. His phone had become a modern-day lodestone in his pocket, a comforting pull of Hob-ness that would always point him back to life whenever he’d emerge, blinking and disoriented, out of the mire of his work. Work that he loved - creating worlds out of nothing, writing stories that would change people - but, coming on the age of thirty with nothing to show for it but recurring wrist strain and an upmarket flat that never had any guests, work that had also made him spend so much time apart from the rest of humanity that he was sometimes unsure how to rejoin it.

The tipping point had been when his eldest sister had found out that he hadn’t spoken to anyone else in between two of their regular dinners. Which were monthly. It had been mortifying. She’d smiled sadly, which was excruciating enough, and then gotten the gleam of a plan in her eyes, which had been far worse. “I’m setting you up,” she’d said. “I know just the guy. We go way back. I think you’ll like him.”

He had. Now, when his phone buzzed, he found himself frowning if it wasn’t Hob. (An exceedingly rare occasion.) But this time it was, of course. Four short messages sent one after the other:

hahahaha ok fine that was v good enjoy your day x

Five hours later, not even the curtain of rain awaiting him outside could douse the anticipation in his belly. An idea, he knew, was a powerful thing. Dream didn’t have an umbrella - Hob always shared with him, and would’ve apologetically nicked his if he had - so he would make the first leg of the journey as Hob did. He intended to go and get something nice, but once in the cold downpour, his resolve failed him almost at once, and he ducked into the first shop that had umbrellas in the window.

“Hiya,” said the girl at the counter without looking up from her phone.

Dream ignored her, blinking the rain out of his eyes, belatedly registering all the merchandise had a unifying theme and that he’d made a terrible mistake, borne of sheer desperation.

“Would you happen to have any other umbrellas? In black?” he asked. Hidden behind the counter, perhaps. If only you knew to ask.

The girl looked at him with an air of disbelieving reproval only accessible to teenagers and the very elderly. “You could try Boots, you know. It’s just down the street.”

Dream looked out the window. Rain torrented down. Commuters hurried past with their sensibly coloured umbrellas. From places exactly like Boots.

“Or we’ve got rain ponchos,” she added. It sounded like a threat.

“Nevermind,” said Dream quickly. “I’ll take it.”

“Enjoy your visit in London, sir,” she called out as he left.

He stepped outside and flicked open the umbrella with slightly more force than necessary.

Dream waited a few paces outside the archives, wanting to surprise Hob properly. Two separate pairs of tourists had thought he was their London Ghost Tours guide, and he was beginning to regret not holding out for longer, drenching be damned. Then Hob emerged, striding out and immediately stopping to pull out his phone. He was smiling at it. Dream smiled too, in anticipation.

A moment later his own phone buzzed loudly in his coat pocket, and Hob looked up in surprise.

“Oh my god,” he said. Then he said it again.

“I heard you needed an umbrella,” said Dream. He’d had the line already, since he got the idea. It had been very dashing and romantic in his head. It was somewhat undermined by the dreadful costuming choice that had been forced upon him.

Hob looked between Dream and the umbrella, bafflement melting into a happy laugh. He ducked underneath, pecking Dream on the lips. “I’m not sure I needed one quite this badly. Did you rob some poor tourist?”

“Unhappily, I paid for this.”

“Oh no,” said Hob, pulling away and pretending to inspect him for injury. “My poor darling. Your dignity.”

Dream sniffed. “I will recover.”

“Here,” said Hob. “I’ll carry it for you. You’ll only be guilty by association, then.”

They began walking, a bobbing Union Jack in a sea of blacks and greys. After the chief sin of ugliness, it was also a little small for two grown men, but Dream found he didn’t resent that at all, as Hob tucked him tightly into his side to keep them both dry. People gave them a wide berth. Tourists could never be trusted with umbrellas.

“You’ve rescued me, you know,” said Hob, nuzzling into his cheek.

“It wouldn’t do to have you dripping puddles all over the floors,” said Dream.

“Even if I looked terribly handsome, all wet and ardent?”

Dream bit his lip and smiled a little. “Perhaps you can be wet and ardent in the shower. Instead.”

Hob laughed again. It was Dream’s favourite sound. “Much warmer than the rain anyway. Deal.” Rain drummed down on their private nylon ceiling. “I was thinking chicken tikka masala for dinner?”

And so they made their way home, and although the rain never let up, Dream was so content and warm that he might’ve sworn they were walking in the sun.

#dreamling #domaystic2023 #this is DISTRESSINGLY sweet you've been warned #the sandman #three days in a row! #new record for actually doing a monthly prompt thing #continuing to just write about today's weather and call it a fic #my writing #the sandman fanfic

[talkfastwalkfaster]

Serenity ~ Ben Kenobi x Reader

��� ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ

A/N: this is set about 5 years after rots. reader is about 27 & obi-wan is 43. i was going to make a valentine anakin fic but that plan moved so enjoy my other love, hermit obi-wan. this is my first time writing smut so it might not be the best. also, if you have any feedback, it's welcomed & appreciated :)♡ WC: 3,041 Warnings: MDNI, smut, some angst

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ

Tatooine was known for its extremely warm temperatures, but today was worse than ever. Ben was drenched in sweat the entire day, making him wish they could afford a cooling system to install within their home. 

He noticed you never seemed to sweat as extensively as he did. He assumed it was because you were a native of the planet. 

“(y/n), are you certain that our animals will survive this weather?" Ben called out from the entrance of your home. His thoughts were consumed by his trusted stead, Eopie may have been able to sustain this weather in previous times, but that didn't ease his worries.

Ben headed into your house and over to the kitchen where you had been for the past few minutes. 

He rested his hand on your lower back and peered over your shoulder to watch you chop up some vegetables for dinner. If he was honest, he was a little envious that this heat was seemingly not affecting you as it was him.

Your mouth formed into a small smile as you continued cutting vegetables, “I’m certain, Ben, they’ve survived hotter weather than this before. They’ll be fine.”

He exhaled, his shoulders deflating as he continued to gaze at you. He knew his worries were futile, yet his concerns wouldn’t falter. “I know, I know. I just can’t help but worry for them.” 

This was his life now, he had accepted becoming a farmer ages ago, but there was still a lot more that he would have to come to terms with; he was still haunted by memories of the war, watching Anakin fall to the dark side, watching Qui-Gon die, watching Satine die, watching his beloved Commander and battalion turn against him in the blink of an eye…

He rubbed the back of his neck, attempting to shake the weight that always seemed to be weighing him down. “I suppose it’s just the heat getting on my nerves. It feels as though the heat of a hundred suns is shining down. I don’t know how you’re acting all nonchalant, I feel like I might as well be burning and yet you’ve barely broken a sweat.”

You glanced over your shoulder to look at him, “Well I have lived here all my life, I’m used to the heat.” The truth was that the heat always did manage to bother you a little, but you had grown up in the scalding temperatures, you were, unfortunately, accustomed to them. It made no sense for you to complain about it. 

“I don’t know how you do it if it’s not the heat that’s unbearable, it’s the awful sandstorms that are always passing through here,” Ben complained. Despite having lived on Tatooine for a while now, it seemed as though no matter what he did, he could never get used to the heat. His mind digressed toward Anakin and his hatred toward this planet, and he finally seemed to understand his point of view. But Ben quickly pushed that thought away as his heart ached each time his mind brought up his former student. 

He was brought out of his trance by the sound of your voice. “You’ll get used to them. Sure, they might not be ideal but Tatooine isn’t as bad as it could be. I mean the war never came here and the Empire has little interest in this planet. The weather may not be perfect and there are always things that could be improved here, but i can’t think of living anywhere else,” You mused. You knew that Ben got stuck in his head easily and you’ve known him long enough to see the signs of it. 

His brow always started to furrow and he stroked his beard, seemingly without even realizing it. You’ve figured out that the best way to bring him back to the present was to talk about where you are. Even though you’re not necessarily fond of praising Tatooine, he needs it, and that’s all that matters to you. 

“I wish I had as much patience as you do, my dear,” he sighed, taking in another deep breath. 

It all seemed so normal, this was a conversation that any couple could have. To any outsiders, you two would be seen as a regular husband and wife, like any other married couple in the galaxy. Ben was slowly starting to feel content with his life here, he could almost forget everything that happened five years prior. He could almost pretend that he did not come to Tatooine because of his failure, that he didn’t have to go into hiding, and that his life didn’t completely spiral because of one order.

Your face softened, knowing how difficult it’s been for Ben. It always seemed as though he was unable to completely move forward, despite his best attempts, because of whatever happened in his past. “Well, you've only been here what, 5 years? You have to give yourself time to adjust, sweetheart."

A faint smile stretched across his lips when you called him ‘sweetheart’. It was the most endearing pet name you had ever given him and he felt a warmness throughout his chest whenever you used it. It made him feel normal, he didn’t have to worry about his former life as Jedi Master and General Obi-Wan Kenobi anymore, he could just be Ben, your husband.

He chuckled softly, watching as you began to cook the vegetables before wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. “I know, darling, I know…” he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and sighed, breathing in the scent of you, something that always relaxed him.

As you cooked, your mind briefly wandered to Coruscant, Ben had once mentioned that he was born and lived most of his life there. You wondered if the planet was anything similar to Tatooine or if it was the complete opposite. You had always wanted to ask him more about his past, what he was like before you met him 3 years ago, and yet, for some reason, you could never bring yourself to give in to those desires.

However, as the two of you stood in the kitchen, you believed that now would be a better time than any to ask him, seeing as this was the first time in a while that he was truly beginning to relax. You hummed softly, attempting to keep the peaceful environment that had been created, “You said you were from Coruscant right? Is it very different from here?”

Ben stiffened slightly from his position behind you before forcing himself to relax, he knew you had no ill intent with your question. If this was any other time, he would have avoided your prodding, but for once, he decided to indulge you, even if only slightly. “It’s very different from here, my dear.” he held you tighter and kept his head resting in the crook of your neck, your familiar scent had always given him a sense of peace and calmness, something which he craved, wishing he could forever be engulfed in it.

“Coruscant makes Tatooine look like a ghost town. It’s full of large buildings and many different levels. You could always hear the buzzing of speeders and people clamoring to numerous places,” Ben paused for a second, wondering how much more he should tell you, before ultimately deciding it’s best to keep it brief, “Let’s just say there was never a dull moment there, my love.”

You decided to push your luck, desperately wanting to know more about your husband. You murmured, as if trying not to startle Ben with your next question, “Do you ever miss it?”

His heart immediately constricted at the thought, though he quickly dismissed it. There was no reason for him to start dwelling on what-ifs, this was his life now, and there was no changing the past. “My life there? No, not at all,” he replied quickly, the lie coming out easy. 

This has become a type of dance for him, every once in a while you would try to inquire about his past and he would always find ways to avoid giving too much detail. He would only ever respond vaguely enough to not make you suspicious while also satisfying your curiosity. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you what his past life actually entailed, it was still too raw, too painful. He didn’t want you to worry either. He knew that he couldn’t hide who he once was from you forever, but he couldn’t tell you today, not now. 

Ben rested his chin on your shoulder and muttered “I wouldn’t want to go back.” A half-truth, he’s not as fond of the planet as he used to be, but it still holds some sentimental value to him. It’s not that he would never want to go back to Coruscant, it’s that he can’t. If he ever tried he knew the Empire would be on him as soon as he was even remotely close to the planet’s atmosphere. 

You finished cooking the vegetables and raised your eyebrows slightly surprised, not expecting that answer from him. “Never?” you inquired, feeling slightly bewildered. “You’d really never want to go back? Was it that bad?”

Ben held you tighter and exhaled, that part of him died years ago. To him, Obi-Wan died the moment he left Anakin to die on Mustafar — he had been, in a way, reborn as Ben. He was just Ben Kenobi, a simple farmer, and your husband. Nothing more, nothing less. “It was fine, nothing particularly interesting happened to me when I lived there,” he lied again, giving you a soft kiss on the side of your neck hoping that this topic of discussion would die out soon.

You sighed at his words and murmured, “Dinner’s ready.” You decided to let the topic drop, knowing that he wasn’t exactly telling you the truth, but you hoped that one day he would trust you enough to let you completely in. 

The two of you ate dinner in silence, both of you seemingly lost in your thoughts. Ben had intrigued you from the start. You had met him at a market in Mos Espa, and he immediately stood out to you. From the way that he held himself to the way he talked. He looked like someone who had seen the galaxy, who had actually experienced life, something you had always wished to do but never had the luxury. His eyes — his beautiful, entrancing sapphire grey eyes that were like pools of sorrow. They showed a variety of complex emotions, something that made you want nothing more than to break down his highly built-walls and see who he truly was. 

Ben was never one to speak much while eating, he felt there was no need to fill the silence with meaningless chatter — he wanted to just enjoy being with you, you were everything to him. 

He had never thought that he would be able to have this, that he’d be able to feel happy again. For the first two years that he had lived on Tatooine, he had expected that he would be alone forever, that he had deserved to live a life of isolation. But then you came along and completely wrecked all those painful thoughts. 

Ben hadn’t realized that he was being completely quiet, he was still processing that he was married and a farmer — he never thought this was how his life would turn out. “Thank you for the dinner dear,” he remarked appreciatively. 

The corners of your mouth turned upward and your eyes brightened ever so slightly at his gratitude, “You’re welcome. I’m sorry though, I know it’s not much-”

He interrupted, “Don’t worry yourself, it’s perfect… You’re the best, you know that?”

You held back a smile, unable to resist teasing him a little. “Am I now?”

Ben brought your hand up to his lips and kissed the palm gently, “You certainly are, my dear. You are the best thing to happen to me in years and I wouldn’t have it any other way."

You leaned forward and kissed him, deciding that no words would be able to encapsulate how you felt towards him.

His heart fluttered as you kissed him, it was so tender and he was more than willing to return it. Your lips were soft and inviting, and he couldn’t resist pulling you into his lap, his hands gently caressing your face. In response, you wrapped your arms around his neck, desperately wanting to be closer to him.

You couldn’t help but moan softly into the kiss, your body was reacting to his and you were so comfortable being in his arms. He was all you needed in life, there wasn’t anything else that mattered. His hands slowly drifted down and began rubbing small circles on the small of your back. 

Your heartbeat quickened as the two of you pulled apart, the feeling of kissing him was intoxicating. You started to subtly grind your hips down, desperate for any type of friction. 

Ben gasped softly at your ministrations and quickly connected your lips again. The kiss between the two of you was full of love and passion. Your hands were everywhere, one wrapped behind his neck and your other around his shoulder, as if you were trying to entangle yourself with him.

Ben deepened the kiss, his tongue darting out and exploring your mouth. He couldn’t take it anymore and picked you up, heading straight for your shared bedroom. Your arms were tightly wrapped around his neck and you kissed all over his face and neck as he took you to the room. 

Once you reached the bedroom he gently laid you down on the bed and slowly made his way on top of you, wanting to savor each moment. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at you with an expression that could only be described as pure, devoted love before lowering himself and kissing you again, this time slower and more intimate than he had previously. 

Without breaking the kiss, he started to tenderly remove your tunic from your body, revealing your naked top to his gaze. The rest of your clothes were quickly removed and thrown off the bed as Ben began to kiss you everywhere — your neck, your shoulders, your chest, anywhere he could get his lips on. His hands slowly made their way down your chest, squeezing and massaging your breasts before finally heading towards your neglected pussy. You were completely entranced by his touch, his hands were sending shivers throughout your entire body, making you tremble with anticipation.

You whimpered in pleasure as his hands moved downward and he inserted one finger into your dripping folds while lightly rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb.  You hastily tugged on his own tunic, stripping him until both of you were naked on the bed. You grasped his shoulders and spread your legs open wider, inviting him to come closer. Ben slotted himself in between your thighs and hovered on top of you, his arms caging you in. 

Ben shifted slightly, slipping one hand in between your bodies to grasp his cock. He dragged the tip of it through your folds a couple of times before finally sinking into you. You moaned as he pressed himself closer to you, wrapping your legs around his waist as you adjusted to the size of his cock. 

You gripped his shoulders tighter, nails digging into his skin as you begged, “Ben, please, move.”

He slowly began to rock his hips, not wanting to rush this moment. The love between the two of you was palpable, your bodies fit together perfectly as if you were made for each other.  He moved his head to your neck, pressing soft kisses into the crook of it. He knew right then that everything he went through was worth it if this was his fate. All of his struggles and hardships faded away as if all that mattered was you and him. 

Your moans grew louder as he gradually picked up his pace, the wet squelching sounds of your skin meeting filled the room. Your nails raked down his back, pleasure completely filling your senses, the only thought on your mind was Ben. 

As your lips met again, the kiss was tender yet rough, a juxtaposition that seemed to also perfectly describe your husband. You could feel your orgasm looming, squeezing his cock and pulling him deeper into you. He moaned into the kiss, his hips stuttered, spilling inside of you, coating your insides with his cum. His orgasm triggered your own, whining loudly as you spasmed around him, your whole body trembling as you rode out your high.

The two of you laid there for a while, basking in each other’s presence before he slowly pulled out of you, the mixture of your cum slowly running down your pussy and thighs. 

You leaned up and gently kissed the side of his mouth, “I love you, Ben.”

A soft smile grew on his lips, his heart was overflowing with his love for you. He had never felt like this with anyone but you — you were his person and he was yours, you were perfectly suited. He had no doubt in his mind that you were his soulmate, and he’d thank the Maker that the Force led him to you. “I love you too, my dear.”

You looked up at him lovingly, knowing that this was where you were meant to be, everything seemed right, everything made sense, when you were with him and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You knew in the back of your mind that you still had ways to go with Ben, but in this moment, none of that mattered, you’d have him in any way you could.

He exhaled and pressed his forehead against your shoulder — leaning against you in this way felt very nice. His body, mind, and soul felt rejuvenated just by being in your presence.

The two of you shifted so that you were laying your head on his chest and your legs were intertwined. Slowly you and Ben drifted asleep, your bodies, minds, and souls forever entwined.

#nat's tales #obi-wan kenobi #obi wan #ben kenobi #ben kenobi x reader #⋆obi-wan⋆ #obi wan x reader #ben kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi x reader

[parkerpeter24]

Arguing about what Christmas movies to watch with any Peter you want! And maybe

“I may or may not have left some….marks.”?

It doesn't need to be smut💖

this fic was exactly 777 words for some reason? 😭 i loved writing it!!! i made it my baby ps4 pete

pairing: PS4!peter x reader

winter blurbs 3.0 ❄️

peter was home alone. he was supposed to go over at may’s today but she was busy at the feast centre. the only thing peter could think of was to go over to your place and hang out with you.

so he changed quickly into his spidey suit, packing his clothes into his backpack. singing it over his shoulder and he was off to your place but when he reached your window, the room seemed empty and cold. he knocked anyway, receiving no reply. he sat down on the railing, pulling out his battered phone from his backpack he typed in your contact name and called you.

after a few rings, you picked up, your voice breathy.

“you’re out?” he asked.

“went grocery shopping.”

“in this weather?” peter asked, voice amused.

“i wanted to eat ramen, pete. you know i’d do anything for some good ramen.” you giggled and peter heard your front door open.

“well, can you open the window?” he asked, hearing shuffling from your apartment until he saw you opening the door to your room.

“i thought you were going over to may’s?” you mumbled into the phone still as you made your way over to the window, unlocking it for him.

peter quickly stumbled inside, hanging up and giving you a shrug, “she’s busy with martin, feast work.”

you gave him a smile, “fancy some ramen?”

after a while, the two of you were cuddled under the bed, finished ramen bowls kept on your bedside table as the two of you browsed through movies to watch on your laptop.

peter’s arm was lazily draped around your shoulders, his hand playing with your hair, “nightmare before christmas?”

“a little too late for that, parker.” you chuckled, looking at him.

“wanna watch a christmas movie?” he suggested and you nodded your head, “which one?”

you scrolled through the options, “silent night?”

“i’m sorry, i thought you said it was too late for that.” he gave you a look, making you roll your eyes.

“it’s not a halloween movie.”

“keep scrolling.” he said, not giving you the chance to do so as his finger met the screen of your laptop, scrolling past ‘silent night’, “maybe something classic like love actually or jingle all the way?”

you scrunched up your nose in disapproval, “we’ve seen it too many times.” it was peter’s turn to roll his eyes.

“it’s classic for a reason, babe.”

“how about we watch something new?”

peter gave it a thought and shrugged, “go on.”

“willy wonka?”

“that’s old-”

you cut him off, “i was talking about the new one.”

“that’s not exclusively a christmas movie.”

you groaned and looked back at the screen, “holidate?”

“cliché”

“christmas with you?”

“even more cliché.”

you looked at him with a straight face and he just kissed your forehead. you rested your head on his shoulder and just clicked on the next movie you found, “we’re watching family switch.”

“fine with me.”

the two of you watched the movie and you tried to keep your focus on the movie even though halfway through it peter was nestling his face into your neck, his lips grazing your skin. you kept your eyes trained at the screen, feeling him place butterfly kisses along your neck, “what are you doing?”

“got bored.” he mumbled back to your question, placing more kisses along your neck and collarbone, relaxing against the bed. your focus was breaking once peter’s hot tongue swirled against your warm skin. you gasped a little, feeling his teeth nip at your collarbone.

“it’s a nice movie.” you claimed.

“this is better.” he continued leaving kisses over the spot he bit before trailing kisses from the base of your neck, up to your jaw. his teeth biting into your skin every once in a while was followed by him soothing it by swiping his tongue over it.

it must’ve been almost ten minutes before you shut your laptop, pushing it away. your hand travelled to the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

peter gasped a sound of surprise but kissed you back, his hands flying to your waist and pulling you closer to him. you pushed him back onto the bed, haphazard with the blanket as you straddled his lap.

when the two of you parted for air, peter’s eyes ran over your skin and he chuckled. you gave him a questioning look, “what?”

“i may or may not have left some…. marks.”

your hands went to the skin of your neck, dragging your fingers over the slightly sore spots.

“well…” you mumbled, smirking down at him, “it’s only fair if i return the favour.”

masterlist

#peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #ps4 peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker #ps4 peter parker #ps4 spiderman #insominac #insomniac spider man #insomniac peter parker #insomniac peter parker x reader #winter blurbs 3.0 ❄️

[chuuyaswifeandhoe]

Do you wanna say something?

Pairing: Chuuya x femreader

Warnings: pet names, teasing, swearing

I blame @ravencincaide for the creation this fic. She's my biggest inspiration when it comes to writing.

Reading on the sofa of your shared apartment was one of your favorite activities. And today the weather was also your partner, the rain hitting the windows being a relaxing sound for you. You were so caught up in that book, an enemy-to-lovers series, giggling like a teenager at every intense scene you passed, that you did not hear your dear boyfriend calling on you.

‘’Y/N!’’

You yelped, taking your gaze from your book to look for your boyfriend, it was not like him to raise his voice. Chuuya only chuckled when he saw your confused look and spoke again.

‘’Seems that the book has totally captivated you, doll.’’ He raised an eyebrow, taking out a bottle of wine from the cabinets. ‘’You want one?’’

You blushed at his affirmation. Of course, you were captivated, you were getting to the one-bed trope part in the book.  ‘’Yes, it’s a really… nice book. And yes, I’d love one, thank you!’’ Telling him exactly what was happening was out of discussion right now. You had to find out what the two characters were going to do.

He just hums while pouring you a glass. ‘’ Did you eat anything today or you just had your hands glued to the book?’’.

‘’Hmm? Oh, yeah I actually did eat a sandwich earlier.’’ your gaze never left the pages while responding.

‘’Good girl!’’ Chuuya chimed while sitting on the sofa near you.

That was the moment you stopped reading, your mind went blank. You blushed and covered your face with the book, what did he call you?? He could not do it, at least not right now. You were already flustered by whatever was going on in the book, you could not handle Chuuya teasing you. Sensing that something changed, Chuuya turned his head to look at you, only to find your pretty face covered with the damn book.

‘’Aww, did my pretty girl get all flustered from so little?’’ he smirked, one of his hands finding one of yours and pulling to get the obstacle out of his way so he could look at you.

‘’No, no, no, I don’t know what you’re talking about!’’ Your mere attempts to keep the book close to your face were useless, your strength not matching the gravity manipulator in any way.

‘’But I think you know, or you wouldn’ try to cover your cute face, would you? Now be my good girl and remove the book so I can be sure I am incapable of making you flustered.’’ He grinned, knowing this was going to be a very fun game. The more you wanted to deny that he had this effect on you, the more he was going to press the matter. Win-win for him.

‘’C’mon Chuuya, let me read!’’ You tried to protest, but he continued to tug at your book, succeeding in getting it off your face, showing him the blushing mess you were, your lips parted. He could only smirk at the sight, of you being so adorable.

‘’Such a good kitten you are! See, it wasn’t so hard.’’ His voice was like honey, pouring down, making you shiver. He knew what he was doing and you loved and hated it at the same time. And the fact your mind was already inebriated by the enemies-to-lovers book did not help with your situation. You let out a squeal, feeling his eyes burning your skin and you put your hands to cover your expressive face.

"Tsk! You were such a good little one, worthy of my praise, now you wanna become a naughty girl, doll face?" He was trying so hard to not break character and laugh seeing how you squirmed at every word. He loved teasing you, it was always a pleasure to catch you unguarded, making you a blushing mess, incapable of letting out any coherent thoughts. The most rewarding ones were the ones where he could see you getting down on the floor because you could not handle it anymore, almost melting away under his words.

You let out something that resembled a moan, but you were not sure. Fuck, you felt your face burning, and you were almost sure that you were worse than a tomato. It was not fair for him to be such a tease with you!

‘Chuu’ his nickname purred out of your lips, a desperate attempt to make him stop, but it just had the opposite effect. His hands grabbed your wrists pinning them over your head, his eyes scanning your features with a grin.

"Do you wanna say something, little brat? Hmm, to think you were doing so good for me a few moments ago, naughty, naughty girl. Now, say that I’m having no effect on you my sweet angel and I’ll just go back to my wine." His voice was almost innocent, but you knew better than to be fooled by his tone. He approached your face, his gaze over your trembling lips, then staring directly into your soul.

You inhaled sharply, it was too much, and your mind went blank. This was clearly a trap, one that you would walk right into independently of what answer you were to give him. An ‘I hate you’ left your lips in a desperate attempt to hurt him, but he started laughing.

"Trying to give me an attitude princess? Being such a rebellious little brat will get you nowhere. How about you try again, my little devil, hmm? C’mon, you might end up regretting every moment of this sassy attitude… or that’s exactly what you want, hmm? Maybe it is time I teach you a lesson."

#chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #chuuya fluff #chuuyaswife #chuuyaswifeandhoe #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya x y/n #teasing #bsd x you

[aerkame]

Can we get a Wally x reader neighbor who has a secret identity of a supervillain?

You got it! I kind of wanted to experiment with this one a bit to get a good idea on how to write different characters. Some villains remind me of people that really only need love or family in their life. (This does not take place in the Alive AU, or previously created AUs) Also I hope you don't mind this having multiple parts with multiple characters x reader? It just seems like such a fun idea!

And just a reminder since some people PM me a lot on this, the Welcome Home archive is updated each time I post a fic or request so you can check there if you missed something or if you are wanting to re-read a fic, way better than just scrolling around looking for it! :) Welcome Home Archive

_________________________________________________________

Laughter echoed throughout the house you resided in, having just completed yet another devious plan of yours. Well, devious isn't exactly what most would call them, just very annoying or petty really.

A part of you did feel some guilt when you ruined the picnic everyone had planned that day though, using your new and improved weather device to summon up a storm. They all looked genuinely upset this time. Frank actually yelled at you with Eddie having to hold him back, something he's never really done before while everyone scattered to get their belongings.

Everyone looked so disappointed in you, even the motherly figure of Poppy looked at you with a saddened expression. It did sting a bit to see that. Maybe it was something special that was going on? Whatever. It was none of your business anyways...you didn't care, you were just glad you had the mask on still.

The thrill of successfully pulling off that plan soon dwindled down to a quiet sniffle, having stopped yourself from crying again...something you found yourself doing a lot of when you were alone in the house. You wish you could be friends with them too, it just felt like you didn't belong here sometimes though so you never approached any of the neighbors much unless you needed to get something or if a neighbor needed help. Of course you could just be a menace and not help at all and plot all day everyday. However, you preferred to keep your villainous self a secret and enjoy the small moments of kindness this place had to offer. Besides, your plots weren't that bad really, right?

Stars you were so lonely and hopelessly confused about your purpose here. Some days it felt great to be mean and some days, like today, you felt awful.

Deciding you needed to quit moping around, you made your way to the bathroom to dress up in your normal clothing and to wipe away any evidence of crying, only to jump back upon seeing a flash of eyes in the mirror. You blinked a few times no longer seeing them...this happened so often you think you're starting to get used to it, perhaps you were just imagining things when you got stressed. You continued with dressing and wiping your face dry, the last thing you needed was someone bringing too much attention to you. Besides, you still had to get some groceries from Howdy's today.

It was still heavily raining by the time you made it into Howdy's shop, you didn't mind though. Rain is what brought you comfort in this world, it was the only thing familiar to you having always let the water soak you and smelling the deep earthy smells that came with the cool air.

-

Hearing the small chime of the bell, Howdy made his way downstairs to get behind the counter expecting one of his friendly neighbors. Instead he found the welcome mat completely soaked under your shoes with mud trailing inside...oh dear, that was going to be a hassle to clean up.

You looked behind you at the floor upon seeing the small strain on the caterpillar's smile. "Oh...sorry about that, I can clean it up." your voice trailed into a mumble. You didn't feel like being mean in public and what happened earlier was already making you feel guilty. Really, you have never once seen everyone that upset before. You recall Wally staring, no, glaring with a stretched smile right at you before you ran off. A shudder ran through your body, both from the cold and recent memory. Howdy gave you a look before rounding the corner into his office.

"That's quite alright with me! If anything I'll take you cleaning up my shop as payment for today." You could hear Howdy's voice trail further into the office as you watched him come back out with something in one of his hands. It looked like a large cloth?

The caterpillar unfolded the cloth and came over to where you were standing, draping the soft blanket over your shoulders. One hand gave your head a pat. "So, I guess you're here for your usual right?" The hand on your head stayed. It felt nice.

"Yeah" You pulled the blanket into you. "Thanks for this..."

You know what? Nah, I'm making this into chapters I love this too much, there needs to be more.

Next chapter: Frank has been keeping track of the villain's actions and daily routine, more than you yourself have and he's more than willing to let Wally know who he thinks it is that's been causing trouble.

#welcome home #welcome home arg #wh #fanfiction #wally darling #my writing #wally darling x reader #welcome home wally darling #welcome home everyone x reader #everyone x reader #welcome home howdy pillar x reader #howdy pillar #wh howdy #villain reader

[whxtedreams]

Chapter Two: Bittersweet

The Depths we Devour, a gothic horror detective!joel fic

Summary

Detective Miller begins to investigate the strange clicking sound coming from below the cellar when he hears you scream, rushing to protect you.

Word Count: 6.4k

Tags: joel miller has inappropriate thoughts about reader, Joel POV, reader is referred to as the girl and she/her, reader has hair that can be braided and reaches her back, reader wears dresses, protective!joel, joel calls reader sweetheart/honey, violence, joel shoots someone, near death experience, anxiety, reader goes non-verbal, joel comforts reader, joel can carry reader, joel undresses and dresses reader, comfort!, im screaming while writing this, height difference, joel describes reader as small (height), joel is a little bit of an ass to alex, joel examines dead body (kind of) - as always, if i miss any let me know

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

The Detective

Day Two

5am

His sleep is restless, an annoying clicking coming from below him keeping him from sleeping more than an hour at a time. At three, he lays flat on the floor with his ear pressed on the dark wooden floors. He grunts as the clicking stops, then starts again and he taps his head on the floor a few times before getting back into bed. He presses a pillow to his head, attempting to drown out the noise but his efforts are futile.

Click, click, clickclickclick, thump.

Click.

At five, he gets up from the bed, grumbling at the noise as he dresses for the day.

He stumbles down the stairs with a long, audible yawn, his eyes adjusting to the light of the sunrise shining through the windows. The storm which had settled overnight and caused such chaos has now passed, the clouds parting and clearing as the sun rises again, the harsh weather of yesterday reduced to the gentle blue sky and calm, refreshing, morning air.

He reaches the bottom of the stairs and pauses momentarily, his ears catching the soft song of her voice, a melodious tune paired with the soothing keys of a piano. It calls out to him just as it did yesterday, and he is drawn to it, like a siren seducing him deeper into its embrace.

 He finds her once more, her back to him as her soft voice rises and falls, paired against the soothing keys and the peaceful atmosphere of the morning. Her fingers dance smoothly over the keys, her movements and motions as fluid and pleasing to the eye as her voice is to his ears.  

“I flew back home. It seems everything's the same. Except that you weren't home ‘Hello,’ I call to no one. When you're home, you're home. When you're home, you're home.”

He listens in a trance until the song comes to an end, the words flowing and tapering off as the song comes to a natural and satisfying conclusion. His gaze remains fixed upon her, his body relaxing as he leans on the doorway, his arms crossed against his chest and a faint smile finding its way to his lips as he takes in the beautiful scene in front of him.

Her hair is braided in two small braids today, each sporting a delicate, soft pink bow at the end. Her dress is shorter today than it had been yesterday, revealing the delicate skin of her legs beneath it. The dress itself is a light shade of pink, almost white. There is another small bow at the back of her dress near the waist, giving her a young and youthful appearance.

Tooyoungtooyoungtooyoung.

She turns a moment after her fingers press the final key on the piano and brings an abrupt end to her song as she catches sight of the detective, a soft smile spread across her face as she sees him. However, as she turns, the dress rises slightly, exposing a brief hint of her thigh before he quickly averts his gaze. He refuses to continue to let his eyes linger in a way that he knows would be inappropriate.

He craves to touch her again, to feel the smooth skin under his fingertips as she responds to his touch with goosebumps on her skin, his every urge screaming at him to reach out for her, yet his body remains still.

Tooyoungtooyoungtooyoung.

“Good morning detective. You’re awake awfully early.” she remarks with a warm, kind smile, standing from the piano with a fluid, graceful motion. His gaze flickers downwards for a moment before settling back onto her face, his eyes momentarily caught by the soft, white lace-trimmed socks which rise to just below her knees. The sight draws his focus once more, and he swallows thickly, unable to help himself. His attention then returns to her face, trying to push away those thoughts that were growing increasingly... inappropriate.

To throw her soft laced covered legs over his shoulders as he-

She’s his client.

A younger client.

He clears his throat. “Couldn’t sleep.”

She lets out a soft sigh, beginning to move past him as she walks across the room, leading him into a smaller, more intimate kitchen as compared to the kitchen from the lower level of the previous day. She gestures for him to sit down on a stool at the island before her, moving towards the coffee pot as he follows along, settling down into his seat as she begins to prepare some coffee for them both.

“Was it the clicking?” She asks, her back to him.

He frowns, clasping his hands together as he leans on the bench. “What?”

“What kept you awake, was it the clicking? We’ve searched the whole house, can’t find where it comes from. It’s always lower, even when we go down to the cellar, it’s still coming from under the floorboards even though that’s the lowest part of the house.” She sighs as she busies herself.

“Any sugar? Milk?” She asks, finally turning to him as she asks.

“Just black coffee is fine.”

He frowns as she speaks, his curiosity piqued at the strange clicking noise. It was loud last night, like it was right beneath him. Yet the fact that it seemed to come from beneath the cellar only added further confusion to the mystery. But if the noise comes from under the cellar, how did he hear it so loud last night? 

He shakes his thoughts aside as she sets a mug of coffee in front of him, the hot steam filling the air above the mug as she does. “I don’t know how you drink it like that, it’s so bitter.” He is brought back to the present moment by her adorable little nose scrunch, his thoughts on the clicking momentarily diverted, if only for a few moments by her expression. He hates himself for finding her cute, but then, he can't seem to help himself when it comes to her.

"Yeah? I bet you have ten sugars, right?" He teases back, taking a small sip of the coffee. He watches as she rolls her eyes at him with a smirk on his face.

“No, that’s gross. I have honey and milk in mine.” She shrugs. His gaze flicks over to the jar of raw honey on the bench, a small Winnie the Pooh design on the jar standing out to him.

“Honey?” he raises his eyebrow at the jar.

“It’s really good, I swear.”

“I doubt that.” he responds with a teasing lilt to his voice, scrunching up his nose as he does so. She huffs in response, crossing her arms over her chest. Her small, adorable expression all but screaming out that he had clearly touched a sensitive spot with her.

He watches her pout and huff with amusement, a small corner of his mind telling him that he's just watching her and not trying to commit the moment to memory. That he's only watching her and nothing more. Yet, despite his attempts at denial, another portion of his mind remains focused upon these small, subtle details about how she makes her coffee, just in case he does end up having to make it for her himself, a desire to make it right for her.

Perfect for her.

No, of course not. He’s just watching.

She sits down next to him with a huff, but all trace of the small pout and the even cuter huffing soon vanishes as she sips the coffee, a smile spreading across her lips as it seems to hit all the right points of her taste buds. He watches her, catching a brief glimpse of the smile, before he quickly returns to his own mug of hot, bitter coffee.

She’s too sweet for him.

8:24am

A courtyard is situated on the other side of the conservatory, numerous large planter boxes filled with growing vegetables and herbs of all kinds, the small area arranged neatly and cleanly as it looks like its tended to regularly. The warm, soothing smell of the herbs and vegetables mix to form a pleasant air as the morning sun strikes the courtyard, casting its light to shine against the conservatory glass windows and the garden.

The girl mentioned as they ate breakfast together that she had not seen the grounds keeper for a few days, but that wasn’t unusual. The grounds keeper, Mia, is known to take small trips into the town a few hours from the manor and since there was a storm last night, it was more than likely she waited the storm out in town.

A woman with long wavy red hair kneels in front of a planter box, clad in a pair of gloves as she digs her hands into the moist soil, her bandanna tied around her head to keep her long hair out of her face as she frowns, focusing on the task before her. The sound of her movements and the quiet chatter of the occasional bird or passing insect is the only noise in the courtyard.

The detective doesn't care about being quiet, about startling the woman. His fingers wrap themselves around a metal chair neatly tucked under a table in the courtyard and drags it across the short distance that separates the two of them. He sets the chair down near her and sits down in it backwards, his legs spread around the back of the chair as he rests his forearms on the metal frame.

“I’m not in the mood sugar,” She sighs without glancing at the detective, her voice tired and slightly resigned.

Sugar.

“I prefer Detective Miller, actually.”

She turns to face him at the sound of his voice, her face registering a moment of confusion as she notices his sudden presence in the courtyard. She seems to be in her late thirties and her eyes are red, bloodshot. It's clear to the detective she's been crying. Small scratches line her neck, reaching down towards her collarbone. A dark bruise is beginning to take form under the collar of her shirt where her overalls are buckled over her shoulder.

Mia tugs the collar of her shirt slightly before she turns her attention back to the garden bed, clearly trying to avoid his gaze. She tries to reassure herself, her voice softer than before as she speaks.

"It's not as bad as it looks," she mutters quietly, but there's a waver to her words, and she seems to be trying to hide something.

“What happened?” The detective asks, his eyes tailing across her body.

There are splatters of blood and mud around the bottom of her overalls, a few small tears at her knees adding to the mixture of stains on her clothing. Her boots are caked in mud and grass up to the top, the grooves in the soles filled with small rocks that are pressed there from her travels. She was in the forest, he decides. 

“I was in town before the storm. Stayed the night.” She shrugs, her eyes diverted from the detective.

“Don’t lie to me.” He warns, shifting in the chair as he looks down at her.

Mia leans back on her heels, seeming to try and get some relief from the physical labour of the task, but she doesn't seem to get any. She looks exhausted, sick even, her movements sluggish now. Her eyes still avoiding his gaze.

“You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“It’s going to take an awful lot for me to think that of you miss.”

“I went looking for Doctor Lewis.” She confesses.

Joel nods, waiting patiently for her to continue.

“I went to the cave he’s been working out of, but then the storm hit. It was so dark and cold, so I went deeper to get out of the storm. But there were monsters in there.” Her voice is a mere whisper now, a sharp contrast to her earlier tones. When she mentions the monsters, there is a clear hint of fear and caution in the way she speaks. She speaks of them in hushed tones, as if they might take notice of her call and suddenly appear, eager to attack her once more.

Joel nods with a sigh as he stands from the chair, crouching next to her to get a better look at her wounds. She's scared, tired, and hurt, he can see it in her mannerisms. She flinches when his hand reaches out for her, pain making her hiss as she tries to shrink back and hide from the touch.

"You think it was a wild animal?" Joel attempts to assure her, his arms now retreated to his knees, his tone remaining calm as he speaks to her. "Caves can be dark at night, easy to make mistake shadows for something else," he says, suggesting that what it was might not have been reality, but just in her mind. 

"You think I'm crazy?" She scoffs, shaking her head as she stands up on shaky legs, trying to find her footing on the uneven courtyard ground. Her voice is sharp, defensive, but there's a hint of bitterness to it as she speaks.

“No,” He sighs as he stands with her, his knees cracking at the movement. “I think you’re tired and hurt. You should go rest, look after yourself. I’ll come find you when you’re feeling better, make sure you’re okay?” He tucks his hands into his jacket pocket, shifting on his feet and she slowly nods.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” She seems to give up when she acknowledges his comment, her shoulders slumping as if she's completely given in to the idea and that she might just be imagining things. She begins to turn away from him without saying another word.

She stops however, turning back to the detective as a look of curiosity and confusion spreads on her face, the wheels turning in her mind as she puts her experience in the cave together. She lets her thought linger, her voice a whisper as she speaks up again.

"I may be crazy or imagining things, but the same clicking we hear at night, it was in the cave too. Don't you think that's strange?"

The detective remains in the courtyard as she leaves, the sound of the clicks a lingering thought. The detective's fingers trail over his chin, thinking about the noise he's both heard himself last night and the occupants of the manor mention.

What is this damn clicking sound?

10:28am

Click. Click. Click. Clickclickclick, thump. Click.

The sound is loud, almost ghostly as the detective stands in the darkened cellar, his hands on his hips, his foot tapping in thought. It's as if something is calling to him, wanting him to pay attention to something hidden in the shadows.

The clicking seems to be coming from below him, from underneath the floor of the cellar, but there is no sign of a room beneath it. The clicking continues, faint but loud, the sound almost haunting as it echoes throughout the small, dark room. The detective shifts his stance, his eyes trying to pierce the darkness, and his hands reaching down to feel the floor in hopes of finding the source of the sound.

He had found a floor plan of the manor tucked away in Dr. Lewis’ study after leaving the courtyard. The underground level is fairly small, consisting of the staff kitchen, laundry room, storage room, cellar and an old boiler room.

No signs of a tucked away staircase, hidden room or ladder of any kind.

There is, however, the boiler room he found locked. On the map, there are two connecting rooms. The boiler room and an unmarked secondary room. 

The detective pulls out his small notepad, scribbling on the paper a reminder to ask either the girl or one of the staff where he can find a key to the room.

His neck snaps towards the roof of the cellar, a loud terrified scream coming from the levels above. His blood runs cold, he knows that scream. Over decades as a detective, Joel has heard countless types of screams. From a child screaming over dropped ice cream, to the extreme of someone screaming for their life.

 This one stands out from the rest, the sheer terror and desperation in it causing his heart to skip a few beats.

Her scream.

He drops his notebook without giving it a second thought, his legs automatically carrying him out of the room before he even has time to think. His boots are loud on the concrete floors as he sprints through the corridor and towards the stairs, his steps quick as he runs up them. He pushes the door at the top of the stairs open with his shoulder as he bursts through it, the door slamming against the wall from the force of his momentum, the sound echoing loudly as it does.

Her screams grow more desperate, and he turns towards the sound.

Upstairs.

“Get off her!”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“You’re hurting her! Stop!”

He doesn’t know what lies waiting for him upstairs, the unknown almost paralysing as the terrified scream echoes above him. His pulse is pounding in his body as it races through his veins, his heartbeat quickening with every step he takes, his mind focused solely on the screams as they echo throughout the entire house. He pulls his gun from its holster, unsure of what lies ahead but prepared for the worst.

A sound that will haunt him like the others. 

He kicks open the large wooden doors, her screams loud on the other side.

The detective freezes.

She’s on the floor, her back to him as she tries to scramble backwards. She cries as she slips in fright, her head hitting the floor.  

Mia screeches, her eyes widening in hunger as she grabs her leg and tugs. Her jaw clamps shut, almost as if she’s trying to bite the girl. Mia seems different, feral. Her eyes are no longer filled with fear, but with hunger. It’s as if a switch has flipped inside of her, and she has turned into something else entirely.

Alexander hits Mia over the head with a wooden stick, broken off from a chair. Mia screeches once more, a sound almost animalistic and not human but the impact causes her no harm. 

Mia’s hand reaches up towards the girl and before she has a chance to touch her again, a bullet hits her shoulder.

Her head snaps towards the detective as he stands in the doorway, his gun aimed at her. She screeches, scrambling to her feet.

“What the fuck.” The detective swears in shock. She should be in pain from the bullet. He watches as the blood seeps from her as she stands hunched over, her breathing laboured. There’s a high pitch angry screech before she sprints in the direction of Joel. The girl forgotten.

He shoots Mia again, this time in the leg but she only flinches as she runs erratically towards him.

He pulls the trigger on the gun, the shot ringing out loudly in the room as the bullet hits her face in the middle of her forehead. Her body twitches in shock, dropping to the ground like a rag doll as his shot makes contact with her. The sound of the gun echoes in the room, and the silence that follows seems even louder as he watches her fall to the ground.

She lies there, motionless on the ground, the detective taking in the sight of her form for a few moments, staring at her blankly. He wonders what might have caused this to happen to her, whether it was some form of fucked up rabies or something else entirely. He remains frozen in place for a few seconds before he reaches out with his foot to prod her body, checking to make sure she's dead.

What attacked her last night?

A broken sob snaps him out of his stare, the detective's attention now refocused on the girl. He tucks his gun back in its holster and strides with haste towards the other girl, concern evident in his actions as he moves quickly towards her.

She's pressed herself against the wall, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she experiences a state of panic. Her breathing is quick and shallow, her eyes darting around the room for something to explain what just happened, but she's unable to find a clear explanation for it.

He drops to his knees beside her, reaching out for her but retracting his hand quickly as he realises he might startle her. He looks down at her, taking in the sight of her body carefully, his eyes scanning every inch of her for signs of injury.

“Are you hurt?” He asks, almost panicked himself.

Her head turns, her eyes staring into his with fear, before her bottom lip starts to twitch, her body beginning to tremble. She falls apart in front of him, his heart shattering at the sight, as he watches the pain and fear she feels take over her.

Joel settles next to her as she cries, his fists clenching as her emotions take over and he struggles not to be able to hold her, to comfort her as she cries. The urge to reach out for her is strong, the urge to hold her and tell her everything is going to be okay tearing at his heart. He watches as she weeps, his eyes filled with concern and a small hint of sadness as the girl lets her emotions overwhelm her.

Her hand grips onto his sleeve, tugging him closer as she presses herself into his side, gripping onto him as if her life depended on it. He wraps his arm around her shoulder, finally pulling her closer to him as he does so. He can feel her trembling violently now, and his grip tightens around her as if he's trying to offer her some comfort in the form of his touch. His other hand settles on her head, gently holding it close to him.

"You're okay sweetheart, you're okay." He whispers softly, his voice gentle and caring as he holds her close and softly rocks her, attempting to offer her comfort and support in words as he tries to soothe her.

Her hand grips onto his shirt, and he feels her tears stain as the emotion pours from her, but he doesn't find himself caring in the slightest. He doesn't mind being stained with her tears, it's the least he can do to help her. He lets her grip his shirt as she sobs, his body becoming stained by her tears as he comforts her, his own hand wrapping behind her head as her head nuzzles into his chest. The feeling of her body pressed against him warm and comforting, soothing his own fear.

"What the hell was that?" Alexander swears, his voice a rough and harsh whisper as he stands across the room, looking down at the body of Mia. The blunt wooden stick still gripped tightly in his hands, staring at her as the pool of blood expands around her. His own shock overwhelming him as he stands there.

“I want you to go find Eliza, make sure she’s alright,” Joel instructs him, trying to keep him busy with a task to keep his mind from wandering to the body of Mia.

Alexander takes his eyes off Mia, looking down at the detective holding the girl close and comforting her, the girl sobbing into his chest. He frowns but seems to accept the situation at hand now and nods. "Yeah, yeah, I can go do that."

He turns and heads out the room, stepping over Mia’s body as he leaves.

Joel closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall as he holds her close to him, trying to calm down from the adrenaline rush. Her sobs have calmed in severity, but her body is still shaking slightly as she remains in his grip. He slowly rubs her back, and she seems to sink into his touch, her body relaxing in his arms.

He looks over at Mia again, but she's no longer his primary focus, his attention now turning to the girl in his arms. Now that her crying has subsided, he takes a long and careful look at her, the red watery eyes staring up at him from below. His hand covers the side of her face, his thumb making small and gentle movements that he hopes will be comforting to her, his gaze locked on with hers as he searches her eyes for any hints of her mental state.

“How about I take you to your room while I sort this out?” He proposes, his voice soft and gentle as he looks down at her.

She nods, her eyes wide and glued to his.

Protectprotectprotectprotect.

He starts to move her off of him to stand, to get her to start moving to a safer, cleaner environment. As he does, her body begins to panic again, her grip tightening on him as a reaction. He huffs a soft laugh in response, as if he expected this and is trying to keep the tension light, “Come on, I gotta get up honey.”

She pushes her face into his chest, burying it there as she holds onto him again for comfort. Her body is shaking again, her breath coming in quick and shallow breaths as she begins to panic again, her grip tightening once more on his clothes.

He sighs, realising that there's no point in arguing with her, that she's going to want to cling onto him no matter what. So instead, he acknowledges her need and offers her the comfort of being carried, a way to move her away from the horror and trauma that she's just endured. He knows the answer is going to be yes, but he asks it anyway just to make her feel as though she has some sort of choice or say in the matter.

“Yeah, yeah, alright. Want me to carry you, sweetheart?” He asks, already knowing the answer.  

She nods into his chest.

Protectprotectprotectprotect.

“Can you let go for a second, so I can stand up.” As he speaks, he feels her shake her head, but he hushes her. “Just for a second sweetheart, I’ll be right here, I promise. Not going anywhere.”

He waits until she gives his question a slight nod, her grip loosening as he takes hold of her hand and gently moves her off of his body. She's still trembling slightly, but she's not holding onto him with the same intensity as she was before, and she allows him to help her stand up despite the fear.

“Come on, lift your legs, I got you.” He grunts, shifting her weight to a more favourable position as he picks her up, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist as she clings to him, her arms latching around his neck as she buries her face into his neck, wanting to feel as close as possible to him in her state of distress.

Protectprotectprotectprotect.

She's pressed tightly against him, her body clinging to him and moulding against his, and it takes every ounce of self-control in him to not think about the way she feels pressed against him. The way it feels right, the way it feels... like she belongs pressed so closely against him. Like this is where she should be, against him, in his arms.

The bed is just a few steps away, her bedroom door open as he walks through carefully, not wanting to disturb her space. When they get to the bed, he sets her down on top of the covers, making sure she's comfortable and secure. He wants her to feel as safe as possible after what just happened, and this is where she should be. Her bedroom, her bed, her safe space.

He looks down at her ripped socks, her blood-stained dress, and a frown spreads across his face. He kneels at her bedside and he feels her watching him carefully as he lifts her leg, placing her foot on his thigh as he begins to carefully remove her torn socks.

He places the socks on the bed beside her as he stands up, then nods towards her dress. "You should get changed."

She remains still, her eyes glued to his own, her face blank, emotionless. It's as though she's frozen in place, unable to respond to his words. He watches her closely, his eyes flicking between her unresponsiveness and the stained dress before he repeats himself.

Nothing.

He sighs with a nod. “Alright.”

He slowly moves his hands towards her, keeping his pace gentle and slow so she has ample time to respond or voice any objections to his actions. She remains quiet, her gaze locked onto his own.

He stands between her legs, the situation now mirroring back to what happened last night. This time it's not for fun, not for his own pleasure, not for anything except for necessity. He softly orders her to put her arms up.

She lifts her arms up and allows him to tug the stained dress up and over her head, the stained material sliding off of her. Once the dress has been removed, he folds it up and places it next to the socks before he looks back down at her, his gaze once more meeting hers.

He tells himself he’s checking for injuries as he looks further down her body.

Softsoftsoftsoft.

His eyes flick over to the other side of the room, to the neatly folded pyjamas on the chair, waiting for her. He takes them, placing them on the bed beside her.

She doesn’t move.

He takes her hand and gently tugs her to her feet. He kneels in front of her again, looking up at her as she stares back down at him, his gaze softening as he looks up at her and sees the adoration in her eyes.

Joel reaches for the pants, so soft in his calloused hands. His hand wraps around her ankle, helping her stand into her pants. Once both feet are in, he slowly pulls the material up her legs until the waistband sits snug on her waist.

His hands don’t linger, his thumb definitely doesn’t feel her soft skin like the night before. She doesn’t shiver under his touch.

Joel has always been too good at lying to himself.  

He stands, his hands still on her waist as he towers over her, a few inches taller than her. She's looking up at him as if she's mesmerized, fascinated, intrigued.

Smallsmallsmallsmall. 

His hands leave her as he guides her arms through the sleeves of her shirt, adjusting it and making sure it's sitting correctly before he turns his attention to her buttons.

He pulls each and every button through the little holes, closing the shirt around her form, keeping it away from his sinful eyes. His fingers fumble with the small and delicate buttons, frowning in concentration as he pulls each one through, paying extra attention and focus to making sure each one goes into the right hole.

He adjusts the collar, flattening it out and fitting it properly around her neck, ensuring that it sits softly and comfortably against her skin. His hands still on her shoulders as he gazes down at her. "There, all dressed." his voice soft and gentle.

He gently guides her back to the bed, easing her to sit down before she crawls into the middle of the bed, back against the pillows and stuffed animals surrounding her.

"I should probably leave, call the local police," Joel states, his voice soft and gentle. He averts his eyes away from her, turning to leave the room. 

“Please don’t leave me.”

Joel's heart aches as he hears her small and broken voice for the first time since the incident, that tiny little plea of hers for him not to leave her. He turns back, the guilt and sadness welling in his chest as he takes in her image, her state, and her desperate voice. Something inside of him breaking for just a moment as his gaze falls on every inch of her, from the blood-stained dress at the end of the bed, to the little stuffed animals surrounding her, to her broken and pleading voice.

“Yeah, I can stay sweetheart.”

Joel moves towards the desk chair, but she shakes her head, patting the spot beside her on the bed.

He sighs in defeat.

Joel sits at the end of the bed, untying his boots and leaving them on the floor as he stands. He tugs his shoulder harness and holster from his body, laying it on the chair before he moves once more back to the bed, to her.

He sits on the edge beside her before she tugs on his shirt, and he laughs at her impatience. “Alright, alright.” He laughs, giving in to her impatient tug upon his shirt, before moving to sit beside her on the bed, his back against the soft pillows and stuffed animals. He takes hold of her hand and gently squeezes it, the simple gesture meant to offer comfort and reassurance, to promise that he won't leave her side.

She moves quickly, moulding her body to his side, wrapping her leg around his and her arm around his torso as she buries her head against his chest. She settles there, cheek on his chest, pressing her body against him tightly. Her breathing slowly begins to return to a normal pace as she feels the comfort of his presence.

His hand settles back on her head, softly petting and playing with her hair as he speaks quietly to her, his voice soft and gentle. "You just needed a hug, huh?" he huffs, a soft chuckle in his voice as he speaks.

She tightens her hold on him as she closes her eyes.

Protectprotectprotect.

12:29pm

The detective slams the phone down, anger and frustration coursing through his body, before his eyes spot the closest thing to him, a glass cup. With a violent, explosive motion, he grasps the cup with his hand and hurls it across the room, glass shattering as it crashes against the wall. His hands then gripping tightly to the back of a chair as he leans over it, letting out a sound of frustration, as if he wants to destroy everything around him.

The local police were no help. He called them to inform them of the altercation, to explain what happened. They were very quick to agree to pick up the body but refused to cooperate any further.

He wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near the body after it gets transported to the morgue.

"Fuck this," he mutters to himself before stomping back up the steps to the crime scene. His anger is still at an all-time high, rage boiling up inside of him as he marches back up the stairs, intent on finding out more answers about what happened and why.

Mia’s body - thankfully - is still lying face down in her own blood.

He tugs his gloves over his hands, his anger still simmering. He carefully pushes Mia on her back, the body now exposed once more, giving him a full view. He takes in the sight, takes in the wounds and injuries that the victim had endured, both from himself and whatever attacked her last night. 

He notes the change in Mia’s hair, how it is now thinner, duller in colour and texture. How when he reaches up to touch it, clumps of hair fall out as though plucking strands of cotton candy. The changes in her appearance and condition clearly something that catches his attention.

How interesting.

Her skin, once a rosy and healthy shade, is now pale and sickly, as if all life and energy had been sucked out of it. The skin is also moulted and covered in lesions. The detective's face scrunches up in disgust as he touches the skin, feeling the texture and the condition of the flesh beneath his fingertips is enough to bring about his disgust.

It doesn’t feel human.  

He remembers the bruise that he saw on her shoulder this morning, but he didn't get a chance to take a closer look at it. Pushing the collar of the shirt aside shows the large animal bite. The bite itself is red and black in appearance, infected and inflamed, the flesh around the edge of the bite having rotted and turned black. 

He crouches down beside the body, his face twisting in even greater disgust as he leans in for a closer look at the rotting bite, hoping to gain more insight into what could have inflicted the injury and caused her to behave the way she did.

“Huh?” Joel huffs as he spots a tooth wedged into the bite.

“You shouldn’t be in here.”

Joel turns away from the body at the sound of Alexander's voice, the detective raising a curious eyebrow as he gazes over at the man. But he doesn't take his eyes off of the body for long, his gaze shifting back to the body of the victim as he turns his head to look back at Mia.

 “Neither should you.”

“Touché.” He shrugs as he moves to stand beside the detective. “What are you doing?”

"If you're going to just stand there and bother me, could you at least get me some tweezers?" the detective glares up at the man, demanding something to better occupy his busy hands. The man rolls his eyes before leaving the room, searching for tweezers to appease the detective. After a moment, he returns and hands him the tool.

"Wasn't so hard, was it," the detective murmurs, annoyance in his voice as he accepts the tweezers from Alexander. He leans back over the body, using the tweezers to ease the tooth from the bite, gently removing it.

“That’s fucking disgusting.” Alexander mutters, taking a couple steps back away from the detective, his body heaving from the sight as he reaches for the side of the wall, taking a deep breath before dry retching.

The detective ignores the man and his dramatics, instead bringing the tooth closer to his eyes, inspecting the tooth closely, inspecting the colour, the shape, the markings, and even the texture with the utmost attention.

How interesting.

A human tooth.

Click here for Chapter three

Notes

yall i went feral over this. JOEL DRESSING READER okay on a serious note, a first glance at what is haunting the manor and its surrounds! I really enjoyed writing this chapter - a lot - so i hope yall like it too!

If you want to be tagged, please comment on the masterlist for this series and I will add you. If you want to be taken off, please DM so i don't miss your request.

Every comment, like and reblog means the world to me. please let me know your thoughts about this, i want to ramble about this story so much.

tags: @jupiter-soups @lollabear

#joel miller #the last of us #joel tlou #joel fanfic #joel x reader #tlou #tlou joel #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfic #joel x you

[lichenes]

omg i LOVED ur perdrix fic! would love to see more with that man 💖💖

Thank you for the ask and I'm glad you enjoyed it anon!!

I'm always here to write for himmm. He has charmed me with his inability to be treated seriously by anyone. I adore this guy with my whole heart. I had this idea where he's awkward around others but flirty with you.

Pierre Perdrix x fem!reader

CW: confession, awkward Pierre, mentions of sex (nothing explicit tho), kinda spoilers for "Perdrix", SFW

wc: 611

_____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿_____

Pierre was sitting in front of the precinct, smoking a cigarette and attempting to make small talk with his colleague. "The weather is nice today." He engaged. "We haven't had rain in a while no?" The officer mused. He zoned out thinking about how he'd rather be at home with his family. He visibly cringed at the thought when-

"Pierre!!" You shouted out waving at him. He straightened his posture. "Oh," he said anxiously. "It's... you." You entered his line of vision sporting a pretty comfortable and relaxed look. "I'll leave you two to it, lovebirds." Said the officer whose name you didn't quite rember. "We're not..." he attempted to say.

He relaxed after the guy walked away and looked your way, noticing the way your, he presumed, new lipgloss was making your lips look more kissable than ever. Policeman's eye he supposed. "Well well well, look who isn't working." You said with a twinge of joke in your voice. He smiled at your attempt at flustering him.

"Weren't you supposed to look for a stolen car officer Perdrix?" You teased referencing his previous fiasco-affair with Juliette. You were there to experience all of the fallings in love and subsequent break ups he had with his past partners. You were there to help him through all of it. He remained oblivious through all your courting endeavours.

He always wasn't looking for anything serious or deciding he would remain single, conveniently exactly at the times you were planning on confessing to him. Once, you got more than intoxicated and subsequently hooked up with him confessing your love to him - mid thrust might I add. He claimed to not remember a single moment from the night before and apologised for leading you on.

How you stayed friends this long without you going insane was an enigma to the ones around you. Pierre was always unsure of his feelings towards you or rather, he knew exactly what they were - he was just denying them. He remembered every second of your inebriated lovemaking. In fact, he couldn't stop thinking about it ever since it happened.

He was sure you weren't interested and thought that your love confessions were fueled by alcohol alone. "You always call me officer, why is that?" Pierre asked cocking his head to the side and stubbing out his cigarette.

You looked like a deer caught in headlights when he asked you that question. "W-well uh..." you stammered. "Yeah?" He got closer to you and leaned downwards to be at your level. "Why is that?" He lowered his voice almost to a whisper and burst out laughing straightening his posture once again.

"Ughh..." you hid your face in your palms as he continued giggling. "Pierre I asked you to stop." "Stop what?" He questioned. It was now your turn to lower your voice. "To stop giving me ideas." He paused his chuckles at that.

"I told you time and time again, don't... don't give me hope." You looked him in the eye not afraid to face him with visible sadness behind your retinas. "Funny you mention that..." he retreated into his awkward self.

You were sitting on his sofa. "Remember when I let myself get hit by a car for her..." You nodded. "I'd do something even crazier for you." You snorted. "Crazier than being hit by a car? Voluntarily?" So all this time... he... he did love you? "Why did you get in all those flings then?" He shook his head. "Do you not understand why they never lasted?"

"It was you." He scooted over to you. Taking a hold of your trembling hands. "It has always been you."

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masterlist

#pierre perdrix x reader #x reader #pierre perdrix #perdrix #swann arlaud #the bare necessity

[seangelfish]

A/N: I was looking through the drafts of my old blog and found this perfectly written out fic, but it was never posted. So, here it is now! I want to write more Kanata fics since he's my first lover, so please keep a look out...! Anyway, enjoy!! ♡(>ᴗ•)

Dorm life

Kanata Shinkai x Reader ♡ Tags: Fluff, established relationship (with Kanata), romance, platonic relationships with Hiyori and Rinne, she/her pronouns ♡ Word count: 1,746 ♡ Synopsis: Kanata has invited you over for the first time! He’s really excited to have you around and so are his roommates. This is inspired by one of Hiyori’s idol stories: ‘How’s The Weather With All Three Together?’

“I’m home!” Hiyori called out, but no response was given.

He was confused as he was always greeted by someone when he came back from work.

“Is no one at home?” he questioned, reminding himself of his roommates’ announcements this morning. “No… there should be someone… Shall I try that again?”

Kanata looked up and finally said, “I can hear you, Mr. Sunshine~”

“Kanata?!” exclaimed Hiyori, startled. “Were you intentionally ignoring me?”

Kanata giggled, “Yes, I thought it would be ‘funny!’”

“I’d appreciate an immediate reply, you know!”

“Okay then, welcome back~”

Hiyori sighed, tossing his bag to the side. He wasn’t mad at Kanata or anything, in fact, his face was drawn with a smile. Kanata was so childlike and innocent, you just couldn’t help but smile along with him.

“Is that why (Y/N) likes you?” Hiyori muttered to himself, and thankfully, Kanata didn’t catch that.

Hiyori thought of you as one of your close friends, especially since you were so close with Eden due to your childhood friendship with Ibara. Hiyori always wanted the best for you. That’s why he was so curious about your relationship with Kanata the first time you mentioned him. Now that he’s roommates with him, Hiyori could finally see why you must like him so much.

Out of the blue, Rinne burst in with all laughs.

“I’m home!” he announced, smiling ear to ear.

Kanata smiled, “Welcome home~”

“Yes, welcome back,” beamed Hiyori. “Rinne-senpai, you seem really happy.”

“Yep, I did quite well today,” Rinne replied, and they both knew that he meant pachinko and not his idol activities. “I exchanged my winnings for a bunch of snacks. You guys can have some if you like.”

“Oh, then I’ll have a little bit of chocolate then,” said Hiyori.

“Hmm, no,” started Kanata. “But I’ll take the ‘dried sardine’ snacks since I’m full right now. Hehe, it’s free ‘calcium’.”

Suddenly, something caught his eye, and Kanata continued, “Ah, these are (Y/N)’s favourites! I’ll take these too then… She’ll be so happy~ Thank you, Mr. ‘Monarch.’”

Hiyori smiled at this and thought it was cute.

“Wow, so these are the snacks (Y/N) likes?” Rinne asked curiously. “Well, at least she has better taste than you, Kanacchi.”

Kanata pouted at this but decided to let it go anyway.

“Oh, yes…” Kanata began, looking at his two roommates. “I invited (Y/N) over. She’s supposed to be here by four.”

Kanata’s two roommates shot up from their positions in panic.

“What?!” cried Hiyori, eyeing the time which read half past three. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner? Rinne-senpai, go take a shower! Those types of places have that unruly smell that I do not like and (Y/N) probably doesn’t like it either! Kanata, clean up your mess too!”

“I’m on my way, Hiyori-chan!” said Rinne quickly, hurrying into the bathroom.

“Ah!” Kanata began.

“Kanata, what’s the matter?” Hiyori asked as he began to put away all their loose things, but Kanata didn’t need to answer as Rinne, who was in the shower, screamed:

“IT’S COLD AS BALLS!”

Kanata sighed, “I forgot that I was ‘bathing’ before the two of you came back…”

“So, you left the water temperature turned down again… Don’t I always tell you to turn it back up after you have a bath?” said Hiyori. “Also, could you sweep the floor?”

Kanata had picked up the dustpan and began sweeping the floor with a broom. “Again? That’s rude. It’s only the first time this week,” he replied.

“I just know (Y/N) tells you the same thing when you’re using her bathroom,” Hiyori retorted.

Kanata couldn’t help but chuckle at his friend’s statement because it was true. You would say that to him.

Rinne came back sneezing, clearly cold from his freezing shower.

“Man, I just went through hell,” he said with another sneeze.

“You certainly got back fast,” Hiyori acknowledged, “Can you please dust the place?”

“Aye, aye!”

Kanata was confused about why Hiyori was ordering them around. It’s not like Keito was doing a room inspection.

“Kanata, it’s because (Y/N)’s coming over,” Hiyori replied with Rinne agreeing. “You wouldn’t want her to see how messy our dorm is, do you?”

It wasn't that messy, but Kanata agreed anyway. “I guess you’re right. (Y/N) would appreciate that.”

So, the three of them continued to clean the place up until it was sparkling. The floors were spotless, beds were made and pillows fluffed, they even dusted the whole place so you could see your reflection in everything they owned.

Hiyori beamed proudly, “Phew! Well, that’s that!”

“Well done, everyone,” applauded Rinne before his eyes caught the weird object on his bed. “Woah, what the hell is this? Did some cryptic just take over my bed?”

Kanata laughed and corrected him, “It’s a ‘giant isopod’ from the AOUMI aquarium! You can use it as a pillow if you like. Hiyori didn’t like it, so I hope you can keep it.”

“Sure, I’ll take it,” said Rinne. “As a thanks, you can take as many of those snacks. But Kanacchi, shouldn’t you give these plushies to your girlfriend?”

“It’s okay~ I give her all of AOUMI’s new ‘releases’ before they’re even being sold!” Kanata answered happily. “She’ll always be the first person I will ever give ‘merch’ to!”

Hiyori was silent for a moment as he took Kanata’s words in. It just reminded him of the time you would talk about your boyfriend and how happy he made you feel. Hiyori couldn’t help but pinch his roommate’s cheek.

“Huh…? Mr. Sunshine, what was ‘that’ for?” Kanata asked, perplexed.

“Nothing,” Hiyori replied with a soft chuckle.

A knock was heard and Rinne, who was the closest one to the door, opened it. You appeared to them with a smile on your face.

Kanata’s whole demeanour brightened up even more as he ran over to you for a big hug. “(Y/N)!” he cheered, picking you up and twirling you around.

You couldn’t help but smile along with him. Your arms went around his neck as you laughed too. Hiyori and Rinne watched the two of you with a smile on each of their faces.

"Wow, your guys' dorm is pretty clean," you commented, observing the place.

You sat down on Kanata's bed, eyeing how cute his little space in the corner was. He had decorated the space with things that he liked, things that related to the ocean. You watched the small fish swim around the beautifully decorated tank that he had set up beside his bed, but you just couldn't help but eye the photos he had up above his bed frame.

"Yeah, we cleaned up the place before you got here," admitted Rinne. "Now you could praise us and tell us we did a good job!"

"You weren't supposed to tell her that, Rinne-senpai!" Hiyori hissed but backtracked anyway. "So... are you going to say anything?"

Their words went into your ear and out of the next. You were too focused on the photos Kanata had framed. The biggest photo on the wall was just of the sea, but the smaller frames held his most cherished memories.

Kanata couldn't keep his eyes off you, so he instantly noticed what you were staring at. He was on the floor, his head laid on your lap as you stroked his hair lovingly.

"Do you like it?" he asked as he hugged your waist tighter.

You smiled a bit. Your eyes were focused on a particular framed photo. Not of the photo of Kanata's big show with Ryuseitai or his photo with Kaoru and Souma at the aquarium, but of a photo of you and him that was taken by the sea far from Ensemble Square. In the photo, Kanata held both of your hands as if he was dancing with you on the beach; both of you with big smiles on your faces.

But you have never seen this photo before.

"Chiaki took it of us," answered Kanata despite the fact you haven't audibly questioned it yet. "It's my favourite one."

“It’s really cute,” you said as you continued to stroke his hair which he hummed in response. “Haha, you look so adorable in this photo!”

His roommates sat on their own beds, eyeing you two curiously. They were happy to see their friend be treated with so much love by you.

At this time, Rinne was using the giant isopod plushie as a pillow. You recognised the plush right away.

“Oh, did Kanata give you one too, Rinne?”

“You mean the cryptic?” he went. “Yeah, Kanacchi’s so cute like that, isn’t he?”

You giggled, “Yeah! He gave me one too! He always gives me plushies from his aquarium, he’s sweet like that.”

Hiyori couldn’t help but smile at this. Since he was one of your close friends, he couldn’t help but want the best for you, and that included romantic relationships. But now he knew that he didn’t need to worry about you anymore. Kanata was perfect for you, and he could see that you were happy with him.

“I originally gave it to Hiyori,” said Kanata. “But he didn’t want it. Is it really that scary?”

“It’s scary,” you, Rinne and Hiyori simultaneously replied.

Yet you continued, “But it’s cute in its own way.”

The three of you spent the rest of the time together playing games and watching a movie. You ended up cooking a meal to eat with them too. You didn’t want Kanata to cook, and you doubted that Hiyori or Rinne could cook either (considering the fact that Hiyori was a rich boy and Rinne was a monarch).

They applauded your cooking and you all ate together happily, just like a family. By the time you had to go, they begged you to stay.

“You’re always welcome here, (Y/N)!” cried Hiyori dramatically.

“If you ever just want to sleep over, just ask!” said Rinne. “Just don’t perform inappropriate activities with Kana—”

“Do not finish that sentence, Rinne-senpai.”

You and Kanata smiled at their childish antics. He kissed you goodnight as he held you in his arms.

“Goodnight, angelfish,” he said softly.

“Goodnight, my love.”

He watched you walk down the corridor as you waved him goodbye. Your dorm was on the second floor of the building, so you didn’t need him to walk you back.

“Well then,” started Rinne. “Time to go to sleep, Kanacchi.”

Kanata nodded, “Right!”

And when he went to sleep, all his dreams were about you.

Intro page | Ensemble Stars masterlist | Rules

#ensemble stars x reader #enstars x reader #ensemble stars #enstars #fanfic #x reader #kanata shinkai x reader #kanata shinkai x reader fluff #kanata shinkai fanfic #kanata shinkai x y/n #ryuseitai x reader #kanata shinkai

[be-my-ally]

Splashing Around

for the prompt "Quit splashin' me.”

can you tell i’m that annoying girl wanting to play mermaids in every pool?

Now, this is pretty much my first foray into writing early Elvis... it's very much a little fic with no background that is part of a larger story that is growing every day in my head, and also in my computer. It's also my first ever OC ever so please, bear with me with it + my suddenly terrible dialogue.

Silly as it might sound about an Elvis fanfiction, thank u to @whositmcwhatsit and @thatbanditqueen for cheerleading me to try the different style. and also, ofc, @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @missmaywemeetagain @from-memphis-with-love

wc: 3k

This is sweet and fluffy and boring but! I have another fic Wet Bikini which is, uhhh, just pure smut, with a similar 'fun in the pool' premise which I've linked in case anyone is missing the smutty sexy fun times.

c. July 16th 1957.

It’s surprisingly early when the phone rings, Louise’s parents having only just left for work, and she rushes to pick it up - hoping it would be the call she was waiting for. 

“Hey little Lou-Lou,” The familiar voice rings out, perfectly confident that it would be Louise who answered. 

“Hi, Elvis is that you?” She asked excitedly, perhaps a little stupidly she thought after, no-one else would call her little Lou-Lou. 

“Who else is callin’ you up?” She giggles in response and can hear the smile in his voice as he continues, “I’m at home darlin’, but I’m all alone - and it’s so hot today,  and I was just thinkin’ how maybe a ride on the Harley would cool me down,” he pauses while she takes a sharp breath in, was he - was he about to ask her to go for a ride? “And I was thinkin’ maybe you’d like to come with me?” 

“Oh yes, yes - of course!” She takes a second to collect herself, “That sounds like fun, yes Elvis, absolutely!” 

“Pack a swimsuit, hon, you’ll need it when we get back - I’ll pick you up in an hour.”  

“Ok - I’ll meet you outside.” She’s aiming for nonchalant but she thinks it might just be coming across breathless. 

“Alright darlin’ I’ll see you later - bye now.” He hangs up and Louise stands there for a moment, still clutching the receiver as she does an excited little hop in place. She hurriedly puts the phone back on the cradle and runs back up the stairs to her room - rushing to get herself ready. 

As she’s brushing out her curls, styling them as tightly as possible in preparation for the wind on the motorcycle - she’ll wear a scarf she decides, she considers if she should call any of the other girls. On the one hand, she already felt a little guilty, as if she was stealing him from under their noses, and she didn’t know of anyone else who had been picked out for a totally private date from the group. On the other, she somewhat selfishly wanted to be the only one who knew he’d asked just her. Besides, she thought to herself, it’ll only be for however long they were on the motorcycle for - by the time they get back to Graceland he’ll be surrounded by all the guys and girls. 

An hour and a half later and Louise can hear, out of her bedroom window, the unusual sound in their quiet dull suburb of the roar of the motorcycle. She hurries outside where he's waiting, assessing him for a second; He’s not really dressed for the occasion, a light jacket over top of what is clearly a sleeveless vest, and soft white trousers, silly little cap atop his head. But he is dressed for the weather, and as always, he looks good.  He pats the seat behind him. 

“Hop on then darlin’,” She doesn't have to be told twice, immediately clambering on behind him. She comfortably wraps her arms around Elvis, glad that this wasn’t the first time she was going for a ride.

“Where are we heading E?” She takes the chance before he starts the engine properly to talk to him. 

“I don’t know baby -  just around.” He pauses, “We won’t go far but isn’t it just nice to be out? Nice to spend the day with one of my favourite girls,” She grins against his back, thrilled to be given such a title. A second later Elvis is kicking the bike into action and tearing off down the street. 

It was a pretty drive as he somehow, amongst all his other skills seemed to have a knack for picking the best and least busy routes. Louise was enjoying herself, the scenery was pretty, Elvis felt solid and sturdy, and the breeze was helping to cool her down. Although, the burning engine underneath their legs, and the heat of the sun from above rapidly made it less effective. He pants a little jokingly when he pulls off the quiet country road a little way out of the city. 

“I don’t think this is working out huh?” She shakes her head against his back, 

“It’s too humid for it to help I think, it feels like I’m suffocating out here.” She can tell he’s suffering too, his shirt sticking to his back - damp patches clearly evident and hair curling on the nape of his neck. She’d been concerned at first - weren’t they meant to be wearing leather? Or helmets? Or something? But as the day warmed up even the thought of an extra layer, or of heavy plastic and metal on her head, was terrible. 

“Hang on then, hon, I’ll get us home.” He barely gives her enough time to regain her hold before he’s zipping off and away. His desire to just be home right now making him drive even faster than before, although from the way he lets out a little whoop every now and again he must also be enjoying the additional speed. 

Louise on the other hand, was terrified, he had to be going close to a 100mph and she could feel it in the way the air was whipping past them and in the way his turns were getting wider and wider on the corners. “Slow down El! You’re scarin’ me!” She shouts at his ear, he laughs, but nonetheless the speedometer (if she could see it) indicated he was slowing, albeit not by a lot. It’s under ten minutes before they’re zipping up to the newly-installed gates of Graceland. They’re waved through quickly, and Elvis doesn’t so much as park as much as he simply kills the engine just inside the carport. 

Louise climbs off the bike shakily, Elvis holding out a hand to help her balance. 

“You weren’t really scared were ya Lou?” 

“No, no, course not!” She shrugs her shoulders back, shaking off the last of the fear and undoing the headscarf from under her chin, pulling it down her shoulders. She can feel her hair stuck to the back of her neck from the sweat - probably formed by both the heat and the terror. 

“Good.” He steps towards her, fiddling with a now loose lock of hair, “Promised I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt ya didn’t I?” She nods back at him, almost shyly, as he tucks the wave back, resting his palm on her shoulder briefly before patting it and moving away. 

“It’s so hot out here, must be almost a hundred degrees today!” He wipes at his brow, over-exaggeratedly flicking it as if wiping away dripping sweat. Louise gives it the appropriately polite giggle, “The pool’s ready for action though, had them fix it up before we moved in.” He seems to forget she was in it only last week, “It’ll be nice to get in that water!” She nods in agreement, 

“Oh yeah! Is -“ She stops herself from asking who else was invited, that’s no-ones business but his. From where they’ve stopped in the carport she can’t see anyone else’s car but, as she well knows, that doesn’t mean there isn’t people in the house.  He doesn’t notice, instead gripping her hand and pulling her with him into the house. He rushes them up the stairs once they’re in, 

“C’mon you can get changed in the dressing room!” 

——

It’s hot and humid as hell and Louise is sure her hair’s already been wrecked by both the weather and the motorcycle ride, but still - she’d spent hours on it the night before, and taken such care to keep it looking as good as possible despite the conditions that as much as sinking into the cool water of the pool sounded like bliss - she was determined to keep her hair dry. 

So, she sits demurely on the edge of the pool, her legs dipped in, splashing her feet about and feeling her skin start to tan as she leans back while watching Elvis play and dive around. She’s been here before a few times, in the past couple of weeks since Elvis returned and moved in, with the others but never by herself - and while they typically spent much of their time watching him, gushing and gossiping, it felt far more intimate to be the only one around. The only one today to titter at his tight little black trunks, or the way that he still hasn’t learnt to remember to take his watch off until he’s already in the water. She smiles down at his grinning face when he swims a bit closer. 

“You having fun, E?” He nods, brushing his hair back off his forehead and looking shyly back down at the water, 

“Uh-huh, you gonna watch me dive?” She nods, happy to be his adoring audience for as long as he wants, until that is, his enthusiastic diving down causes a splash. He comes bobbing back up, a mischievous look at the sound of her shriek, intentionally moving closer and causing a wave to rise up and knock against her knees. “See if I can get the whole way across on my belly!” She laughs at his boyish behaviour, shaking her head fondly as he forces his body under the water. When he surfaces again he comes up with a splash that carries up and over onto her lap, the spray catching her chest.

“El- Stop it! You’re gonna get my hair wet! Quit splashin’ me!” He frowns, swimming closer to where she’s still sat, resting his elbows on the edge of the pool on either side of her legs. 

“Awh doll, ain’t no fun just watching me!” She nods as if to say actually yes it is, but he ignores her, “No-one around here but us, c’mon honey, come and have a splash around,” She shakes her head, protesting, 

“It took me hours -  and I have a busy d-“ Elvis interrupts, imploring her to join him,

“Oh c’mon - I’ll, I’ll help dry ya hair if it gets wet!” She looks down at him, considering it for a moment, but before she knows it his hands are sliding up under her thighs where she was sat. He digs his fingers in as he tries to wedge them under and around her legs, and she giggles in response - somehow he was getting her exactly where she was most ticklish just above and behind her knees - and she thrashes around a little, but is trapped by his hands and the pool.

“No Elvis! You stop that rig-ight now - oh stop it!” She manages to get out between bouts of shrieking laughter, “You’re gonna make me - you’re gonna make me pee myself! Or, or,” He doesn’t stop but instead he seems to dance his fingers around even more at the threat, laughing himself, “or, or make me fall -“ He grins in sheer delight, tickling her once more before gripping her thighs tightly and tugging. She falls in with a splash, clutching at his arms and wet, soft, chest. She comes bobbing back up to him, gasping a little at the shock of the submersion. 

“Oh for goodness’ sake Elvis. It’s gonna take me hours to reset this; I’ll charge you the bill from the salon.” She sounds exasperated but she is, nonetheless, smiling. He just looks back at her, blinking, cheeks swollen like a chipmunk. “Don’t you dare - don’t even thi-“ The water shoots out his mouth, arcing up into the air before splashing down between them, his cheeks deflating as she squeals, backing away from the spray. He laughs joyously - boyishly, the kind of irrepressible giggle small boys seem to have while chasing someone - gripping her to him and pulling her close. 

“You wanna be my little bitty baby dolphin?” He offers her his back, “Wrap your arms round my neck and climb on.” She sighs a little resignedly but still enthusiastically clambers around to wrap her legs around his middle, the water’s natural buoyancy helping her to stay up, holding onto his neck and shoulders. “Go on then, hold tight!” She nods, tucking her head into his back,

“I’m ready!” He dives under the water, travelling for as far as he could with one breath before bopping back up just long enough to take a deep breath in and diving back under. As childish as Louise would find it to admit or confide to anyone else, she does close her eyes, pretending to be a little dolphin on the back of it’s mother, feeling the way the water seems to stream past in a way distinct from if she herself was doing the swimming. They come back up for the second time, this time to the sound of her gentle, giggling, breathless laughter matched to his own. 

Elvis turns her in his arms, pulling her around to be facing him but keeps a hand on her thigh, holding her legs still hiked around his waist. His other wrapping around her middle, to rest his palm on her back. She leans into his hold, her arms still wrapped around his neck holding him close, their faces practically touching. She takes a moment to examines his face. It’s funny, in some ways you’d have expected that by her frequent proximity she would have gotten over her tummy flipping every time she noticed something tiny, like the start of a pimple on his jaw, or the way his pores lay on his nose and yet still she feels almost giddy with being this close. 

“You wanna…” She’s sure he’s about to say kiss, and her eyes fall closed in permission, but before she knows it he’s pushing her to the side, “wanna race?” By the time she’s even registered what he’s said she’s a second behind, and he’s already swimming ahead. Louise rushes forward, grabbing his ankle and tugging him back, 

“Hey! Where d’ya think you’re going! You’re such a little cheat!” He laughs as he goes with his foot, hopping back to end up close to her again. He shakes his head, vehemently denying her accusation, 

“No - No! I was just gettin’ into position! Gonna go from this end to that end.” He points down at the curve of the pool. She drops his ankle,

“Hmm, well, if you say so…. So from here then?” She swims to the spot indicated and he joins her, agreeing. She nods at him as she gets into position, “You can call it.” 

“Ok.” He takes a moment to get himself ready before calling, “Ok, on your marks! Get set! Go!” He shoots off from the wall, Louise trailing behind for a second before catching up to him pretty closely. She could see, as she hit the wall on the other end, him coming towards her but she was pretty certain it had been a tie. He’s doing a victory pose, arms up, his tummy out, fake crowd noises coming from his mouth, “I won!” She shakes her head at his bragging, 

 “Nu-uh! I totally won!” Elvis turns, hair flicking back, 

“No, darlin’.” She goes to protest again but he steps closer, backing her against the wall of the pool, his tone lowering - crooning,  “No, I’m pret-ty sure I won and, that means I get a prize.” Louise has no desire to do anything but agree, his arms crossing behind her, his wide palms spanning across the small of her back. She leans forward, it’s not like they haven’t kissed before, but it had always been a brief thank you, or a stolen moment - and her tummy is suddenly aflutter with butterflies at the knowledge they were by themselves, in no rush nor with any other eyes on them, 

“What do you want for your prize?” He looks at her, eyes bright with the fun of the games and the anticipation of what was to come He just shrugs, waiting for her suggestion. She bites her lip, looking sideways for a second, trying for bashful but perhaps just coming across a little shy. “Hmmm, how about a kiss?” His eyes crinkle as he smiles fondly at her, almost as though he found her offer of a prize endearing. Louise blushes, immediately, as soon as she meets his eyes after saying it and for a brief moment panics that he might refuse. 

“Oh, I think that’s exactly what I deserve.” She pulls him closer, arms winding around his neck again, and her legs coming up to wrap around his waist as he stumbles forward to support her back against the pool wall. Their lips meet and she can’t seem to stop herself from gasping a little at the contact, at the feel of his full lips catching hers between them and the distinct taste of the chlorinated water still clinging to his lips. She tries to act casual, like she’s unbothered by the way the privacy of the moment feels like a revelation or in the way he catches her lip in his teeth causing a warmth to spread from her hips and stomach. 

He brings a hand up to cup her face, thumb lightly brushing her face, but as he tries to brush it down further to her neck it gets stuck - his pinky ring snagging on her now limp wet strands of hair. For some reason even after getting himself untangled the heavy atmosphere remained and she arched her chest into him, mouth opening as he pressed his lips back against hers. It feels like pure sparks crackling in the air when they pull apart, the air seemingly thrumming with it. It only takes a second, however, for them both to realise it wasn't just in reaction to their kiss, as a sudden crack of thunder and accompanying downpour explains the atmospheric change - humidity suddenly breaking.

“C’mon!” Elvis grabs Louise’s hand and pulls her around to the steps of the pool, pushing her up them before climbing out himself. He bundles up their towels, grabbing her hand and dashing for cover. 

They both end up in the kitchen, dripping everywhere, and tripping over themselves,  laughing as hard as they can as lightning cracks overhead. 

#writing prompt game #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis x oc #elvis presley x oc #elvis fluff #1950s elvis #elvis smut #be-my-ally #50s elvis #elvis imagine

[overtrred28]

Stargirl | matildas x original character fic [part thirteen]

Words; 1.8k

Pairings; matildas team x astrid taylor (OC)

Warnings; swearing

A/N; Hi all. Hope you're enjoying this story. Just wanted to apologise for such a late update and a really short chapter but I started a second job and I've got less time to write so updates may take a little longer sorry. But I will try to keep it within two weeks of each other and write when I can so you guys can keep reading. Love you all xx

masterlist

The next morning after breakfast the team assembled for their pre match meeting where they would do last minute reviews of their opponents style of play, and plan their own around the starting lineup Tony was going to reveal. 

Astrid’s prediction from the night before was proved right when Kyra’s name appeared in the midfield, a smile donning both of their faces as Astrid lightly punched Kyra’s shoulder. The rest of the line up was almost the same as it always was but with Cortnee replacing Sam’s usual position as the left forward and Charli staying in that back right in replace of Ellie who was still out with her ACL injury.

Although Astrid had yet to be named again in the starting XI since that Phillipines game, the plan involved her coming on later in the game and continuing her super sub reputation. 

Arriving at Kingsmeadow again the energy was high and the team were ready for what was to come. They got ready and headed onto the pitch for the warm up, Astrid, Charli and Kyra trailing at the back of the group. 

“Will you three hurry up? Otherwise you’re not part of the rondos.” Alanna turned around, yelling at the three of them who were still slowly walking out of the tunnel. 

“How dare you!” Astrid dropped her mouth in shock, separating from her friends as she ran to join the team, rather ditching her friends than missing out on the only fun part of warm up. 

“Rude.” Charli called out as Kyra scoffed beside her, watching the youngest player run out of the tunnel to the team on the pitch, jogging to catch up behind her. 

Training like always was full of laughter and fun, slightly distracting them before the tough match but still focused on the drills ahead of them. When it began time to partner up, Astrid began walking towards Charli but was pulled away before she could even process what was happening. 

“You’re with me today, chicken.” Steph finally spoke as she walked with Astrid further away from the younger of the Matildas. Astrid was confused but not complaining as she had begun to form a stronger bond with Steph through these camps and over long distance while at clubs. 

“Cool with me.” Astrid shrugged her shoulders as they began their partnered drills and passing skills. 

“So, how’s Hammarby?” Steph asked, looking over at the younger player. 

“It’s really good, I think I’ve finally settled back into the team and the rhythm again.” Astrid smiled as she talked about her club. 

“That’s good. You always want to feel good at your club and comfortable in that environment.” Steph nodded at her, happy she was content in her current club and team. “What about Sweden though? How’s living there treating you?” 

“It’s fine, I’m glad I have Kyra and Nevs with me, and Charli not far away.” Astrid drifted off slightly and looked back up at Steph instead of the ball they were sending between each other.

“But?” Steph quizzed, looking her softly in the eye, Astrid pausing to think before responding.

“I don’t know. Something’s missing or off, I think. It’s just not what I’ve been used to, you know. Especially with a whole different language and customs and lifestyle; it’s just different.” Astrid shrugged casually. “But I’ll get used to it, and the weather.” She laughed with Steph who also missed the Australian sun whilst living away.

“It’ll get better, that feeling of being misplaced sorta. I promise.” Steph pulled Astrid into her side as they began to walk back to the group who were finishing up their warm ups as well.

They all returned to the locker room, changing from their training gear to their game jerseys, Astrid donning her 31 proudly as the subs exited the room, hyping up the starting line up as they went past. 

Courtney and Astrid sat beside each other on the bench as they waited for the match to start. The whistle blew and the ball was taken into quick and easy possession by the Australian side, keeping it close to them and weaving through the South Africa defence. A few chances were made within early minutes, almost getting Astrid out of her seat ready to celebrate, but it wasn’t till Steph took a corner at the fifth minute that she was able to. 

Steph struck with her left foot and the ball headed straight to Mary who attempted to head it in but struck the post, Cortnee saw it and quickly knocked it into the net, scoring her first international goal on the senior team. 

“YES VINEY!” Astrid screamed from the bench, cheering loudly as the players on the field celebrated Cortnee’s goal; Tony also cheering loudly from his place in the tactical box. 

And it wasn’t long until they were celebrating again, Cortnee knocking the ball into the net just 10 minutes later, bringing the Matildas to an easy 2-0 and getting herself a brace. Polkinghorn further advanced their lead just before halftime with a header from another one of Steph’s corners, letting the Matildas leave halftime 3-0 as they retreated down the tunnel. 

While the starting XI were having their halftime meeting with Tony, Astrid took this time to practise her shots with Macca and Courtney for a few minutes before the two younger players were called over to the bench again. They discussed the tactics again for the second half and when they were both going to come on to make a difference in the game, not that there was anything wrong with how it was panning out so far. 

The second half began with the kick from Vine, the Matildas once again taking quick possession and earning corners as they stayed down near the box. Caitlin was the one to give them their next goal, taking a long ball from Aivi to Steph and dancing around the defenders to send it to the right side of the net. 

Astrid and Courtney got up not long after that to warm up once again, running up and down the sidelines as they watched the game progress.

At 70 minutes the Australian side made three substitutions, taking off Steph, Caitlin and Charli and bringing on Courtney, Astrid and Larissa as their replacements; the three of them quickly settled into the rhythm of the game and added to the dynamics of the players on the field. 

Astrid came into the left forward position, slightly further up to where Caitlin had been playing before but somewhere she was more comfortable and was now working with Hayley and Larissa up front. It didn’t take long for Astrid to get her feet on the ball, running ahead of Chidiac who delivered it to her in open space and she slotted it past the South African goalkeeper into the bottom right corner. 

The team were thrilled with her contribution so early after coming on, bringing them to 5-0 at 75 minutes in; but it’s not like they were surprised, it’s what she’s known to do. 

Only 3 minutes later and the ball had landed at her feet just outside the box, but she was surrounded by defenders, all eagerly watching her feet to see where she might go. Astrid paused, lifting her eyes up to the defender in front of her before shifting it in the direction of Hayley who was free to the right of her. 

She moved her left foot, indicating to go right where her eyeline was, the defender turning over her left shoulder but Astrid quickly rolled the ball under her foot and went around her other shoulder. She could hear the defender groan as she tricked her, running closer to the goal, jumping over an outstretched leg from South Africa and continuing the ball towards the goal. Striking with her right foot hard, she aimed for top bins as the keeper bent down to block a low shot, missing it completely. 6-0 to Australia. 

The small Australian crowd who had gathered cheered and so did the girls as they surrounded Astrid who made her way to Kyra first like always. As they parted Kyra pointed to her mouthing, “You owe me lunch.” with a smirk. She was right so far; but so was Astrid as Kyra didn’t seem to be coming off anytime soon and they were inching closer and closer to full time. 

Chloe and Sam joined the field with only 7 minutes of regulation time remaining and just minutes after South Africa scored their first goal of the match in the 87th minute after a terrific lob from Hilda Magaia. 

Three minutes of injury time were given and Astrid was not ready to finish up, neither were any of the Matildas subs who felt like they had just begun to play. 

And with only 40 seconds of time remaining, Courtney delivered the ball to Kyra who then shot it up the field in the direction of Astrid who had made her way into the box, watching as the ball flew in the air. There were a few defenders closing in on her but she had plenty of space, jumping into the air and joining her head with the ball, steering it hard to her left and hoping the keeper was just away from her. 

She landed and looked into the net, finding the ball rolling on the ground and the net still rippling from the impact; she scored another goal and earned herself a hattrick for the first time on the international stage. A wide smile donned her face as she spotted Sam, Hayley and the rest of the team running towards her, screaming and cheering for the youngest player. 

It’s a late goal and a hattrick from number 31 Astrid Taylor, the 18 year old in her 8th appearance for the Matildas. 

Play resumed but not for long as the whistle blew and the game ended 7-1 to Australia, both teams immediately shaking hands with one another and their own teammates. Charli ran over to Astrid when she was free, almost tackling her to the ground. 

“Just casually scores a hattrick within the last like 20 minutes of the game. Are you even human?” Charli squeezed Astrid who laughed at her. 

“Fuck off.” Astrid playfully pushed her away as they began their victory lap, clapping to the crowd that had gathered for the match and waving to the Matildas fans. 

“You just had to be the only one right huh?” Kyra had caught up to Astrid who walked behind everyone else taking in the post-match feeling. 

“I guess I did.” Astrid casually shrugged her shoulders as she turned to Kyra with a smile. 

“I’m proud of you.” Kyra unexpectedly pulled Astrid into a hug but she quickly reciprocated. 

“Thank you, I’m proud of you too.” Astrid spoke as they parted, both with blushed cheeks and large smiles. “So,” They began walking again. “When are you taking me out for my free lunch?” 

to be continued....

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

#auswnt #kyra cooney cross #matildas #alanna kennedy #auswnt x reader #caitlin foord #charli grant #mackenzie arnold #sam kerr #steph catley #matildas x reader #cortnee vine #courtney nevin

[bandaged-writer]

𝗞𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗔 || 𝗗𝗔𝗭𝗔𝗜 𝗢𝗦𝗔𝗠𝗨

snippet of a fic i will never write (probably). got a little inspired by violet evergarden. if you liked it, consider a rb or comment.

kalopsia. the delusion of things being more beautiful than they are.

pairing. pm! dazai x f! reader

warnings. mentioned deaths/blood/violence, implied abuse from mori

words. 886

summary. "Oh dear. A maiden wants to love and be loved. But people like us are not meant for such a lovely thing."

Rain pitter patters against the lone window of Ango's office, drenching the rust-colored leaves residing on the pavement and trickling down the glass. Inside the office, a jazz tune hums from the radio and books are being placed into their respective shelves.

Despite the less than pleasant weather, Dazai Osamu, feared Port Mafia Executive and his friend Oda Sakunosuke, a low-ranking mafioso, decide to visit their dear friend Ango. The two friends chatter about this and that. An umbrella, drenching wet and meant to dry, is neatly placed in the corner just before Ango's office.

"Are you sure we can visit him so spontaneously?," Odasaku asks in his usual deadpan voice.

Nonchalantly, Dazai waves his hand and barges into the office. "Don't worry! Ango's schedule is free today. I checked."

Barely a step in, his peripheral catches sight of the hem of a dress and gloved slender fingers shoving a book into place. The face of a doll greets Dazai and for a moment, the infamous Demon Prodigy, is surprised.

"You two must be Dazai Osamu and Oda Sakunosuke. Ango mentioned that you would come." A light nod of your head and a polite tone is laced in your voice. "He is currently taking a break, but he should be back soon."

Dazai knows you. The Soldier Maiden, the Port Mafia likes to call you ever since the last conflict came to pass. An ability that gifts its owner with strength and resilience that surpasses that of any normal human being.

He, too, had watched you disarm and kill men, clearing the path for the Mafia's groups. One moment was all it took for your face to be engraved in Dazai's mind. The awfully breathtaking sight of your gaze locking with his, flames licking at the sky behind you while keeping the face of a doll.

At that moment, Dazai had been awestruck just as he currently is.

"Is there anything on my face?" You tilt your head.

Dazai blinks once, snaps back into reality. He had been staring. "Oh, no. I was merely wondering what our pretty Soldier Maiden was doing here."

As Odasaku takes a seat, he sighs. Not for one holy minute could his dear friend resist flirting or complimenting a woman. Much like a child fishing for attention that it never ever got; a sad comparison, but it's the first thought that crosses Odasaku's mind.

A viper chases its teeth into your neck and injects its poison called fear. Blood vessels constrict, run cold and your fingertips twitch at Dazai's words. Is he planning on dragging you back to the Boss's side? No, impossible. You left the front lines with Mori's permission, so not even his trustworthy right-hand man could change that, right?

"..I am no longer under his direct command. You cannot take me back," you express.

"You misunderstand. This wasn't my intention at all. It's mere curiosity," Dazai assures you and it appears to bring peace to your troubled mind.

The tension in your shoulders loosens and you continue placing Ango's books back into the shelves. "This is my revenge on Mori," you confess while Dazai is clinging to your side like glue.

Hazel eyes curiously scan the books before they land on your face. No sign of malice rests upon your skin and yet he can sense your dislike towards the Boss. Dazai can't say that he is wholeheartedly devoted to Mori, either. The only reason why he is in the Mafia is to find a reason to live amongst death.

"Now, now. You're becoming quite interesting, aren't you? How does this," he points at the books in your arms, "qualify as revenge?"

Your lips press against each other. "My dissatisfaction lies in the way he treats his subordinates. No one is allowed to rob others of their hopes and dreams," then, your voice is nothing but a pained whisper, "not even the Boss."

How many nights had you spent under his heel, collared to this organization like a stray dog? You can't count them anymore. All you know is how to execute orders, how to kill people and use that gift of yours for bloodshed.

But those books carry the letters of the deceased members. Never had they found home in their loved one's hands and all of them told stories of bloodshed, fear and death. Despite all that, they ended in heartfelt, three words.

I love you.

Just what do these words mean, you wonder.

"I guess even a Soldier Maiden is just a maiden in the end." Dazai smiles with his eyes closed. He, of all people, understands best how you ended up with such a strong distaste towards the Boss.

"Dazai?" Perhaps he is the wrong person to ask such a thing. But in this wretched organization, you have no one else to turn to besides Ango and the last time you had asked him, the poor man had flushed a deep red and even stumbled over his own words.

"Yes?," he says softly, takes one of the books and places it back into a spot high up on the shelf. A spot you can't reach.

"What is it that a girl wants?"

"Oh dear. A maiden wants to love and be loved. But people like us are not meant for such a lovely thing."

#bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #fic: kalopsia

[bellysoupset]

i had to drop something off to a friend today, so i walked 33 minutes in 80°f weather and it reminded me of last summer when i had an upper respiratory infection in July. the humidity + heat made breathing so hard and the chest pain was insane.. it was not fun at all

BUT.....

it then led me to think of vince. i believe you mentioned in one fic that his breathing still isn't right after his accident? anyway.. i'm not sure how medically accurate this is, but would you be able/willing to write a fic with vince getting an upper respiratory infection made worse due to his accident ??

Wendy rolled on the bed, letting out a happy sigh when her cheek met Vince's bicep. It was a rare morning when she woke up with him still in bed, so she opened a smile, throwing her leg over his hip and tangling it with his.

"Morning..." she yawned, even though it was still dark out and planting a kiss over his chest. She was ready to fall back asleep, when she felt Vince very delicately push her off of him. Wendy pouted, opening her eyes.

"Vin?"

"Sorry," his voice was still rough with sleep, "it's just so warm, honey."

She let out a scoff, throwing herself over him again and then reaching on the bedside table that was to his side. She pulled the drawer open and clicked on the A/C button, still half asleep, before letting out a content sigh and snuggling against him again.

Vince chuckled, the laughter rumbling in his chest, "okay, then we can cuddle. Just an hour though."

"Skip gym today," Wendy mumbled, kissing his neck, "just today."

"I can't, honey, we have a game this weekend. I can't slack off now," his hand roamed her back, getting under her cute matching set, rough fingers tracing her spine, "go back to sleep."

She let out a whine, but didn't pull back, allowing Vin to lull her back to sleep easily. A handful of minutes later and he felt Wendy's weight drop on him, her breathing turning deep.

Her alarm only rung at eight, by that hour he was already out of the gym and into his first class. Vince kissed the top of her head, very carefully unhooking his girlfriend from him when his alarm tried to ring at 6:00

The sun was out now and it was high. It was rare the day their town got so warm, but today was shaping up to be one of those hellish days.

Luke was already in the gym by the time Vince arrived.

Everything was harder in such a warm day and Vince's head was throbbing by the time he was done with all sets and he felt vaguely queasy, all his limbs so heavy. Lucas thumped his back, his face ablaze from exertion.

"I'm starving," he said, shoving Vin towards the gym bathroom, "hurry up so we can get the good breakfast."

The Good Breakfast, as Lucas called it, was getting to the university cafeteria before they ran out of hot bacon and sausages. They couldn't get to it most days and normally their positions were switches, Luke whining about still having a stomachache from his binge the night before and Vince starved, but not today.

Today Vince sluggishly munched on bacon, resting his forehead on his hand and listening fondly as Luke prattled on and on, with no signs of stopping. He was besides himself with being married, which was adorable, and Vince noticed just how Lucas was gesturing twice as much as he normally did, as if he was subconsciously showing off his white gold ring.

"You're quiet today," Luke pointed out, finally, as they walked to class together. Vince shrugged.

"Still asleep, I think," he said and didn't even pretend when the line was followed by a yawn. He so wished he was back in bed.

Throughout the day, everything got worse. His headache, which he expected to vanish, especially since he had taken tylenol after breakfast, continued on. If anything it only got worse. His throat started to scratch up, but the worse of all was how his chest felt.

It was as if someone was sitting on his chest.

"Hey handsome," Wendy said, reaching him from behind, cupping his ass and he let out a chuckle.

"We're in public, Wen," he lazily raised an arm to allow her to hug him from the side, leaning in to kiss her and Wendy beamed.

"Yeah yeah, but you looked too hot, couldn't resist," she kissed him again, then frowned, "Vin... You're super clammy, are you feeling alright?"

"Yep," Vince tugged on the front of his shirt, "it's so fucking warm, I feel like I'm cooking inside out."

Wendy raised her eyebrows, then patted his thigh, "crouch down."

He obeyed and then opened a smile when she grabbed the pink scrunchie from her hair and used it to tie his in a knot on the base of his neck, "better?"

"Much," Vince let out a sigh of relief, "pick wherever you wanna have lunch, I'm not really hungry."

Wendy squinted at him, but she said nothing, taking his hand in hers as they strolled down the street. They always had lunch in one of the many restaurants that were conveniently placed on the block right next to campus. It was close enough to Vince's work he didn't need to get his bike and close enough to the hospital that Wendy could just walk back there too.

"Is Luke joining us?"

"Please," Vince rolled his eyes, then cleared his throat when his voice failed him. He coughed twice, forcing his voice up, "as if he'll waste any minute he can spend with Bell. I swear he's driving three times more often now."

"Honeymoon period," Wendy teased, leaning against his arm, "I heard a biker club might be passing through town tomorrow. Have you ever thought of joining one?"

Vince raised an eyebrow, scoffing, "do I look like I belong in a gang?"

"Do you want me to answer that honestly?" his girlfriend teased him, walking backwards so she could look him in the eyes and poke his tummy, "they're not all gangs, I just thought you might enjoy it. Now that your bike is fixed back up."

"Absolutely not," Vince cleared his throat again, now grimacing when it caused him to cough. He raised a hand in front of his mouth, turning away from Wendy and hoped it'd clear up soon enough.

It took him a moment and when the coughing tapered off, the world seemed a little fuzzy. Wen's hands were on his shoulders since he had bent down and she looked terrible worried.

"Vince? Jesus, I thought you said you weren't feeling sick-" she cupped his face and Vince shook his head.

"I'm not," he rubbed his chest, "It's just an annoying tickle in my throat, I'm feeling fine."

It wasn't exactly true, he was feeling pretty run down, but he blamed the majority of it on the fucking heat. He was not dressed for this weather. Hell, he was not shaved enough for this weather, everything just felt horrible, sticking to him.

"I'm not sure I believe you," Wendy said, planting her hand to his forehead, "I can't tell if you have a fever, you're warm all over."

"Yeah, it's a million degrees here," Vince rolled his eyes, taking her hand off his forehead and intertwining their fingers, "just pick a place already, Wen, I need to be inside with a/c."

She picked an indian restaurant in the end and Vince spent the majority of the time just sipping iced water. It was wonderful to his headache, not so much to his throat. Wendy pushed and prodded, even using a low blow such as "I thought you were bulking for the weekend game" to try and get him to eat, but all Vin's queasy stomach allowed him to do was much on some naan.

"Don't you wanna call in sick and get some rest, Vin?" Wendy pouted, as they walked out the restaurant and the heat hit him right in the face, causing Vince to groan.

"No, Troy is a sweetheart, but not that much of a sweetie," Vince pulled on his hair, using her scrunchie to tie it all up in a ponytail, then rubbing his neck. It felt stiff, already wet with sweat, "I promise I'll be fine, honey. I'll see you later, you're gonna watch the practice?"

"I'm not sure, I'll try to," Wendy frowned, pressing her cold hands to his cheek, "let it be noted it's my doctor orders for you to go home and get some sleep. You look terrible."

"You know I can never be assed to follow doctor orders," he kissed the inside of her wrist, "see you."

He knew she wasn't exaggerating about how terrible he looked, because for once the little kids he was guiding around left him alone. Normally Vince was a kid magnet and he always ended up with a snotty six year old clinging to his shirt or hugging his leg or even climbing him like he was part of the exhibition. Not today, they seemed almost scared of him.

"You look like a corpse," Troy mentioned, once he finished the second tour of the day, "very on theme with the exhibition."

"Thanks," Vince rasped out. After three hours of speaking, his voice was gone, barely above a whisper. Troy frowned.

"Vincenzo" he tapped his pen against his notepad, "you know we have covid norms in place, right? At the very least wear a mask."

"I'm not sick," Vince whispered, shaking his head, "it's just my voice and the heat," he gestured around, although the museum did have a/c. Granted, all the flipping of temperatures might've just aided his voice vanishing, "I feel fine."

"Remind me what's your job again?" Troy said and when Vince opened his mouth to answer, he interrupted, "yes, yes, guiding the visitations. How do you plan on doing that without a voice?"

Vince pouted, "it's gonna come back, just give me a mi-"

"Go home," his boss rolled his eyes, "get out of here and only come back when you have a mask and a voice."

Vin let out a groan, getting up from the bench where he was taking his break and nodding, "fine," he attempted to snap, but what truly came out was a soft spoken whisper that sounded obedient, not sarcastic.

It wasn't that he didn't want to go back to bed and rest, he just couldn't afford the luxury of wasting his sick days on something silly like a little irritated throat.

He didn't go back home. It was only two hours for football practice, so instead Vince went to the field and started working on his essays due. At least that meant more free time later. He was graduating that year, so as a veteran he had less classes, but many more obligations.

Vince got sucked in his writing, so much so he didn't notice the temperature dropping or how many times he was coughing every ten minutes. How much his chest hurt.

He put down his phone, squinting at the screen and regretting not bringing his laptop. He never carried it around, it was neatly tucked away in his dorm, sometimes in Wen's place (well, most times nowadays), but today he really regretted it. His headache was back with full force, neck stiff from being hunched over the small screen for so long.

He had even attempted to use speech to text to write the essay, but his accent was too thick - it wasn't, really - for the dumb little app to understand him.

"Oh you're here early," Spencer smiled, walking closer, "sup?"

"Sup," Vince attempted to respond, but all that this managed was to make him cough. This time the coughs went on for long enough he thought he was going to pass out, grabbing on the bleachers to steady himself.

Spencer sounded truly worried once Vince zoned back in, holding him by arm, "Vin!? Vin, are you okay?! That didn't sound good, you shouldn't be here-"

"-m'fine," he whispered, waving the man off, "just a bad throat."

"What?"

"I said I'm fine," Vince forced the words up, immediately cringing when the act of forcing his voice caused his stomach to clench. He gulped down the taste of acid and rubbed his chest, "it's just a sore throat."

"Sounds like way more than a sore throat," Spencer pouted, "I don't know man... I'm telling Luke."

"Lucas'not my dad," Vince scoffed, frowning back at him, "I'm fine."

Clearly Spencer didn't agree at all. He stood around like a worried mother until they went to the locker rooms and even then kept sending Vince worried glances.

"Why is Spencer staring at you?" Lucas asked, sitting on the bench while lacing up his shoes, vibrating with energy. Sometimes Vince wondered where did his best friend get so much energy, he was like a stir crazy puppy.

Vin shrugged, glaring at his teammate when Luke bent over to put on the other shoe.

By the time they got in the field, Vin was really starting to regret his choices. Despite the incredibly warm day, it was a chilly night now that the sun had set and violent shivers kept running up his spine. His stomach was feeling even more uneasy, head a little woozy after barely eating all day.

"Alright guys, warm-up drills!" Coach Eric yelled, blowing his whistle, "two sets of high knee runs, back and forth!" he pointed the two opposite ends of the field, "go!"

Normally he could do this in his sleep. Not tonight, by the time Vince reached the first point of the field, his head was swimming. He knew his form was all wrong, he was hunched on himself, struggling to breathe and trying not to cough.

Vaguely he heard another whistle, then the coach yelling, "Monacelli put your back into it! What the fuck are you doing with your arms?!"

He tried, he really tried to fix up his form, but just attempting to stand straight sent him in a coughing fit, black dots swimming in his vision. Vince stopped running altogether, bracing against his knees, as the ground seemed to catapult under him. He couldn't breathe.

"VIN!?" Lucas voice was clear to hear, although he couldn't see him at all. Vince's hand, the one not currently squeezing at his chest, darted out and he grabbed Luke's uniform, bunching it up in his fist.

Every attempt to suck in air was fruitless as he continued to cough, blood singing in his ear. The coughs were so deep they turned into gags and Vince tried to swallow against the onslaught of nausea, but it was to no avail as he heaved on the grass.

Vomit rocketed up his throat and for a second he felt like he was drowning, the hand that was on Luke's uniform reaching in to grab more anything to help with the panic, but then his airways cleared and oxygen suddenly flooded his brain, making Vince twice as woozy as before.

He fell back, meeting sturdy arms and then green eyes were before his. Not Lucas', but Wendy's.

"Is he having a heart attack!?" Luke's voice filtered in, from behind him and Wendy shook her head, her hands planted on Vince's cheeks, fingers trailing down to his neck and pressing on his pulse.

"No, his heart is hammering away, but steady," her voice was firm, not panicked. Sweet. Doctor voice, none of his girlfriend there, "Vince, hey," she patted his cheek, "can you understand me? Don't try to speak, just nod."

He nodded, swallowing back down another gag when puke rushed up his throat, stomach churning now that the adrenaline was fading. He could tell they were surrounded, but his eyes were heavy, focused just on her.

"Is your chest hurting?"

He nodded again and Lucas let out a whimper behind him.

"He's having a heart attack," he diagnosed, grabbing Vince's arm, "where the fuck are the first responders?!"

"Lucas, stop," Wendy glared at him, "Vin, is this a sharp place like a stab?"

He shook his head and she opened a relieved smile, planting her hands on his chest, "like a pressure?"

He nodded, hearing Lucas say "what does this mean? Is this a heart attack?"

"He's not having a heart attack, Lucas!" Wendy snapped at him, then looked up, over her shoulder, "coach can you trade places with Luke-"

"I'm not going anywhere!" Lucas mouthed off, voice booming right next to his ear and Vince let out a groan, leaning forward on the grass, then gagging again.

"Shhh, breathe in, you're too worked up," Wendy was the picture of calm, rubbing his arm up and down, "through your nose, Vin."

He groaned, but obeyed and then leaned in, resting his forehead to her shoulder. Wendy nearly went back with his weight, but someone was right behind her.

It seemed like he had blinked and then the first responders were with them, although Vince knew that wasn't the case. It took exactly 6 minutes to get the ambulance from the hospital to the field. He didn't think he needed an ambulance, but Vince was too tired to argue anything and the oxygen mask pressed to his mouth and nose did feel incredible.

Wendy climbed in with him, being promptly squished to the side when Lucas mouthed off someone and sat right next to her. She rolled her eyes, leaning in and taking Vince's hand in hers, kissing his knuckles, "your boyfriend is such a worrywart, honey."

Vince opened a tired smile, he knew the teasing was for his benefit, no one else's. So he wouldn't panic.

"I'm fine," he mouthed, behind the mask and Lucas let out a scoff, while Wendy nodded.

"I know you are, but we're gonna get some x-rays just to make sure, okay?" she pushed his hair back, nails scratching his scalp and he closed his eyes, hearing as Lucas started to quickly whisper something with Wendy.

When he opened his eyes again, they had already moved him inside the hospital. Wendy was talking with a doctor, a couple feet away and Lucas was sat right next to him. He was still wearing the oxygen mask.

"You're awake!" Luke opened a bright smile. Vince tiredly gestured to the mask and his friend shook his head, "no, keep that in place. Your oxygen levels were dangerously low."

Vin let out a groan and Lucas rolled his eyes, "don't you dare say you're fine. They're gonna take you to x-ray now... Does something hurt?"

He shook his head no, before gesturing to his chest and throat and shaking his hand side to side.

"From one to ten, how much does it hurt?" Wendy asked, walking closer and Vince thought about it for a second, before raising four fingers.

She raised her eyebrows, "so an eight. Goddammit, Vince. Okay, I need your nonna's cross, honey."

He frowned at her, recoiling in the chair he was lying. Wendy sighed, "I'll keep it safe, I promise. I'll be there with you, so the cross will be there too, okay?"

Vince thought about it for a second, before nodding and leaning his head so his girlfriend could remove his necklace. She put it on, around her neck and opened a smile, patting it down, "see? All safe."

Then she turned to Lucas, "how about you go home and I'll call as soon as the results are out, Luke? He's probably not gonna stay overnight."

"And you intend on carrying him how?" Lucas scoffed, crossing his arms, "you and what army?"

Wendy cringed, "I'm not trying to get rid of you, I'm trying to help-"

"I'm not going anywhere," the other man said, voice cold like steel, "unless Vince asks me to go away, I'm not leaving."

Vince rolled his eyes, flicking Luke's ear. He grabbed the mask and pulled it off his face, causing both Wendy and Luke to let out a shout, "stop, both of you. Let him stay, he's right. You can't hold me up, Wendy."

It took all of him to rasp that out and Vince put the mask back in place, immediately coughing again and wiping the smug smile off of Luke's face.

It seemed like it took all night, with him wheezing at every step or order, but what in reality was only two hours before Wendy was allowed to bring him home.

"You're so grabby," Vin whispered, when Lucas helped him inside Wendy's apartment, with his girlfriend guiding the way and moving the furniture out of the way so the two men could pass. It was much easier to speak now that he was drugged up, his mouth, throat and chest feeling numb thanks to the painkillers put in the nebulizer.

"Shush it," Luke manhandled him to the bedroom, panting as he managed to get Vince sitting down, "you're so heavy, fucking hell. It's a miracle you haven't crushed Wendy in her sleep yet."

Wendy let out a giggle, climbing in the bed to fix the pillows and then she helped Luke lie him down against it, despite Vince saying "I can do it" over and over.

"I'm stopping by tomorrow with our class notes," Lucas said, lingering at the doorway of the bedroom, "and just text me if you need anything from the dorms, is on my way."

"It's not really," Vince rolled his eyes, trying not to laugh as he noticed his friend seemed unable to leave. He was sure that if Wendy let him, Luke was about to crawl in the bed with them like a toddler scared of the dark, "go home, Luke."

"You text me, then," Lucas ignored him, turning to Wendy, "anything you need."

"Actually," Wendy smiled, planting a kiss on top of Vince's curls, pulling them from the scrunchie he was still wearing, "can you sit with him for a minute? I just need to run to the kitchen, get some things sorted."

Vince opened an amused smile, she was so transparent. If Lucas noticed, he was shameless enough not to comment, as he perked up and nodded eagerly, sitting on the foot of the bed, "of course, take your time."

"Thanks Luke," Wendy squeezed his shoulder as she got up, winking at Vin on her way out. He was sure she was going to the balcony to smoke.

"C'mere," Vince whispered, gesturing for Lucas to move closer, "you're freaking me out. Calm down."

"I'm freaking you out? Your lips turned blue, you can't- Shut up forever okay? Just shut up," Luke scoffed, moving on the bed so he could sit closer, "if you people could stop dying on my watch, it'd be great."

Vince let out a snort, closing his eyes lazily, "it keeps you on your toes."

"I said shut up forever," Lucas repeated, flicking at his forehead and Vince slapped his hand away with a chuckle.

#mywriting #sickfic #chest infection #pneumonia #vince monacelli

[blood-darkened-moon]

Isolation

Ok, the first chapter of my Alexia Ashford fic. Again, I would appreciate short reviews on whether it is worth continuing or not. I'm not mad if you say it sucks. I just want an honest opinion.

______________________________________________

Chapter 1

December 12

What do you actually write in a diary? I guess I just write whatever comes into my mind.

My name is Samantha Blair, and I’ve been stationed at the Aurora Research Facility for about a month now. This place will be my home for roughly the next 11 months. I graduated two years ago with a PhD in chemistry. This is my new job. It wasn’t easy to get it. After all, there are only a few positions available in this facility. There are 12 of us in total, and my job is to analyze ice and soil samples. It’s summer here at the moment. The sun doesn’t set this close to the South Pole any more, and at night it only gets a bit dusky, which, admittedly, bothers me more than I thought it would. Doug* gave me this journal “so I won’t lose track of time.” I wonder if that will help. At least I can try.

*Douglas Garry, station leader

December 13

Nothing interesting. After breakfast, I set about sorting the samples from the last research team and finding out which of them still needed to be analyzed and which didn’t. So the same thing I’ve been doing for over a week now. What were they thinking? “We’ll be gone soon anyway, let the next team take care of it?” After me, the deluge. Typical. Half of the samples are not properly labeled, and even for those that are, it takes forever to find out what has already been done with them. It’s all in the lab books, my ass. I can hardly do anything with the cryptic notes there if I manage to decipher the handwriting at all. On top of that, I have to pick the measurement data out of disorganized piles of paper. It was all planned differently. They were actually supposed to measure their own stuff, but towards the end of their stay, one device after another broke down. The devices are working again. Now, we’re supposed to carry out these measurements first and send them the results.

December 14

Sorting samples, searching for corresponding measurement data. Nothing new. Jeff gave me a new drill core. At least I was able to take a few measurements today.

*Jeffrey Norris, geologist

December 15

As I was going about my usual business, John* arrived and said that we were going to be hit by a heavy snowstorm in the next few days. According to the weather data, the storm will last for several days, maybe even weeks. We have to prepare the station. So we spent the whole day outside moving equipment into storage rooms or fixating it. I’m still freezing.

*John Bennings, meteorologist

December 16

Dark clouds have gathered. After so many days of sunshine, the darkness, if you can call it that, is a welcome change.

December 17

It’s been snowing since last night, and the snowfall is getting heavier, although it will be another 2-3 days before it really starts. David* expressed concerns about the dogs, but Marcus** said they don’t mind the little bit of snow. Quite the opposite. Huskies love this weather. Marcus looks after the dogs. He will know best. When I think about it, it occurs to me that we are probably one of the only stations left that still uses dog sleds. We also have snowmobiles, but Marcus always says the dogs are more reliable.

Later, we decided who should clear the paths and when. The work should continue if possible. However, if the storm gets too bad, the research buildings will remain closed until it subsides.

*David Palmer, technical chief

**Marcus Clark, responsible for the dogs, thermal engineering, welding work

December 18

The howling of the wind gets stronger and stronger. Eerie. I have hardly slept a wink. At least I’m slowly making progress with the samples.

December 19

I spent half the day clearing paths. It is a Sisyphean task. As soon as I was finished, I had to start all over because everything was covered in snow again. And the worst is yet to come. If it goes on like this, I can forget about work for a while.

December 20

Jeff was on clearing duty today. He also said there was no point. After dinner, we agreed that we would only clear the paths to the important buildings, everything else would have to wait until the storm subsided. At least the dogs are having fun. And Lena. She built a giant snowman. Lena Fuchs is still a student and the youngest of our team, and you can tell. When I see her so carefree, I sometimes think I’m getting old...

The fact that Lena is here is not a matter of course. Normally, students are not accepted for research stays. However, Lena has excellent grades, so she was selected regardless of the usual rules. At least, that’s the official reason. For those who believe it. Her father just happens to have a lot of political influence and a ton of money. It would be a true miracle if he hadn’t set the whole thing up.

She’s supposed to help me with the measurements, but that will have to wait until the samples are sorted and the storm calmed down. In the first few weeks, however, I had already shown her how to operate the measurement devices. To pass the time, I’ve now given her a pile of papers to read.

December 21

We have a visitor. The last thing you expect at the South Pole in the middle of a snowstorm is a visitor. Her name is Veronica Edwards. She is British and works at the Umbrella facility nearby. She says she is a senior researcher. There’s been a virus outbreak. She hasn’t said what kind of virus it is, only that it’s not airborne and that the likelihood of her being infected is low. In general, she kept a rather low profile. However, she said that under the circumstances she cannot stay in the Umbrella facility. If she is infected with something, we can’t let her roam around freely, but not helping her is not an option either, so we put her in quarantine. Actually, that was her suggestion. Isaac* has prepared a room in the northeast storage building for the purpose. She waited in the snowmobile she came in. The building is quite large, and it also has a shower room and restrooms. Additionally, the supply in the northeastern storage building is largely separated from the other buildings, and we can lock an area from the outside. That could work. It was supposed to be modified into another research building this summer, but the modification has been postponed for another year or so. However, it has already been largely emptied. She said two weeks of quarantine would be enough. For the time being, only Isaac and Harry** will look after her. Isaac is our doctor. Harry has volunteered. They will stay away from the rest of us to minimize the risk of a virus outbreak during that time. In case of an emergency, they have walkie-talkies.

We have offered to contact Umbrella and tell them what happened, but Dr. Edwards said she had done that before she left the Umbrella facility. They’ll send people as soon as the storm subsides. If they’re taking so long, that must mean it’s not that bad, right? Or that it’s already too late, and there’s nothing they can do anyway. Shit. We’re not prepared for incidents like this.

* Dr. Isaac Copper physician, and by necessity veterinarian

** Harold Childs vehicle mechanic

December 21 Addendum I

I have to distract myself from the thought that the woman might have infected us all with some deadly virus. And I forgot to write that our new arrival is rather strange. She was at least wearing a jacket, but underneath, she had only put on a long purple dress, high-heeled shoes, and white velvet gloves. The clothes looked anything but cheap. She looked more like she wanted to go to a gala than work in a research laboratory. Who walks around like that in Antarctica? Well, maybe she wasn’t on duty when the outbreak happened. That would also explain why she managed to escape and, according to her own statement, is probably not infected. But even as casual wear, her outfit looks pretty bizarre in a place like this.

She had to wait quite a long time in the snowmobile until the provisional quarantine was ready. Wasn’t she cold in her thin clothes? She didn’t complain. And I couldn’t see any signs that she was freezing either. Admittedly, I kept a safe distance. Speaking of snowmobiles, judging by the tracks, she was driving as if she was drunk and almost crashed into one of the buildings. Can she just not drive, or are these signs that she’s not feeling well? A fever, perhaps?

Also, I remembered Doug mentioning in the first or second week that Umbrella isn’t even doing research at the facility anymore. It’s supposed to be a materials storage facility or something like that. Well, Dr. Edwards claims she is a researcher there. I’ll ask Doug about the facility again when I get a chance.

December 21 Addendum II

Nicky*** wanted to contact AAD and ask how we should proceed with Dr. Edwards. However, due to the storm, there is currently no way through with our communication system. Always at the best possible time, of course! At least it’s not broken. Nicky has checked it. In a few days, the storm should ease a little, although not stop. She’ll try again then. Until then, we’re on our own. As old as the communication system is, I’m not surprised that it doesn’t work currently. It probably dates back to when the station was founded in the 70s.

***Nicole Windows, telecommunications, electronics, computers

AAD = Australian Antarctic Division

#resident evil #alexia ashford #🩸🌙 #fanfic

[baronessblixen]

hey, do you think you can write a fic in which Frohike shows Mulder the pics he took of Sxully in EBE? Thanks and Happy New Year!

Set after "All Souls" (the episode isn't really mentioned). Mulder and Frohike have a conversation.

Fictober Day 20 | Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2022 | Wc: 1,130

The Truth Is Plain To See

“Who is it?” A voice barks.

“Frohike, open the door. It’s me, Mulder.” He jumps around, trying to stay warm, and holds his face into the camera, showing his teeth.

“You look like a steaming ghost,” his friend says as he opens the door. Mulder blows air into his bare hands, stepping inside.

“It’s colder than I thought it would be.”

“You went running in this weather?” Frohike asks, handing Mulder a warm mug of something without him having to ask. He smells it first, knowing you can never be too careful with the Gunmen. He loves his friends, but it wouldn’t be the first time one of them accidentally drugged him. Convinced it’s just peppermint tea, he takes a sip and cherishes the warmth that spreads through his chilly body.

“It’s true what they say,” Frohike continues. “You are crazy.”

“Where are Byers and Langly?”

“Out.”

“Without you?” Mulder asks, sitting down. He cradles the mug in his hands, hoping to warm up before his friend throws him out. Judging by Frohike’s expression, it won’t be long now.

“They’re picking up food,” Frohike says, throwing a fleece blanket at Mulder. “There was some hiccup with security last time. What brings you here?”

He could lie and pretend there’s a reason other than him forgetting the time on his run and finding himself closer to the Gunmen than his own home, half frozen.

“I needed to get warm.”

“At least you’re honest,” Frohike says, holding up his own mug in a salute. “Did you have a fight with the Missus?”

Mulder glares at him. Frohike can’t know how close he is to the truth. He and Scully didn’t have a fight. Not exactly, anyway. Still, he finds himself nodding, taking another sip from his mug.

“What did you do?” Frohike asks with a sigh.

“How do you know I started it?”

“Known you long enough.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Mulder says, sounding defensive. “We had a case – it wasn’t even really a case, but… it was complicated. We didn’t see things the same way and it all went to shit.”

What he doesn’t admit to Frohike is that he ran past her apartment building earlier, hoping to see her. The lights were off, indicating she either wasn’t home or already sleeping. Considering how early it was, Mulder knew it had to be the first one. He kept running, not knowing what else to do.

At one point, when it was dark already, his legs aching and screaming, he reached for his cell phone and tried calling her. He waited so long for her to pick up that his teeth started chattering. That’s how he ended up here.

“You should talk to her.”

“Tried that,” Mulder mumbled.

“Looking like a steam truck?”

“She wasn’t home.” He doesn’t want to think about where she could be. Who she might be with. He wants to believe she’s at her mother’s, screening her calls. That would explain why she didn’t pick up when he called her. He will try again later, needing to know she’s okay. She doesn’t have to speak to him, as long as he knows she’s not in any danger, or pain.

“She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“I don’t understand you people,” Frohike says with a sigh, throwing his hands up in defeat. He gets up and walks over to a locked cabinet, Mulder watching him open it. Frohike takes out something that he hands to Mulder. It takes him a moment to understand they're pictures.

“What are these?” He asks, looking at the first one. It’s Scully, standing next to him, right here in the Gunmen’s place. He remembers the day, the first time he brought her here.

He marvels at how young they looked – Scully especially. He flips through the pictures. Scully smiling. Scully giving someone – maybe Frohike – a skeptical look. Scully glancing at him, her head tilted, a warm smile on her face. He can’t stop staring at it, at her. The next picture is one of him, gazing at Scully. He swallows hard. Is that how he looked at her four years ago? He could have just walked around with a sign that said ‘property of Dana Scully’.

He goes back to Scully smiling at the camera. His finger hovers over her face, not daring to touch this moment of perfection.

“You’re looking at those pictures as if you didn’t see her every day in the flesh,” Frohike says.

“I hope you’re not doing weird things with these, Frohike.”

“They’ve been in the vault for years. I found them a few weeks ago, forgot I even had them. I meant to give them to you. Keep them or give them to Scully. They’re yours now.”

“You no longer think she’s hot?” Mulder means it as a joke, but Frohike is obviously not in a silly mood. His face remains serious as he regards Mulder with narrowed eyes.

“She’s hotter than ever. If you don’t see that, you’re even crazier than I thought.” Mulder is quiet, his eyes transfixed on her smile. She doesn’t smile like that anymore. Not with him around, anyway.

“I see it,” he says quietly.

“Have you told her how you feel?” Frohike asks.

“How I- how I feel?” He stutters. “Scully and I are friends.”

Frohike sighs, rubbing his temple as if Mulder were giving him a headache. He’s seen Scully do the same thing.

“You really are crazy, Mulder.”

“Why?”

“You and I are friends,” Frohike says, pointing at his chest. “You and Scully? That’s something else entirely.” Mulder wants to refute his words, but what good would it do? He knows he’s right – and Mulder knows it. He’s known for a while. Maybe even a long, long while. It might have been a day similar to today. Him out on a run, his thought swirling around Scully, trying to reach her. What he didn’t know is that his feelings are clearly written all over his forehead.

“I’m calling you a cab,” Frohike says, picking up his headset. “And don’t even try to stop me. Scully is gonna kick my ass if I let your ass freeze out there.”

Mulder sits there, his fingers worrying the edges of the photograph. He will give them to Scully. All of them. Well, maybe he will keep one of them. The one where she’s smiling at the camera. Yeah, he wants that for himself.

“Cab’s gonna be here soon. Think about what I said, Mulder. Next time you do this at least wear a reflective vest so people can see you outside. You really don’t use that brain of yours, do you?”

“Love you, too, Frohike,” Mulder says with a smile, hugging his friend. He really has a lot to think about.

#fictober2022 #thank you to jen for making me use the steaming ghost line #i got this idea while running actually so of course poor mulder went running too #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

[raptorsaurusmelain]

Let me show you... Youtube -chapter 17

I went to the dentist today and my mouth is still hurting for the descaling. Send help.

Warning : no proof reading, English is not my mother tongue.

If you are interested in reading this fic, the tag "#twst lmsyy" will give you all the chapters.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Once they had everything they went back to the dorm. The delivery would only be on Sunday so they had a tranquil night. Victoria read the books Trein gave her to help Yuu with their studies. It was interesting to see the story about both worlds and that they still did not have any world wars. The nearest thing they had was the Briar Valley against human war.

She was intrigued by how they achieved peace, she didn’t get there in the game. (we won’t spoil anymore here ;) )

She closed the old dusty book. Maybe she should write all her questions on paper and do a thorough review with Trein. [Not a bad idea. It would be better to learn about the situation with other words to see if I understood correctly.]

She spent her night writing down her questions. She knew from the game that Yuu would be struggling with the classes. At the same time what do you expect from being paired with Grim ? He was cute of course, but a little disorganized. And didn’t listen to classes very well. He was… Quite a bad student to tell the truth. His notes were mostly drawings of fishes and words here and there. She shouldn’t say anything about his notes, hers were a mix between words and little schemas about what the teacher spoke. Her notes were unreadable and she was ashamed of it. Some people tried to understand her notes, but even her best friend preferred to read anyone else's notes. And start talking to me about her thesis notes. It was just a pure drawing of circles and arrows in every direction.

She sighed while brushing her teeth. She should set up an example, she should do her best to show them that rigorous work could bring them everywhere. Even archmages, like Grim wanted.

She lay down in her bed. Tomorrow would be a great day of showing love to Yuu and Grim.

When they had breakfast, she announced her plan for the day : first they would need to repair the roof in case of rain. For the moment they were lucky but from the weather cast Victoria saw on the TV, it won’t last long. Even if NRC had fairies to control the weather you never know what could happen. -*Cough* fairy gala *cough*-. 

To avoid having Yuu and Grim on the roof, she told them they could watch what they wanted on the TV.

Victoria filled multiple buckets with tiles to pull up to the roof and lay a tarp to avoid dirtying her clothes. she delicately took off the old broken tiles and put the new ones, one by one. She stopped for the morning when she finished doing a quarter of the roof.

When she got down, Yuu and Grim surprised her by doing some tuna sandwiches with the tuna they bought the day before. She thanked them and give them their second job of the day : receive the old tiles and put them in the trash pile.

Victoria watched them from the roof doing their best. They were very cute, lifting the bucket like they could. [My babies are so cuuuute].

She continued her hard work and called it a day when half of the roof was done. [I need a bath and make dinner].

She looked at Yuu and Grim. “Play and do your homework, I am going to take a bath for an hour.”

It was a much needed self care after all.

They had hot dog spaghetti that night and Victoria verified their homework. Even if Yuu wasn’t going to school at the moment, Victoria served as the link between the teacher and the Child. She brought the homework, the teacher corrected it and gave it back with new homework.

But when Yuu began to struggle in math, Victoria watched with more attention the homework. The functions given were unnecessarily hard for their year. [What the hell ? What’s happening ?]

Victoria did her best to teach Yuu about integrals from the very beginning, trying to make the class interesting. Yuu then said something very worrying. “I prefer your way to explain it, I understood it better.”

Victoria didn’t like that. It was a teacher’s job to make sure the class understood the class materials.

The morning after, Yuu woke up and while having breakfast decided to tell Victoria that they were ready to go to class again.

Victoria nagged them about the way Yuu was packing their books. “You should be more carefuuul, they are going to be torn like this !”.

Yuu answered. “They are just books, everything is going to be alright !”

Victoria’s eyes widened and placated her hands around the side of the bag. “How DARE you ? They are living beings too !”

Yuu and Grim laughed at Victoria’s seriousness. [So I am funny after all !] Thought a very satisfied Victoria.

When they were at school, Crowley interrupted Victoria in her mindless swiping. “I bid you good morning Victoria ! I saw that the repairs of the dorm have started!”

Victoria was very suspicious. “Hello Sir… I began mending the roof, I only did half of it.”

Crowley was impressed. “Half of it in a day ? Good gracious, you are really determined !”

Victoria was jaded. “I am determined to have a roof that is not leaking, yes.”

Crowley felt a little bit uneasy with this comment. “Where did you learn about repairing a roof ? It must have been strenuous.”

Victoria inhaled and exhaled loudly. “Youtube.”

Crowley blinked. “I have a sense that it will be your answer to all the questions we have.”

And he was right.

Tag : @hipsterteller @boba-tea-fish

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst lmsyy #twst fanfic #twst yuu #twst victoria #Victoria is repairing the roof guys !!

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 1: The Tigers Stripes

OC Intro | Chapter 2

Hi! So sorry for the extra long wait for literally everything. 😂 I was getting back on track after the holiday and then immediately got sick so I’ve been struggling to edit and whatnot. But, I’ve been feeling better so hopefully I’ll be able to hop back into the swing of things. Thank you all for your patience and I hope you enjoy the first chapter! 🥰

Aldo credit for restaurant name used goes to @anastacia-lynn. They've got their own Sweetbitter fic that is amazing so far, so go check it out! ❤

TW: Mentions of cancer treatments & hospitalization, language, drinking, vague mentions of drugs.

This city was the most beautiful when it was bathed in rain. Something about seeing the lights distorted by the heavy drops of liquid, the colors reflecting in the puddles and pools that formed on the pavement, just made New York seem so ethereal. I’d lived here most of my life, moved around a few times when I was younger but I always seemed to end up back in the city. It was hardly perfect, always loud and busy with that big city smell, but it was home. Though it’d been difficult to get by most of the time, the opportunities the city had to offer kept me and my brother rooted here, for the time being at least.

“How’s the weather today?” A weak voice asked from behind me. The faint beeping of the machines pulled me back to the small, sterile room. Through the hospital window the city looked smaller, much less like the ethereal place I’d been imagining in my daydream and more like a cage of buildings and strangers and noise.

“Rainy,” I answered, turning around to offer the man in the hospital bed a smile. Half conscious and buried under a pile of thin white hospital blankets my brother smiled back at me.

Peter shook his head and chuckled. "That'll be fun for you to get home in."

Rolling my eyes I sat down in the chair beside him. "I'm sure I'll manage."

"You've been through worse," he agreed, looking back at the older TV, hospitals didn't exactly have the best options when it came to entertainment, but I supposed we were lucky to have a room with a TV at all. 

Time moved so sporadically it was odd to think of just how long we’d been in this place… staring at the same old TVs, but coming across old episodes of Pete's favorite renovation shows always managed to remind me. It had been four years since our dad died. Three since I dropped out of college and come home. Two since Peter was diagnosed with leukemia and one since he'd started being in the hospital more than out of it. Life hadn't been easy, even with the modest savings both of us had and our dad's half of a fairly well off bar. Peter and I never admitted it, but losing Dad was a tipping point of bad. Ever since it happened we both were just thrown to the chaos of life, chaos this city thrived in, and told we could either sink or swim. Lately we’d been sinking, but that was all about to change.

I held the small card in my hands, running the edge of my finger over the slight indentations of the writing in black pen. 22West was one of the most upscale restaurants in this city. It was a place I was well familiar with and so it was rather easy getting an interview with the manager.

Howard smiled widely as he greeted me at the door with a firm handshake. “Lena. It’s good to see you! Right this way, we’ll be speaking in my office.”

Most other potential employees would have been interviewed in the main area, but I wasn’t exactly like most people applying for a job here so Howard happily led me past the bar and towards his office. I could feel peoples eyes on me as they continued setting up for the long night of service and was thankful when the office door closed behind us.

“The place looks great, Howard.”

“Thank you,” he said as he sat down. “I have to say, I was surprised you called and more surprised when you asked me for a job.”

I shrugged. “It’s been a while since I had a steady job and I kinda need the money right now.”

Howard’s kind smile faded as he fussed with his pocket square, clearly anxious about bringing up this next part. “I heard about your brother's condition, I’m sorry you’re both going through so much.”

“Where did you hear about him?” I asked, only to receive a pointed look. With a scoff I nodded. “I should have guessed.”

“But, a job. I’m afraid I don’t have any server positions open currently.”

“I’ll take anything Howard. Fuck, I’ll even do dish.”

He laughed and shook his head. “I think we can do a bit better than that. You have the skill for any of our positions, why don’t we just play the field a bit?”

“Play the field?” I asked with a laugh. “When did you start getting into sports talk?”

“It’s a recent development, one I am finding I’m not very good at.”

“So, you want me to just find what needs done and jump in?”

Howard nodded. “Yes. You’ll mostly be back in the kitchen, but if there’s an opening up front I’ll be the first to offer it to you.”

“I think I can handle that. When do I start?”

That had been a week ago and now tonight was the night, the beginning of the real test. "What time do you need to go?"

I looked up at my brother's pale face, his tired eyes moving from the TV to look over at me. "Not for another hour."

"You should head home. You know, shower and and fix your hair, all that fun shit."

"And leave you here all by your lonesome?" I asked rubbing the rainbow beanie covering his patchy head. "Never."

"Lena," he sighed with a smile. "Go. I'll be fine on my own for a night."

"Seriously, Pete, I'm good."

"You're freaking out." He stated. I hid many things well, but never from him. "This is a lot, everything considered… You want this, Me, you've wanted this for years before all this shit."

He wasn't wrong. He hardly ever was. Finally I looked at him and nodded. "Fine, but call me if you need me. Please?"

He ruffled my hair. "Promise. Now get out of here. And tell Isaac I said hi!"

I pressed a quick kiss to his head and hopped out of the chair, grabbing my coat and bag before making my way to the nurses station. Lisa, one of the regular nurses on my brother's rotation, smiled at me. "Finally taking a breather?"

"Got work to get to now." I gestured to his room. "If anything happens, call me?"

"Of course," she assured me with a light squeeze of my hand. "Now relax Lena, and have a good night!"

I laughed as I started off toward the elevator. "I doubt it'll be any worse than usual."

Rain slid down the windows of the cab as we slowly made our way through New York traffic to my apartment building. It was sort of an in between place at this point. I rarely stayed there longer than a night or two when Peter was in the hospital and even when he was out I usually stayed at his place, just in case he needed me. I paid the cabbie and ran up the steps, trying not to get drenched in rain. I waved to the landlord as I passed by and quickly unlocked my door, wincing at the loud creaking noise it made when it opened. The pungent smell of dust and vague cleaning materials filled my nose instantly, making my head swirl with the suddenness of it. I tossed my bag onto the couch and hung my leather jacket carefully off the back of it, my fingers tracing the worn stitched on letters as I moved to my bedroom and quickly stripped to shower.

The hot water took a minute to kick in, but once I stood beneath the blistering spray of it my tense muscles finally began to loosen. Sleeping on hospital pull outs or in their old chairs was never comfortable, and my body certainly felt it. I tried not to think about the worst case scenario that tonight could turn into as I dried my hair and rummaged through my clothes for the appropriate attire that the high scale restaurant demanded. Not thinking something was difficult when you were about to walk face first into it, wearing clothes that fit too well and left no room to hide among the fine fabrics.

I didn't look like me, I decided when I looked into the mirror to pull my hair back. I looked like someone else… Someone that I might have been a long time ago but now… I shook my head and took a deep breath. There’s no time to turn back now. I reminded myself. Wrapping my leather jacket around my shoulders, breathing in the faint cologne and musk of alcohol and smoke, I let the nervous doubt fade. Peter was right, I wanted this… I'd studied and worked for something similar once. It was time to sink or swim, and I sure as hell wasn't going to sink now.

*

Jake hated the rain. He hated the way it smelt, hated how it lingered on every sidewalk and street, hated how it soaked through his clothes making him feel even more smothered than he normally did. He rode his bike quickly through the alleyway and nodded to his coworkers as they all huddled near the door smoking. Scott smirked at him and tilted his head to gesture to his pants. “Not the best weather for riding.”

“No shit,” he replied, grumpily as he swung the bike over his shoulder and shoved his way past them into the kitchen. Prep was in full swing, white coats weaving around him and yelling profanities and complaints as he passed by. Normally he’d slow down, take his time to really piss the cooks off with his big bike and sarcastic attitude, but he wasn’t in the mood for it today. Instead he walked up the stairs quietly and plopped his bike into the spot he always did, stripping in the back room and throwing his locker door open.

Light footsteps echoed behind him as he tossed his wet clothes inside and grabbed his work attire. The steps stopped beside the door and a soft sigh, one he knew far too well, filled the room. “You’re early today.”

Jake gave her a quick glance. Simone was ready for work, of course she was, her blonde hair tucked neatly into the ponytail and her clothes pristine, not a wrinkle in sight. It was her stiff face that made him roll his eyes and return his attention to his task. “You’re the one always on my ass for being late.”

“I’m just making an observation, Jake,” she replied, voice soft but he could pick up on the scolding in her tone.

“Well fuck off and go observe someone else.”

Simone set a hand onto his shoulder, the action one that should have made him melt… that had always made him before, but today made his body stiffen. “I’m worried about you. Ever since… You’ve been acting differently.”

The knot that had settled into Jake's stomach tightened as he shook her hand off. “I’m fine.”

Her silence was cold, bringing an uncomfortable shiver up his spine. "Is this about Tess?"

At the mention of her name Jake felt a rush of emotions fill him. Frustration, regret, anger. He looked at Simone and laughed. "Jesus, not everything is about that."

"Jake-"

“I said I’m fine.” He snapped. The silence was deafening for a moment before he sighed. “I’m fine, Simone.”

She nodded, a sadness filling her eyes that made him open his mouth to apologize, but she spoke first. “I know that things have been strained between us since she… Left, and I know you’re probably angry with me for my part in it." She shook her head, clearly frustrated. "I’m just looking out for you, like I always have and always will.”

“I’m not angry with you. She went behind both our backs and tried to get you fired. What happened it's on her. I'm just…” If he were to tell the truth Jake didn’t know what he was anymore. It had been simple before, all of it. He would work this uptight job, he’d keep his coworkers at arms length, he’d be with Simone if she that was what she wanted and if not he’d find some stranger to pass the time with, he’d get fucked up and go home and then do it all over again. It had been enough for him before and then something had happened. Something had changed. He sighed and buttoned up his shirt. “I’m just tired.”

Simone merely watched him for a moment before she, wordlessly, helped him with his tie. She smiled at him and stroked her hand across his cheek. “You can always talk to me. You know that right?”

“Of course I do.” He answered, leaning into her touch, hoping to feel the comfort and calm it usually brought him.

Jake watched her walk away, the knot growing as she vanished from sight. He felt nothing. No matter how much he drank or smoked, no matter how much attention Simone or anyone else gave him it never changed. He was numb. Numb to the city that once entertained him, numb to the things he once took some small measure of pleasure in and most of all numb to the reality of what it meant. He slammed his locker shut and ran his hands through his hair with a sigh. Pull yourself together. 

Nicky greeted him as he slid behind the bar and grabbed a rack of glasses to clean. “Ready for a long night?”

He shrugged, putting on his normal unbothered uninterested front. “Always am."

“Well, if the gossip floating around today is true it's going to be real interesting.”

“Howard got more bullshit up his sleeve?” He questioned with a huff.

“Don’t know how much of it will turn out as bullshit, but we’re getting a new friend today.”

Jake’s hands paused in their movements as he glanced up at Nicky with a raised brow and a smirk. “New friend? He actually hired someone then?”

Nicky nodded. “Remember that girl from last week?”

"The one he took to his office?"

"Yeah. He said she was more than qualified."

He hummed quietly as the quick glance he’d gotten of her replayed in his mind. He hadn't really had a chance to get a good look at her, but those that did, Sasha mostly, raved about how she looked like fun. “She must've been real impressive for him to hire her on the spot,” Jake joked. “What time does she get in?”

Nicky looked at his watch. “Any minute now.”

“This’ll be fun,” he replied, with a grin. Maybe that was all he needed to get rid of whatever his fucking problem was, something fresh and fun to toy around with. The kitchen doors opened and a flash of red filled his vision as the unfamiliar figure slid out into the open, pausing by the bar to look around. She was short, wearing professional looking attire, but the way she held herself was different… interesting. Her head turned and their eyes locked. 

Most people would have looked nervous, scared even, on their first day in such a prestigious place, but not her. There was no hint of fear in her glimmering green eyes, nothing at all save for a mild annoyance he assumed was directed at him. She looked bored. Jake’s smirk widened as he watched her turn away from them and walk toward the noise of the rowdy family meal. This was exactly what he needed.

*

Isaac leaned up against the wall in the half covered alley, making light conversation with a few of his coworkers, as I approached. He looked away from them and smiled widely, opening his arms and practically swallowing me in them. “Lena! Took you long enough! I’ve been waiting forever.”

“Sorry,” I answered. “Had to dig these shitty clothes out of my closet.”

He chuckled, dark curls of hair twisting out from beneath his bandana. “Well you look fantastic!”

I gave him a look and rolled my eyes. “I look like a washed up pianist or something.”

Isaac bit his bottom lip to hold back his loud chuckle. “I think you look more like an unsuccessful magician but maybe that's just me."

“Shut up.” I swatted his shoulder and followed him inside, forcing my breath to remain deep and even as the familiar excited chaos of the kitchen raged around me.

It had been years since I’d heard the clamoring of voices and the sharpness of the knives and felt the heat of the industrial ovens and stovetops in full swing. I’d missed it far more than I thought. Isaac led me to the back room and knocked on one of the lockers with a smile. “This one's yours.”

Examining the empty space I tossed my bag inside and carefully shrugged off my jacket, hanging it up. “Where’s my shirt?”

“Howard has it.” I raised my brow at him, earning a quick shrug. “Don’t ask me why, I never know what he’s got going on in his head.”

“Great,” I muttered, closing the locker and turning on my heel, running into a solid body. Every inch of me tensed at the feel of an unfamiliar hand grabbing my arm.

“Careful,” the man said, steadying me. I looked at him, perhaps a bit too coldly, noting his neat brown hair and his wide dark eyes as he held his hands up innocently and gestured to the locker beside mine. “Sorry, I was just trying to squeeze behind you.”

I forced out a hot breath and shook my head. “It’s fine, you just startled me.”

He held his hand out to me with a smile. “I’m Will.”

“Lena.” I replied, shaking his hand firmly. “You Howards manager trainee?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“I’ve been trained to identify management,” I replied with a modest shrug.

He chuckled and nodded to Isaac. “She your trail?”

The burly man laughed loudly and shook his head. “Nope.”

Will's eyebrows scrunched together as he looked back at me with a tilt of his head. “Wait, you're not trailing anyone?”

“No, at least I don’t believe I am.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Okay, well I… uh… I guess I can show you around, help you learn the ropes?”

I offered him a pat on the arm. “I’m good, but thank you for the offer. Do you know where Howard is?”

“He’s, uh, downstairs overseeing the family meal.”

“Thanks Will,” I said, sliding past him. “I look forward to working with you.”

I made my way through the kitchen and out the doors leading into the lobby. Everything looked so elegant and at the same time so boring. Nothing had changed about the posh space, not the tablecloths or the chairs or the glassware. It was all frozen in time, everything but the flowers. My eyes settled onto them for a moment, taking note of the tiny speck of new before I turned my head toward the bar, or more specifically the pair of blue eyes burning into me from behind it.

The man was tall, lean with messy dark hair and a cocky grin. He was attractive and he obviously knew it judging by the way his eyes unflinchingly took me in. I should have expected at least one cocky bartender, I thought to myself as I turned away from him and followed the noise deeper into the lobby. A long table was surrounded by the staff, all of them chattering over their plates of food telling jokes and bitching about how tonight was going to go. Everyone was too preoccupied to notice me, everyone but one woman.

Her eyes watched me closely, the plainness of her face revealing nothing outwardly while also telling me everything I needed to know about her. She would be a problem. Her blonde hair shifted as she tilted her head to the side, observant eyes trying to gather as much information on me as they could. She made herself look occupied by swirling the glass of her wine, looking at the liquid for a moment before looking back up at me with a soft smile. Soft and kindly as she appeared I knew better than to fall into such an obvious trap.

"Oooh, what's this?" A thickly accented voice cooed, pulling my attention away from the scrutinizing gaze of the blonde woman. The man was tall, bald with a long face and wide grin, two women moving to stand beside him, studying me with a similar look. "A baby tiger looking to earn her stripes?"

"This one already has stripes," Howard stated, moving toward the group quickly and handing me a neatly packed shirt. The group murmured among themselves, eyes darting between me and each other as Howard pulled a chair out for me and told them to take their seats.

The bartenders wandered back and took seats at the table where plates had already been made for them. The dark haired man sat beside the blonde woman and they shared a few hushed whispers before his blue eyes settled onto me and that shit eating grin returned. I rolled my eyes and focused on Howard as he began the quaint little meeting. A cocky bartender and a competitive shrew. Fucking great.

“It's good to see so many of you looking prepared for another night of excellent service." Howard regarded the group with a sarcastic look as he folded his hands behind his back.

"Is tonight not some kind of special occasion?" The light voice echoed from the blonde woman as she took a gentle inhale of the wine before taking a modest sip with a smile. "I highly doubt you'd bring out such an extravagant bottle for nothing."

"Excellent observation, Simone. It's a welcoming gift from the owner." Shit. Howard smiled down at me and poured me a glass of the rich crimson liquid. "As you are no doubt aware, we have a new member to the family. I trust we'll all be putting our best foot forward to show Ms. Harrow how things are around here."

I smiled politely, quickly examining the wine before taking a drink. "Thank you, Howard. I trust you’ll pass along my thanks to the owner as well for such a gracious welcome."

The woman, Simone, hummed quietly. "A bottle of 2002 Château Lafite Rothschild is quite a gift. I don't think I remember anyone else getting something so… Generous."

Yep. She was definitely going to be a problem. "2000 Château Lafite Rothschild. The 2002 is more acidic than this, fruity but a hair bitter. The temperature of the season resulted in riper grapes and thus the richness of this particular vintage."

"You know your wine," she said with a smile.

"I know enough," I replied with a modest smile. "There's always more to learn."

Howard cleared his throat and resumed control of the gathering, but Simone never took her eyes off me, not even when her companion turned to whisper something to her. I didn't let it bother me, not when I had bigger fish to fry. If the owner knew I was here, then there was a higher chance this whole thing could lead to far more horrifying individuals learning about my newfound job. It wouldn't come to that though, not if she kept her lips sealed, which she would… She'd give me that much respect.

After he’d finished his speech Howard set a hand on my shoulder and I could feel Simone’s eyes drinking the action in. “You’ll be in the kitchen tonight.”

“What does your chef think of that?” I asked cautiously, the last thing I wanted was to piss off the kitchen.

“He’s not exactly… excited, but I’m certain he’ll come around once he sees you in action.”

“That’s a risky play.” I smiled to myself. “It’s a good thing I’m so pleasant to be around.”

Howard only smiled as he turned to attend to his duties before opening, leaving me sitting at the table with the rest of the staff as they all murmured to themselves. I kept my head down, listening to the conversations going on around me before the man from earlier moved from his seat and dropped his dishes in front of me. I looked up at the now smug and smiling face giggling down at me. The Russian slid from his tongue smoothly, naturally, “Wash these, dish bitch.”

I looked back down as his friends piled their dishes on top of his, clearly amused by his antics. With a soft hum I finished the wine in my glass and stood, grabbing the dishes as I did, smiling at the stranger. “Since you asked so nicely.” The crude amusement dropped from his face the second he heard my reply in his native tongue. I gave him a pat on the cheek as I passed. “I’m a bitch with lots of tricks.”

As I walked toward the kitchen I could hear the loud ruckus of shock and awe behind me as the bald man reacted to the little I’d given him. The kitchen doors swung open, revealing Howard speaking to a very angry looking asian man whom I could only assume was the chef. I slid past them and toward the back jumping into washing the dishes I’d been carrying. The young man beside me regarded me with wide eyes as he held his hands out for the pile. “I can wash these.”

There were plenty of dishes already sitting in the sink, a pile that would only grow when everyone else decided to clean up after themselves. “Between the two of us this will go by quickly.” I smiled, diving into the dish pile. “Are you fast?”

“Fast?” He asked, nervously curious as he began tensely working beside me.

“At washing.”

The man chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. “I guess.”

“Want to race?”

He nodded and for a few blissful minutes of nothing but simple dish washing and a low stakes wager I felt a spark, old and long dwindling, pulse to life in my chest. I’d really missed this. Being part of a kitchen wasn't unlike being part of a family, and though I had a family, blood and not, a part of me had been longing for this specific kind of closeness. 

When there were only a few dishes left the man held his wet hand to me. “I’m Santos.”

“Lena,” I replied, stacking my last dish and shaking his hand. “It’s been a pleasure washing dishes with you.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “You didn’t have to help, but you did and I…” he smiled. “Just thanks.”

I bumped his shoulder with mine. “We’re a team, aren’t we? Teammates help each other out, even when they don’t have to.”

“So, you gonna be back here often or are you one of the servers?”

Looking back at the still pissed off chef I sighed. “Guess I should go find that out, huh?”

He glanced at the chef and made a face. “Good luck.”

Moving through the bustling kitchen I stood across the table from the chef and smiled. “I’m-”

“I don’t give a shit who you are,” he said, harshly. “Howard is insane if he thinks I’m just going to let you hop on the line and fuck up my shit. Are you even qualified to work in a kitchen?”

“I am,” I assured him, straightening my back. “You can put me on vegetables or something low risk until you think I can handle it but I promise I’m not here to slow down service, Chef.”

The man hummed, watching me closely with narrow eyes before he nodded to an open station. “You start there, but don’t get too comfortable because I’ll be watching. One mistake and you’re out.”

“Yes, Chef.” I moved to take my place, examining the workstation and the knives to make sure they were sharp and ready for the long night of fast paced service ahead. I took a deep breath, anticipation settling into my gut. Time to swim.

*

Jake was paying far more attention to his surroundings than he usually did. On a normal night he’d only really pay attention to the bar and the suckers that sat at it looking to drown their sorrows or be wowed by some flashing handwork and a decent drink. Anything beyond the long counter of bottles and ice was practically dead to him, but tonight was not a normal night, not anymore. Jake watched the kitchen doors, his head turning every time they opened hoping to see that flash of red hair and that bored face, but he never did.

Nicky chuckled at him the fifth time he turned. “She’s in the kitchen tonight.”

“Oh yeah?” Jake asked softly. “She on dish?”

“Line,” Nicky replied, meeting his expression of disbelief with a nod. “Apparently she’s killing it too.”

Jake smiled, serving his drink and moving past Nicky toward the kitchen doors. “This I gotta see. Cover me?”

“You got it.”

This girl was either a great liar or she was more experienced with the environment than he thought. He slid into the kitchen, quietly moving out of the way of servers and a few cooks as he moved to get a view of the redhead. She was chopping vegetables at an intensely quick speed, head down and eyes focused on her task. Scott watched her closely for a minute with a slightly impressed expression as she interacted with the rest of the kitchen with ease. This girl was absolutely in her element here and it only made Jake’s curiosity peak more.

When Scott barked some order at her she began moving toward him, an opportunity finally presenting itself. He let her slide past, keeping his head down as he slid directly behind her forcing her to turn into him when she moved to return to her work. Green eyes burned up at him as she stepped away from his chest with a low, surprised noise. “You should be more careful about where you walk, Lana.”

She responded quietly, “It’s Lena.”

“Right,” he said, taking a step forward, pushing her back into one of the counters as he slid past. “Sorry, it’s a hard name.”

He couldn’t see her face as he moved back toward the bar with some random rag, but he could feel her eyes follow him out the door. For the first time in weeks he felt alive, this Lena would do the trick. He’d have some fun and life would go back to normal. Soon the heat from her eyes faded under a new, colder gaze. Simone watched him from across the lobby, her face set in the expected smile and softness of a server, but her eyes held something Jake couldn’t quite place. Not jealousy, not anger… concern maybe.

*

The night dragged on for hours, and with each passing one Scott, the chef, pushed me harder and harder in an obvious test of my skill and limitations. As the service began to slow he settled in beside me, plating the last dishes with finesse and ease. “It seems I underestimated you.”

“I don’t blame you,” I admitted. “New additions to a well functioning kitchen are always a bit hard to navigate.”

“Where’d you study?”

I shrugged. “A bit of everywhere, I was part of an… extensive program.”

He nodded, the not answer one he thankfully chose to ignore. “Why here? With your skill you could easily find a place with a higher position available.”

“I didn’t finish my schooling,” I said. “Most places hiring for back of house positions want the whole shebang of experience.”

“Why’d you drop out?”

A lump caught in my throat as I sighed. “My dad died.”

Scott paused in his plating to look over at me with a knowing look. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, he lived a good life.” I smiled, fond memories filling my mind for a moment. “But, after he died there was a lot of stuff to work out and I just didn’t have time for both.”

“Well, I don't really know you, so I can’t really say much about your character or work ethics, but you didn't suck tonight.”

I laughed and nodded. “High praise, Chef. You gonna let me stick around then?”

“Eh, why not?” He teased before turning to the rest of the kitchen. “Alright everyone, that’s the last plate. Let’s close it down!”

I cleaned my station quickly, sliding back into place beside Santos and silently washing beside him. Isaac eventually joined us, leaning beside the sink and making light conversation while we worked. “You staying for drinks?”

“Fuck no,” I scoffed looking at him with a raised brow. “The last thing I need tonight is to play twenty questions with people.”

“Oh come on, Lena! Live a little!” Isaac smirked. “Tell her Santos!”

The man beside me shrugged, clearly shy. “I mean they open the bar up. You can get some pretty decent drinks.”

“Decent drinks,” Isaac agreed. “Come on. Please?”

“Not tonight, Isaac.” I wiped the water off my hands.

My friend whined but nodded. “Tomorrow?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m taking that as a yes!”

Santos and I walked to the back room together, changing in relative silence before he cleared his throat and offered his hand to me. “Have a good night, Lena.”

I shook it. “You too, Santos. See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

It was easy to sneak out the back door and grab a cab back to the hospital. Usually they didn’t let people in, but given the particular circumstance the nurses let me pass with smiles. “How’d tonight go?”

Lisa grinned. “I was gonna ask you that. He had a good night, though he’s being an absolute pain about resting.”

“Figures,” I joked.

“How was your first day?”

“Good,” I said simply. “Work is work.”

“Don’t I know it honey.” She gave my shoulder a squeeze as she passed. “Try and get that brother of yours to sleep!”

I smiled. “On it Lis!” The room was dark, save the light from the TV, still playing renovation shows, and the dim lights from the city outside. Peter sat up in his bed, eyes tiredly watching the TV as he repositioned his pillows. I knocked on the wall, alerting him to my presence. “Lisa’s pretty pissed at you for being up.”

Peter smiled. “She’s told me as much.” He patted the bed next to him, scooting over to make room for me. “How was work?”

“It was fine,” I said as I moved to join him in the bed. “The place hasn’t changed at all.”

“Figures. Maddie’s always been a bit set in her ways.”

“She knows I’m working there,” I said quietly.

Peter only nodded. “She is the owner, if anyone was gonna know it’d be her.”

“Yeah, she made a big show of it this morning.”

“Give ya and expensive bottle?”

“Oh yeah.”

He chuckled. “I bet everyone loved that. Did you make any new friends?”

I made a gagging noise. “New friends? Fuck no!”

Peter rolled his eyes and looked at me. “You gotta start being more friendly or you’ll be stuck playing scrabble with me every night.”

“I like scrabble.”

“You know what I mean,” he insisted.

“I've got friends, Pete.” I answered. “Prue and Quin, Isaac and Ozzy and all the others.”

“Work friends, Lena. People you can relate to about your fancy new job.”

“It’s not that fancy.”

Peter flicked my forehead. “Not the point dumbass. Just, try to make friends okay?”

I rubbed the now throbbing spot on my head. “Why are you so adamant about me getting all buddy buddy with people?”

“You’re gonna need connections in a place like 22West. I know it and so do you. It’s not the most cutthroat you’ve dealt with, but it’s still a competitive environment with plenty of people out to assume control.”

My mind flashed to Simone and her mumbling companion. “Point taken. I’ll try to be even more friendly tomorrow.”

“That’s all I ask.” He sighed, finally relaxing into the stiff mattress. “Now, how was your day?”

I smiled. "You were right. I did enjoy it a little bit."

He chuckled. "A little bit? Yeah right! Tell me about it, I'm all ears, little sis."

We only talked for a while longer before Peter dozed off beside me. Lisa poked her head in and gave me a thumbs up. As I lay beside my brother, watching the old episodes of his favorite shows I couldn’t help but smile. It was nice, being back in the swing of a kitchen… nice being reminded that life was more than hospitals and treatments and fear. I snuggled deeper into Peter's side, pulling his blankets up higher and closing my eyes. “Sweet dreams, Pete.”

*

The next day began much like the others. I stayed next to Peter for a while then I went home and freshened up before heading to the restaurant. This time when I entered people greeted me, the cooks were still not totally sold on the newcomer but they recognized me as someone that could at least do the job. Santos gave me a friendly wave as he prepped for a long night of dishes and grime and Scott gave me a nod as I passed by and headed up the stairs to get changed. A post it note was stuck onto my locker with Howards familiar and over the top handwriting telling me to help prep front of house this morning.

I donned the shirt and quickly made my way down to the lobby, ignoring the way everyone still stared at me as I polished glasses and began setting up the salt shakers at the tables, polishing each pair before moving to the next. Soft footsteps moved swiftly behind me and the tall blonde woman, Simone, reached over and grabbed one of the shakers to polish it. The stiff silence sent a chill of anticipation up my spine, but eventually she spoke, “You seem to be quite familiar with the intricacies of this place.”

A classic probe for information, I thought to myself as I remained focused on my task. “I have experience with this line of work.”

“Yes, Howard’s told me as much.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “What confuses me is why you’re here at all. We aren’t short staffed and truthfully Howard only interviews people for the fun of it. It’s rare that he actually hires someone, even more so that they’re hired on with no trails.”

“If you’re going to ask me what makes me special you’ll be sorely disappointed.” I replied with a soft laugh. “I’m not special at all. I’m just like everyone else that works here.”

Simone shook her head. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. Howard and the owner have expressed some kind of gratitude for you being here, that means something.”

“I know what it means,” I assured her.

“Then perhaps you could enlighten me?” Her tone was sweet, almost sickly so as she tilted her head at me.

I sighed. “Listen, I understand that my sudden appearance has disturbed the normal day to day of this place. People are bound to have questions, but I am not bound to answer them. I don't know you and honestly I am not exactly feeling inclined to pour my heart out to you and let you in on my deep dark secrets. I’m here to do the job I was hired to do, that’s it.”

She smiled, a gesture that was now clearly tense. “I’m just trying to figure you out.”

“You don’t need to figure me out to do your job.” I replied. “And I don’t need to be coddled to do mine.”

“Alright then,” she said calmly, coldly.

“Thank you for your help,” I said as I took the now empty tray back to the kitchen and set it down on the counter.

The alley was not exactly the most comforting spot to sit in, but I needed a breather and it seemed like the quietest place. Simone wasn’t unique, she was actually incredibly textbook when it came to places like this. She banked on her knowledge and position in the hierarchy of the restaurant to get her what she wanted. What that was would be more unique to her rather than some generalized whole, but given what little I could gather from her in our short conversations she was looking for control. The only question that remained was why. Control for comfort or control for power?

"Tiger!" The bald man from yesterday sang, as he stepped out into the alley with an already lit cigarette, the two women from yesterday following him close behind. "I’ve finally cornered you! Did you think you could just speak Russian at me and disappear?"

“I was hoping.”

“You speak Russian?!” He shook me with a manic giggle.

"Among other languages," I replied in Russian.

His face lit up and he put a hand over his heart. "It feels like I am home again! You sound like my mother!"

I grinned. "A compliment I hope?"

"Absolutely!" he said, waving his cigarette dramatically. "My mother is the best person in the whole world!"

“Still think I’m a bitch?”

“Oh I’m certain you are,” he laughed. “I am Sasha.”

“I'm Lena.”

He shook his head, blowing a puff of smoke out of his pursed lips. “Too plain!” He pointed to me with his middle finger and smiled. “You are Tiger Bitch now.”

I laughed and shrugged. “Beats dish bitch I guess.”

Sasha wrapped an arm around my shoulder and gestured to the two women smoking beside him. “These lovelies are Ari and Heather.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said, offering up my hand.

The first woman, Heather, shook it with a kind smile. Her tight curls bounced as she shifted on her feet. “You sure know how to make an entrance.”

The second laughed. “I will never forget the look on Simone’s face when you told her to fuck off.”

“She didn’t say that,” Heather said quietly.

“No, but we all knew that's what she wanted to say,” Ari argued. “Simone certainly read between the lines.”

I breathed out a soft sigh. “I’m guessing she’s not going to just let that go and leave me alone now?”

They all laughed and Sasha shook his head. “No, she’ll likely pester you twice as much now to try and get her little know it all prissy claws into you.”

“Great, that’s just what I need.”

“Oh don’t pout Tiger Bitch,” he cooed, stroking my hair. “If I had to bet on anyone being able to go toe to toe with her, it’d be you.”

“You just want to see a fight.”

He shrugged, mischief shining in his eyes. “I’m Russian. We always enjoy a good fight.”

Heather rolled her eyes. “It’d hardly be a fight. Simone has too much of a hold on things here. Sorry new girl, but I doubt you’d make a dent.”

“I think she’d get a few good hits in at least,” Ari added, digging into her pockets. “Need a pick me up?”

“No thanks,” I answered, the now distant memories of the rush whatever pills she had on her burning in my mind. “I’ve kicked shit like that.”

Ari groaned. “God you’re just like Sasha!”

“You’re sober?” I asked the bald man beside me as he snubbed out his cigarette.

“I am!”

“It’s only been like three months!” Heather reminded him.

He slapped her arm. “It still counts! How long have you been sober Tiger?”

“A while.”

Sasha hummed, examining my face closely. “You look like the type with some really fucked up past.”

I smiled. “Takes one to know one right?”

“You’re a cunt. I love it.”

Will’s head popped out of the back door and he sighed. “There you all are. Service starts in thirty minutes, let's get a move on.”

“Bossy bossy!” Sasha hissed, embracing Will in a tight hug. “Loosen up a bit or you’ll end up like Howard!”

“Or worse, Simone,” Ari said with a snicker.

Will rolled his eyes. “Well at least they’re not wasting time smoking and gossiping.”

“You love to gossip,” Heather chided as she moved past him.

“Not when we have service to prep for.” Will sighed at the crowd and nodded to me. “Don’t let these idiots get you into trouble.”

Each of them made offended noises as we moved through the back hall toward the lobby. “Thanks for the heads up, they seem like real rabble rousers.”

Scott had the kitchen in full swing by the time I’d washed my hands and gotten ready to hop into whatever position Scott wanted me in. He nodded to me. “You’re with me tonight, newbie. Try to keep up.”

I smiled. Finally something somewhat challenging. “Yes Chef.”

It was amazing how it had been years since I'd spent this much time in the fast paced chaos that was a professional kitchen yet my mind and body still remembered every step, every skill and ingredient that it needed to. All those years of study, all the years of sweat and tears and pain that I survived just to have this second chance of sorts… It was all made worth it when that tiny spark began to burn brighter in my chest. It was worth it as I finally began to feel how much I loved this. That was why I was here. Sure, I needed to start making steady money again, but I could do that anywhere… I wanted to be here, wanted to find this passion again.

The night was busy, just like the one before and likely the one to follow, but I kept up with the rush of food and orders and plating. I kept pace with Scott, who never outright praised my work, but looked over everything I did with an approving him. This was where I belonged, a hot and crazy kitchen putting my eager and skilled hands onto the food and sending it out to a crowded lobby of rich assholes willing to blow hundreds of dollars on anything we have them.

As soon as everything was cleaned up I snuck away to my locker, changing into a more comfortable T-shirt and holding my jacket tightly. My fingers ran over the peeling letters. Jack & Ozzy's. I smiled to myself. "Hope you're proud of me big man."

"There you are!" Isaac shouted from the doorway as he stormed towards me. "I was promised drinks."

"I made no such promise!" I reminded him as I pulled my jacket on. "You convinced yourself of my acceptance."

He shrugged. "Same thing. Come on, you're staying for at least one drink."

I signed and let him tug me into step beside him. "One drink. Then I'm outta here."

"Yeah yeah," he mocked. "Could you lighten up just a little?"

"Never." I smirked. "That'd make your life way too easy."

*

The first night Jake had been… Disappointed. It wasn't often he stuck around too long after service, he had far better places to be of course, but he did. All to see the new girl. He wasn't desperate, not in any sense of the word, if he wanted he could go to a random bar and pick up any girl he wanted. But he wanted this one. He wanted to get that bored look to twist into something more fun, wanted to pull that red hair into his hands, wanted to see just how much she'd give up.

When she hadn't come out with the cook that seemed to be closest to her he felt an irrational sense of frustration rise up into his chest. She'd not even bothered to show up, not even bothered to grace the waiting crowd with answers to their endless questions. It was impressive, or it would have been if he hadn't been so pissed off. He had to spend that whole night listening to them talk about her, the cook giving away nothing to any that asked. Even Simone couldn't seem to stop talking about her. This girl… Lena, was something else and Jake was fucking curious.

So when she slid out of the kitchen doors with the cook on her arm he smiled. He stayed off to the side, observing her as she sat down beside Sasha and gave the group her attention. Simone had already left with Howard like she always did and so now was the perfect time to see what the redhead was really made of. He pushed himself away from the dark corner and moved around the bar, giving Nicky a pat on the shoulder as he passed.

He practically shoved her cook friend out of the way and leaned toward her with a flirty grin. "What's your drink?"

*

I looked up into those pretty, shallow, eyes of his with a scoff. Who the hell does he think he is? He leaned forward, the chain around his neck almost dangling as he grew closer. I shrugged, giving him my best set of doe eyes. "What can you make?"

That smug, self assured smirk grew wider. "Anything you want."

"I'll just take something simple."

From behind him Isaac rolled his eyes at me. "Something simple then."

Sasha downed his drink and slid his glass toward the man with a smile, "Make me one too Jakey."

I leaned forward against the bar, if a game was what he was looking for I'd play. It'd been a long time since I'd seen a man like him humbled. "Jake? That's your name?"

He looked up at me, self assured and smug still, but his pupils flared when I spoke his name. "Yeah."

"Where'd you learn how to mix drinks?"

"Here and there. It's all about time and practice," he said coolly. "Most people struggle more with the attitude than the actual drink making."

"But not you?"

That smile grew. "Nah, I was born for this shit."

"Hmm."

“What?” The man asked, the cocky look on his face twisting into a challenge.

“I dunno, I just don't think it’s as impressive as you say it is,” I clarified sweetly.

"Maybe not, but this takes a lot of skill, and a bit of charm for good measure. Plus you gotta be good with your hands.” He winked at me.

I resisted the urge to laugh. "You think quite highly of your skills.”

The bartender beside him rolled his eyes and served Sasha another drink. "You can say that again."

The flamboyant Jake simply continued. “I'm very good at my job.”

"How good?"

His eyes flashed to mine, drinking in the shy body language I'd molded. "Is it a show you're hoping to get by batting those lashes of yours?"

I hummed softly. “I'm just curious. Maybe we could make a bet.”

“A bet?”

I stood from my seat, Isaac shaking his head in the corner as he fought against his laughter. I moved around to join them behind the bar and looked up at Jake with a fake look of innocent curiosity. “You make a drink, I’ll watch and then I’ll make it the same way, maybe even better.”

The challenge shined in his eyes as he leaned down closer to me. It was obvious he expected me to back up, to yield at least for a moment, because when I didn’t his smile faltered for a split second. “What will this prove?"

"How complicated bartending can be, and how good you are at it."

"What do I get when I win?”

“Fifty bucks.”

“A fifty dollar drink?” He questioned with an amused noise as he mulled the offer over.

Sasha rolled his eyes. “I’m bored! Take the bet and give us a show!”

Everyone else cheered and Jake’s smile widened as he stood up straighter. “Better pay attention, I won’t slow it down for you.”

“I think I’ll manage,” I assured him, leaning against the bar and turning my eyes to his hands as he gathered up his materials and got to work.

He was a skilled bartender, the fluid movements of his hands reminded me of Ozzy in his prime. Jake’s technique had an extra flare of elegance that I could only assume he’d adopted while working here to give the rich guests a bit of an extra show. His hands curled around each ingredient he used, every drink and garnish being added to the cocktail with finesse and precision. The drink itself was one I’d made a hundred times, the technique was simple enough to replicate. I looked up at him as he shook the drink with a wide grin and a quick wink before he poured it into the glass and added the final touches.

He picked it up and handed it to me, far too cocky and overconfident. “You want to just give me the money and save yourself the embarrassment?”

I took a sip of the drink, light and fruity with a decadent aroma. “Not a chance.”

Jake chuckled and moved around the bar, sitting in my vacated seat beside Sasha. I smiled at him, sliding my jacket off the shoulders, slow and deliberately timed. His eyes shamelessly rolled down my body, fixing on the tiger tattoo on my arm with a curious smirk. Isaac gave my shoulder a squeeze as he moved past with a quick and quiet, “Try not to embarrass him too bad.”

This was going to be fun.

***

Jake settled in his seat, fixing his attention on the new girl. His curiosity rolled around in him like an ever growing ball the more she spoke. Howard had hired her on the spot, something that happened, well, never, and judging by the way she confidently jumped into the fast paced position she knew what she was doing. Still, with all that restaurant knowledge she seemed to have, she was just as innocent and easy to win over as the other women before her. This was his turf and he certainly had an easy win in the bag.

He watched her slowly remove her jacket, knowing full well the play she was throwing out, but still he looked anyway. She was attractive, soft looking skin and big doe eyes, certainly the type he was used to drawing in for some fun. The tiger tattoo was a bit surprising, bold against her skin and large enough that it was certain to be seen. She gathered the same ingredients together, and then flashed him a smile, her eyes shifting from the slightly bored and innocent to confident and fierce in a blink.

As soon as she started to make the drink he was shocked. The way she moved was mesmerizing, everything deliberate and sensual, drawing everyone's attention and praise with complete ease. She was fast, hands moving through the steps with unfaltering grace and what she lacked in finesse she made up for in her charisma and flare. This was not her first time making a drink.

“I think this is what they call a hussle,” Scott observed with a laugh as he settled into the seat beside him. 

Sasha was overjoyed. “Oh I like this bitch more and more every minute!”

Once she began shaking the drink Jake couldn’t help but glance at the way her tits bounced beneath her deep cut T-shirt, and when he managed to tear his eyes away from them he was met with a wide grin and a playful wink. Fuck. He thought as an unfamiliar feeling washed over him. Sure he was impressed with her, but it was more than that… something that he hadn’t felt in a long time, a spark that could easily turn into a wildfire if he left it uncontrolled and that was something he absolutely refused to allow.

She slid the drink across the bar to him, leaning over to give him a generous view down her shirt. Jake silently took a drink, the sweetness of the cocktail washing over his tongue in an instant. Fucking… She held her hand out, batting her eyelashes as she waited. “I believe I’m owed a crisp fifty dollar bill.”

He fished it out of his jacket and shook his head with an amused scoff. “Where’d you learn how to do all that?”

With a modest shrug she folded the bill delicately as she replied, “I'm a woman of many talents.”

"And mysteries."

"Especially mysteries."She smiled again bright and mischievous, placing the money between her teeth as she pulled her jacket back on. 

God damn. “It’s hardly fair to hussle a coworker on your second day.”

“Yeah, or maybe you just need to be more careful about who you bet, Jerk.” He chuckled at her use of his own words against him.

“It’s Jake.”

She clicked her tongue and held his money in between her fingers. “Right. Sorry, it’s a tough name.” The audacity of this woman… He was impressed, infuriated as well but impressed. She turned to Isaac as he walked back out of the kitchen and waved the cash around. “Dinners on me tonight. Or, I guess, it’s on the master bartender.”

Isaac shook his head. “You gotta stop hustling people you delinquent.”

"If you're gonna be uptight about it I'll share  dinner with another delinquent."

Sasha's hand shot up. "Please, Tiger Bitch! I am a delinquent, take me in and let me suckle at your victorious teets!"

The new girl rolled her eyes but grabbed Sasha by the jacket and pulled him with her out the front door. Isaac hurried after them. "Wait, I take it back! Please buy me dinner!"

Jake looked down at the drink in front of him and scoffed. "Fuckin bitch."

Nicky laughed. "Never thought I'd see the day a woman kicked you down a peg. I think I'm starting to like the new girl."

"She certainly makes things interesting."

"Heading home?"

"Later," Jake said, downing the rest of the drink and standing. "I gotta brush up on my tiger taming."

Nicky shook his head as he began cleaning the bar up. "I hope she tears you up."

"Me too."

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