#i got this like last week and forgot to post RIP

[bornofrose]

Bit by bit she could feel the old magic returning. A part of her felt scared. The more spells she could summon, the more chances the wild magic might erupt. Another part of her... she couldn’t explain it but she could still feel it inside of her.

She felt complete...

...

Though her phone battery had been dead for months (she didn’t know she needed to charge it) she was finally able to mend the crack in her phone’s screen, among a few other dents and cuts. It was nice to have a spell she could rely on.

#~gyess speaks~ (ic) #i got this like last week and forgot to post RIP

[boygirlctommy]

if any of my funky little pirates die this weekend im 1) losing my mind 2) crying for 17 hours straight 3) goingback to being a full time dsm.per

#my post #/j on the last one. the other 2 are 100% serious #'my dice did not receive your thoughts and prayers' and '8 hour session' HAS ME SO NERVOUS #WHATTHAPPEDN #also the fact that i heard on a rolled they discussed having backup characters ready? and that charlei woiuld be okay w gill dying?? #listen man listen man i JUST GOT THESE PIRATES!! I JUST GOT HERE #I CANT LOSE THEM #listen like i mean if griffin or queen or igneous die. ill cope ill survive ill persist. #drey or finn? ill cry about it but ill survive #EARL??? curling up into a ball not speaking for a week #THE MAIN 3???? you will not hear from me again i will be moving into a cave and becoming a hermit finally free from the internet #i mean chips already dead rip chibo. but like hes fine! but hes dead yeah. #oh i forgot about alphonse. well thats ok the crew forgot about him too

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: It's Rebecca Black day

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As expected, your mother is waiting anxiously for your return. It’s not often you’re at the mercy of her disapproval but she has some choice words for both you and Roxie.

Why didn’t you call? You forgot to, everything was so chaotic. Why would you make me worry like that? You know how I am, it isn’t fair to not answer your phone. I was about to call the police. You’ve heard the same aimed at your sister dozens of times but it’s much different to be at the end of it. 

Once she’s done and you feel thoroughly guilty, you retreat to your room. That’s all you wanted. For the last day, all you wanted was to hide away. Yet, now that you’re safely behind familiar walls, you still feel unsettled. 

That’s enough excitement for a lifetime. How does Roxie think that is fun? It’s terrifying. 

You take out your laptop, your most prized possession, and sink back into your virtual cave. It’s safe there. The things you see on the internet are distant and often times fake. Fanfiction and streams and discussion boards. It’s all so menial and unimportant. It’s not finding a job and dragging your butt to work five days a week or disappointing your mother. 

Mm, well, you should check the job boards again. Something’s going to come up eventually. That’s what everyone says and those people have jobs. Even Roxie works, even if it is at a night club. It’s work and she brings home some impressive tips. When your mom asked her to get you a gig, she just laughed. 

You interviewed at Taco Bell a few weeks ago but you haven’t got a call. That’s probably not going to work out. Move on, try again and again and again. 

The computer doesn’t keep your focus as usual. Maybe it’s that you’re overtired or that your mom was so upset or everything that happened last night, but you just can’t rein it in. You close your laptop and lay flat on your bed. You close your eyes, exhaustion hot on your eyelids, but you can’t sleep. You’re no good at napping. What are you good at? 

You sigh and kick your feet. What are you going to do? You can’t spend another summer like this. You’re not like everyone else. You didn’t get into your school and you didn’t get some lofty job from your uncle’s company. As much as you can blame it on other’s luck, you have to acknowledge you’re own shortcoming. You procrastinate, you get nervous, and sometimes, you just avoid things altogether. 

You get up and grab your purse. The strap catches on your sweater and knocks it onto the floor. You search for your phone and pull it out. You bend to retrieve your cardigan and toss it with your purse back onto the dress. You look down as something flutters onto the carpet. 

You didn’t forget about the little note. It’s the weight that been on your shoulders. You take your phone and the paper and sit on the side of the bed. You can rip it up, crumple it and toss it in the bin, pretend nothing ever happened. You should. Just forget about the worst night of your life. 

You can’t. It’s not about your sister’s drunken display or your embarrassment. It’s about a job.  

You hang your head as your nose tingles. Your mom works her butt off and she’s so giving. You want to return the favour. Even if it’s small. Even if it’s just you paying for some of the groceries or a bill or giving her a few bucks. If you don’t try this time, you won’t be able to forget. You’ll always know that you are the reason you came up short. 

You unlock your phone and key in the number. You drop it and let the paper fall too as you stand. You pace around in circles until you’re dizzy. You hate making phone calls. The sound of your own voice is grating. Ugh.  

No, you have to do it. You can do this. It’s one phone call. What if that’s the job? What if you’re answering a phone? Get over yourself. Grow up! 

You pick up your phone and hit call. Your chest locks up. You can’t breathe. Oh god. If you can’t breathe you can’t speak. You hang up and squeak. Frig. No, don’t give up. 

You try again. This time, you force out an exhale and shakily hold the phone to your ear. There’s an answer after two rings. 

“Barnes,” a voice declares from the other end. 

“Erm, oh, Bucky? It’s... me,” you stutter out, giving your name as you realise he won’t recognise your voice. 

“Ah, hi, doll, give me a moment, one sec,” he says and you hear a scuffing on the other end and a muffled ‘excuse me’. His movement rustles and he clears his throat directly into the speaker, “there we are, doll, all yours. How are you?” 

“Uh, alright, I’m fine, er, oh... you?” You close your eyes, Just melt into a puddle and absorb into the carpet.  

“Doing great now, hearing from you,” he purrs, “I’m very happy you called.” 

“Mhm, well...” you put your hand to your neck. Your skin is burning. “I... was calling about the job. In the note.” 

“Of course, doll, so you’re interested?” 

Desperate, but you won’t tell him that. “Yes, please, I mean--” you cringe. You’re not ordering ice cream, “would... what would be... would there be an interview?” 

“Sure, doll,” he says. His tone is light and airy. Is he making fun of you or are you just self-conscious? Both, probably. “How about you come by the casino tomorrow at noon? Does that work for you?” 

“Yeah, uh, whenever,” you agree, “I can get a ride.” 

“Sounds like a plan. Can’t wait,” he coos. 

“Right, uh, okay, yeah, I’ll see you,” you babble dumbly. 

“Mm, yeah, see ya then, doll,” he intones. 

“Yep, er, bye.” 

“Bye--” 

You hang up in a half-panic. You did it. You made the call and you got an interview. You think. The conversation wasn’t what you expected but you think it went well.  

You blow out through your lips and grip your phone tight. Your heart hammers again. You march to the door and stop just before you can grip the knob. You’re excited but scared to tell your mom. 

You swing the door open and clammer through. You hear her in the kitchen doing dishes. It’s Roxie turn so of course your sister is sitting on the couch nursing another coffee. 

“Mom,” you slow and tap your phone against your leg as you stop by the counter, “I... I got an interview.” 

“An interview?” Her surprise is genuine, both in her expression and her voice as she looks at you. Her face blooms in a smile. “That’s wonderful. When?” 

“Tomorrow,” you utter. 

“Tomorrow?” She echoes. 

“At noon.” 

“Noon, okay, I can come home from work and drive you, but you’ll have to get a cab home. I should have enough for the fare.” 

“Ah, yeah, okay,” you clutch your phone in front of you and sway, “thanks.” 

“No problem,” she chimes, “where is it?” 

“What?” 

“The interview.” 

“Oh, at the casino.” 

“The casino?” She turns back to the sink and stares into the water as she scrubs, “hm, interesting. What will you be doing?” 

“Hm, I... don’t know yet. Maybe a cleaner.” 

“Oh, that’s not bad at all,” she says, “think I have a shirt you can wear. Maybe I could hem a pair of my pants for you tonight.” 

“Mom, you don’t have to--” 

“You should look nice,” she undercuts, “it’s not a big deal. Besides, it would be really good if you got a job.” 

You nod. You can hear the thinness in her voice. She tries to hide it but you know it’s not easy around here. You saw the red notice in the mail box and heard her on the phone with the landlord. The bough is close to breaking. 

“Thanks, I’ll... I’ll do my best.” 

“I know you will,” she trills. 

You smile and go back to your room. You shut the door and shudder. Great, now you’ve hurdled over the phone call, you can dread what comes next. Not just venturing out into the general public but going to an interview. It’s one thing after another. It feels like a lot after so long of nothing. 

🃏

Your mom lets you out in Lot 4. It’s far from the main entrance but she’s in a hurry to get back to work. You won’t keep her. You can walk a bit. 

The sun has you sweating along with the polyester trousers. The belt is pinned and the legs have been hastily hemmed. The blouse doesn’t breathe either but you managed to iron the wrinkle out of the sleeve. 

You come to the front doors and steel yourself. Your mascara sticks as you feel the perspiration around your eyes. Oof. You did your best to follow the tutorial with your sister's borrowed makeup but you skipped the eye liner; it only ever turns out smudgy. 

You enter and the air conditioning cools the heat in your cheeks and chest. The woman behind the counter greets you with a smile and a ‘how are you’ before asking if you’re checking in. You’re almost speechless at the sight of her. She’s so pretty and she can do the contour the way those girls on Youtube do. You wouldn’t be good for that job; not gorgeous like her. 

“Um, yeah, actually, I’m here for an interview,” you say. 

“An interview?” She tilts her head, “I didn’t see anything...” she clicks around with the slim mouse on the desk, “who were you interviewing with?” 

“Bucky, uh, Mr. Barnes,” you say. “Well, I spoke with him. Maybe I’m supposed to talk to someone else?” 

She says your name and glances from the screen to you. You nod, “yeah?” 

“Right, okay, I see,” she keeps her shining smile, “Mr. Barnes has a car waiting for you.” 

“A car?” Your brows pop up. “Alright.” 

“If you just want to head back out, it should be waiting there. You’ll see Merv, he has white hair.” 

“Okay, thanks,” you reply then gulp as you turn around. 

You turn slowly and go back to the doors. What is going on? He said to meet him here but he isn’t here? He would be a busy man. You just hope you don’t blow it. 

You pull the doors open and come down the shallow steps. A man with white hair stands by a dark car. One more mountain to climb. 

“Uh, hello, are you... Merv?” 

“That’s me, miss,” he stands straight, “you must be the lady.” 

“I... guess.” 

“Come on then,” he turns and opens the door, “Mr. Barnes doesn’t like to wait.” 

“Okay, sorry,” you step off the curb and climb into the car.  

The door shuts and you buckle up. At least the interior is cool. You snap the belt into place as Merv gets in the front. He rests a hand on the wheel and points with the other. 

“You want this up or down?” He points to the barrier between the front and back. 

“Oh, I don’t... whatever you like,” you shrug. 

He chuckles, “miss, you’re a lot sweeter than the other ones.” 

Other ones? Of course there would be other candidates. You wonder if this is a test. If maybe Merv is going to tell Bucky that you’re too quiet. 

“Do you like Springsteen?” He asks as he slowly pulls out. 

“Don’t mind him,” you answer. Honestly, you don’t really know any of his music.  

Merv flips on the stereo, “I like you even more.” 

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #casino au #mcu #marvel #all in #series #captain america #winter soldier

[eternalbuckley]

Undercover. — evan buckley

SUMMARY: You are an undercover detective and assigned to a Job with Lucy. Buck tried reaching out to you while you were still undercover because he missed you and after the job was done, you decided to have a talk with him. Which revealed unsaid feelings from Buck.

word count: 3,504

genre: angst and bit of fluff | gn!reader, queer!reader, bipoc!reader and plus-size!reader friendly

pairing: evan buckley x reader, lucy chen x platonic!reader, 911/the rookie crossover

warnings: talks about drugs, reader got physically hurt (broken rip and a few scratches), mention of a car crash, small descriptio of a physical fight, there is a bartender named marc (in case that's your name), Y/C/N used once (means your undercover characters name), very emotional buck, english is not my first language, slightly proofread — if I forgot something, please let me know!

disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know! reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated and welcomed!

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Working as a detective in the LAPD came with its good and bad sides. The stress was not always easy to handle but working undercover came with many more downsides. Things like not being able to be with the people you care about whenever you have an undercover job. It would be too dangerous if anyone in your private life would be a part of the life you created to be undercover and get involved with any case you had. Everyone who was a part of your life knew that, especially your colleagues and your boyfriend Evan Buckley. A firefighter of the LAFD.

You always had to go away for a few days here and there to get done different jobs since you started being friends with him a few years ago. Some years into your friendship, both of you realized that you had feelings for each other and started dating. Now you’ve been with him in a happy relationship for one and a half years. And soon you’d finally move in with each other. Buck knew what he had to deal with, such as not being able to contact you in any imaginable way whenever you were undercover. It would be too risky for you, him, everyone else and the job. You didn’t have to go undercover for the past two months now, as a result of an injury you got from your last job. Since then, Buck got even more protective over you. Naturally, he already was the protective kind of guy but since then it got more.

Buck wasn’t okay with you going undercover again but you had to because it had something to you with one of your old jobs and it was much needed that you would get into it again. And despite Buck being against it, you decided to do it and promised him you‘d be okay and everything would be according to plan.

"You got hurt the last time you promised me that," he mumbled but you reassured him that you would look out for yourself this time. Especially because you weren’t alone and had one of your colleagues, Lucy Chen, with you. This helped him to calm down at least a little bit. You kissed him as a goodbye and left his apartment, shutting down your private life.

Since then, it had been three weeks and the job was taking longer than expected. It was unbearable for you and Buck but it needed to be like this. You knew you were close to being done with the job but you couldn’t risk anything yet. Lucy and you didn’t have all the evidence you needed to arrest the drug dealers and the whole gang you were infiltrating. She had to brew lots of different drugs and you helped her with that. Collecting all the evidence wasn’t as easy as you hoped it would be but there wasn’t anything else you could do. You had to wait and so did Buck.

Whenever he wasn’t on a call, he sat on the couch of the station and kept looking at his phone whenever it vibrated. He hoped it would be you, letting him know you were back but every time it wasn’t what he was hoping for. It was the first time you had been away for such an amount of time since you got together and he missed you. He needed to see you again. Eddie tried to cheer him up by spending time together with him and Chris but not even that helped Buck. He was thankful for the efforts but the only thing that could cheer him up would be seeing you. He knew he couldn’t but he had and needed to find a way.

So, despite everyone’s concerns and efforts to keep him away from doing what he wanted to do, he drove to a bar. Buck knew from your stories about your undercover jobs that this was the place where you usually hung out with a few drug dealers. It was a normal bar; everyone could enter it without automatically being associated with the gang or any criminal acts but it was a known place for this gang. He sat in his car, thinking about if he should do it. Buck knew it was wrong and the risks that could come with it but in that moment, he was too stubborn and got out of his jeep and walked over to the bar. He entered it and looked around, looking for you. And to his good luck or maybe later his bad luck he found you immediately. Your eyes met each other and for a second you thought your eyes were lying to you but they weren’t. You saw your beloved boyfriend walking over to the bartender and watched him as he ordered himself a drink while sitting down there. His back was turned to you but you knew what his aim was. Internally you cursed him.

"Hey, isn’t that your boyfriend?" Lucy nodded towards Buck and whispered to you. You nodded your head and sighed. He wasn’t supposed to be here.

You were currently sitting with her alone, luckily no one else in the gang you both were infiltrating was with you. Giving you a night just together. It was very unusual but you both took it as a chance to plan your next steps.

"I‘ll go and get us another drink, warn me if anyone gets too close," you told Lucy as you stood up. She hummed and nodded her head.

You walked over to the bartender and stood right next to Buck but kept a distance from him. You didn’t want to cause too much attention in case anyone in the gang was secretly watching you and Lucy.

"The same drinks twice again, Marc," you smiled at him. He nodded and started making your order. He was a few feet away from you now.

You didn’t look at Buck since you weren’t sure if you were being watched by anyone. "What the hell are you doing here?" You mumbled quietly but Buck was still able to hear you.

"I needed to see you," Buck took a sip from his drink, "I miss you." He noticed that you didn’t look at him which hurt him but he knew you couldn’t risk anything. It was already too risky for you to talk with him in the first place but he needed to risk it.

You sighed and looked down for a moment, "I miss you too,” you replied eventually in a soft whisper. “But you should go. You shouldn’t be here, it‘s too dangerous for you or us." You continued as you watched Marc while he made you the drinks. He shared a polite smile with you from the other side of the bar.

Buck nodded his head and finished his drink before he finally looked at you. You looked different. You had another haircut and hair colour, you even had a few fake tattoos on your body. You looked good in his eyes, different but good. But not as good as you usually look like.

"Here are your drinks Y/C/N," Marc gave you the two drinks and went back to serving other customers. You thanked him and took the two glasses.

You turned your body to Buck and gave him a small reassuring smile, "I‘m okay, don’t worry about me." You whispered once again.

Buck nodded his head again, "I love you." He whispered as you turned around to walk back to Lucy.

"I love you too," you replied quietly and eventually returned to Lucy without turning around again. Buck watched you go and gulped. He didn’t want to leave but he had to, and so he did.

As soon as you sat down again you looked out of the window and looked out for any people who possibly could follow him as he drove away but you weren’t able to see anyone following him. With a sigh and worry on your face, you looked back to Lucy, who already had her eyebrows raised. But before she could say anything you told her that you would talk with him about it once the job is done.

"I mean he knows that he shouldn’t do it but… It‘s Buck after all," you chuckled with her. You tried to hide your fear that someone might have followed Buck and that he could be hurt…. or worse.

After an hour Lucy and you decided to call it a night and drove back to your motel. The following days were quieter than usual. The gang you were working for didn’t contact you or Lucy, which was weird for the both of you but you decided to wait longer. After a few more days, three men came to your motel and took you with them. The conclusion was that the leader wanted to test you and Lucy. He wanted to see if he would be able to trust both of you any longer. Luckily you seemed to have passed his test because he involved both of you in the next steps of his plans.

Two weeks later the whole gang got arrested during a drug deal. The last days weren’t the easiest ones because one of the closer gang members started questioning the story about Lucy and you. Which resulted into the gang leader starting to question both of you as well but the deal was still being done. But you didn’t get out of it without any injuries. One of the gang members hit you in the side of your rips before he got arrested but that was everything that happened.

Your sergeant still made sure you‘d get a checkup in the hospital in case your injury caused any bigger inner injuries. You didn’t want to tell Buck anything about it because you knew he‘d be too worried but as soon as you entered the hospital with Lucy you met him. He and the 118 team just arrived there because Bobby got hurt on their latest call. You wished you could curse whoever was in charge of all the happening events because you didn’t want Buck to worry about you as well if he already was worried about his captain. Buck immediately stood up and rushed over to you, his face was slightly bruised.

"That‘s my cue to go," Lucy bit on her lower lip and held up her thumbs as she left you alone.

"Lucy!" You whisper yelled and held your rips because of your quick movements. Maybe it hurt you a bit more than you thought.

Your action didn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, "What… What are you doing here?" He asked you, clearly worried about you. He held you by your arms and sat down with you.

"I‘m just here for a checkup, nothing to worry about," you tried to smile but you knew he‘d see right through it.

He nodded and raised his hand to touch your slightly bruised face but his face turned into slight panic or shock for a moment, "W..wait am I," he looked around and stopped in his tracks, "Am I allowed to talk to you? Is your job over or.."

You chuckled but hissed because of the pain, "It‘s over, we got everything we needed." You looked at him and touched his face to check up on him, "What happened to you?"

"Don’t worry about me. It‘s just a few scratches, we‘re here for Bobby," he told you and explained what exactly happened that led his team to be here.

They tried to rescue a couple after a car crash but another car drove into the accident and the team got slightly hurt. Especially Bobby but nothing too serious, he‘ll be out again after the checkups are complete.

Buck smiled but it was quickly replaced with worry again, "I‘m gonna get you a doctor."

You nodded and Buck left you there. Lucy came back with two water bottles and sat down next to you. She let out a relieved sigh and was clearly happy that the job was finally done. She was tired of brewing all these drugs.

"I guess you won’t talk to him tonight, hm?" She asked you as she gave you one bottle.

You took the bottle and opened it, "About the thing that happened at the bar a few weeks ago?" You took a sip and looked over to Buck who was talking to a doctor. You shook your head and looked back to Lucy, "I don’t think so. He already had a rough day. Talking about this can wait."

Lucy nodded and squeezed your arm after she put her hand on it, "Just don’t wait too long. We or especially you cannot risk it again. The next time it might be too late and one of you might die, or even both of you."

"I know," you sighed as you whispered and pinched your nose bridge. You tried to think about different ways how you should approach him with this topic but you still didn’t find the correct one.

As soon as you were off to go, you went home with Buck. He insisted on staying by your side, especially because it was your first night alone back home in your apartment. Originally, he wanted to drive to his apartment but yours was nearer. Buck waited for you as you got checked and the worry on his face was clearly there. You knew he wanted to ask you so many questions but would he get all of them answered? He didn’t think so, nor did he expect it.  But he for sure knew, he would try to get answers out of you about your well-being and how you got hurt.

"Ugh I require so much sleep," you sighed dramatically as soon as you entered your apartment.

You dropped your backpack on the floor and took off your jacket. Buck immediately came over to you to help you. Any big movement hurt you too much, he knew and saw that in your face.

"What happened to you?" He asked you again and reached out to touch your cheek. You didn’t flinch and just looked at him, "I.. I know you can’t tell me explicitly but.. You got hurt. Again."

You took his hand and squeezed it, "I‘m fine, really. It’s just a few scratches and a broken rip." You watched his eyes scanning your face. He furrowed his eyebrows but relaxed them after a few seconds again. He must have been thinking about something but you weren’t sure if he was going to tell you what he had on his mind.

After a few more seconds Buck shook his head and decided that he wanted to know what happened, "Tell me how it happened." He whispered as you turned away from him to get yourself something to drink.

"Buck…" You exhaled after you took a sip from your glass. You didn’t want to tell him everything but you knew he wouldn’t stop asking you about it. That was something you loved about him. That he would never back down from something.

"Please,” he begged desperately, “Tell me everything you can.”

Your eyes found his pleading ones and you slowly nodded your head. "Okay," you sat down with him on your couch.

Buck held your hand the entire time and listened to each of your words. You told him everything you were able to tell him about the past few weeks. From the point where you two met at the bar until almost all the main people from the gang got arrested. You told him about the gang leader starting to question the story about you and Lucy. How everything almost went down and that they were almost outed as detectives but luckily to you, you and Lucy were good enough at convincing most of the gang members. Of course, some didn’t believe you and watched your steps very clearly. Up until early this evening when everyone got arrested. Before your colleagues stormed into the building one gang member confronted you and Lucy. Having evidence that you two were indeed detectives and he threatened you to tell everyone about your lies. Hoping you two would die. Soon you three got into a fight and you got hit by the gang member a few times. In your face and rips mainly. But right after that your colleagues came in and made sure everyone got arrested.

Buck gulped nervously, "You mean… You could have died?"

You slightly nodded your head but immediately squeezed his hands, "But I didn’t, okay? Everything is fine. Everyone got arrested and everything is done." You spoke softly.

"But you still could have died," his voice cracked. His lower lip trembled in fear of the possibility of losing you.

He didn’t want to imagine getting a call about your passing from your boss or any partners. Buck was afraid that you could die in a job. He knew his own job wasn’t the safest either and that you might feel the same way as he did about you and your job. But he couldn’t imagine a life without you, that’s something he was one hundred percent sure of.

"Buck,” you tried to calm him down but it was not possible. You took both of his hands and pulled them to your lips to kiss him on his knuckles. It usually helped him to calm down whenever you did it but this time it didn’t seem to help immediately. “I’m here, okay? Nothing bad happened. I’m-“

"I don’t know how dangerous undercover jobs can exactly be but I don’t want you to die. I can’t lose you,” he shook his head with tears in his eyes.

You didn’t know about his opinion about your job. Both of you haven’t really talked about it before. Sure, you knew he didn’t like your job because he was scared you could badly get hurt again but that he felt this exact way. That was something new. He never was near crying because of it, at least not in front of you.

"You won’t lose me," you reassured him and put one of your hands on his cheek. He leaned his head into your hand but his worries were still present.

You wanted to promise him that he won’t lose you but you didn’t want to make a promise about this. Not, if you weren’t one hundred percent sure if you could keep it. The only way you could keep it was by staying with him because you deeply cared about him and loved him. But regarding to your job, you couldn’t promise him that. Neither could Buck promise you the same thing and both of you knew that.

"But what if there’s a time you can’t help yourself and you get in danger and-," he started rambling but stopped himself to look at you, “I’m worried about you.”

You nodded your head and whispered a few ‘I knows’. "And that’s okay but if I ever get too close to something dangerous, I‘ll get out."

Buck tried to smile at you but it didn’t reach his eyes.

"But…" you started and scooted closer to him. His hand immediately found its way to your thigh. You were thinking about how you could approach another important topic in this whole situation. Because you still needed to talk with him about his appearance at the bar a few weeks ago. But right now, you decided this would be something you should discuss later.

Buck looked at you, waiting for you to continue. He turned his body completely to you and signalled you that he was listening. With your one hand, you wiped away his tears and shook your head. You cuddled into him and wrapped your arms around his torso and so did he.

"There’s something else I need to talk with you about but it can wait for now,” you whispered softly and closed your eyes. “Right now, I just want to sit here with my boyfriend and cuddle with him.”

He nodded his head with a chuckle and squeezed your arms, he tried to make sure he wasn’t accidentally hurting you. He finally had his angel back in his arms. You nuzzled more into his body and hummed, feeling calm and happy. You didn’t want to let go of him and neither did he want to. There was an underlying tension between you regarding you and being an undercover detective but Buck knew he couldn’t change your opinion. You loved being a detective and especially working undercover. After all, it wasn’t just him who was scared every time. Whenever Buck had a shift, you were scared you would get a phone call about his passing or that you’d see anything about it on the news. You deeply cared about each other and were scared for each other but the love between you was stronger than anything else. But little did you know what would come sooner or later.

#⚘; — my writing ✧♡ #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley fluff #evan buckley angst #evan buckley fanfiction #evan buckley x y/n #evan buckley x you #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley one shot #lucy chen #evan buckley fanfic #friends to lovers #the rookie #9-1-1 #lucy chen x reader #lucy chen x fem!reader #911 show #911 x reader #911 fanfic #lucy chen fanfic #the rookie x reader #911 fox #911 #9 1 1 x reader #9 1 1 fanfiction #911 fluff #911 angst #the rookie fanfic

[toysrguts]

MORE jeff hc's!!!!!!

thank u for the love on the last one i love writing these sm ^___^

•can fit like 11 cigarettes in his wide ass mouth at once

•half asian (his mom is chinese)

•his hair is really thin because it never grew back properly after being burned

•hates being wrong more than anything else on the planet. sometimes he knows hes wrong but will NEVER admit it and fight to the death over it

•bpd representation 💯💯💯

•something in my brain tells me he cant die. kind of like a johnny the homicidal maniac situation. he never gets caught and he never dies (he can still get seriously injured but he will always come back when u least expect it)

•always has to be in control of the aux in every vehicle hes in and is so obnoxious when his favorite songs come on

•also yells "I SAW THIS LIVE" every time a band he saw live comes on

•barks at random unsuspecting people through the open passenger window

•always stealing shit off his victims after killing. he has a whole ring collection because of it, and of course he steals wallets for weed money

•also steals from slenderman but you didnt hear that from me

•"saying jeff is a douchebag is like saying the sky is blue." -toby

•kind of guy that takes out his bottled up emotions on everyone around him and then hates himself for it

•wears the same gross outfit all the time. just grabs one of the 3 pairs of crusty skinny jeans from off his floor and of course the musty ass dirty ass torn apart ass hoodie

•smile dog is truly his best friend. he feels like nobody understands him like smile does. he loves taking him for walks in the woods while smoking a cigarette and having deep conversations with him (not that he actually responds but jeff knows smile can understand what hes saying)

•horror movie enthusiast, from obscure fucked up ones to super cheesy ones. he has a whole shelf dedicated to his horror movie collection

•has an addictive personality, which is partially why he has a drug and alcohol abuse problem and struggles with self harm

•rarely goes out in public because hes known to have violent outbursts. he once committed mass murder at a burger king because people were looking at him weird and EJ had to drag him out of there before the cops showed up

•HATES the light he literally duct taped over his windows so the light couldn’t get in (he forgot blackout curtains exist)

•his room smells like pennies, skunk weed, and foot stank

•is actually an incredible artist but acts like hes not. literally everyone loves his work except for him

•secretly loves cartoons. he loves taking bong rips and watching scooby-doo to escape reality :)

•has never had a healthy relationship with anyone in his life, usually just sticks to hookups

•its a miracle this man is still alive considering he survives off gas station snacks and week old sodas that have been sitting on his nightstand

•speaking of he once drank an old dr pepper after he forgot he put out a cigarette in it

•got a tramp stamp when he was blackout wasted

•writes random thoughts and draws little doodles all over his bedroom walls; it kind of looks like a mental asylum in there

•also his bed is literally just a blood stained mattress on the floor with no sheet and a singular pillow and blanket

•so fucking broke he will do anything for a hundred bucks

•writes the most foul hate comments under every post he disagrees with

•he loves video games, his favorite being postal 2 (hes OBSESSED)

#creepypasta #jeff the killer #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta headcanon #jeff the killer hc #jeff the killer headcanons #jeff the killer x reader #jeffrey woods #jeffery woods #jtk headcanons #creepypasta jtk #jtk x reader #jtk #jeff woods #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta fanfic #slenderman #slender mansion #slenderverse #headcanons #headcanon

[thebearer]

no but i love your writing! ever since i watched s1 and 2 last weekend because of a youtube ad, i peaked in the carmy tag and was a surprised to see the amount of stories carmy had! would love a scenario where he’s married to a sassy, take no shit type of reader sim to natalie. his wife legit could work with him for all i care. but for whatever reason he does something w/o checking in— he prolly just forgot. she finds out and confronts him hella pissed (could be at family or during restaurant prep idc) and she says “oh, if carmen said it was cool.” not even carmy the full government name bro 😭. p much how natalie articulated it 🤣. can’t remember the ep but in early season 1 when marcus blew the fuse you can also include slick commentary from richie (and fak) if you’d like! tysm in advance 🥰. also if you don’t me me asking, do you have name/alias on this blog? what we can call you? enjoy your week

- 🥣

yes yes yes ahhhhh! he definitely needs someone who keeps him in line but walks that fine line where he can also keep them in line (bc dom!carmy is living in my heart rent free forever lol). also you can call me e if you'd like :) thank you for your sweet words! i hope you have a good week, and hope you enjoy this!

"What's this?" You ask Sydney, looking at the new box being unloaded from the truck- big and bulky in a crate, far too large to be a produce shipment.

"Uh, I think it's the new glassware for the bar." Sydney looked at her clipboard, back at you carefully.

"Glassware? What new glassware. We haven't picked that out yet." You frowned, looking at the crate carefully.

"Oh, well, it was in Carmen's notes for the day, so... I think that's the only shipment we have. Unless the hostess stand came early, which would be amazing, but you-" Sydney stopped her ramblings, seeing your soured expression. "You know what? Never mind, uh, ignore me. I'm just...Carmen's with Sugar and Richie in the back if you want to ask him."

"Thanks, Syd." You muttered, ripping the bell open with a shrill before bounding towards the back. You could hear them before you saw them, a familiar chorus of chatter and rising voices.

"Hey, so what's the delivery out front?" You ask, not bothering to wait for them to acknowledge you. If you did, you'd never talk, they all talked over each other.

"The new glasses for the bars." Sugar turned, smiling softly at you. "How are you doing?"

"Good." You muttered, eyes cutting to Carmen. "We haven't ordered new glasses yet."

"Uh, well, I thought you liked the ones from last week, angel." Carmen's eyes were bulged, clearly flustered.

"I said I liked them for basics, but I needed you to confirm a drink menu." You glared at him, arms crossing over his chest.

"You can't put the drinks in that?" Carmen asked, hand flying out towards the hall.

"Not if you want the specialty, no." You huffed. "Carmen, I told you to wait just a few days and we could get them at the wholesale market. The textured ones for the signature at least."

"Uh-oh," Richie muttered, snickering to Fak.

"Can you not use the glasses I got?" Carmen sighed.

"I can, but did you get enough? And did we decide if the signature is going in a whiskey glass or a cylinder one? Did you order double of those?" You lifted a brow, taking a step towards him. Richie and Nat watched, heads turning from you and Carmen like a tennis match.

Carmen paused, running a hand down his face. "N-No, but-"

"-So what are you going to do when we open and you run out of drinks, huh? When everyone orders the signature and it comes in different glasses? You think those travel groupie influencers won't notice? Won't post about it and make it a big fucking deal?" You countered.

"Then we'll figure it out!" Carmen huffed. "Look I gave the order to Richie, and-"

"-Hey, no fuckin' way cousin. You gave me your order." Richie held his hand up. "Sweetheart, Carmy said it was good so I just placed the order."

"Well, if Carmen said it was good, then it must be, right? He's the fucking boss." You snarl, glaring at Carmen furiously. "Seems like you've got it under control, Carm, so I'll leave it to you." You turn on your heel, furiously stomping away.

Richie and Fak wait until they hear the slam of the office door, to release their cackles. "Oooh! Cousin, you are in the fuckin' dog house now." Richie laughed, Fak's chorus of barks emphasizing his statement.

"Shut up, ok? Just shut the fuck up." Carmen growled, running a hand through his hair.

"Carmy, why wouldn't you ask her before you ordered? She's your mixologist." Nat sighed, shoulders heavy with disappointment.

"Also your girlfriend." Sydney added, poking her head in. "I told you to wait. Just saying."

"Thank you, alright, thank you all for your fuckin' helpful words." Carmen snapped. "Just... Nat, make sure they get all that shit set up right, ok? Make sure the dishwasher fucking works before we're open, please."

The office door was shut, and Carmen hesitated, reaching for the knob anxiously. He wasn't sure if he should knock- I mean, fuck, this is his office but... you were already so mad at him. Knuckles rapping on the door, he didn't wait for the invite in- knowing he'd never get one.

Carmen found you, sniffling in a furious pout in the corner, body angled away from the door. "Baby-" Carmen started with a sigh, shoulders falling gently at your upset state.

"-Don't." You snap, wiping your eyes. "Don't even start with me, Carmen." The way you say his full name sounds so bitter, too formal and full of malice to be from you.

"I-I'm sorry. I thought we agreed on it, and-and Richie was pressuring me and... And you're right. I shouldn't have made that decision without you, and I'm sorry." Carmen said slowly, waiting for your gaze to meet his, angry, wet, waterline.

"Yeah, you shouldn't have." You agreed bitterly, wiping your eyes. "I get this is your restaurant, Carmen, but don't ask for my help if you're just gonna do what you want anyways. That's-That's not nice."

"I know." Carmen nodded slowly, approaching you with the caution he would a wild animal. "I want your help. I do, and-and I like your idea that the house drink goes in the special glass. Makes it stand out."

You lifted your gaze up to his. "Yeah?" You asked, he nodded, sitting next to you. "Did you blow your budget?"

"No," Carmen shook his head, not a total lie. Fak had been able pull some strings with the new stoves, turns out he did have a guy. It left a little over five thousand left over.

"We could go to that place, if you want to. Go look and see if they have the glasses. Get a rough estimate of about how many we'd need." Carmen offered, his hand cupping your thigh gently, thumb rubbing over your leg in soothing circles.

"As long as Sydney or Nat does the numbers and not you." You snorted lightly, rolling your eyes at him.

He laughed, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I'll get Sugar to run 'em, alright? Then we can go. Call it an early night."

You beamed at the idea, letting him slide in next to you, melting into your side. "That sounds good." You hummed, letting your head fall on his shoulder.

"I-I'm real sorry I didn't as you ." Carmen muttered. "That was shitty."

"Yeah." You sighed in agreement. "I just... I want to be included in things." You asked, looking up at him sweetly. "Not everything, but-but at least the things that apply to my area."

"I know." Carmen nodded, his hand catching your cheek softly. "I'll let you handle it next time, alright? I trust your opinion."

"You don't have to do that-"

"-No, you're right, I don't. But-But I want to." Carmen nodded. "I know you're lookin' out for the best in this place just like I am."

#thebearer #thebearerblurbs #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto smut #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fluff #the bear fx #carmen berzatto angst #the bear season 2 #carmy smut #richie jerimovich

[lalal-99]

of the big city {h.j.} | track 2

©March 2023, February 2024 by lalal-99

Han Jisung x afab!reader | trope: slice of life, coming of age | word count: 6.9k

Synopsis: The one where uni starts and you meet some interesting people.

Check Chapter Overview for complete list of warnings

Note: The next chapters are gonna be much shorter, I promise. The overwork is going smoothly so far, I have the next chapter ready and will probably post beginning of next week. I also wrote two whole new chapters this week which I'm very proud of. I really hope I can finish this story this time around :)

Tumblr works on a reblog system. Please consider reblogging this post so that it can reach more people. Thank you :)

Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You!

“Baby? Do you have some paper for me?”

With an annoyed eye roll you ripped a page from your new notebook, smoothing over the edges of the torn binder. You pushed the single page over towards him with reluctance.

“You forgot your notebook on the first day already?”

And to think notebooks and pens were the main reason you had gone to the store yesterday.

“Don’t blame me. You know I’m not a morning person. And you didn’t want to wake me up with sex, so...” The smugness in his voice made you wonder if he actually thought he had won this discussion. You raised your eyebrows at him, hinting at the thinness the metaphorical ice on which he was walking.

You usually didn’t get annoyed that easy. If you had, your relationship sure as hell wouldn’t have lasted this long. The reason: Jisung and his lack of understanding social cues. To take the hint and not bother you any further when you were already frustrated, all it took was a look.

Although he wasn’t the reason for your irritation today. Or at least not the sole one.

It was the first day of university, so naturally, you were a little on edge. Whatever happened from this day on would decide over the paths your life took in the future. It was a step you had waited so long to take but dreaded all the same. Jisung, as your loving boyfriend, should have known how much this meant to you.

Sometimes, you speculated if he did it on purpose. Rile you up when you were anxious to give you something to put your focus on instead. His intentions might have been sweet, but this wasn’t taking any tension off your shoulders. Jisung forgetting his notebook and blaming you for it, even as a joke, could have likely been the last straw.

“Baby?” As you looked back at him, you noticed his cute pout. It was almost cute enough to make you forget what you had been so annoyed about a minute earlier. “Do you also have a spare pen? And some highlighters would be nice, too.”

Shaking your head at Jisung, you let out a snort. So he hadn’t forgotten just his notebook, but his pen and highlighter too? Got it. Very unwillingly, you handed him the items. You thankfully always had a spear set in case of emergency. Or, in this case, your boyfriend’s scatterbrain you had been dealing with for many years already.

“You have got to be kidding me.” He blew you a playful kiss, thanking you for your service. “Don’t let this become a habit. I’m not piggybacking you through university as I did in High School. Understood?”

As much as you loved him, Jisung had his fair share of annoyances. Like his living-in-the-moment type of attitude. A contrast to your thoroughly organised persona, you usually appreciated your differences. Without his Yin, your Yang wouldn’t shine as bright and vice versa.

That still didn’t change that you wouldn’t be his personal secretary this time around.

Jisung was old enough to care for himself and not rely on his girlfriend for every one of his needs. Whether it was some paper and pens, your skillfully crafted cue cards, or an all-nighter before one of his final exams. How ever you had talked him into studying for that one anyways.

“I love you, too.”

If he only weren’t so damn cute.

Out of pure principle you ignored his comment with an unintentional snicker. You continued your draft outline on your first notebook page—your attempt of getting a head start on future lecture notes—thus almost missing the voice chatting up Jisung.

“I’m taking you won’t be sleeping in the dorm a lot, will you?”

The depth of the second voice made you look up from your notebook. As the light shone into the room from behind the boy, it almost blinded you. Once your eyes got used to the brightness, you could finally make out a lean figure. He set a reusable coffee cup on the desk next to Jisung before sliding onto the wooden chair.

The boy was clad in comfortable attire, loose hanging jeans paired with a simple t-shirt. His long, blonde hair messily framed his face, a green beanie rounding off his skater-boy look. Something told you he had more to himself than what his cover showed. The several silver rings on his fingers could have been the reason for your suspicion. Or it was how he carried himself—a perfect line leading from his soles to the tip of his head. In exact contradiction to your boyfriend’s slouching posture.

“Morning to you too, sunshine.” The smirk in Jisung’s tone indicated his playfulness and a sense of closeness. “Why do you care? You’re not in love with me, are you?”

“No,” the boy scoffed, his bag placed neatly under the table. “I just wondered if I can stop waiting up for you or if I will have to identify your corpse at some point.”

Looking past Jisung, the boy noticed your presence, sending you a heart-warming smile. The freckles all over his nose and cheeks juxtaposed the darkness of his voice and over-all looks. Something about his aura relaxed you, his company drenching his atmosphere in happiness.

“Hi, I’m Felix!”

“I’m Y/N. I’m Jisung’s-”

“Girlfriend. Yeah, I know. He talks about you a lot.”

Jisung leaned in closer to you, though he kept his voice at the same volume, “Be careful, baby. He’s very much in love with me already. I might leave you for him.”

“You can have him.” You leaned past your boyfriend, directly addressing Felix. “But make sure to always have a spare pen and paper. And also a spare pair of pants.” The scene from earlier this morning came back to mind, a teasing look creeping onto your face. “He might say he can care for himself, but he will wear your leggings and pink baby-girl crop top when there’s no alternative.”

“Good to know,” Felix replied with a deep chuckle, amused by the picture you had painted. He ran his hands through his blonde hair, showing off his ears and all the piercings. Okay, so, definitely not a skater-boy-type.

“You might be joking now.” Jisung threw a know-all look in your direction. “But you won’t be laughing when I wear your fishnets to your grandpa’s next birthday.”

“Don’t you dare put on my fishnets! They were expensive.”

“That’s alright. We’re about the same size, so he can wear mine.” Felix’s words came unexpected and not even Jisung couldn’t conceal his amusement.

“Great, there’s two of you now. Is it too late to drop out?”

In all the years you had known him, Jisung rarely ever made friends this easy. Not even a week on campus, and he had gotten close enough to Felix to joke in his usual manner. How they had even gotten this close when Jisung had spent most of the day at your place was a mystery to you. Still, the little time they had spent together was enough to have discovered a mutual hobby—catching Pokémon. As they argued over who had found the rarest creature, you picked up your previous task. Though that didn’t stop your joy in finding that Jisung had made a friend. And a nice one at that.

You felt guilty for even thinking it, but Jisung had never been particularly good at making friends. Not before meeting you and not afterwards either.

Most of all, you blamed the lack of a ‘do not say’-filter in his conversational skills. His openness posed an obstacle to making new acquaintances—or at least it had many times before. After years of getting side-eyed or complained about, he had stopped talking to new people all together. Like he already expected the sole attempt to make connection to backfire. The few relationships he had formed despite his shyness had been pure luck. And your very own relationship only existed due to your perseverance.

That Jisung had already befriended Felix, at least as much as possible in three days, put you in a bright mood. One of your biggest fears about moving was your boyfriend rooming with someone he didn’t get along with. With someone as talkative and easily compatible as Felix, Jisung would likely not be clinging to you as much. Which wouldn’t have been the worst scenario, but still.

With every passing minute the lecture hall filled more. When something sharp scratched your shin, your head finally snapped towards one of the new-comers. A blonde girl had sat down next to you, and you found the culprit when you noticed her pink heels.

“Oh my God. Did I hit you? I’m so sorry.” Her hand came to her mouth in shock as she apologised a couple of times. You rubbed over the sensitive skin which was already bruising from when you had hit that crate of boxes yesterday. Talk about unfortunate accidents. You pushed the urge to groan at the pain down, forcing a smile onto your face instead. “It’s those dang heels. I knew I should have worn the sneakers today.”

“It’s fine. Surprised me, that’s all.” Embarrassment reached over her cheeks to her ears, a frown painting her face. “No worries.”

For a few seconds she hesitated but finally accepted your willingness to let it go. Out of the corner of your eye, you followed her as she unloaded the contents of her purse. She pulled out a torn notepad and a vintage-leather pencil case, which must have seen better days. She reached back into her designer bag, face distraught as her search came up empty.

She tried grabbing the attention of two boys on her right side, tied deep into their conversation. When she eventually realised she had no other option, her gaze tiptoed towards you. “Sorry to bother you again.” Teeth nibbling at her lip, she forced herself to get over her embarrassing mistake seconds earlier. “Do you have a pen I can borrow?”

Even if your shin had hurt worse, you would have still helped her out. With a genuine smile, you nodded, searching your pencil case and then your bag.

“I wanted to grab one before leaving my room, but I noticed a stain on my shirt and needed to change it. So, I forgot about the pen,” the girl recounted her morning ventures. “I’m so sorry for bothering you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” you assured her. Your smile turned to an apologetic scowl once you realised you couldn’t help her out after all. “I’m sorry. I always carry at least one extra pen, but scatterbrain next to me left his head in bed this morning.”

“You talking ‘bout me?”

Jisung, who you hadn’t expected to react to the mention of his unflattering nickname, turned to you.

“Hey, Felix,” you called the boy two seats from yours, ignoring your boyfriend. “Do you happen to have a spare pen?”

“Sure. I always carry an extra one in case.”

“Interesting. So, some people do use their heads before leaving the house.” It was a reproachful remark addressed to Jisung and his forgetfulness, and he caught the meaning.

“Some people do use their heads before leaving the house,” he scrunched his nose, teasing you by mimicking your voice and repeating your previous words as you snickered. Your perfect boyfriend, everyone.

Felix handed the pen from his jacket past you, the girl accepting it with a thankful smile.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“I usually go by Felix. But lifesaver is good, too.”

The girl giggled, before introducing herself, “I’m Yuqi. I live in the student housing off campus. You know, the ones next to that coffee shop with the green doors. It’s open 24/7. Genius marketing move, right?” Biting her lip after that info dump, you noticed her nose doing a little scrunch. “Sorry. I talk a lot.”

“I haven’t noticed,” Jisung joked, your elbow gracing his rib at his sarcasm. You wondered if there would ever come a day you didn’t have to act as his personalised filter.

“Don’t listen to the idiot next to me,” you declared, “I find it charming.”

“Me, too,” Felix agreed, and Yuqi relaxed. It told you that she usually didn’t get that reaction when spraying words like a waterfall.

“I live in the same building.”

Excitement took over her features. “What? No way! Which room?”

“B4.”

Yuqi shrieked, her hand touching your arm, “I’m B12! That makes us floormates.”

“I guess it does.” Yuqi was the first person you met who lived in the same building that wasn’t your roommate or her girlfriend. “I’m Y/N. And this,” you thumbed back at your boyfriend, “this is Jisung.”

“Hi,” he greeted her with an awkward wave.

“Nice to meet you all.”

With that, Yuqi picked up her purse, pulling out an old folder. Well, it appeared to be rather new, but the edges were already torn, some of the plastic cover coming off the corners. The latter especially gave you an ick, and you forcefully pushed down the urge to smooth over them. You could handle some chaos, even if this was a lot.

Good thing, Yuqi spoke up again, giving something different to concentrate on.

“What’s your major?”

“I’m doing Business Admin.” Before you could return the question, Yuqi already reacted, hand touching your biceps in excitement.

“No freakin’ way! I’m in Marketing.” The delight in her voice was addictive as you couldn’t help a grin pulling on your lips. “See, I even wore the perfect outfit for our first lecture later today.”

Yuqi leaned back, giving you a better look at her clothing.

She was in a pair of white jeans, a rosé-coloured blouse adorning the upper half of her lean figure. A single, thin gold necklace decorated her neckline, fitting the two golden earrings. The one thing that stood out in that well-rounded outfit was her other earrings. About a dozen of them decorated both ears from the dainty top to the slim bottom. To round the fit off, she wore a pair of light-pink high heels. The very same that had already made acquaintance with your shin.

“Pretty, right?”

“Very girlboss,” you agreed in earnest. Your own clothes contrasted her colourful optics, made up of mostly black items.

“I’m so glad I’m not the only girl in the classes.” There was a hint of playful disgust in her statement, making you chuckle. “All the other people I met who are in Business were boys. Not that boys are bad or anything. I love boys. But they can be—a lot.”

“I get it. I lived with three boys back home. Well, technically, my dad is a man,” you air-quoted, “but where’s the difference, right?” Yuqi chuckled. “It’s nice to have a girl around every once in a while.”

Yuqi reached for her coffee cup as her gaze wandered to the grey haired middle-aged man who entered the room. He walked up to the desk at the end of the hall, his briefcase landing on the table with a loud thud.

With that, you straightened up, pen in hand and ready to take notes the second your prof opened his mouth.

05:23 PM: Hey, are you studying in the dorm tonight?—Y/N 05:25 PM: No. The place is all yours :)—Hwasa 05:25 PM: Is lover boy coming over again ;)—Hwasa 05:26 PM: He’s hanging out with his roommate tonight... Bonding. I’m thinking about inviting a friend over. I met her at orientation earlier this week—Y/N 05:27 PM: Sounds fun—Hwasa 05:27 PM: Anything special planned?—Hwasa 05:27 PM: Not yet. Maybe eat something and a movie? Explore the city?—Y/N 05:28 PM: You wanna explore this bar Joey’s? I’m meeting some friends there later. Happy Hour starts at 8—Hwasa 05:29 PM: You sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude—Y/N 05:29 PM: I told you I’d be taking you out one of these days—Hwasa 05:30 PM: Texting you the address right now!—Hwasa

Stepping through the dark wooden doors, a wall of warmth hit you like a thick blanket.

It had gotten colder the past few days, fall beginning to hit the city. You took off your scarf, looking around the place in search of the familiar, pretty face.

This place seemed to be the city’s hotspot, every table packed to full capacity. Red velveteen clad the round tables right by the entrance, the seating options becoming wider once you reached the back. Couches fanned out in random patterns all over the dark oak floor. The furniture’s vintage finish further accented the brown parquet.

You felt like you had stepped straight into a movie scene.

The wave of a dainty hand over the crowd’s heads caught your attention as you spotted your roommate in the back. You grabbed Yuqi by the hem of her sleeve, dragging her behind you as you made your way to the group of girls with a smile.

“Hello,” you greeted the table once you had gotten close enough for them to see you.

Hwasa hugged you in bliss, almost tipping over the drink in front of her, “Hi! I’m so glad you could make it.” As she noticed Yuqi, she pulled her in for another warm embrace, “Nice to meet you! I’m Hwasa.”

“Yuqi,” your friend replied, joy written on her face at the enthusiastic welcome.

Knowing Hwasa and her usual calm persona, you knew she must have already taken full advantage of Happy Hour.

“Nice to meet you.” You introduced yourself to the two unfamiliar faces, sending Wheein a quick nod as she met it with a smile.

The two girls with your roommate and her girlfriend couldn’t have been much older than them. The first had straight black hair reaching the bottom of her back, at least from what you could tell. The other sported a short grey bob. It highlighted her sharp jaw in what you could only describe as a tomboy-ish look. Like Wheein and Hwasa, they were beautiful and made you somewhat self-conscious. You shouldn’t have come here unprepared, or put on mascara, at least.

First to introduce herself was the black-haired girl, her smile almost blinding you. “Hi, I’m Solar.”

An extraordinary name for an extraordinary beautiful person. Fitting. In your mind, there was no doubt she made people of any gender fall in love with her the moment she stepped into a room. Her calm, almost carefree aura was truly something else.

“And I’m Byul.” She was just as pretty, though in a less traditional sense. A boyish charm surrounded her, though her blazer hinted at a seriousness to her person. She looked—important.

You introduced yourself and Yuqi, pulling out the two remaining chairs. They must have fought off several people to reserve these. “Are you students, too?”

“We used to be,” Solar explained as she emptied her tulip-coloured drink.

The girls seemed to have stocked up on various drinks; more glasses than people were at the table. If the drinks were half as good as they looked, you’d be in for a long night.

“We graduated last year,” the black-haired beauty continued, bumping shoulders with Hwasa. “I used to be Hwasa’s roommate, actually.”

“I didn’t even notice!” Hwasa giggled, thus proving your assumption about the amount of alcohol consumed before your arrival. “She’s my ex, and you’re my next.”

You chuckled in amusement, reaching for the menu at the edge of the table. The faux leather was soft beneath your fingertips as you skimmed over the Happy Hour options. When your eyes landed on your favourite drink, a smile spread on your lips as you handed the menu over to Yuqi.

“They have Long Island Ice Tea in three different flavours?” Yuqi exclaimed, the scenic buzz of this place rubbing off on her. Not that she wasn’t this emotional about almost anything. “Would it be very immature to try them all tonight?”

“Not at all. I am browsing through the new offers myself. We can get drunk together.”

Not a fair fight. Hwasa had already gotten a head start.

You called over the waiter by raising your hand, and he headed for your table not a minute later. He raised an unintentional eyebrow at the consumption level—One Mojito, three Long Island Ice Teas and another Piña Colada and Gin Tonic. Even so, the boy sent you a smile, spinning around and wandering back to the bar.

Once he was gone, Hwasa swiftly emptied her previous drink. All it took was one strong sip through her straw, and the Tonic and ice was gone. The coldness reached her brain soon after, prompting her eyes to grow wider—like those of a comic-book figure.

“Babe, you should slow down,” Wheein suggested with a chuckle. But her girlfriend waved her off.

“I’m fine. Also, I don’t have any courses tomorrow, so I have the whole day to sleep off that hangover I’ll be having.”

“Great. I’ll remind you when you’re hugging the toilet seat later.”

“I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Mhm.” Wheein didn’t seem uber-convinced Hwasa would keep her promise but let it go anyways.

As the girls went back to their previous conversation, you tried your best to follow them.

You understood that Solar was passed over for a big promotion at her job and that she was convinced, her boss was sleeping with her opponent.

“What do you do for work?” Yuqi’s question took the words right out of your mouth.

“I am an assistant buyer at a small fashion label,” Solar explained, making you look at Hwasa in surprise.

“Don’t you also study fashion?” Taking a sip from her already empty glass, she nodded in silence. You frowned when you noticed her uncomfortable look at Wheein following your words. There must have been some form of backstory, and the last thing you wanted was to make things awkward. Instead you attempted correcting your mistake. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”

Passing a few glances around the table, Byul finally spoke up. “Our cutie Hwasa here used to study Chemistry full-time. She developed a small crush on Solar in her second year, so, she changed majors to spend more time with her.”

It took a moment to dawn on you why Wheein and Hwasa had reacted the way they did.

“Yes, but I hadn’t met my love then.” Hwasa bobbed her girlfriend’s nose, pouting to cheer her up. After a few seconds, Wheein couldn’t stop her frown from turning into a giggle. They were just the cutest.

“You’re a little drunk, aren’t you?”

“Drunk of love!”

“I stand corrected. You’re absolutely hammered.”

Playfully nudging her girlfriend, Wheein relaxed, emptying her own drink. Non-alcoholic, from what you had gathered.

“Anyways, since Solar is into boys only—”

“Men,” Solar interrupted her friend with a sigh. “I stopped dating boys a long time ago. They never know where to put things.”

“Sorry, since Solar is into men only,” Byul corrected, her eyes meeting yours again, “that didn’t work out. Now Hwasa is stuck with fashion. She met Wheein not too long after.”

“That’s right!”

The enthusiasm in her reaction made Hwasa finally tip over her glass. The melted ice cubes went all over the table, the cool liquid running down the sides. Some of it landed on your jeans, so while Hwasa apologised profusely, you called over the waiter a second time in five minutes.

A moment later, the young man rushed over with your drinks, handing you a towel to dry yourself. It didn’t go by you that his gaze focused on you for a few extra beats, but you ignored it. Your returned the now moist towel with kindness and he left with a light blush.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice that.” Solar’s caught your attention by the touch of her hand as she nodded towards the waiter.

“Notice what?”

“That the waiter was flirting with you,” she explained, looking around the table. “You noticed too, didn’t you?”

Byul agreed, “Sure did.”

“You’re not one of those girls who are, like, super slow on cues, right?” You chuckled at her question, shaking your head.

“No, I noticed, too.”

The confusion on the beauty’s face made you chuckle a little. “So what, then? He’s cute. Get his number.”

“Nah, I’m good.” You waived her off, taking a sip from your fresh drink. The rum burned down your throat, the lime juice and sugar adding a bittersweet taste to it. “Also, I don’t think my boyfriend would be particularly happy with me asking other men for their number.”

If everyone’s focus hadn’t been on you already, it sure was now.

“You have a boyfriend?”

“Very much so, yes.”

Solar seemed surprised by the information.

“Is it serious? I mean, you obviously shouldn’t cheat on him. But you are at university. If you don’t explore and get to know yourself now, when will you get another chance?”

You took another sip to ease the discomfort from being the center of attention. Not exactly where you usually were. “We’ve been together for five years. I’d say that’s pretty serious.” That did the trick, her mouth now agape in shock. She leaned in closer to you, cradling her chin in her palm.

“Five years? So, you’re High School Sweet Hearts?”

“Middle School, actually.”

“Is he any hot?” Yuqi interrupted, also leaning in further. How your relationship had become the talk of the whole table had gone right by you.

“What do you mean? You met him at orientation. He sat right next to me.”

“No way! That’s your boyfriend?” You hummed, agreeing. “But you called him dumbass like 5 times in one hour.”

“I did, but it’s more a term of endearment. I call Jisung dumbass; he calls me stupid. It’s a whole thing.”

As soon as you had cleared that up, Solar was back at it, hitting you with question after question.

“Wait, but like, for real. You’ve never been with anyone else since Middle School?”

You shook your head, correcting her statement. “I’ve never been with anyone else ever.”

Usually, you never talked about yourself and your relationship this much. You were rather private in that sense, though, you also understood their curiosity. It wasn’t every day that you met someone who had been with the same person since they were 14. You understood the length of your relationship was uncommon for someone your age.

“So, he’s your first boyfriend?”

“Yup.”

“So, you never kissed anyone else? Had sex with anyone else?” Byul further interrogated, now also fully invested in your love life. That you had only met the girls maybe 20 minutes ago seemed irrelevant. Not like you hadn’t seen that question coming sooner or later.

You agreed with a nod. “I never wanted anyone else.”

“How do you even maintain a relationship for that long?” Yuqi budded in again, her focus different from the older women’s. “My longest relationship lasted 4 months, and then I got tired of him.” For some reason, her statement made so much sense to you. Yuqi definitely needed constant excitement to fill her heart. “What’s your secret.”

You thought about it before answering shortly, “Shared trauma, maybe?” When no one laughed at your words, you backtracked. Your honesty might have been too much for them after all. “That was a joke. Obviously. We have a lot in common and went through similar stuff in life.”

It became quiet for a few seconds, though you sensed that Solar was holding back. Whatever she might have had dancing on the tip of her tongue, she took her sweet time wording it in her pretty head.

“Please, don’t take this the wrong way.” Always a great way to start a sentence. “If the shoe fits, tie that bitch up. But you’re in college now. This is your time to explore your interests—your options. No one comes out of college the way they go in. It’s a life-changing experience.”

“So, I should cheat on my boyfriend, is what you’re saying?” You started getting a little defensive now that your love life appeared to be under attack. All the attention got uncomfortable as much as you understood where it was coming from.

“That’s not what I was saying at all.” Some of the tension fell from your shoulders. “I’m saying people change. So, don’t be surprised if your boyfriend and you don’t work out.” Still not the direction you wanted this conversation to go. But Solar continued anyway. “Take Byul, for example.”

Solar leaned back, her hand coming to her friend’s shoulder.

“Byul started college, wanting to become a lawyer.” Byul nodded, agreeing. Her blazer somehow made more sense now. “She finished her degree and opened her own music production studio not two months later. And Hwasa—” With that, Solar went on to your roommate, who threw her a playful wink. “The first year of college, she cycled between so many partners, we were certain, she’d end up pregnant or with an STD. And look at her now.”

From how lovingly Hwasa was gazing at Wheein, there was no doubt in your mind that she had happily moved on from those days.

“And when Wheein started college,” Solar continued her list, “she was straight as a ruler. Do you see what I’m saying?”

“I do.”

And it was the truth. You understood that most people used college to find their path in life. The women around you were the best example for it. All four of them had found their place in the world, who they wanted to be, through university. You didn’t doubt that whatever had happened to them was necessary for them to grow into the women they were today.

At the same time, you knew your life better than anyone else at this table. You remembered every little thing you had gone through together, with Jisung. You understood how his mind worked. What he struggled with and how to get him through it emotionally—you had witnessed most of it with your own eyes.

And there was nothing one-sided about it either. There was no doubt in your mind that the same went for Jisung. He knew you like the palm of his hand—and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I’m still very sure we are not gonna break up.”

“I hope you don’t.” Yuqi finally came to your rescue, cutting the tensive atmosphere. “He’s adorable.”

Thankfully, Solar accepted it as the end of story. She sat back as Yuqi diverted the conversation from you to Byul, asking her about her work at the studio. You calmed down as the centre of attention drew from you and towards the ins and outs of the music industry. When Hwasa playfully bumped her shoulder into yours, you looked up at her. A teasing wink showcased her support and affection. And probably her drunkenness.

“Sorry about her. Solar can be very straightforward, but she has a good soul. She’s a realist, and very openly so.”

“It’s alright,” you told her, taking your glass and a huge sip of your Mojito. “I know most relationships at our age don’t last. But we’re solid as a rock. It’d need a tsunami to separate us.”

You hoped the rest of the night would go a little less awkward than this. Though, as the alcohol ultimately entered your system, you soon forgot about the whole conversation.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

A second later Hwasa bent over the nearest bush.

“What happened?”

“She got sick,” you explained the situation as you used your hair tie to fixate Hwasa’s long locks behind her neck. “You good?”

Hwasa wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and nodded as she stumbled towards the housing entrance. Wheein supported her other side, the two of you exchanging concerned looks.

“Is she gonna be alright?”

“I think so. It usually takes a glass of water and an aspirin, and she’ll be back to her old self.” You didn’t doubt Wheein knew how her girlfriend usually handled alcohol. “I’m gonna take her to my room to make sure. It’s closer to the bathroom, and I don’t have a roommate she could disturb.”

“You have a single room?” Yuqi questioned in surprise. Her enthusiasm after midnight was still higher than yours had been all evening. “Man, I should become dorm supervisor next year.”

“It has its perks.”

Yuqi took over once you had reached your room, holding up Hwasa so they could lead her to her girlfriend’s room.

“Good night. Call me if you need help,” you told Wheein, who nodded thankfully.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” After Yuqi had bidden her goodbye, you turned to your door, entering the four-digit code to unlock it.

Once inside, you rid yourself of your shoes, turning the lights on as you set your bag down by your dresser.

A groan came from your bed, making you jump and stumble back against the wooden cupboard. Your blanket moved at the disturbance, a bulge the size of a grown person appearing underneath it. It took a mop of familiar brown hair to calm you as you realise that not an intruder had overtaken your bed.

“Dang it! Jisung, you creep! You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Noticing the tired haze in his eyes, you strolled over to him. You slid next to his torso as your hand reached for his chubby cheek, grazing his skin. It woke him up, your action met with a sigh and his head leaning comfortably against your palm.

Under the blanket, you noticed his shirt, which didn’t even begin to cover his bulging biceps. It took you a moment to recognise why it didn’t fit him like his other clothes usually did.

“Are you wearing my crop top again?” Amusement laced your tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You almost didn’t understand him, his vague mumbling blurrier than typical. He must have been asleep for a while.

“What are you doing here? I thought you wanted to hang out with Felix tonight.” You took out your earrings, neatly placing them on the small nightstand by your bed. “What happened to bonding with your roomie?”

“We hung out for four hours,” he explained with a yawn. “Then I came over because I missed you.”

Running your hand down the side of his face, he grabbed it as soon as he could reach it. He brought it to his lips to give your skin a quick peck.

“Now, come to bed, so we can sleep.”

“I need to get changed and brush my teeth first.”

“I can help you get out of your clothes. And I don���t care if your breath stinks.”

“I care.” You got off your bed to rush through your evening routine so you could fall into your love’s arms already. Yet, your intentions were rudely interrupted. “What the heck!”

Before you could take a step, Jisung’s arm snapped out from beneath your blanket, pulling you back. You couldn’t react fast enough as he dragged you into a lying position next to him, still fully clothed.

“See? I don’t care.”

“What about the light?”

Lifting his head off your pillow, he grabbed the tissue box from your nightstand and tossed it at the light switch. You didn’t know when he had suddenly learned to aim, but it hit smack-bang in the middle, shutting off all the light in your room.

“I gotta admit, that was impressive.”

“Now, let’s get you out of those clothes.”

You giggled as he effortlessly opened the button and zipper of your pants and dragged them down your legs. He tossed them towards the end of the bed, to be dealt with tomorrow. Next was your top, which he swiftly brought over your head, throwing it to join the rest of your clothes.

“If you only cleaned as quick as you undress me.”

“Everybody has their own forté.” You snickered at his words, closing the gap between you. “I could also be way quicker than that. We haven’t had sex in a week. Right now, your clothes are my nemesis.”

The heat of his body caught you in a warm hug, “A week already, huh?”

“8 days and 7 hours, to be exact. But who’s counting?” His arm came around you, scooting you closer so your back pressed flat against his chest.

“You wanna reset that clock?”

“Nah,” he brushed your suggestion off. “I’m way too tired to have sex right now.”

“Tomorrow then?”

“About that.” His hot breath fanned over your neck. “I know it’s date night, but there’s this party I was invited to. I thought we could go to that instead.”

“A party?” It was the first week of university. How had your introverted boyfriend already been invited to a party? You should have probably seen the answer coming. “Whose?”

“I think you know.”

Of course, you knew. How could you not when his parties had been legendary even back in the day? Though, until now, you had suppressed his present at this campus all together. His being the one who shalln’t be named.

You thought about Jisung’s suggestion for a second.

Sure, a party would intervene with your bi-weekly date night. And, on top of that, it was organised by someone, you didn’t know how to approach after everything that had gone down. But this was university, after all. And, as Solar had said before: University is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. So, why the heck shouldn’t you go to a party?

“So? What do you say?”

“Fine.” Jisung’s previously unbothered expression turned into a smile as he grazed his lips to your neck. “Just... Don’t tell your sister we’re going. I’m not sure she would appreciate us hanging out with her ex.”

“Lying to my sister? Who are you, and what did you do to my girlfriend?” A yawn hit your ear, your face scrunching at the unwanted ASMR session. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

As Jisung slipped into a deep slumber, your mind raced through the events of your day. It usually did at the end of the day, your mind too tired to do anything productive but too awake to rest. The silence around you allowed you to remember an earlier text message you never got to answer.

Pulling your arm out of your boyfriend’s iron hold on your body, you reached for your phone on the nightstand.

Your dad had sent you a voice message about three hours earlier when you had still been at the bar. You pushed the play button and brought the phone to your ear to not disturb Jisung’s beauty sleep. By all means, he needed it. Or so he said.

“Hi, honey. It’s dad. I hope you had a lovely day and aren’t studying too hard already.” You smiled at his words, knowing it was one of his biggest hopes for you to get some time to yourself. “Remember what I told you when you left? Live a little!” A pause as he was seemingly picking up something from the ground. “I just wanted to ask when you were coming home Friday. I’m planning brunch with you two and Jia, so if you could be here by noon, that’d be great.”

Friday was the day after tomorrow. You hadn’t forgotten you’d be going back home for the weekend, but you sure hoped the party tomorrow wouldn’t keep you up all night. If you had to be home by noon, you’d have to leave campus by ten. And after a party, like you expected this one to be, you prayed you and a certain someone wouldn’t be too hungover.

“Anyways, sleep tight, and have a lovely night. We miss you!”

A second voice appeared in the background, not too far from your father’s, and your heart skipped a happy beat. The words were harder to make out as he was munching on an apple, cereal, or something else crunchy.

Still, there wouldn’t come a day you wouldn’t understand his babbling.

“Come home soon, please! Mhpf—I miss you, mommy.”

With a loving smile plastered on your face, you replied with a heart emoji. After such a perfect goodnight-messaged, you’d be sleeping like a stone tonight.

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[januaryembrs]

LAST KNIGHT IN SOHO | Steven Grant/Marc Spector x reader [10]

Description: Marc finds out the truth about Dove, and pays the mortal price.

Word count: 12.6k

Trigger Warnings: okay so; HEAVY TRIGGER for drug use and overdose/ accidental suicide. guns. blood. gore. abusive relationship. poverty. HEAVY ON THE ANGST PEOPLE. suggestive tones in parts.

authors note: I'm sorry this has taken forever and a day to post, I had planned to upload on valentines day however life got in the way in every way it possibly could and so this got put on hold for few days, I hope that's okay! enjoy!!

main masterlist | series masterlist

“Boys, get down here. Dinner’s going cold.” She called up the stairs, her voice already that of a tired mother. Mathew practically skidded past her bounding down the stairs, god knows that boy knew how to eat, even if the parsnips were stone cold he would still devour them whole, “Where’s Mikey?” She yelled after him, her tattered apron tied around her waist, greasy fingerprints dragged down the whites. 

“In his room,” Joey said, his bulky glasses deep in his new crossword book, “Nine down, a second chance at life?” 

His sister looked up the stairs worried, her natural expression whenever Mikey wasn’t under her constant watch, before she met his gaze, adjusting fake pearls around her neck. 

“Huh?” 

“Second chance at life. Nine letters.” He repeated, scratching the light smattering of facial hair he had only just been able to grow. He felt her fingers deftly begin to fix the tie around his collar, the golden fairy lights wrapped around the bannister illuminating where her red nail polish chipped around the edges. 

“After life?” She guessed, straightening his shirt out for him, fussing like she had always done. He shook his head, wincing as she screeched over his shoulder into the dining room. “MATHEW, PUT THE ROAST POTATOES BACK- THOSE ARE FOR EVERYONE,” She tutted under her breath. Sometimes he forgot she was only seventeen. “Sam, can you get the stuffing out the oven,”

A grunt of agreement from the second boy, before a six foot tall, moody boy shuffled past the open door with bumblebee oven mitts on which took every ounce of attitude out of him. 

“One word,” Joe said, his eyes flicking over to the vinyl player that stuttered on its eighth run through of ‘Fairytale of New York’. 

The tinsel she’d braided into her hair rustled, eyes identical to his own watching his mouth quirk in thought. 

“You’re supposed to be the genius of the family,” She teased, her finger nudging under his chin affectionately before she released him, pecking his forehead as he passed her to go take a seat at the table. She fussed some more over the baubles hanging from the tree on her way to the kitchen, straightening out the few stragglers, her pruning fingertips brushing over the fleece blankets covering the back of the sofa, as if she needed to feel their home to remind her where she was, “How about Migration?” 

“Good, but it ends in T,” He called out to her, watching his eldest brother look up guiltily where he had a dollop of mash on a spoon, his mouth already full.

It seemed their sister caught onto his greed as she sharply smacked him over the back over the head, ripping the spoon from his hand, “Pig,” She spit at him, not that it seemed to phase him too much as his eyes already set on the small beef loin, the fat dripping off the plate tenderly, “I’m going to get Mikey. Resurrect?”

His eyes lit up at the suggestion, scribbling it down in his book. The cinnamon candle burnt strongly in the centre of the table, warm and spicy, just how Christmas should smell. 

It didn’t negate the fact they had all had to go easy on showers for the week, or that the house was freezing at night or that it was obvious all of their “Fancy day” clothes smelled like a charity shop. 

Joseph was only thirteen and already he’d noticed how exhausted his sister seemed every day. He’s stopped thinking about it so much, seeing as she’d always been that way, but the drain on her body was clear as anything nowadays. 

Joey was just a kid, but so was she. 

It wasn’t long before the final two of their little family came traipsing down the stairs, Mikey’s hand tight in his sister’s. At twelve years old, he was still a dot of a boy, scrawny, practically all ribs she would say, and he was a weepy one too. It wasn’t a surprise the kids at school were so cruel, even their own father, when he bothered to drag himself home from the pub or his friends’ sofas, would say the fire had died out a little more with every kid that came out of his ex-wife. His sister was so fierce she could melt the world’s core if she wanted to, Joey was convinced of it. Matt simply was untouchable despite the kids at school taking digs at him just as often as they did Mikey, as if he knew from birth he was getting out of this hell hole, that he was made for better than this. Children could sniff out the ones among them that were struggling like a cadaver dog onto a corpse, and once they latched on they rarely let go. Then was Sammy, and well, one look at him and he spoke for himself. At fifteen he was already broad enough that the kids picking on Mike turned to deadly silence when he was around; grumpy as a mule, cold as their mother, a boy with a bitter face. His sister would rub her thumb over the scowl that marred his brow, trying to flatten the crack where his nose met his forehead, where the anger seemed to settle. She hated seeing them upset; had the unshakable need to fix them. 

Joey was her smart boy, trying to fly under the radar and cause her less anguish than he saw the rest of the boys gave her. He thought sometimes, when she would come home at 2am in her clothes from the club, bruises on her arms, when she would make them both a cup of tea and help him with homework, he thought then that he might even be her favourite. They all vied for her attention, only her and Matthew even remembered their mother, it only made sense that she was the next best thing for her boys. 

But she was more than just a stand in for their mom. She was their everything, even with the fights over who was doing laundry, the yelling between her and Sammy when she would have to pick him up from the station for the nth time that month for petty thievery, even when Matt started wolfing down a rogue handful of carrots that had fallen onto the dinner table and she had all but dragged him by the ear into the kitchen to go get them drinks. 

They revelled in their little bubble, knowing the only thing they’d be given for free in this world was each other. 

And when they had finally sat down for christmas dinner, the smoke from the DIY Christmas crackers tiny Mikey had made lingering with a sulphur bite to their nose; when Sam flashed them all a rare laugh as she read out the terrible jokes hidden inside, the paper hats falling down over their eyes as they laughed, their full tummies hurting, plates polished of every scrap, Matt ofcourse eating the left over yorkshire puddings as if they were crisps. When they’d sat in front of the TV that only had four channels and a hefty video player underneath, Joey fiddled with the only film they ever bothered to watch on Christmas Day. 

The sepia scene met the soft orange of the fire she’d lit for them, every light besides the ones on the tree turned off for their movie. Joey and Mikey sat practically two inches from the screen, a somewhat stale bowl of popcorn passed between them. 

They watched in awed silence as Dorothy ran down the country lane, Toto at her heels, her auburn hair jumping behind her in bunches as she looked over her shoulder. 

Running away, always running away, same as she was every year they watched. 

“She isn’t coming yet, Toto. Did she hurt you?” Judy Gartland fawned over her pet, the gingham dress bunching around her knees. 

Worried, always worried. Always preening. Always fixing.  

And by the time the twister came to rip her away from her family and send her to Oz, the girl who wasn’t Dove just yet was already asleep on Sammy’s shoulder, the grumpy boy knocking his head against hers affectionately, silently, the crunching of popcorn and the slurping of an off brand Cola the only things that cut through the sound of the movie.

Unaware, naive to what was about to happen to her. 

—

Dove and Steven had a glint in their eyes that she was sure would never be wiped off as they walked beside one another, their pinky fingers clasped tightly together. 

He had a dopey look on his face, not even watching where they were going as he stared at her side profile, seeing the warmth meeting her eyes for the first time in a while. Her cheeks were starting to hurt from the smiling, biting her bottom lip like she had a secret. 

She would glance back at him every so often, only to see him already staring, his brown eyes softer than a cup of hot chocolate, swirling with adoration and melting at the sight of her meeting his gaze. 

After the fourth or fifth time, she reached up to brush her nose gently, “Do I have something on my face?” 

He didn’t even answer, he just pulled her in for another kiss, his free hand tugging at the fat of her hips, squeezing gently as he kissed her with a greed she felt high on. 

She held back a whine, the hands on her body kind and loving, overwhelming, invading, saturating her with something so entirely like home she felt her face run hot. 

She giggled into his mouth as he released her, her hands finding the sides of his neck, thumb running over either side of his jaw as she felt him smile under her touch. 

“Steven?” He seemed dazed, eyes never leaving her lips as she said his name again, giddy like his brain had malfunctioned and slowed, “Do I have anything on my face?” 

He mumbled something wordless, shaking his head slightly, looking back at her goofy smile as she waited for a real answer. As if it had only just caught up with him, his brow creased, meeting her eyes with a bit more clarity than before. 

“Huh?” He asked, to which she giggled and kissed him some more. She was sure her heart was pounding out of her ribs, and that he could hear it from how closely he was pressed to her front. 

“You’re staring, I thought I had something on my face,” She said, his nose brushing against hers as he dipped in to kiss the laugh lines of her cheeks, “Do I?” 

Steven shook his head, his gaze fanning over the entirety of her face and landing where he wanted her the most, back to her lips that smiled at him in content. 

“No, just,” He stopped himself from kissing her again, worrying he was smothering her, though some part of him knew she craved the touch as much as he did. She told him as much by the way her fingers intertwined in the root of his hair, pressing into him like a cat purring under his hand, “You make me really happy,”

Her throat bobbed, the smallest of tears springing to her eyes as she kissed him one last time. She wished she could meld her body to his, couldn’t wait for them to have a moment alone when she could take him fully if he would have her again. Truthfully, selfishly, she couldn’t give a damn about Harrow all that much anymore, her entire being hollow the moment she pulled away from him. He’d changed the epicentre of her world the moment she’d heard those three words. 

He loved her. 

She didn’t deserve it, but he loved her. 

Shuffling away from him, not entirely unaware of how his hand was reluctant to drop her waist, how his lips chased hers, how he seemed to pout when she put some distance between them. 

“You make me really happy too, Steven,” She said, her voice mellow and buttery, moving to hold his hand properly, the two of them setting off back to where Layla seemed to be fiddling with something from her backpack.

She knew she would never be good enough for him, that he deserved someone so much better, but it was difficult to hear the horrid thoughts that whirred around the abyss of her head when she heard him softly chuckle, smiling to himself as if he couldn’t believe the words out of her mouth. 

Sometimes it’s not about deserve. That’s what Marc had said. And maybe she could start believing him. Because it was Marc, and Marc knew everything. Marc would know what to say, know how to soothe the feeling of rot that threatened to ruin Steven’s sweet words, his soft kisses. 

Marc would fix it. Marc would understand. She was sure of it. 

��

“We’re going to belay down there,” Layla explained, securing the mountaineering rope to the clasp on her waist, tightening the notch and giving the cable an experimental tug. 

The two of them blanked, looking at one another in their own sets of gear that the woman had them step into with little explanation. 

“I think we should be right on time, Harrow shouldn’t be too far ahead of us-” Dove started, only to be cut off by the older woman with a scoff and an eye roll.

“Belay. It means we’re going to lower ourselves down using our own weight.” Dove’s face fell in embarrassment, smiling sheepishly as Layla shook her head with a hidden chuckle. 

“Right, got it.” She held her hands up, nudging Steven’s when she saw his smile widen, if that had even been possible, “Floor is yours,”

Layla hid her laugh with a cough, taking one confident step off the ledge and down into the tomb, the rope gently dropping her into the darkness. 

Dove and Steven watched with bated breath, the former leaning forwards to ensure she had reached the floor safely. Her eyes squinted, not seeing all too much other than the broken steps that would have once been functional, that were half buried in sand by now. 

“Be careful love,” She felt his fingers loop into her harness, keeping her safe even though they both knew she could survive the fall and much worse. 

She smiled, ready to reply when she saw a flash of Layla’s torch from below, and the woman’s face returned.

“Alright, it’s safe. Come down one at a time,” She instructed, the younger woman sticking a thumbs up at her and moving back into a hard chest where Steven hovered over her. 

“I’ll go first,” She said, reaching for the clip and tightening it to her harness the way Layla had. 

“Wait, shouldn’t I go first? Make sure it’s working properly?” Steven said, though his voice hardly matched the chivalry of his words. She smiled toothily at him, tugging on the rope once to set it in place. 

“Put it this way, honey. I can survive broken legs, but I need every bit of you to function or else I don’t know how I’m going to repay you,” It was new. It was flirty. She had a cheeky twinkle in her eye that reminded him she was able to be girlish and happy and tease him and call him honey and it all felt normal and he wanted more of it by the bucket load. He’d not seen her like this perhaps ever. He fell in love with her even more. He didn’t even think he could.

His mouth moved in an attempt to say something, his face tinging red at the implication of her words. 

“You don’t have to repay me,” He murmured, feeling her fingers loop through his belt, a heat to her gaze that had his skin prickling. 

“I know,” She pecked his lips one more time before they had to be parted even if it was only for a matter of a minute or two, “I just really want to,” She drew back when she heard his breath stutter, his cheeks growing all the more darker in their cherry red shade, and gripped the top of the rope the way she’d seen Layla do. 

“Ok-kay,” The man stammered, his palms sweating, nose tingling with heat. 

“See you in a minute,” She quipped with a deep breath for courage, stepping into the darkness as her body weight tugged against the rope. 

Her feet met the sand faster than expected, stumbling a moment before she steadied herself, fingers quickly undoing the harness that sat around her thighs and waist. 

Taking in the small entrance to the catacomb, she saw Layla crouched over the foot of a statue, her own torch clamped tightly in her grasp. Figuring she was conducting her own search, she chanced a look back up to where Steven’s dopey grin looked down at her, as if cartoonish pink hearts swirled around his head. 

“It’s safe!” She called up, as she fumbled with the latch around her harness, “Just need to get this off-”

The wind was knocked out of her as a body crashed into her own, two startled voices filling the cave, two hands pinning either side of her, landing on her back with a shooting pain through her brow. 

She groaned in unison with the heavy body atop her, feeling where his head had banged against hers. 

“Guess you could say I’m really falling for you,” Steven’s joke melded with a grunt as he pried himself off her, feeling Marc huff in annoyance from inside the head. 

“Huh?” Her voice was muddled, her face scrunched in pain. She barely heard what he said before he had stumbled to his knees, holding his hand out to lift her off the floor. 

“I said- Nothing- Sorry love,” Steven stuttered, his hand pawing at his aching temple, pulling the girl back to her feet, “Guess I just need a bit of practice at that Belay thing,” 

“A bit?” Layla scoffed, though she watched the pair with a hidden smirk, the bumbling mess of limbs as they dusted themselves off and unhooked their gear, “You okay?”

“I’m aces,” He said, turning to where Dove had dirt collecting in her hairline. Reaching a hand up to help her brush it away gently, he was distracted by the huge statue of big cat, most likely a lion, engraved into the stone, “Look at you,” He murmured breathlessly. 

It was her turn to warm under his brazen words, stilling her movements, fingertips rubbing away the traces of sand clinging to her clammy skin. 

She laughed with more shock than anything, though it sounded more like a choke, swallowing heavily as she braved to meet his gaze. 

Her brow furrowed as she flicked a glance over her shoulder at the artwork along the wall, untouched for hundreds of years, the paint lines a thick and dark umber red as if sketched only yesterday. 

Looking back to him, she crossed her fingers he hadn’t seen her flattered expression, knowing better than to be embarrassed around him yet she couldn’t deny those three words spread the heat back through her gut that he had satiated only moments earlier. 

Clicking her torch back on, she threw her attention away from those soft brown eyes, back to the sculpt of the lions, the stone cracking as chalky under their years of solitude, but striking nonetheless. 

“If they just sprang to life right now and asked me a riddle for passage, I’d be thrilled,” Steven said, his voice that of a boy at Christmas, “I’d shit myself, but I’d be thrilled,” 

Giggling behind besotted eyes, Dove moved to head further into the tomb, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw freshly drawn initials in the sand. 

Glancing back to where Layla seemed to shrink in demeanour, she gestured to the markings with her light, “Did you do these?” She asked, curious to her motives. 

“Yeah,” She cleared her throat, averting her eyes to the wall opposite them where vibrant blues and sunflower yellow strokes stared back, “Yeah it’s for my father. He would have loved to be here,”

“Big history buff is he?” Steven asked, the three of them setting off through the tunnel, leading them further into the crypt.

“So much worse,” The El-Faouly woman replied with a smile, falling into step with the duo, “Archeologist with a mission,”

They all breathed a laugh, the air stagnant and musky around them, the smell of a place only the dead seemed to know the past few thousand years. 

“And to him it was a dream worth dying for. And he did,” She went on, Dove’s face falling into solemn sorrow. She knew, if Layla was anything like she was, she would hate the idea of hearing an apology, would hate the idea of someone feeling sorry for her. She had barely been treading water the past day or two, fighting to stay in Layla’s good books, she feared if she were to show any remorse now it would only earn her a slap to the face. 

“Did he dig it?” She asked, her face forlorn and wary as she toed the boundary between their friendship. Casting a glance back at Layla and Steven, she gulped, “So history, you could say he dug it?” 

The light bulb went for both of them, Layla frowning with a defeated grin. 

“That was awful,” She playfully shoved the younger woman, who took it with no bother, smiling back in relief her joke had been taken kindly, “That was the worst-”

“I quite liked it,” Steven inputted helpfully, also earning a bash to the shoulder as Layla laughed. 

“Not a word from the two of you now unless it’s something useful,” She scolded, leading the way through the tightening corridor, the darkness encompassing them in something that felt like comradery. 

“Did you want to hear the one about the dinosaur’s dog-” Dove started, the words echoing around them as they headed further in, only to be stopped again by Layla’s softened voice. 

“Do-you-think-he-saurus rex!”

–

She stared at the house, the one she’d been born in, the light in her room long since switched out. She wouldn’t blame them if they’d taken over her room, it was the biggest one, though that wasn’t saying much. She could see it now, Mathew shotgunning the double bed the moment she left, there was more than enough room for Billie’s small cot next to him. She’d grabbed what she could the day Oz had taken her away, but she wouldn’t bat an eye if they’d sold the clothes she’d left, or even thrown them on the fire to stay warm. 

No, she wouldn’t blame them for erasing all memory of her. She’d been the one to leave, not them. As far as they knew, she’d not made contact whatsoever. Her letters had never been sent, never even left the house. 

She’d not seen home in three years. It was smaller than she remembered. Darker. 

The duffle bag was clutched tightly in her hands, wringing the fabric of the handle between her fingers. The accelerator had been to the floor the entire way here, the blood was still caked thick in her hair, under her nails, stained parts of her skin. 

Frank’s blood. She wondered if the neighbours had called the police yet, if they ever would since he kept them so isolated. Wondered if she was already a suspect in his murder. 

She shook in her shoes at the thought, though that may just be the December night air. 

A figure came storming out of the front door, hands in his pockets, his coat thin and moth eaten. 

Mathew had never been a tall boy, not even at eighteen when she’d last seen him, especially not now at twenty. He was always thin in his face, despite devouring the most out of any of them, his eyes always tired. Though, becoming a dad at such a young age would do that to someone. 

He stopped in front of her, his eyes roving over her with a grand mix of anger and worry. He looked as if he’d seen a ghost, as if he’d seen a dog returning home with its tail between its legs. Which was sort of how she felt. 

“Matty-” She breathed, her exhale clear as day in the freezing night, only he scoffed at the words. He may as well have spat in her, “I don’t have time to explain-”

“What?” He growled, lip sneering in a way that looked too much like their mother, “Where the fuck have you been?” 

She baulked, eyebrows furrowing in a way that she willed herself not to burst into tears. She wanted to head inside, wanted to curl up on the old, ratty sofa they’d had since she was young, wanted to feel Sammy’s head knock against hers affectionately, the only sign the grumpy boy ever gave that said he loved her, despite the fact she knew. She wanted to scold Matty for eating all the bacon out the fridge, help Joey finish his sudoku, wanted, no, needed to see Mikey, see he was okay. Last time she’d been here, she’d found him stashing pills for his friends she knew had a one way ticket to juvie or the streets. 

She’d left for all of them, left to get them a better life. And now she was standing outside her childhood home, drenched in bloodied clothes, her body used, beaten, betrayed. Grace was gone. Frank was dead. 

This was all she had left. Her boys were all she had left. 

“I don’t have time,” She repeated, forcing the duffle bag into his hands, hoping he missed the way the blood collected beneath her nails. She’d scrubbed off what she could before she left, but she knew had it been daylight he’d notice the red ichor immediately, “This is for you,”

“Wha-” Matty looked as if he could swing for her, and she knew she deserved it. She’d left them. Her bottom lip trembled at the very thought. He said her name, only now it seemed dirty, filthy, tainted, like that name had been said by so many awful men she felt as though it was muddied even Matty when he said it, “You leave us to rot for three years, and all of a sudden you just swan in here with presents-”

“Mathew, be quiet,” She barked, hearing his voice grow louder and louder, echoing in the silent street she used to run down to catch her bus, “I have to go,”

He stopped, staring at her teary eyes for a moment, and then laughed. Loud and cruel, and she knew his vitriol was still ongoing, knew she wouldn’t even stop him if he wanted to throw a cruel hand across her face for running away. 

She was such a coward. She was a liar. A murderer. But she was a coward above all of that. 

“Did we stop being good enough for you, huh?” He spat, trying to hand her the bag back, “I don’t want your pity or your little presents, take it-”

“It wasn’t like that,” She pleaded, wrestling with him to keep the bag strap in his grasp,  “Mathew, just take the bag,” 

He shoved her away, but she didn’t relent, her mind set on getting him to take the damn money, the fucking notes that mean nothing to her anymore. There had to be at least thirty grand in there by now, probably more. 

“We needed you, and you weren’t here,” Matt stumbled away from her as she forced the bag into his chest. His voice trembled in a way it hadn’t since he was a boy, since she used to bathe him with that damn toy boat, wash his hair with dish soap, “Social Services know about Mikey and the pills- they want to take Billie away-”

She stopped at that, the two of them looking at each other for the first time since she’d shown up. His eyes were watery, where hers were empty. His sister had always been strong, Matt didn’t think he’d ever seen her cry in all the years of shit she’d trodden through for them. She had always looked exhausted, as if her brain was fired up every moment of the day, as if she could go for a three day nap and it wouldn’t so much as touch her. 

But this was worse. She wasn’t tired. Wasn’t thinking hard. His sister didn’t even look alive. 

Whoever it was staring back at him was not the girl he remembered. Someone could tell him a wraith had crawled into his sister’s skin and dragged her back here with the sole mission of getting him to take the damn bag, and he’d believe them. 

She looked dead. She felt it too.

“Is that-” He stopped himself, a bitter hand reaching up for a mark on her face that glinted under the moonlight, “Blood?” 

She froze, and for a moment neither of them said anything. 

Her breath rattled in her chest, the stickiness of Frank’s blood clinging her clothes to her skin, and he realised once he’d actually taken the sight of her in, that she smelled metallic, that she had a thousand mile stare that had not been there the day she’d left them. 

“Everything I’ve done, I did it for you.” She said after a moment’s reprieve and the anger brewing in his frown wiped immediately, the words soothing his fury into a simmering guilt. 

He tried to say her name again, only to have her cut him off, shoving the back into his arms with finality, her eyes blank, leaving no space for questions, for retaliation. 

“Get Mikey a lawyer. Get him to rehab. Read the letters, or not, I don’t care,” But she did. She cared more than anything. Cared so much she needed to run, now, cared so much she knew every moment she spent talking was more time for him to be incriminated in what she’d done. “I have to go, it’s not safe,” 

He wanted to hug her; he’d never been the affectionate one, she usually saved her cuddles for the younger ones. He wished he’d hugged her now. Wished he’d dragged her back inside, gotten her warm in front of their fire, forced the truth out of her. Anything to tell him what that look on her face had meant. Anything to make her stop seeming so dead it scared him like a child. 

But he didn’t. He couldn’t, not even as she all but sped away in a car he’d never seen before, a limp he’d not noticed through his anger fogged brain as he’d stormed down their front path. 

He barely caught Sammy, filling their entire doorway with his form that had only grown tenfold, if that had even been possible, since his sister left, looking like a kicked dog behind angry eyes that glinted with rare tears. 

“Come on, Sam,” Matty said, brushing past his little brother, though he towered over him for a nineteen year old, heading inside their small house that had felt colder since she’d abandoned them, “We’ll sort it out in the morning,” 

But Sam didn’t. He watched the broken tail lights of the car speed off into the distance, until they were no more than a sound rattling around the silent neighbourhood. Only then did he let himself begin to cry, hoping she came back for them soon. 

–

“It’s a maze,” Layla said, as the three of them traipsed through the tunnels that certainly looked like they had seen better days. Dove startled a bit at the bugs that skittered up the walls as the light hit them, no doubt a little frightened themselves at the rude intrusion from the trio, though she stuck behind Layla. She’d fought demon jackals, men with guns, lived a double life but bugs were what scared her. 

“It’s a-maze-ing,” Steven replied, snickering to himself, which had her giggling too, shaking her head at the man behind her. 

“She means there are six paths, Steven,” D ove clarified, and he hoped the light covered the way his cheeks rouged. 

“Right, yeah, yeah,” He replied, sticking his head down one of the thin alley ways to scope out the labyrinth they’d found themselves in, “Six points,” 

Dove hung back as Layla went towards another one of the pathways, eyes clocking a stone surface planted directly in the middle of the antechamber, the sand laying thick over the top, yet uneven as if the stone wasn’t entirely flat. 

Her brows furrowed, and she traced her finger deeper in the dust, carving out where the ridges grooved into the table. She made an almond shape, an arching line parallelling it, before she realised what the marking was, her brows shooting into her forehead. 

She saw a torch flick over where she worked, felt Steven’s body press against her side as if he’d forgotten what personal space was exactly. 

“You don’t think…” He started, watching how her soft fingertip swirled around into a spiral the two of them had seen a million times walking past the exhibits on the way to the gift shop, “This whole structure is-”

“The Eye of Horus,” She finished, curving around to create the iris. As if proving her point, Steven’s light reflected off the the shiny stone of the table, producing the identical symbol on the ceiling of the room, which had her nudging his hand, pointing to the light, “Look at that,”

“Wow,” He hummed, his eyes flicking between the eye and the wonder on her face as she smiled wryly at the stone, “It’s the royal symbol, protection in the afterlife.”

“I mean the resources needed to build this-” Layla added, looking between all of the corridors that had certainly not been crafted in a day’s work, nor had it been done cheaply, judging by the quality of stone that surrounded them. She stopped, her eyes wild with excitement as she looked at the two of them, “Her final avatar was a pharaoh,”

A breath whooshed from Dove’s lungs, jaw gaping, feeling Steven practically buzzing in his shoes beside her. 

“A bloody pharoah,” He repeated, the joy coating his words like a kid on Christmas. He and Layla chuckled between one another, before their gaze fell on Dove, who stared at the drawing in the sand as if it would outright speak to her.

“So you think it’s a map?” Layla asked, her fawn eyes dropping to the girl who bit her lip unsure. 

She nodded, gaze scanning over the drawing again, as Steven’s rough finger followed where her own hand had traced just moments before. 

“Right. So the eye of Horus is also the Eye of mind, yeah?” He asked, his face now more serious than she’d ever seen him, as he thought harder, “Representing the six senses, six points.” He gestured to each of the corridors that lead away from the chamber they huddled in, “So you’ve got the eyebrow that denotes thoughts. Pupil, sight obviously.” He followed each of his words with his calloused fingers, the same ones that had been down her trousers not so much as a few hours ago. She felt her stomach writhe at the thought, “This point here is, uh, hearing. Smell. Touch. And this long line ending in a spiral is the tongue,” 

She felt her eyes train on his lips as he said it, his gaze falling to her face where she stood besides him, watching every movement on his lips as if she could barely hold herself back from meeting their mouths then and there. 

“The avatar would be Ammit’s voice,” Layla murmured, entirely unaware of the heated thoughts racing through the girl’s mind as she stared at the man, his own expression indiscernible, meeting her eyes with his own chestnut hues, “We should head this way,” 

Layla took off towards the route the tongue pointed them to, the two of them hanging behind for a moment, unable to rip their eyes from one another. 

“What’s that look for?” Steven asked, chuckling nervously as he tried and failed to pull his gaze away from her where she licked her lips slowly. Leaning towards him, her fingers found the front of his jacket as she pulled him closer, kissing him gently, though there was a subtle bite to it that went straight to his trousers as he melted. 

Pulling away, she looked at him with a spritely kind of excitement, as if she loved every moment of looking at him like that. 

“Did I ever tell you how amazing I think you are?” She asked, her face warm with adoration, and the words had his cheeks blazing instantly. 

“You mentioned it once or twice,” He joked, both of them knowing full well the girl was known to give him every compliment she could even before they had been brave enough to admit how they felt for one another. 

She snickered, pulling away from him to follow where Layla had wandered off too, looping a pinky finger in his own to encourage him to follow. Had she not, he was sure he’d be rooted to the floor, waiting for his heartbeat to slow down, or even for his cock to calm enough that he could move without feeling it press against his trousers. 

He cursed himself moments later, when his brain caught up to him, that he hadn’t told her just how amazing he thought she was. 

Yet Steven felt his jeans tighten again when he thought of one other way he could show her just what he felt. 

-

The heavy panting was the only sign either of them were even there as they walked through the narrow corridor, the smallest slither of light meeting them at the end, not unlike when they had trudged into the Great pyramid. That had seemed weeks ago, when in reality it had only been six days, how her life had been flipped upside down all the more since then. 

Her head rattled on her shoulders, thoughts flitting over Layla and her whereabouts as they stepped through the hallway, dust thickening in their lungs with every pant. Her ears were alert to the smallest of movements, her heart pounding in her chest, the image of that thing, the resurrected Heka Priest, replaying in her head, the screech of its rotted vocal chords keeping her arm hairs standing in goose flesh. 

“She’ll be alright, won’t she?” Dove asked solemnly, her brow creased so tight she reminded herself of Sammy, knowing they had always looked the most similar out of all of her brothers. She knew, by the way Steven blanched at the sight of her worry, that she looked as guilty as she felt, “I shouldn’t have left her-”

“We didn’t have much choice, sweetheart,” He sighed, grabbing her hand tightly in his own, stopping in the middle of the darkened chamber to look at her properly. She tugged her lip between her teeth as she averted his gaze, the disappointment in herself shadowing over her chest, “We did everything we could- it’s Layla, she’s done this a thousand times with Marc. She’ll know what to do,” 

Though he was more convincing himself than anything. He wasn’t so sure from the way Marc scoffed inside the headspace that she had in fact not run from undead creatures that threatened to rip her limb from limb a thousand times. Not even once. This was new territory for all of them. 

She didn’t seem convinced as she nodded, her lips quirking as if she was about to say something, only for him to kiss her forehead before she could. 

“I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself if something happened to her,” She confessed, after he drew back, watching her thoughts swimming behind sad eyes, as if he could see the way she bit her tongue to stop herself from calling herself the worst names imaginable. 

He stroked her cheek gently, tilting her chin to meet his gaze, his chocolate gaze warmer than summer and he smiled at her sadly. 

“None of this is your fault,” He said, though she said nothing, chewing her cheek silently, “The faster we get the ushabti, and the faster we can go find Layla. Deal?” 

She nodded again, and he squeezed her hand, pulling her towards the end of the corridor with a small smile. 

Steven Grant was not a brave man, not by any means. But for her, he would be. He thought the same as she had, worried for the El-Faouley woman more and more with every step they took towards the tomb, his own body on high alert for an incoming attack from one of those creatures. 

The end of the hallway drew near, the path widening out to accommodate an entrance, water trickling between the tiles in a silent stream, and he held her hand tighter as they navigated over the stepping stones, her boots slippy over the moss that clung to the rocks. 

It wasn’t until he reached the end, where the corridor opened out, that he let go of her hand in favour of flicking his torch on. His entire body froze at the sight, satiated in awe of the tomb before him. 

She hopped the final stepping stone, hands grabbing onto the wall and his shoulder for support before she followed his gaze to the room, and her jaw dropped too. 

“First ones in, tomb fit for a pharaoh,” Steven hummed, stepping further into the antechamber, and he wasn’t wrong by any means. The walls were all but covered in bright paints that had yet to wash away, the tales of heroic battles and armies surrounding them like one huge mural. Solid gold plates, figurines, vases scattered neatly around the room, each one shiny and polished as if the death bed had never been touched since the day it had been sealed. Four bronze horse statues the size of her watched them enter, carefully avoiding the water that surrounded the sarcophagus in a deep pool, stepping between cracked slabs towards the coffin.

She let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding as she saw the sheer amount of engravings on the sarcophagus, each one proving the power the dead king had held over his people when he’d died. It was more than she’d seen even on one, more than she would ever see. 

This was a wealthy, wealthy pharaoh, she realised, her brows flicking into her hairline

“Thutmose II?” Steven guessed, leading the way to the coffin, the excitement blaringly clear in his voice. He couldn’t so much as catch his breath behind his smile, “Nefertiti. It’s gotta be one of the bigg’uns, Dove,” He said, flicking a grin over his shoulder as her eyes scaled every inch of the tomb. Her jaw hung open, ignoring the dusty task of musk in her mouth, the stagnant smell of water, her eyes pure wonder of what she was seeing. 

This was the stuff of movies, of adventures she read to Joey and Mikey before bed, never did she think she would be part of it, let alone with Steven Grant, a man so quiet he apologised to pigeons, who jumped at his own shadow, who missed his bus every single morning. 

“Must be, I’ve never seen so many offerings,” She replied, willing her feet to hold steady as they stepped between the stones and water carefully. “The engravings, there nothing like I’ve studied before,” 

“Oh wow, look at that,” Steven gawped, taking the final step onto the centrepiece, heading towards the sarcophagus with ravenous eyes, “Look at all these relics,” 

She was hot on his heels, quick to hop over, and expand her search with an eagle eye as she closed in on the sarcophagus. 

“Hold on, Macedonian?” Dove stopped in her tracks, clicking her torch on and nearing the engravings with wide eyes, “It can’t be right-”

“That’s Macedonian,” Steven echoed, kneeling next to her with wary fingertips. He brushed over the markings, a gobsmacked laugh coming from his chest, “Well-b-but the only pharaoh-” 

She grabbed his arm with a clawing strength, head drinking in the facts before her, gently hands following the engravings as if she needed to touch it herself to believe what she knew to be true, “H-He insisted on calling himself Egyptian,” She swallowed, standing on shaky knees to behold the rest of the coffin, her heart hammering. The two of them approached either side of the king’s burial place. “Steven, I think we found the long lost tomb of Alexander the Great,” 

Taking a moment, if not to catch a nervous breath, their eyes met across the top of the sarcophagus, an identical expression of astonishment on their faces. 

She couldn’t help it then; she started laughing. Nervous and yet amazed, she was lost entirely for words. 

“We have to open it, Steven,” She said, her chuckles dying out, a hand flying to her forehead when she realised what a desecration they were about to cause, “The ushabti has to be inside, we have to open it up, oh goodness-”

“Everything inside me is screaming not to touch this thing,” Steven agreed, shaking his nerves out through his hands while watching her also fret over the slight grave robbing they were about to commit. 

“You want Harrow to get to Ammit first?” Marc snapped from the glint in the cursive gold writing across the sarcophagus’ chest. He seemed to have roused from his silent protest and come back swinging, Steven thought with a bitter huff, his hands coming up to the side of the opening. 

“Alright, alright, alright,” He replied, a nervous grip settling on the cold sandstone. His eyes flicked to her again for reassurance, though she herself looked to be coming to a sobering understanding they needed to disgrace the burial sight to get what they wanted. She nodded, her hand drifting to clutch over her mouth in shock, like she needed to stop herself from protesting his actions, and with that he pushed. 

The smell of death invaded her nose, choking her for a moment as the stone slid to reveal the mummified corpse of the man historians had been babbling about for decades. 

This had once been a conqueror, a king, a pharaoh everyone whispered about, a man who’s name was spoken a thousand times a day on the guided tours in the museum.

And they had found him. 

A plated scarab sat across his chest, one she assumed was a sister to the one they had used to find him, the one Harrow took, below it; a huge, solid battle axe with engravings the entire length of its sharp edge. An offering to a man so revered for his wars. 

A shiver trickling down her spine, she looked up at Steven through wide eyes, the two of them entirely stumped for words at what they were discovering, the thousands of years they had just peeled back with one fell swoop. 

“Oh man,” Steven shook his head, barely ripping his eyes away from the mummy for a moment as she moved to stand at the head of the sarcophagus.

“Where’s the ushabti?” Marc spoke again, this time from the fresh golden sheen on the axe, seeing no other offerings or trinkets inside the coffin besides the weapon. 

“Well, if you’re going to hide it for all eternity, you’d probably put it in a place where the average looter wouldn’t think to look,” Steven replied, his heart a hummingbird behind his chest, almost, almost as excited as he had been when he’d been kissing her against that post. 

Almost, but not quite. 

She stayed silent, attuning her ears into keeping watch for Harrow’s men approaching, or hopefully even figuring out where Layla was, while Steven’s brain whirred, conferring with Marc. 

She hoped he wasn’t mad at her for Steven pushing him out of the headspace, for throwing that mirror into the sand the moment he’d gotten his lips on hers. She hoped he would understand. Marc always understood. 

Steven’s face smoothed out in realisation, whether he had come to it on his own or Marc had helped she wasn’t sure, but she grabbed his wrist gently nonetheless. 

“What is it?” She murmured, his eyes trained on the tightly wrapped linen, an almost horrified look on his face. 

“Alexander was the voice of Ammit…” He trailed off, his hand coming to rest on the corpse’s jaw, “All right, I’m gonna try something, I’m gonna do something here.”

His fingers found the lip of the cloth where the head met the body, weaving their way under and tugging them away carefully. 

Dove released a shaky breath, her hand returning in shock over her mouth, knowing that this was technically known as grave desecration, let alone ruining thousands of years of history. 

“Steven, oh my god-” She gagged as the smell hit her, the man beside her writhing in sickness as his fingers touched the mummified skin beneath. 

“Oh god- so sorry- sorry, Mr Great,” He choked on his words, the disgust running over his skin when he touched something cold and wrinkled. 

He tore the bandages with more force, the linen coming away easily, but they both shuddered hearing something crack under the weight of his hand, something she could only imagine was a bone.

Steven pulled the cloth away to reveal a perfectly mummified face, and the sight wasn’t so uncommon as she’d thought since they had two preserved in the museum. But seeing it so up close, without the temperature controlled glass, it made her want to vomit and stare in awe all at the same time. 

Steven took an unsure breath, before he went even further, his fingers resting on the lower mandible, pulling back whatever remained of the lips to slip between his teeth, his other hand holding his cranium still. 

She forced herself not to wince as he started tugging the mouth open; the look on his face was torture for him enough. 

“All right, open up. Oh, sorry, Mr Great,” He bit out, bile rising in his own throat at the sensations beneath his hand, the jaw cracking and ripping down with a nauseating crunch. His hand reached down the gullet, and she had to turn away then when he started rooting around the throat, resisting the retch that fought her own mouth, “Oh, sorry, oh god, I couldn’t be more sorry,” 

It wasn’t until she heard a squelch they both heaved, Steven’s own noises of disgust filling the tomb as his entire upper arm wormed its way into the chest cavity, and she thought he might just be the bravest man she’d ever known. 

His arm twisted for a moment, before he started pulling it out, not without some resistance from the collar bones, only for it to come away with one final tug, and in his hand producing a small ceramic figure of an alligator headed woman, and two audible gasps filled the silence. 

“Steven-” She started, turning to him with something warm and gooey and close to pride in her eyes, “Steven, you did it!” 

She threw herself at him in a hug, ignoring every morsel of her that cringed when she imagined where his hand had been, feeling him squeeze her to him just as tightly.

“We did it, we did- I could never have done any of this without you,” He replied, nosing her hair for a moment before he pulled her away to look at her face, beaming with glee. It didn’t matter then, that he had been chased by that creature, or that he’d been shot at, or that he’d been digging around a dead man’s throat. It didn’t matter then that his life had been turned upside down, or that he was actually one man split into another, or that he’d lost his job. He didn’t care. Because seeing how she looked at him, as if she’d just watched him solve string theory or win a nobel prize, healed every wound he’d ever had. 

He only needed her; only ever wanted her. 

“I really do love you,” She said, and he wondered it she’d heard his thoughts, fought the urge to kiss her then and there. 

Her head snapped to where they had entered the tomb, something wary in her gaze until he saw Layla appear in the doorway, looking entirely scraped up, as if she’d just been dragged through the caverns backwards. 

“Layla!” Dove called, bounding over the stepping stones, “Layla, are you alright- we got the ushabti-”

“Layla, look! We won!” Behind her Steven held up the figurine, the pair of them with billion dollar smiles on their faces, watching the woman approach on shaky legs, “And the ushabti goes to; us. I had to go digging down old Alexander the Great’s gullet, but we found it,” 

Dove giggled at his teasing, shaking her head, and fighting the urge to yank Layla into a hug of her own. They had done it, they’d won. Now they could get out of here and away from Harrow, she could go home, go home with Steven-

She was quick to notice the stare Layla pinned on the man behind her, something visceral and in pain beneath her skin, something raw, a wound ripped open. She knew it well, knew it like an old friend. Layla was the pure image of betrayal. 

She stalked forward silently, not paying the younger woman a scrap of attention as she approached, stepping over the cobbles with not a single hesitant foot. Her eyes gleaned with unshed tears, something rageful keeping them bay. 

Dove stopped still, her eyes trained on the woman, her smile dissolving into confusion. 

“Layla, are you alright-” 

“Can he hear me?” Layla cut her off, not giving a shit for her soft lilted voice or her concern. She only cared about Marc, Harrow’s words rattling in her head like a foghorn calling every shred of anger she’d ever felt for her ex-husband to arms. 

“Alexander? No, I don’t think so, god I hope not,” Steven snickered, and Dove winced. Layla’s eyes darkened, her honey tones near black in the lowlit antechamber, and the younger woman knew whatever had happened in the moments passed since they’d parted, Layla was now out for blood. 

“What happened to my father?” The El-Faouley woman spat, her hands shaking with anger, and Dove could do nothing but wait for Steven to understand that she wasn’t kidding around.

She dared a glance at the man who stood there like a lost child, whatever celebration and relief they had felt swept away in a matter of moments. Seconds. 

She knew from the silence that lingered Layla already suspected something. 

“I’m talking to you,” Layla seethed, stepping towards the man without a bat of an eyelid at the woman who watched whatever progress they’d made swirl down the drain like yesterday’s newspaper. 

“What?” Steven murmured, a frown on his face as Layla’s hands came up to shove him in the chest hard. 

“I’m talking to you, Marc,” 

He barely stumbled, barely blinked, but she saw it. Saw the way the innocence melted away, and his frown became cold and distant. She saw the moment Marc took the body, and her heart dropped at the flash of guilt that glinted in the crook of his eyes as he saw his ex-wife’s expression in the flesh. 

“Come on, let’s go, let’s go-” He tried to pull her away, but Dove knew it was his own brand of avoiding the subject. She’d never hold it against him, who was she to judge someone for running from responsibility, but she knew. And so did Layla. 

“No,” The woman dug her heels in as he tried pulling her to the exit, her empty fist weakly beating on his wrist while he yanked on her coat. 

“We have to go right now,”

“No, Marc, no,” She fought, the venom in her tone only growing. He tugged her harder, the two of them all but grappling with one another for control. 

“We have to go, right now,” He repeated, eyes flicking to where Dove stood still, her hands playing with one another nervously, “Come on, we gotta get out of here-”

Layla forced his head back to her, away from where the younger woman moved between each foot, watching it play out like a tragedy. 

“What happened to my father?” She said again, louder this time, and it was clear no amount of deflection would stop her from getting an answer.

“Listen to me,” Marc said with a seriousness Dove had never heard, real life panic in his tone that had her shifting to check the doorway for signs of Harrow’s men following closely behind, “We need to leave right now, I will explain everything, I swear. But we have to go,”

“Did you kill Abdullah El Faouley?” Layla’s voice cracked, because the answer would break her if it were true, if it was what she feared. 

“Of course not. Of course I didn’t,” And it was the first honest thing Marc had said to her in years. The pain in his eyes at the accusation said it all. 

Layla sighed in short lived relief, running a hand over her face. 

“But you were there,” She said quietly, and the four words cleaved Marc’s resolve right down the middle, his brow furrowing in agony, “You were there, right?” 

“I was- I was there,” He confessed, Dove’s stomach turning over in anguish. She wanted to hug both of them to her in entirely different ways. Wanted to grab Layla, stroke her hair the way Grace used to when she was upset, hold her to her chest and tell her how sorry she was that her father was taken from her so cruelly. She wanted to pull Marc in, slot him right over her heart and tell him he wasn’t bad, not even now, not ever, that he was good, pure, golden goodness, just as good as Steven. That he wasn’t guilty, he was just unlucky. 

“My partner got greedy, he executed everyone at the digsite. Shot me too, I was supposed to die that night,” Marc spilled out, his expression bleak, distraught. 

She knew better than to interrupt, than to get in between the two of them when they fought like this. That is, until her ears pricked up with her inhumane senses, the sound of guns cocking and creeping footsteps dragging through the sand stones they had just come from, whispers between comrades that they were getting close to what they had been searching for. 

“Someone’s here,” She said, before she could think better of speaking. Their heads turned to her, as if they’d forgotten she was there, Marc’s face a picture of a tortured soul. She angled her head to distinguish what the men were saying, try give her some pointers how long they had, “Harrow is getting close, I can hear his watch-”

“Who’s Grace?” Layla asked, her tone guarded, as if she’d begged the question the entire time she’d known the girl, “Marc’s not the only one who’s been keeping secrets,” 

But Dove was frozen. Entirely frozen. Not so much of a breath in her chest, not even a blink.

Because hearing that name again, her name, hearing Layla take everything close to her and toss it around as a conversation piece shattered her into a million small pieces, floating down neatly into the water right then and there.

He saw it.

When her eyes glazed over, as if hearing the name pressed play on a movie she’d not seen in years, and she no longer stood there, with them, but she was transported somewhere else entirely. It was the same as when she’d been in the car, staring out that window, he wanted to yell out to her, grab her delicate face and scream Where do you go? Come back to me, take my hand and come back to me. Where are you where I can’t follow.

Because she wasn’t there, inside her own body. And she feared she would never be again.

She was back in that room, in that window sill, replaying every single night she’d spent in Grace’s room. Who’s Grace? She was opening that door, the one Frank told her not to go in, she was staring at the body, the unmoving one, the cold corpse, frozen in pain, what was once her entire world ripping away from her soul, pulling her apart right down the middle, the empty bottle staring right back at her from the bedside table as if to say ‘I won, I won.’ Who’s Grace? She wasn’t there, wasn’t in the tomb at all, she was rotting in her bed, lying still and waiting for death to take her too, because it seemed impossible that the person who had been made as her mirror image in every way but looks could be culled but not her.

How could she explain who Grace was? How do you even begin to explain to a person what every cell of your body is?

“Harrow said you let her die,” Layla said, and she knew she’d hit a home run with whatever that look on Dove’s face meant, knew that everything he’d said had been true, “He said you could have saved her and you didn’t-”

“Don’t,” It was a snarl, something unearthly and rotten, but the grief in the single word was clear as a bell, “Stop it, Layla,”

She hadn’t ever spoken to her like that, had snapped and rolled her eyes, but never had such a clear threat to her words.

The woman blinked in response, the hairs on her arms standing on end at the voice that was entirely not Dove’s coming from her throat. It was monstrous, and part of her wondered if it was Seth who had in fact taken her body, only to see the eyes she knew well staring back at her with the image of a deer at the barrel of a gun.

Vulnerable. Ready for slaughter. Ready to be laid bare on the butcher's block.

Layla thought twice before she opened her mouth again, second guessing pushing for more answers, but something in the way the girl looked told her there was a truth to it.

“And Frank?” Layla asked, watching Dove’s hands shake. With anger, Layla guessed, anger that her little secrets were being poured out on the cobbles for her precious Steven to see.

Layla was not a cruel woman, not by any means. But she despised liars. And Dove was one of them.

“You and Harrow seem to be best pals, Layla, why don’t you ask him who Frank was,” Dove hissed, and it was like Marc was looking at someone else entirely, like he was watching a mutt backed into a corner snapping at everyone who approached, like watching game gnaw at its own leg to be free of a trap, “He got what he deserved,”

And Marc didn't doubt it. Not even when he reeled back in shock at her tone of voice, not expecting it from his peaceful dove, but then again Layla had ripped all sorts of wounds open in the interest of her own search for answers.

Marc opened his mouth to reinforce their need haste, only to hear for himself the footsteps draw nearer, and the three of them swivelled to look at the direction they came from.

“They’re here,” He said with a pit opening in his stomach, right around where his heart had fallen, springing into action as Layla paced across the stones, searching for a hiding spot.

“There must be another way out,” Dove said, though she felt her brain wrestling with images of that day, that last day, the feel of the mirror beneath her fingers, the scars that to this day marred her palm from the glass as she’d driven it into his chest.

“You find it, I’ll hold them off,” Marc ordered her, backing on himself to grab the battleaxe from inside the sarcophagus. Layla followed orders without protest, heading for the small alleyway she had come from, knowing she couldn’t go back that way with those creatures lurking behind the walls.

Crouching behind a pillar, she watched them with doubtful eyes. She knew they could find her in a matter of seconds. She was beyond angry at both of them for their deceit, yet she watched Dove summon the claws of her suit around her hands, ten blades sprouting over her natural nails in a small motion.

“Get out of here-” Marc waved her off, trying to nudge her body towards where Layla crouched, only for her to gently brush his hands away, careful not to scratch him with her talons.

“Marc, I’m not letting you do this alone- you don’t have a suit-” She argued back, hating the way he was still ready to go down swinging for her, hating the way he’d brushed off what Layla had said because it was Layla and Layla had every reason to throw her under any bus coming.

Her heart plummeted even more, dragging her shame down with it, and she understood then what it was.

He didn’t believe she’d done anything. He didn’t believe something was wrong, something was wrong with her. Didn’t believe she had lied, and kept things from him, didn’t entertain the idea for a single second that she was not the Dove he thought she was.

She knew if he would ask, she wouldn’t have the heart to lie to him to his face, knew she couldn’t keep betraying the undying loyalty he had to her. Knew he would take Steven away.

But she also knew he wouldn’t ask in the first place. Because to Marc, she was innocent of everything everyone accused her of, no matter how true.

She felt even worse than before, if that had even been possible.

She could only steel her face over as Harrow entered the room behind her, the infuriating tap tap tap of his staff against the floor giving him away.

And in a split moment, twenty armed men followed him, crawling out from the corners of the room, their rifles loaded, torches trained on the two of them, the red aimpoints hovering over their chests. She tried to account for every single one of the guns and their wielders, but she couldn’t. There was just too many.

The only way they were getting out of here alive is if he ran, if he ducked out with Layla and left her here to fight alone. But she knew he would never. Not unless she were to throw her body over his, take every single round of ammunition in her suit, keep him protected until they had run dry, but even then she knew he would fight against having her in front of him.

She couldn’t just stand by, couldn’t just let him go, no matter how much she dreaded what was coming next, how much he would hate her once she told him. But maybe he could understand, maybe he would. He had killed people before, she knew he had, he never hid from that. Killed those who deserved it. He hadn’t cared, hadn’t treated her differently when Hellhound had slaughtered those men. She wished she was back in that bathtub, back in their hotel room, the room full of lavender and vanilla, wished his hands were back in her hair telling her she was going to be okay.

She wished. Because that was all she had left.

“Just you two?” Harrow asked, his voice a wisp of smoke in the dark tomb that seemed to be closing in on them as the men steadied their aim, fingers resting on the triggers, “The rest is silence. I remember the first morning, I woke up knowing Khonshu was gone. The quiet was liberating,”

Harrow pocketed the scarab that nestled in his palm, stepping carefully towards them, his damn stick tapping at the floor like death had come knocking.

“And you, little dove,” Harrow turned to her, her eyes a cold glare, twitching with every knock of the wooden cane against the floor, “The truth can be just as liberating as being rid of the voice that controls you. But maybe, you already know that.”

She couldn’t disagree more. There was nothing liberating about what she’d done to Frank. She was a woman haunted, forever tainted by that day. She was ruined, she couldn’t believe she’d ever thought she could be fixed.

“Why don’t you tell him the truth?” Harrow goaded, her insides shrivelling as she saw Marc’s chocolate hues flick to her for a moment, “Ask her, Marc.”

“Marc, I can explain-” She said, eyes locking onto where he clenched a tight fist around his weapon, Harrow's words cutting her off.

“You’re a free man. And ofcourse with that freedom comes choice.” Harrow continued, “You can choose to pretend not to see the guilt writhing under her skin like a serpent. Or, you can choose to keep dear Steven safe,”

“Safe from what?” Marc snapped, his hackles raised at Harrow’s words, as if there was ever a moment of doubt he would choose anything over Steven’s wellbeing, or perhaps it was the way he questioned her that did it.

“Safe from the woman who slaughtered her own boyfriend, maybe?”

Harrow’s tone was soft, gentle, like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb upon the room, a tidal wave of cold overcoming the space between them.

“What?” Marc scoffed, almost a genuine laugh emerging at the levels Harrow was willing to stoop to in order to get the ushabti, including making up ludicrous tales, “What kind of shit is that, you can’t honestly think I’d believe that-”

He looked back to her, expecting confusion, aghast, anything except the deep pools of guilt encompassing her entire being as she stared at him.

He went cold.

No. No, please, no.

He said nothing, did nothing, not even when she tugged a lip between her teeth to keep it from wobbling.

“Please,” She whimpered, stepping towards him with empty hands, “Please, I can explain,”

Only he stepped back, and with it ripped whatever remained of her soul away from.

His eyes no longer were warm nests of mousy brown, his expression no longer soft as he took her in, his jaw tight and feathered with hesitation.

“I can explain, please listen to me,” She begged, she wasn’t above sinking to her knees and pleading against his knee in tears, “I was going to tell you, I tried-”

“You lied to me?” Marc bit, his face empty of whatever it was that he’d regarded her with before. The hands in her hair as she bathed were a million miles away, the kindness that had shone upon her like a warm summer now pelted her like hail in a storm.

“It wasn’t like the others, I had to-” She said, her hands shaking as she dared another step towards him, only for him to take another step back, “I thought you would understand,”

“I killed people because it was service to Khonshu, or-or because people's lives hung in the balance, not because I chose to,” He snapped, drawing his hand away from her like she’d burned him with her very being, “You killed your own boyfriend? You told me you stole- you lied to me,”

“No.” Steven’s voice was a whine, a bleat of agony inside the headspace, a man who was watching the only thing he’d ever had for himself slip away, “No, she wouldn’t Marc, she-”

“Please, just listen,” Her eyes had welled now, “Please, I- Marc, watch out!” She jumped at him, not missing the way his knuckles had quivered on the axe at her sudden movement, only for her to shove past him and descend onto a figure that had been moments away from grabbing the Ushabti.

It was like a switch had flickered then, and the rest of the room was invited into their conversation.

Marc slashed at one of the men who dived for her, snapping his forearm clean in two, the rifle falling from his grasp, and she clawed at the guards wrist, ripping through tendons and flesh like it were fabric.

He heard another of the men squeal as she slashed his face, he cut down another of Harrow’s men with a swift blow to the arm, ichor spurting over his hand at the contact.

He barely even blinked an eye as he threw the battle axe at the next one in his path, though he hadn’t even felt the handle leave his palm as it hit its mark and another one of the men went down.

He knew it made him somewhat of a hypocrite. But it wasn't just the blatant lie that had caused his walls to clamp down around him. That man, whoever he was, had been her boyfriend. And Steven... If he hadn't known something so telling about her, how could he be sure she wouldn't flip and do the same to Steven.

She wouldn't. He wanted to say he knew she wouldn't lay a hand on the man clawing at his brain in torment, but Marc felt he didn't know anything about her anymore.

She had killed someone. His dove, his innocent dove, that he had spent weeks feeling like filth for so much as touching, feeling as though he had ruined her, only to find out she was just as tainted as he was. She had lied to him. She had every chance, every moment he showed his soft underbelly, to tell him the truth, and she hadn’t. He was supposed to keep Steven safe, and he was dropping walls left right and centre for someone who could have had him lined up as her next target.

Dove’s head whirled around when she heard him grunt, fearing he had gotten a barrel to the face, or even a rogue fist. She took a sweeping glance at him from head to toe, the relief tangible in her bones, seeing he was rattled and angry, but not bleeding.

She needed to set this right. She was a liar, she knew that, she was a murderer, she knew that aswell. She didn’t deserve any of the kindness she’d been shown, she’d known she was on borrowed time the entirety of their friendship. She had known this was coming any day now.

It still hurt like a bitch to be confronted with the truth. And the truth was Marc glared at her like hated her. Marc wanted nothing to do with her, as liar, a con, an actress. A whore.

She had to fix this; if she even could. She had to try. For Steven.

Dove had gotten all of one step when Harrow pulled the pistol out of his jeans.

It was like a slow motion picture from there, like she was in the back seat trying to steer the wheel, sitting front row of the audience as the movie played out in front of her.

Harrow lifting the gun at Marc’s chest, pulling the trigger once, his aim true enough that a crimson hole bloomed through the man’s sweater in seconds, spraying out of the wound and onto his outfit.

She heard herself scream, heard his name coming from her in a deafening squeal, something weak and horrified in the tone. She heard the second bang of the bullet leaving its chamber, puncturing in the gut in a second deadly hit, Marc’s body stumbling back as the wound poured faster, harder, his eyes glazed into an entirely empty concoction.

She heard herself call him again, didn’t realise until it choked through a sob that she was crying, inconsolably actually. He swayed for a moment, before the weightlessness took over and he tipped backwards on his heel, and his cold gaze fell to hers for a split moment of reprieve of what she knew was coming.

She didn’t even realise until she had crouched over where he’d fallen into the water that she was sobbing, didn’t realise until the tears started falling on his face that she was crying over him, over every word she was supposed to say to him.

She didn’t realise until the heartbeat she adored so much, the one she’d planned to spend every morning pressed up against, had stopped beating, and Dove was swept up with a feeling she despised.

In all of two seconds, Dove was all alone again, and Marc and Steven were dead.

TAGLISTS.

KNIGHT IN SOHO TAGLIST 

@shirukitsune @s-u-t @ahookedheroespureheart @willowseason @imonmykneessir @acceptedbyace @broadwaytraaaaash @mythicalmo @stevenknightmarc @avery88 @fandombrackets @thelostlovedone @raythecomputerart @nyctophile-moon-child @unknownduck0 @emily-roberts @cheshirecat484 @lockleywife @strangeobsessed d @thebestrouge @0bsessedwithfictionalcharacters @dumbhxeredrose @badbishsblog @jvexoxo  @sxftie-mari i @mythical-goth @cillmeslowly @wildwallflower24 @ameliashideout @moonsua1 @latenightcravingz @blackqueengold @jesfreedark @uncle-eggy @onefinnedwonder-fm @homuraak3mi @animechick555@1800-get-alife @peachipeachy @hoemadegrace @raineisms

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector imagine #moon knight x reader #moonknight imagine #moonknight x reader #steven grant fanfiction #marc spector smut

[esperastra]

It’s been three weeks and I still have not sorted my feelings about Legends Con. So have this random, unorganized list of things that happened that I still remember (more under the cut):

Nick tried to flash (stood on a chair and pulled up his shirt) Tala and Maisie during their panel but no one noticed him in the back

On the other hand when Arthur showed up during Caity and Jes’ panel they immediately saw him and greeted him

Caity was asked what Sara’s safe word is at the Meet&Greet and her answer was “Chiquita Banana”

When asked who they would eat first on a deserted island, pretty much everyone immediately said “Dom”

Caity and Jes kept talking about doing a podcast and asking people for stuff to talk about. Jes suggested they should just do Stabcast but Caity said she doesn’t like True Crime (which fair, I don’t either lol)

Adam said Avalance’s kid is named Rose and that Gary would be a great babysitter but he definitely would lose her at some point

At the opening ceremony Caity was like “I think the last time I said I was getting married. And I did it. *shows her ring* And Jes had our baby!”

When talking about the hardest goodbyes, Caity being Caity forgot Dom left and wasn’t even in the final season. Her answer was Franz btw.

A kid asked Amy, Caity and Jes if they would rather jump in lava or drown in water if they had to die and Jes was like “How old are you? Where is your mother?!” lmao

Jes recited the condolence card from Meet The Legends to the best of her recollection and kept laughing

Arthur kept mentioning how weird it is that all these fans and the cast are in his hometown

I could listen to Maisie talk for hours, just wanted to throw that in here

Jes was talking about how beautiful the gold dress from 502 was and Caity replied with “Anything you wear is beautiful 🥰” before Amy chimed in that she is still looking for the video of Liv and Jes laughing at Matt falling off his chair that was mentioned earlier lol

When asked about a crack ship (Rishop = Rip/Bishop) Arthur went on to talk about how he loves fanfiction lol

When asked if Nick or Matt is the better kisser Tala said “Maisie”

Adam started singing I Will Always Love You (forgot why) and Maisie left him hanging by not joining in and just smiling/laughing

Poor Matt didn’t know about the Human Centipede but now he does

Jes came up with the pick up line “I can be your legend until tomorrow” and then was like “someone try this tonight at the bar!”

On the second day Adam brought a water pistol to the panel and used it on everyone who got up to ask a question

Adam was THE hype man all weekend. He kept starting “When I say DC you say Legends of Tomorrow” chants

The fandom organized a group gift to give each cast member a trophy of the Waverider. We were allowed to present it to them at the closing ceremony.

Nick was called “Brad Pitt” during the trophy ceremony and Adam being Adam stood up instead

Amy sang Future Favorite with one of the kids at the closing ceremony

Adam said something about how he doesn’t like being emotional in front of people and everyone started chanting “SHOW EMOTIONS”

By the end of the closing ceremony everyone was super emotional. Caity was too emotional to speak when it was her turn and started crying and Jes hugged her. She said “I miss you guys” to the cast and went back for another hug. Jes was like “stop the emotions. stop the emotions” in reference to the earlier chant

A small list of some of the things that happened to me personally. I won’t share it all in detail here though, for reasons:

When I got my solo photo op with Caity, she saw my Real Housewives Sara shirt and was like “That’s funny. Can I take a picture?” and then she posted it on her IG Story

Amy spoke German to me out of nowhere when she noticed my accent. She also called me back during our photo op to ask me how I was and if I slept alright.

Jes gave me this 🥺 look when I talked to her at the autograph table

Nick held my hand for like a minute which was super overwhelming especially cause I struggle with eye contact lol. He also kept lovingly teasing me the whole weekend.

Me and a bunch of people did the 709 costumes as cosplay and won ‘Best Group’. It was a lot of fun.

#legends of tomorrow #avalance #Meeting all the amazing people that I met on Twitter in the past 1 1/2 has been amazing and I miss everyone terribly #i forgot so much stuff that happened already.. especially what some of the cast said to me during the meet&greet :’( #I’m kinda sad I didn’t get to ask Caity and Jes about the gift I got them :( #It did show up in Caity’s story about her gifts though so she at least got it lol #and jes… we know she doesn’t do social media lol… #also i ran into the ppl i never wanted to meet too often… such big egos for such shitty personalities. gross. #their behavior was just so rude #legends con

[otomes-world]

Longing

Hello everyone! I had a strange urge to write something, so yes.. AU belongs to @shiny-jr I'm just interpreting. This is also my parody to the five stages of grief. Another sentient twst works are here. Enjoy 0/

Upd: I've finally got permission to post this thing! But.. I forgot about it.. and I'm no longer like it.. and it's so small.. but, yeah, let it exists.

Disbelief.

It was the first emotion that began to creep into consciousness with a light touch from just hearing about the “shutdown.” The player just took a break, was busy, preparing for exams, tests, work, whatever. Causing panic out of nowhere was stupid. This had already happened more than once, but..

The hours merged into days. Days became weeks. Only the most stubborn began to count beyond the month. The mistrust and fear began to be felt stronger than before. More and more often insidious “what ifs” were spinning in head.

You were only gone for a short moment. Maybe a little longer this time, but you would come back. You would, except… Yuu turned into the doll they always were. A puppet whose only value was in you, who controlled it. When there was no point in denying, a storm broke out.

Indignation.

Anticipation caused hearts to experience previously ignored emotions and heads to question. What could be the reason? Could something happen in that inaccessible world? Do you feel the same confusion, unable to connect?

Could you become bored with their existence?

Did you choose them, him, over someone else? What exactly made you hesitate? A beautiful singing voice? Looks that could challenge the Evil Queen? Fame? Wealth? What?

Was the effort really not enough to captivate you, to make you pay attention? Place in your heart the desire to stay. Is it really his fault or is it yours?

Grief.

Bitterness replaced frustration. The one that was ripping chest, made him want to cut his own throat open if it would give any peace of mind. If it would strengthen confidence of your return.

When it seem that the empty vessel was about to break, hope still glimmers at the bottom. When the ear listened to every rumor, rustle, speculation, even if it was false. When the one he least want to see looked at him from the mirror.

When he didn’t want to, and most importantly, couldn’t stop. Gave up. Let every attempt, broken hope plunge him into the abyss of despair much deeper than the last time. Getting back on feet became more and more difficult. Sometimes the thought of acceptance flashed but gaving up the most desired thing was hardly possible. Even if the chances that no one would understand and that everything would burn out were higher every moment.

Longing.

Yearning invariably replaces suffocating pain. Very reluctant, denied by all means.

When there was nothing left in tired beating heart - not a single drop - only memories of the time spent with you through Yuu. Then he still did not understand other people's adoration. He thought that this would bypass him. However, like everyone else, he couldn’t resist the eyes, your eyes and no one else’s, looking at him in a special way. As if in the world of colored pixels he was worth something.

A smile involuntarily plays on his face, although he barely had enough strength to maintain an imitation of life. In moments of overwhelming loss, pride insisted: you were not worth it. You were not worth all the torment, all the tears he shed. You were not worth.. but this was a blatant lie.

When everything around him would merge into one colorless heap, when he himself would cease to exist. The only thought at the last moment would be dedicated to you. Therefore, as soon as the news of the appearance of an impostor who dared to pretend to be you reached the exhausted mind, remained only... rage.

#tenshi talk #twisted wonderland #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #sentient au twst #sentient twst au #twst impostor au #i didn't ask to isekaied #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst oneshot #twst fanfic

[pandenewie]

14 - Real Men Clean Bathrooms

Prev | Masterlist | Next

AN: I’m back !! I will be back to my regular posting schedule from now on :))

WARNING: She's a little suggestive...

Jungwon has been called Wonnie most of his life… by his older sister, his parents, and his older friends when they’re trying to tease him… even the lady next door whenever he walks her dog or takes out her trash. Despite hearing the nickname from so many people, nothing will come close to the gentle flutter his heart feels whenever it slips past Y/n’s lips.

“Wonnie!” Y/n calls for what seems like the tenth time, poking his dimple to get his attention. A small habit they’ve started recently. Jungwon finally snaps out of his thoughts, remembering that Y/n is, in fact, standing right in front of him. “Oh, sorry uh… what were you saying again?” Jungwon asks sheepishly. He really didn’t mean to space out, it’s just that spending more than a minute in Y/n’s presence causes him to lose his train of thought.

“Mr Kim told me to talk to you. I’ve got detention again and he said I need to use that time to help out around the school or something.” Y/n shrugs. Jungwon can’t help the downturn of his mouth at the mention of yet another detention. They’ve been getting those a lot lately. “Um… I’ll have to check what the council is currently working on. It’s probably just cleaning desks and picking up litter though.” Jungwon says, grabbing his laptop out of his bag to check the minutes from the last council meeting.

Y/n leans over curiously, watching as he taps away on the laptop. “Is there anything you wanna do in particular?” He asks, scrolling through the list of volunteer work for the council. Y/n pretends to think for a moment, tapping a finger against their chin for added effect. “I’ll do whatever you’re doing.” 

If Jungwon wasn't already blushing, he certainly is now. "Um… I'm just cleaning out the out-of-order bathrooms… making sure they're ready to be renovated. It's pretty boring." Jungwon mumbles. It does sound boring… but Y/n's eyes light up nonetheless.

"You mean our spot?" They ask excitedly, causing Jungwon's eyebrows to furrow. "Our spot?" He asks. Since when did they have a spot? That feels like something he would definitely remember. "It’s where we skipped class together, don't tell me you forgot already?" Y/n pouts. Of course, he didn't forget! He could probably remember every interaction he's ever had with Y/n. He just assumed that Y/n didn't… or at the least, never thought about it.

"I mean… you can clean with me if you want. It's a pretty big job though. Hence why the other council members are doing easier stuff."

That made Y/n angrier than expected. Of course, Jungwon would get stuck doing the most difficult task by himself, while the rest of the council runs around picking up rubbish. God, if Y/n could name another member, they would definitely be going in their death note.

"I'll stick with you." Y/n says, surprising even themself with how genuine the words sound. Jungwon seems surprised too, his eyes widening slightly as the tip of his ears turn a pinkish red. He mumbles a quiet thanks before quickly typing Y/n's name next to his on the task sheet.

"Was this place always such a dump?" Y/n asks, looking around the small room in disgust. There's graffiti all over the walls and mirrors and the floors are covered in rubbish and drywall. Even one of the toilet stalls has had the door ripped off its hinges.

"Believe it or not, this is the better of the two." Jungwon sighs. "I'm pretty sure the girl’s bathroom has rats." He adds, causing Y/n's face to screw up at the thought.

The bathrooms certainly didn't look like this when the two were last in here. That was only a few weeks ago.

"How did it even get this bad?" Y/n asks, pulling a pen out of their pocket and walking towards the discarded stall door. Jungwon watches curiously as they crouch down, scribbling something on the piece of metal.

"Because people do things like that." Jungwon sighs, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling developing in his stomach at the "Jungwon and Y/n were here" outlined in a heart.

Jungwon actually starts to get to work as Y/n continues to look around. After a few minutes, they let out a small gasp - gaining Jungwon's attention once more. 

"Omg, I forgot about this!" Y/n exclaims, pulling Jungwon towards the scribbles on the wall. He looks at Y/n confused so they elaborate. "It's a list of everyone who hooked up here." This doesn't help. "In the bathroom?" Jungwon asks, his nose scrunching in disgust. "You'd be surprised. It's a pretty common make out spot." Y/n smirks, making sure to send Jungwon a playful wink in the process.

"Have you made out with someone here?" Jungwon asks, the question coming out a little louder and more urgent than he expected. Y/n can't help the smirk that spreads across their face. They place their hand under their chin, tapping repeatedly as they pretend to think. "Once or twice? I don't know… check the list." Y/n teases.

Jungwon doesn't want to look at the list - scared of what names he'll see engraved next to Y/n's. Scared of what feelings will come over him once he puts a face to the people who have been with Y/n. People he can only dream of being. But his restraint is limited and before he knows it, he finds his eyes quickly scanning the scratchy list of names.

It's not that bad. At least that's what Jungwon tries to tell himself. There's a handful of names written alongside Y/n's - mainly those who have already graduated, with a few from their current year level. It's not that bad. But Jungwon can't stop the bubbling feeling of jealousy that begins to form in the pit of his stomach.

"Find your answer?" Y/n asks in a teasing manner, despite their attention now being placed on picking up rubbish. Jungwon hums quietly, his eyes scanning the list once more before he gets back to work. "You're on there a lot." He mumbles, earning a scoff from Y/n. "You're slut-shaming me?" Jungwon stiffens for a moment but relaxes once more when he sees that Y/n is joking. "More like judging your hook up spot."

This comment causes Y/n to gasp in feigned offence. "Excuse me? How dare you judge the fine art of bathroom make outs?" Jungwon laughs slightly at this. "I'd hardly call kissing in the corner of a trash-filled bathroom a fine art." He gestures around the room to prove his point. 

"That is exactly how I know you've never kissed in here." Y/n jokes, causing Jungwon to sheepishly rub the back of his neck. "Why do you say that?" He asks, laughing awkwardly. "Well, first of all, your name’s not on the list." Y/n points out. Jungwon goes to mumble something about it being the destruction of property but is quickly interrupted. “Secondly, you've been blushing this entire conversation.” Y/n continues, taking the chance to quickly poke Jungwon's dimple. "And thirdly, you don't just kiss in the corner. That's where the spiders are. The basin is much more comfortable."

Jungwon struggles to hide his shock as he chokes on his saliva. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the basin. “Need a demonstration?” Y/n asks, smirking. Before Jungwon can even comprehend a response (at least one that wouldn’t result in him embarrassing himself) Y/n is already pushing the remaining trash and drywall off the basin and onto the floor. Jungwon watches in half shock, half amusement as Y/n lifts themself up onto the now clear basin.

“So whoever you’re making out with would sit here. You’ve just gotta be careful of the tap because let me tell you, hitting your tailbone on that hurts like a bitch.” Jungwon’s not sure when this turned into a walk-through but he watches carefully anyway as Y/n playfully smiles at him.

Jungwon loves their smile - even though most times he’s seen it has been when they’re teasing him. He still loves the way it sits proudly on their face, the way their eyes shimmer and crinkle the wider the grin spreads. He also loves the smile that they show when they don’t think he’s looking. The genuine one, given only to those close enough to deserve it. Jungwon hopes to one day be one of those people.

Amidst his trance, Y/n decides to begin the next part of their tutorial. They quickly reach out to grab Jungwon by the collar of his shirt, pulling him in so that he’s standing between their legs. Being caught off guard, Jungwon presses his hands tightly against the basin on either side of Y/n, catching himself in order to not fall completely on top of them.

“This is where you would stand.” Y/n says innocently as if the position they are now in isn’t entirely suggestive. Jungwon is stunned. Being this close to Y/n brings back all the memories from the library - the way their warm skin felt beneath his cautious touch. Jungwon needs to stop this, for his own sanity.

“We should keep cleaning.” Jungwon mumbles, avoiding eye contact in fear that Y/n’s eyes could convince him to stay. Convince him to do things he most definitely shouldn’t be doing. “I’m just helping, Wonnie. It’s educational.” Y/n pouts, bringing their hands to rest gently on top of Jungwon's. The sudden touch causes his eyes to shoot up to meet Y/n’s.

His first mistake.

Now that they know Jungwon’s attention is fully on them, Y/n continues with their “lesson”. “There’s a lot of different places you could put your hands, depending on what you’re feeling. Most common would be my hips.” Y/n states, bringing Jungwon’s hands to follow their words. “You could also press a hand against the mirror behind me if you need the support.” The add. Jungwon stays silent, the only sound being that of his breathing - which is growing heavier by the minute.

“Any questions so far?” Y/n asks, holding Jungwon’s hands firmly against their hips. Jungwon doesn’t know what to say - doesn’t want to speak in fear of ruining the mood. But in classic Jungwon fashion, he can feel himself responding to Y/n’s question before he can even think. “What if you fall in the sink?”

His second mistake.

Y/n stifles a laugh, which causes Jungwon to blush slightly with embarrassment. “I’d hope you would catch me.” Y/n whispers, bringing one of their hands up to gently push at Jungwon’s chest. “But I would also hold onto you, that way if I do slip, you’ll be able to hold me up…” Y/n trails off, wrapping their arms securely around Jungwon’s neck. They make sure to gently play with some of the hair there, earning a slight but definitely noticeable shudder from Jungwon. “And all that would be left to do is kiss.” Y/n mumbles, blatantly staring at Jungwon’s lips. 

The two are silent for a second as the reality of the situation begins to set in. Y/n glances back up at Jungwon’s eyes, smiling cheekily at him. Jungwon’s eyes ever so slightly flicker down to Y/n’s lips. A move so quick, that if Y/n weren’t looking directly into his eyes, they most likely would have missed it. But with the close proximity of their faces and Y/n’s apparent love for eye contact, the tiny glimpse does not go unnoticed.

His third mistake. 

Jungwon continues to make a few more decisions that could be considered mistakes. Such as the mistake of leaning in as Y/n brings their lips closer to his. The mistake of tightening his grip on Y/n’s hips as they pull him closer to their body, adjusting the angle so their lips lock together just right. The mistake of opening his mouth when Y/n’s tongue gently brushes against his bottom lip. And many, many more.

Kissing Y/n is something Jungwon thought he could only ever dream of doing. But as Y/n’s hand tugs gently on his hair - bringing him even closer into their hold and pulling him into yet another kiss, it finally starts to sink in exactly what he’s doing.

Jungwon should be overjoyed. But an over-looming feeling of confusion starts to wash over him, the longer his lips stay intertwined with Y/n’s. In his experiences, people kiss him because they see him as more than a friend. With Y/n, he can’t even tell if they see him as a friend. In a few weeks, they’d gone from absolutely hating his guts, to kissing him in an abandoned bathroom. The sudden switch up makes Jungwon feel like he’s got whiplash.

A sudden commotion of people in the halls causes Jungwon to quickly pull away from Y/n’s lips. The teachers are talking about him - likely wandering the halls in an attempt to track him down and ask for some help. He mentally battles with himself on what to do. Getting caught making out in the bathrooms by teachers is embarrassing for any student, let alone Jungwon. It’d do wonders to his reputation - not in a good way. But on the other hand, he will likely never get the chance to be this close to Y/n again.

Y/n can practically see the dilemma on his face and reaches forward to gently peck his lips. “Go do your job, Prez.” They whisper, reaching up to poke his cheek once more. Jungwon gulps, mumbling a quick apology before stepping away from Y/n completely.

That’s how Y/n finds themself sitting alone in the abandoned bathrooms - the feeling of Jungwon still fresh on their lips despite him being gone for almost 10 minutes now. Jungwon’s not the only one feeling confused, as they sit there wondering what the hell just happened. Kissing him was certainly not part of the original plan. But they suppose if it’ll help with convincing Jungwon to change the dress code… there’s nothing wrong with getting something extra along the way.

TAG LIST (closed): @kang-yeosangs-initials @kpopstanmeg @b1ndignity @soobiverse @dudufodd @mikadorbs @pagesofmiracles @tya0 @ilovewonyo @bringer-ofchaos @huening-ly @ifearjwn @callmeblondie @run2min @straykids-riley (can't tag) @rikimylove @chaechae-23 @lacimolela @n1ght-maring (can't tag) @luvvsjungwonn @yenqa @tzuyusluv @viyqe @vocaloshin @deadgirlwalking3 @flamiricky @hanniesss @grayscorner @wonqr @neozon3nha @beomgyusonlywife @ahnneyong

#dress coded #enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enhypen smau #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen jungwon #jungwon fanfic #jungwon smau #jungwon x reader #jungwon fluff #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen niki #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop smau #kpop x reader #kpop fluff #fanfic #smau #x reader #fluff

[bvtbxtch]

Live from the Upside Down | Eddie Munson

Day Ten of Kinktober

Summary: There is a special Corroded Coffin show in Hawkins to celebrate Halloween. You've been a devoted fan since Eddie started becoming a part of your family, but you haven't seen him in what has felt like forever. Seeing the metalhead again stirs up feelings you forgot you had.

wc: ~3.9k

Pairings: Rockstar!Older!Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader (Older Eddie is 30, reader is 23. Feelings had been secretly mutual for a while, but Eddie did not groom reader and they did not explore any of their feelings until reader was of age and able to make informed consent.)

Warnings: smut smut smut, so this is obviously 18+ MDNI!!! cheating (reader had a boyfriend but was not serious, but don't cheat on your partners, y'all), oral (m receiving), facefucking, swallowing cum, fingering, reference to Eddie being overstimulated, public sex, power and control kink if you squint, Eddie and Reader join the mile high club but is not included in the story.

in collaboration with the amazing @darknesseddiem! stay tuned for their posts later in October!

a/n: thank you for your patience yall. I had a really fucky wucky night and I just could not get this thing done. There will be two posts today, and the potential for there to be two posts on Friday because its my birthday Thursday!! I love you all and thank you for the continued support.

It had been almost 10 years to the day that Eddie Munson had left town. Five years since Eddie had stuck his middle finger up to Hawkins and left everyone and everything behind. It had been 8 years since Corroded Coffin took off and started touring the world. You were 13 when Eddie left, your brother - arguably Eddie’s biggest fan - was 15. The rockstar came back to visit often, opting to stay with your family rather than an empty hotel. Your mom cooked elaborate dinners when he was in town and Eddie would always bring you and Dustin souvenirs from his travels around the world. Eddie was an honorary member of the Henderson clan, but the looks you gave him were always more longing than that of the ‘annoying little sister’. Dustin figured you had a little crush, and that's all you chalked it up to be as well. But even once Eddie would inevitably leave again, you felt your heart shatter. As you got older, you let your fleeting feelings take a back burner as you had casual boyfriends. You hated to admit it, but even when they were around, your mind would wander to Eddie and what he would feel like between your thighs instead of your boy toy for the month.

Eddie hadn’t been shy in sharing his admiration for you, especially when you graduated and even more so when you started going to the bars with Dustin and his friends. Last time he was in town, the three of you had blundered home drunk from the Hideout. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you slapped a kiss onto his cheek.

“I’m happy you’re here, Eddie.” He looked into your glassy eyes with admiration. He kissed you back on your cheek. He smelt of weed and whiskey, but it was home. You felt like you belonged in his arms and the way he held you made you believe he felt the same way. You wanted to kiss him so badly, but your moment was interrupted when Dustin clammored back to the two of you, beers clanging in his hands. There had been stolen glances since then, but never the same moment. That was two whole years ago, and you hadn’t seen him since your last goodbye a few short weeks after.

-

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, a haze of hairspray clouding your vision. You ran your finger across your bottom lip, smudging away any rogue pink stain from your lip liner. Your lashes were fanned out and your eyes had the perfect dusting of glitter for them to pop. Your heart was beating out of your chest with excitement. Dustin’s old Corroded Coffin shirt hung across your shoulders and your legs were showcased effortlessly with a pair of ripped shorts. You were unnaturally excited, not having seen one of your favorite people in the world for unnaturally too long. When Eddie hadn’t been calling as often, but your heart skipped a beat when you saw 5 tickets for Eddie’s Hideout Halloween concert and a note from the rockstar, you couldn’t help but squeal in excitement. Your smile faltered when you looked at the names on the guestlist details in the letter: Dustin Henderson +1, Robin Buckley, and lastly your name scribbled with a +1 beside it. Eddie thought you would have a boyfriend or at least a date that would accompany you. You opted to invite your friend Chrissy, instead of your new boyfriend in hopes to send a message. 

Dustin, Suzy, Chrissy and Robin filed into your family station wagon and you made the short trek across town. Dustin and Suzy had gone as some interpretations of Labyrinth characters. Robin wore her Camp Crystal Lake T-shirt she had gotten from the Goodwill and Chrissy had slipped into her old cheerleading uniform. You opted not to wear any halloween costumes, instead choosing to put on an outfit to highlight your best assets. You crowded into the bustling bar, feeling a warm fuzz in your chest from the shots you had taken with Suzy and Robin. You pushed your way to the front of the busy stage. The lights from the stage filled you with more anticipation. The boys had done their sound check before you arrived - you normally were invited to sound check and to hang out with the band, but apparently they wanted to keep their new sets a secret - so you bounced on your feet, waiting for the empty space to be filled with cheering, buzzing of amps and the thrash of guitar. 

-

The music ran through you like electricity. You danced and jumped and sang along to every song. Eddie’s eyes pierced through yours as he sang the band’s idea of a slower love song, your wide grin made Eddie smirk and blush. In a sea of people, you were the only set of eyes he could connect to; your presence was magnetic and he had forgotten how much he had truly missed you. You had lost the plumpness in your cheeks and your hips swayed gracefully. You were no longer Dustin’s cute little sister, and Eddie finally felt like he could finally act on his most suppressed desires, and he could tell that you were encouraging him to. He poured this desire into his music. Your cohort of friends whooped and screamed at the end of the show, showing Eddie, Gareth, Jeff and Drew the love and appreciation louder than anyone else in the swelling crowd. 

The five of you waited by the front of the stage until a burly man in a tight black T-shirt approached you from the stage. He had his sunglasses on and a mean snarl fastened to his face.

“Eddie wants to see all of you in the green room. Follow me.” The man gave you no time to ask questions, but you all hauled yourselves onto the stage and followed him backstage and down a dimly lit hallway. You giggled. Even Eddie’s wildly successful band couldn’t mask the Hideout for what it really was: a dump. The security guard stopped in the middle of the hallway and gestured to the door on your left. One by one, all of your friends filed in, but you felt a meaty grip on your shoulder. 

“Not you, you follow me.” the guard ordered. None of your people had noticed your swift exit. You were led into the room across the hall. The guard opened the door up for you and you were hurried into the open door. It was closed the second you breached the doorway and you were met with a stark smell of weed and leather couches dimly lit with assorted lamps (that had undoubtedly been retrieved from the Hawkins dump). A familiar head of damp curls and a shit eating grin greeted you, standing from one of the leather couches. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” His voice was low, but the excitement on his face was palpable. Your heart somersaulted as you lunged into his arms. 

“Missed you, Ed.” you muffled into his shirt. 

“Likewise, sweets.” His hands migrated to your waist and he had to restrain himself from grabbing lower or harder. His cool was rapidly slipping. You looked up at him with your big doe eyes. He couldn’t deny that he had fucked his own fist thinking about your eyes looking up at him like that between his own thighs. You pulled away from him like you could sense the burning hot need inside of him. Eddie’s face fell into a frown of want. You were wrapped around his finger already.

“Where is every-” You couldn’t finish your sentence and Eddie had you up against the wall, his lips crashed onto yours. You let out a surprised moan as your lips frantically tried to keep up with Eddie’s assault. You craned your neck up to let Eddie deepen the kiss. With matching moans, you opened your mouth to let Eddie’s tongue explore you. What you wouldn’t give to feel his tongue explore elsewhere…

Eddie pulled away from you with a smack and studied your face, searching for any kind of hesitation. What he found instead was your normally bright eyes dark with lust, your lips were swollen and you bit down hard on your lip. Eddie moaned at the sight of you. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” Eddie cooed into your neck as he began another assault on your clavicle. He sucked hard onto you and when you hissed out in pain, he ran his tongue across the throbbing bruise to soothe it. 

“Eddie…” you huffed. “I-I’ve wanted you since I could remember.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie sneered as he took off his own merch from your body. “That why you brought Chrissy and not some boy, huh? You got a boyfriend I should be worried about?” He spoke into your skin, kissing and licking around the edge of your bra. The contact of your bare back onto the brick wall, along with Eddie’s mouth on you sent goosebumps all over your body. You reached down to his belt buckle to free him from the layer that keeps you from him. 

“So what if I do?” you shoot back. “You gonna stop this and not fuck me?” Eddie let out a dark chuckle as you finally freed him from the confines of his jeans. His head tilted back and you got a glimpse of the rockstar’s delicious neck. It was your turn to begin a barrage of hickies from his pulse point down to his Adam's apple. He hissed as your hands traced over his hardening cock in his boxers. He pushed himself against you, pressing you further into the wall.

“Nah sweets. Just wanna know if I’m gonna steal you away from some poor fuck or not.” Eddie whispered in your ear. “I heard that once you fuck a rockstar, nothing else is the same. So I’m gonna make you so cockdrunk that you’re only going to want me. That sound good, babe? You wanna fuck a rockstar?” You violently shook your head as Eddie grabbed your wrist and sat himself down on the couch behind you. You slotted yourself between his legs on the floor, your arms caging his body onto the couch. 

“Show me how bad you want it, doll. How bad have you wanted me to fuck you, huh?” The man snided. The lines of friendship and the days of being friends had vanished before the two of you, there was no going back and you couldn’t wait to show Eddie how ‘all or nothing’ you could be. 

Eddie’s cock now stood at full attention, making a hard tent in his boxers. He pulled his jeans off of his slender hips and lifted his shirt over his head. You hooked your fingers under the band of his boxers and pulled down, revealing the most beautiful cock you had ever seen. 

Maybe it was because it was Eddie’s or maybe it really was that impressively big, but your mouth watered as soon as he exposed himself. His cock was exceptionally long and girthy, a vein led you from his heavy balls all the way to his pink leaking tip. You licked your lips as you lined your mouth up with Eddie’s cock. You tease him with small kitten licks to his tip, tasting his salty precum and humming in satisfaction. Eddie let out a guttural moan as you sink your mouth all the way to the hilt, breathing out your nose to prevent yourself from gagging. Eddie’s big brown eyes rolled to the back of his head.

“Yeah, doll. That’s a good girl. You’re my good girl.” You hummed into him and you felt his legs shake at the vibrations. 

“Fuck with a mouth like yours, I’ll make you famous. You can have anything you fucking want” Eddie blabbed. “Anything for my girl - fuuuuuck you look so good with my cock in your mouth. I knew you would. Fuck, I got myself off to thinking about your lips around my cock.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes back at the thought of you being Eddie’s girl that he could have any girl in the world and he had still chosen you. You wanted to show him how much you appreciate him choosing you - boring old you from Hawkins, Indiana when he could have models, actresses, other musicians. You wanted to pinch yourself. You guided Eddie’s hands into your hair and he pulled hard. 

“Fuck, my baby like being used as a little fuck toy? Let me fuck that pretty face of yours and ruin that makeup you got on” Eddie chuckled. He pulled your mouth all the way off of his dick, you unintentionally drooled all over him at the loss of contact; but it wasn’t for long, because Eddie slammed back into you, your throat screaming at him for stretching you out. Your eyes stung with tears and Eddie pulled you all the way off and thrust back into your mouth. Eddie gripped you tightly and thrust into your face, probing the back of your throat until you gagged. 

“Jesus fuck, you’re the best little plaything I’ve had. You’re gonna make me cum” the rockstar cooed. His chest was heaving violently and you could feel his cock twitching inside of you. He grabbed your cheeks and pounded into your mouth at an unrelenting pace. You felt as if you were going to pass out from the lack of oxygen but suddenly he paused, his cock twitching and you felt hot and salty ropes of cum coat the back of your throat. You gagged on him, hitting Eddie with another wave of intense pleasure. He pulled himself out of your mouth and stood you up with him. He grabbed at your waist and lunged in to kiss you. Your kisses had minimal feeling but lust. You felt like you were going to combust if you didn’t feel his dick twitch around your soaked pussy. Eddie pushed you into the wall yet again and expertly removed your shorts. His hand went straight to your core and you wrapped your leg around his waist to give him better access. He cupped and rubbed at you, pulling whimper after moan and gasp out of you. The friction was delicious but you needed more, you needed all of him. You needed to give him all of you.

“You’re a needy girl, huh doll? You’ve been waiting for this haven’t you. Tell me how long,” You were putty in his hands. His husky voice sent shivers down your spine and tightened the forming knot in your abdomen.

“I’ve been waiting for longer than I’d like to admit, Eddie.” Your desperate eyes bored into his. You needed to show him how serious you were about it. Eddie stuck his fingers into you, a shit eating grin spreading on his face. He chuckled as you writhed beneath him, his fingers stretching you out expertly.

“Yeah, baby had a crush on me since you were a girl huh? Wanted me since you couldn’t have me?” You screwed your eyes shut as Eddie curled his fingers inside of you. You mouthed a silent ‘yes’, afraid that if you spoke you would disintegrate into nothing. You were so hot, the friction too much. You wanted to cry and beg Eddie to take you and make you feel good, but you knew that your pleas would fall on deaf ears. The man was ready to toy with you. You knew that you would be disposable to you, he could have anyone he wanted, but he was here with you.

“Well doll… I’ll tell you something” he added another finger into your throbbing hole and you clenched down on him. He leaned in so his stubble was brushing against your cheek and his breath fanned down your neck. “I’ve wanted you for a fucking long time.” Your breath hitched in your throat as Eddie pulled back to lock eyes with you. His chocolate irises were still dark with lust, but there was a glint of something more, something you found familiar in your own stare: longing. 

Eddie pulled his fingers out of you and popped them in his mouth with a humm. He pushed you harder up against the wall by your hips, attaching his mouth to yours again. You wrapped both of your legs around his lithe waist. He grabbed his still-hard cock and ran it through your wet folds. You both hiss at the contact, matching desperation to feel the other fully. Eddie slowly sheathed himself in you, letting you get used to the stretch of him. You’ve navigated your way through many sexual encounters, but Eddie most definitely was the biggest, and quickly proved to be the most skilled. A twang of jealousy panged your heart as you pondered how he got so good at making you feel good…

All thoughts were muddled when Eddie pulled out of you and thrust back in. His thick tip hit your G-spot and your legs shook. You knew you weren’t going to last long. Eddie began his relenting pace, his eyes fixed to where your two bodies met. 

“Fuck, this pussy was made for me baby. You’re so tight.”

“F-fuck Eddie you feel so good.” Eddie thrusted harder at your praise. 

“Gonna wreck this pussy for that little boyfriend of yours. Make you so drunk on my cock that you’re gonna leave and dump him. You gonna leave that boy so you can be my plaything, doll?” You nodded your head in agreement. You couldn’t go back to Andy after this. Every other guy was now ruined thanks to Eddie. The man’s hips snapped at an unrelenting pace.

“Gonna fuck all those thoughts out of that pretty head. All you’re gonna think is me.” Eddie gritted his teeth. He wanted to screw his eyes shut to ground himself, but he couldn’t risk not watching you fall apart on him. He was screwing into you so fast you had to bite on your lip to prevent yourself from screaming out in ecstacy. 

Eddie knew you were close. You were clenching down on him like a vice, your breath hitched and your chest heaved so hard he thought your ribs were going to bust out of your chest. Your chant of pleas and praises began. Eddie. Eddie. Eddie.

“Yeah baby, tell me who this pussy belongs to. Say my name.” 

They came out as muffled screams as you tried to contain the waves of pleasure wracking your body. Your beautiful face twisted at the power of your climax. Eddie suckled small hickies onto your shoulders to ease you out of your trance. When your chest ceased heaving and your eyes fluttered open, Eddie pulled himself completely out of you - too overstimulated to cum again. He just wanted to wrap his arms around you. He bent down and grabbed your shorts and shirt as you placed your panties back in the proper position. Eddie felt that if he looked at your doe eyes he would fall apart in front of you, so he handed you your shorts, turned his body away from yours and offered a quiet ‘you should go back to the other dressing room and I’ll follow behind you in a couple minutes’. Your face contorted from satisfaction and adoration to confusion and hurt. You scoffed and began to walk to the door. 

“Nice, Eddie. Nice to know that this was just a quick fuck for you.” You spat, your venom piercing Eddie in the heart. He didn’t want to hurt you, far from it. But you were dangerous, uncharted territory - he didn’t know how to navigate his feelings for you. He lunged at your arm that was holding the handle of the old metal door. You both stared at each other - him with eyes full of sorrow, and yours full of anger. He cautiously pulled his hands up to cup your face and even though you flinched, you let him touch you and pull you into him.

When it was the only sensation to focus on, you concluded that Eddie had the softest lips. They moved expertly against you because he was gentle and doting and wanted to pour every bit of adoration he had for you into it. With his kiss he told you that what he said wasn’t a lie, that he was scared of how much he liked you, how he felt like he could fall in love with you someday. You pulled away with tears in your eyes and your lower lip trembled. Eddie ran his thumb across it.

“Go, and let’s talk about this later. Right now the last thing we need is your brother worrying about you.” Eddie sighed. You nodded your head slowly in understanding. You opened the door and stepped into the fluorescent hallway. With one last longing look at the rockstar, you retreated across the hallway and were gone with the closing of Eddie’s door. The metalhead leaned against the door and took a pull at his curly locks. You really were going to be the death of him… either you or Dustin for fucking his sister - fuck! For being in love with his sister.

“Where the fuck were you?” Dustin snapped when you entered the stuffy room. 

“Bathroom” you dismissed as you skipped over to Eddie’s bandmates to give them hugs and congratulate on the show. Dustin eyed you suspiciously. Something seemed off. You were gone for 10 minutes. He decided to try to push the thought to the back of his mind, but anger bubbled to the surface when Eddie walked in shortly after you, sporting new hickies that definitely weren’t there during the show. His eyes flicked between the two of you and he noticed your own marks threatening to peek out of the shoulder of your t-shirt.

“Eddie!” Dustin boomed. Eddie looked like a deer in headlights as his eyes flash from Dustin’s to yours. 

“Missed you buddy?”

Two months later:

You packed your two small duffel bags and hugged your brother and your friends goodbye. Since Eddie’s show, he has called to talk to you almost every night. He came back for Christmas and New Years. You both told your mother about your budding relationship and although she was concerned about the 7 years between the two of you, she ultimately was relieved that you weren’t hanging out with the loser boys you used to bring home. On New Years Eddie had asked you to go on tour with the band after you shared your midnight kiss. You excitedly agreed, and two weeks later, you were packing your bags to head to the private hangar of the Indianapolis International Airport. The burly security guard picked you up in a sleek black cadillac and dropped you to the biggest private jet you had ever seen. Security man grabbed your bags for you and you trotted up the stairs to the jet. Your metalhead met you at the cockpit with a wide smile and a kiss. You both got comfortable on one of the leather couches behind rows of leather plane seats. There was champagne waiting for you. Eddie handed you a flute and you cheersed.

“Ready to join the mile high club?”

taglist: @sadbitchfangirl @emxxblog @brinleighsstuff @poofyloofy @aol19 @catcrown21 @hideoutside @adrenalineeerevolver @ali-r3n @dark-angel-is-back @keikoraven @kirstinjayjay @eddies-acousticguitar @sluggzillaa @joantje @mmunson86 @filth-fiction-archive @anxiousobserver @vintagehellfire If you would like to be added to my taglist, please fill out this form and follow me!

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson ff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #henderson!reader #rockstar eddie munson #eddie munson x henderson reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson edit #carly writes #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things au #corroded coffin #stranger things s4 #eddie munson brainrot

[yuyulie]

Feel free to ignore everyone but I've just been looking at some of the things I made over the years and its so many things I gave up on lmao 😭😭 I see a bunch of things online, go and recreate them in MD/Blender and most of the time they either don't work in game or the textures look like shit 💀💀 so if anyone wants to see them, check down below 👇🏽👇🏽

Had to go in the whatsapp chat archives with my irl to find this BUT THIS WAS MY FIRST MESH from back in sept 2022 apparently? I was soooooooo proud of myself this took me literally like a week bc of the weights and then the textures and I used the fuck outta this top in my game, every sim of mine was wearing it 🙂‍↕️ lmao but i took a break from the sims in jan '23 bc of my internship and when I came back I was like "OMG this looks like SHIT???

I'll be honest I don't remember ever opening this in game 😭 but apparently this top was like 20k~ polys??? Crazy times

NGL i feel bad abt deleting the first top since i made it for a tiktok cc process vid and people asked me when i was planning on releasing and i was like yea soon 😊 then never did shjdbhjdbfds

THE SANDALS WERE MY FIRST EVER PAIR OF SHOES but the straps would disappear when i made the sims feet bigger 😭 but its fine now i (kinda) learned how to make (very simple) shoes now so maybe ill post some soon 🤞🏽🤞🏽🤞🏽

The hat was cute but in cas my sims would get the question mark when i put it on them i don't know why?? and the bikini belt thing was just meh so i got rid of it

The first top was also my favorite for awhile but the weights were kinda weird, everything else also had the same problems and honestly im glad they did bc they were all ugly af, SUPER high poly and just looked like caca in game thank god i deleted them (there were more things i made in between this and the next pic im abt to show but i don't have any pics soooo)

This hello kitty necklaces I was so proud of and I made SO MANY SWATCHES (18!!!) but bc i always rush to finish everything before getting in game, when i finally checked them they looked real nice im ngl BUT the morphing was sooo bad on small beads😭😭 they looked even worse on the masc frames RIP

I don't have the ref I used for this anymore but it was a really cute bonnet, mine just looked like a crumbled piece of paper plus its from last year so I didn't know how to retopologize or how to sculpt in Blender

This was supposed to come out with one of the simblreen gifts but again I didn't like the morphs but I did use the base of the cross for my other cross necklaces so i guess not completely useless 🤞🏽🤞🏽

Still proud of the lighter but I don't know what I was going for 😪

The mp3 was so fun to make but the weights were kinda weird and I didn't know how to fix them 🙄 (I did ended up using the earphones for the folasade collection 👌🏽)

Both were supposed to come out in the denim set BUT the more I looked at the pants the less I liked them and the skirt I just felt like it didn't belong with the jeans I did release?? its a cute skirt but I haven't felt like releasing it so 🚶🏽‍♀️🚶🏽‍♀️

I made this back when I wasn't mindful of where tops should stop/where the bottom part starts if u don't want any clipping to happen (looking at the heroine top since it also had the same issue but I realised wayyy too late so couldn't go back and fix it LMAO) still its a cute top and I feel like I could fix it in sculpt mode now??? idk

Very high poly 😭

PINKPANTHERESS MY LOVE ♥♥♥ ( I made this around the time I started the follower set so I just kinda forgot abt it, maybe one day I'll go back n finish it)

I think this was the original idea I had for heroine top? I gave up on it bc I just knew the buttons were gonna morph horribly since they sit right on the chest (also i never realised how similar it was to the tiktok top lol)

Ok after this, all the pics are from stuff that was supposed to be on the follower set but this was the original mesh for the dee top and I had to remake it since I couldn't find tops with sleeves of that size to transfer weights from 😭😪 (if that makes sense)

THIS JUST DID NOT LOOK LIKE THE REF 💀💀💀 plus the 'flower' is soooooo bad 😭 sorry to whoever added this pic to the pinterest board I flopped so hard 😖

I just thought the quality of the textures was poor so I didn't even wanna put it up for download 💔 the jean quality I could definitely do better but the sheep patch/stitch(??idk) I couldn't find a clear high quality pic so yea 😪

i LOVED this one but kept having so many problems with it, first the dress was flying off the sim in cas, fixed that then the weights started acting up it was problem after problem lmao maybe one day ill sit down and take a look at it again

Cute skirt but the transparent/lace part would clip a lot

the pants would clip out of the skirt when sims walked and i was very confused since i obviously deleted parts of the jeans that aren't visible but that didn't work so idk

I also loved this headband but it was kinda hard to find a hair that would fit without clipping, if i ever find one I would definitely put it up for download 👆🏽👆🏽

It looks alright in sims4studio (i guess) but in game the textures were kinda blurry

CUTE but i forgot that buttons on the chest have shitty weights/uv's🤐

Thats all for now, I made so many other things but most of the time I just delete them bc i don't have the ability to make them work in game 😞plus I can't stand having files on my pc that im not using bc otherwise they r just taking up space 🤞🏽

#nonsims #some of the things have potential but the weights/uvs are my enemy 😩 #sorry if theres any typos lmao 🙏🏽

[jackfrombaskinrobbins]

baking contest w/ the avengers!!

type of writing: headcanons / scenario

word count: 1k

request: yes / no

original request: OMG CAN U PLS DO THE AVENGERS IF THEY HAD LIKE A COOKING OR BAKING CONTEST?

dynamic: avengers x teen!reader (teenage avenger series)

characters: reader, scott lang, nick fury, clint barton, harley keener, peter parker, miles morales, tony stark, pietro maximoff etc

a/n: HECK YEAH I CAN!!!! i loved this idea sm i was so excited to get this request :D i'm getting back into writing so sorry if it's a lil bad lol. also guys i'm gonna open requests again so feel free to submit!! i have a lot of muse for spiderverse stuff atm hehe so i may post again today!! tysm, hope u enjoy!!!

taglist: @shefollowedthestars @thecloudedmind @ayohitmanddaeng

(fill out this form to be on my taglist!)

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so there’s this thing that the avengers do

in order to do team bonding

they’ll assign partners in the beginning of the year

& each month, a new set of partners will choose something to do

and it’s always super fun

like that’s how u ended up at the trampoline park last month

& how scott ended up with a broken arm rip king

so this month had to be something a little less dangerous

kinda funny when u think about it like it’s literally the avengers they’re in dangerous situations all the time

and while you wanted to do something different, certain ~forces~ kept preventing that

like y’all were watching a movie a couple weeks ago

and fury came on the screen 

how he could hack into it idk hes nick fury dude he can do anything

but he just looked at the camera and said “no more dumbass trampoline parks”

HAH

so yeah it had to be something tame 

anyway so this month was you and scott!!!!

best duo ever!!!!!!

so you had to plan what to do

& scott refused to go skydiving bc that was your first choice

smh scott it would be so fun!!!!

his arm was still broken & he said that was why he wouldn’t go but like…. scott we know ur a scaredy-cat

anyway you were trying to decide when suddenly he was like

“y/n!!!! i totally forgot! the great british baking show just premiered and i promised clint we could watch it together!”

and that gave you an idea

scott LOVED it

but y’all needed a couple things before 

first of all, u needed baking supplies

when i say baking supplies i mean BAKING SUPPLIES

there’s like a thousand avengers at this point bruh :’)

scott almost got one of those instacart orders for it but u hated the thought of an instacart person getting ur crazy order

so it was store time :D 

let’s just say tony’s credit card was used very well that day 😛

then it was time to pick teams

not everyone had to participate

wanda said she wanted in

so pietro joined too which was slightly concerning

the man literally burnt a bowl of cereal once

and ur probably thinking “how—”

EXACTLY

only you and harley saw it and honestly it rendered u both speechless

tony joined too

but you and scott made sure he knew that there could be NO robots 

vision asked to be a judge

scott said “vis, we really appreciate that but… uh… don’t you like not eat?”

“ah! you are correct, scott. i do not consume food in the traditional way. however, given my vast knowledge & global database, i do believe that i would be a very good judge of presentation and overall ingredient chemistry.”

“alright, you do that buddy!”

also off topic but why do i just know that tony would give vision the nickname “chat gpt”

 sorry i had to get that out ANYWAYY

you got a few more people to participate 

sam and bucky wanted to be a team, and harley peter & miles wanted to be a team too

yknow what that was fine by you

so the day came.

you had turned one of the empty conference rooms into a crazy kitchen setup

thx party city for the confetti & balloons!!! ;)

in came your loyal hosts, scott & clint

(clint begged you and scott to let him host, he kept using a british accent until you said yes & just trust me it was good that he finally stopped)

you, natasha, and vision were the taste & presentation judges

you surveyed scott’s & your work, pretty proud of how it turned out

“ALRIGHTY THEN, READY, SET, OFF THE BLIMEY!!”

vision shot you a quizzical look, but you just shook your head.

scott & clint rly were a…. hosting duo

yep, the most… hosting duo of all time

the hostiest hosters to ever host

omg the funniest thing was that they kept eating the cookie dough from harley peter & miles’ station

they literally had to push them away

peter & miles webbed their hands shut HAHA

everyone else seemed to be doing pretty well though

aside from their usual arguing, bucky & sam seemed to actually be making something good

wanda was perfect as per usual

and pietro was zipping around the kitchen, causing tony’s flour to rise up in his face

steve came over, blowing a whistle and pointed at pietro

you and scott had enlisted him to be the referee

yes, cooking shows don’t normally have referees, but think abt the ppl we’re dealing with here 😀

anyways finally time was up!!!

but you and scott still had a trick up your sleeves.

“and now presenting our special guest judge… GIVE IT UP FOR NICK FURY!!”

yes that’s right, he had said yes to this

after you promised to finish a mission report for him

and bought him some new eyepatches

which was why he was wearing a navy blue one complete with rhinestones

pietro was up first, and he placed four slices of chocolate cake in front of all the judges.

“i gotta say p, this actually looks really good!” you spoke, and he beamed.

natasha didn’t look so sure

“as y/n says, it does look alright on the outside. however, it does seem like there’s some sort of… strange ingredient in the chemical makeup… i am going to analyze for a moment.” said vision

“aw, let’s just eat the damn thing already!” fury spoke, and so you all did.

“mm, it’s good!!” you said, and natasha nodded in agreement.

but did not have the same reaction. 

he had stopped chewing, and his eye had narrowed. he was giving pietro a death stare.

“uhm… fury? what is … jolly wrong with you?” scott asked, his british accent wavering.

“yeah… guv’nr?” said clint.

“who the hell puts hot sauce in a damn chocolate cake. you better start runnin’ maximoff, because i’m comin’ for you!!” fury spoke, getting progressively louder.

“that one was supposed to be for y/n- i mean vision! yeah! oops. um…” pietro spoke, before disappearing from the room in a quick streak.

after that, fury left. 

and that's why now cooking/baking competitions are banned on the premises of SHIELD!!

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#mcu headcanons #marvel headcanons #marvel #mcu #mae's requests #avengers headcanons #bucky barnes #sam wilson #steve rogers #tony stark #pietro maximoff #scott lang #clint barton #nick fury

[thesullengrrrl]

We'll Meet Again

When retired time traveler Elaine Byrne accidentally goes back to 1941, she meets Robert Rosenthal on the eve of his enlistment.

Author's note: I wrote this fic few weeks ago and I only now had the guts to post it here in Tumblr. Thank you to the lovely people who read and commented my work in AO3. If you prefer to read there, I got you...here's the link. I've not written for a long time, so I hope you will enjoy this. Thank you! ❤️

Chapter 1: a time traveler walked into a bar

For the past three years, Elaine Byrne avoided being alone in dark enclosed spaces or visualizing vivid sceneries with her eyes closed. Whenever she feels bad about life, she smokes in the nearest smoking area or writes it down in her journal.

However, this time it was different. 

This time she forgot that she’s not supposed to go inside the restaurant’s cold room on her own. It was Friday and the chef was chewing her ear off over a wrong order. Her energy was already depleted and all she wants to do is go home. Almost instinctively, she went straight to the cold room to shed some tears. 

As she walked back to the dining area, faint jazz music could be heard. It grew louder as she continued on, and Elaine does not remember a band being hired that night. A male waiter almost bumped into her, half-shouting, “Hey! You can’t be here!” She took note of his uniform. It was a shirt with a bow tie, black pants and a white apron covering half his pants. 

The sight of her destination surprised her. 

It was the same dining area, with stage and piano in it, except that the people now are wearing clothing from a bygone time. Men were in suits, women in knee length dresses with slightly defined shoulders. The upholstery and furniture are no longer the same color. The air was filled with smoke and the smell of alcohol and sweat made her gag a little. 

She has done it again. The very activity she avoided for the past three years. With this realization, she went to the bathroom and luckily, it’s still in the same place where she remembered it.

Picking the last sink in a row, she opened the faucet, and splashed some water on her face. When she finally faced the mirror, her mouth fell open. Besides from the water droplets falling from her face, her makeup is not her usual. She now has a redder lip and defined eyebrows. Her brown hair is now curled and pinned in ways she would never do. 

She took some paper towels on the side and dabbed her face in it. This time, Elaine took a longer moment to observe the image in the mirror. Aside from the makeup, she finally noticed her change of clothing. No longer in her trusty vested white polo and black slacks, but now she’s donning a dark red dress with slightly puffed sleeves and triangular cut outs on the collar. It was slightly figure hugging, which highlighted her curves that were often lost in her waitress uniform. Elaine held up her hand and touched the mirror’s surface. It’s me. This makes me feel like Peggy Carter minus the combat skills.

She was about to go when she heard heels clicking towards her direction. For some reason, she locked herself in one of the stalls and someone started sniffing and a vague ‘There, There’ could be heard. 

“Oh Mabel,” a high pitched voice said. “At least he let you down gently and did not lead you on. You know Beth in Accounting? Her man just left her without a word!” 

“That’s because he’s just feeling sorry for me!” Mabel cried. “I already thought about the wedding we could’ve had, Jo.” 

Jo audibly sighed. “Mabel, you know you were only seeing him for three weeks, right?” 

“He’s dreamy and nice! A lawyer! And my cat even likes him!” 

Mabel’s own statement made her cry even more. 

“I know, but at least he let you down gently. He has a point. You don’t have to wait around for him anymore,” Jo comforted. 

The two women she was eavesdropping kept quiet for a little after that. Then she heard the faucet running and paper towels being ripped off. A few clinking more and she heard someone exhale loudly. 

“Are you ready to say goodbye?” Jo asked. 

A sniff. “Okay, let’s go, Jo.” 

“That’s more like it,” Jo replied. Their heels started clicking away from the bathroom. Elaine waited for a minute or two just to make sure they weren’t coming back and she emerged from her stall. 

She gazed at the mirror one last time and exited. Inhaling the strong scents of tobacco and alcohol, she scouted for a place to sit in. It was hard to see who’s sitting alone or not at first glance, so she slowly dragged her feet, hoping for the one.  

Instinctively, she touched her side and thanked the heavens for its pockets. She reached in and instead of a phone, she felt a small notepad, a pencil and coins. Helpful .

Finally, she saw her target.

The one was a lone, mustachioed man with a half-empty glass of beverage in front of him. He seemed to be in deep thought while his fingers were tapping the table in tune with what was being played on stage. He looks nice. Taking a deep breath, Elaine strode towards his table and pulled a chair beside him. He was startled with the sound of chair legs against the floor.  

“What–” 

“Hi there,” Elaine greeted, flashing her best smile. “Great night?”

“It was until I heard the news,” the man replied. She was about to ask what was the news but he beat her to it. 

“The Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor.” 

“Oh, that’s what it is,” Elaine realized. “A woman in the bathroom was crying because her boyfriend was enlisting.” 

The information made the man perk up and turned to her. “Was she blonde? In a purple dress?”

“I don’t know. I was hiding in one of the stalls.”

This amused the man beside her. “What? Why were you hiding?” 

“I was having a moment, then I heard them come in. They were coming in fast, click click click, so I hid. Then someone started crying and I didn't want to intrude, so I stayed there.” Elaine explained.

“‘They’?” he asked. 

“Yeah. Two women. Jo and Mabel,” she shared. 

“Ah, yes. They were with me earlier. Mabel wanted to go home, so I guess it’s official now.” 

Elaine scrunched up her nose. “Ah, that sucks, man. Too bad her cat loves you.” 

“Hmmm. Yeah, Mr. Giggles.” 

“Although,” she started. “You do know you could be in a relationship while overseas, right?”

He shook his head. “I can’t afford to have any distractions. And I don’t want life to pass her by because she was waiting for me. What if I never return?” 

“What if you do?” she countered. “Have a little faith.”

“How do you know that?” 

She kept quiet, feeling like his question was rhetorical. He has a point. When he’s on the battlefield, the chances of him coming back are slim to none. 

As the band played another tune, the upcoming war entered her mind. This man is enlisting in the army tomorrow to fight Nazis. Jesus Christ, what was the closest thing she could experience to that? The thing that came to her mind was nothing compared to going to war on the other side of the world.

“Oh well. You’ll meet other women,” she assured him. Then she proceeded to scan his appearance. “You’re tall, handsome, and that pornstache would definitely rake in the girls.��

“Porn-what?” he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

Elaine closed her eyes at her words. Her hand went to her head, scrunching her eyes to think of what to say. Of course, the day she dreaded finally came. The day where her weird attraction to 70s mustaches will be her downfall. 

“Never mind. It’s your mustache,” she corrected, motioning his face. “And those baby blue eyes? Ridiculous.”

Her companion was about to answer when a blond man came to their table. 

“Good evening, Miss.” 

It took her a moment to realize that a man standing on their table was referring to her. She smiled at him. The man she was with eyed the stranger with suspicion. “Hello there.” 

“The tune’s pretty swell, can I dance with you? Miss…?” 

Elaine scanned the man’s appearance. He was tall and thin with wide shoulders and almost white hair. He seemed to be in his mid-twenties. Who are you supposed to be, Draco Malfoy?

“I’m Elaine,” she introduced. You are?”

“Albert.” 

For a moment, her mission of attempting to know which year she was in felt futile. What’s a little dancing when you’re time traveling? Without taking a second look to her companion, she nodded and took the man’s hand and made their way to the dance floor. With their hands on their proper positions, they started swaying to the music. 

They were having a nice conversation until the guy started to lean in for a kiss. She managed to avoid this and his lips landed on her cheek. The reek of alcohol from his mouth made her wince. She gave him a fake smile, hoping that all of this will be over soon. They swayed once again, but this time she felt his hand moving from the small of her back to her butt and grabbed it. 

Her eyes widened and pushed him away. This made a mini domino effect on the other couples on the dance floor, earning them weird looks and glares.

“Back off,” Elaine warned. 

This did not deter him and took it as a challenge instead. 

“Aww, baby, you’re feisty. I like that,” Albert taunted, cornering her like a prey. 

Elaine took short breaths to calm herself, her right hand slowly turning into a fist.

Suddenly, a loud thud of falling tables was heard. The music stopped. 

“Fight! Fight!”

He rushed where the scream was. He was observing her in a distance to somewhat guard her, as if she was someone he needed to look after. The man she was dancing with did not seem trustworthy enough for him, especially when he saw his companions laugh at them for some reason. 

The blond man was bleeding out of his nose while she was grunting in pain.

“Fuck you!” Elaine yelled.

He went to her and took her hand. “What happened?” 

“That asshole,” Elaine growled, pointing to the man on the floor, “was feeling me up!”

A small crowd gathered where they were. One older man lunged at Elaine’s curly haired companion and started throwing punches. He missed and continued pursuing. Elaine jumped into the brawl, attempting to break them apart. Few patrons, probably thrilled with this sudden turn, dove in as well, unknown whether to pull her out of the commotion or punch the other guy.

It continued on for a few minutes until someone blew a whistle.

The crowd departed and it revealed a portly, semi-bald man with a whistle hanging on his neck. 

“WHAT ON EARTH IS HAPPENING HERE?” he roared. Those in the brawl slowly detached themselves from each other. Everyone was in varying degrees of bleeding and pain, most especially that man who felt up Elaine. 

The portly manager glared at all of them then his eyes filled with recognition. “Robert? Is that you, boy?” 

Elaine looked at who he was referring to. 

It was the lonely, mustachioed man who broke up with Mabel. His name is Robert.

He does look like a Robert, Elaine thought. The carefully gelled curly hair, neat mustache, smell of manly perfume with hints of tobacco and alcohol…It’s like she was transported to a 1940s movie with Cary Grant as the lead star and she’s the fast-talking femme fatale. 

“Minty!" Robert smiled and shook hands with the man as if there were no two slightly injured persons in front of them. The manager pulled him from the floor and when they stood up, he towered over Minty.

“Minty, I’m so sorry about the mess. This guy made moves on my friend and she just defended herself. I had to jump in,” he explained.

“Picking fights already? Save some for those Nazis!” Minty exclaimed. He snapped his fingers and two broad men appeared. He ordered the troublemakers to be taken outside the club.

Robert only smiled sheepishly. Minty seemed charmed by this and asked both of them to follow him. Elaine looked at him suspiciously. “Where are we going?”

“I know him, don’t worry,” he assured her. 

The trio entered a small office. The walls were painted red and there was a sturdy table that is the main piece of the room. It has a matching leather chair behind it and several crates of alcohol stacked up to the ceiling. Papers are haphazardly piled up and a clothes rack near the window. It felt like a claustrophobic’s nightmare. 

“Sit down, sit down, kids,” Minty motioned to the two leather chairs in front of the table. The two sat and Elaine’s eyes laid at the calendar hanging behind Minty. 

DECEMBER 1941

Ah, fuck. Wrong guess! All of the numbers on the first row were crossed except for number seven. They watched Minty pour three glasses of whiskey (or scotch?) and gave them one each. 

“What’s your name, doll?” 

“I’m Elaine. Elaine Byrne.”

“So, how did the two of you meet?” Minty asked, eyeing the two of them. 

“Um–” Elaine started. Robert covered her hand and started talking. 

“We only met tonight. Mabel stormed out when she found out I was enlisting. Told her I don’t want her waiting for me while I fight.” 

Minty nodded in understanding. “I wouldn’t take it away from Rosie to meet a girl after breaking up with one!” 

Elaine glanced at the two men curiously. 

“Why is that, Minty?” she questioned. “Is Rosie here a player?” 

This made Rosie blush a little. Minty shook his head. 

“No, doll, he’s a lawyer! He sweet talks for a living!” 

Elaine turned to her companion. “A lawyer, huh? Interesting.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Rosie confirmed. “Although, I don’t sweet talk anyone, Minty.” 

“Tell that to anyone who would listen, Rosie.”

“Why is he called Rosie?” Elaine wondered, looking at Minty. “Is it the rosy cheeks?” 

“Ah, it’s because of his surname. Rosenthal. Only friends and family are allowed. That’s why I only called him that in here,” Minty informed her. 

Elaine listened to the two men catch up with their lives. Rosie confirmed his enlistment tomorrow, and Minty seemed to be worried about his young friend. Rosie is a strapping young man of twenty-four and Minty said that America joining the war will be a bloodbath. 

“I will be fighting for my people and country, Minty,” Rosie solemnly reasoned. “These people we will be protecting, they can’t fight for themselves, can they?”

“You seem like you made up your mind quite fast,” Minty observed. Rosie only nodded. 

The three of them sat in silence. Elaine was feeling a bit uncomfortable with it, so she downed the glass of amber liquid given to her. She coughed a little, for she rarely drinks this type of liquor. Call her childish, but she would rather sit happily with her colorful drinks with an umbrella in it than pretend to be like Don Draper. “What is it, whiskey?”

“Scotch,” the older man confirmed. “Too strong for you?” 

Elaine agreed. “Yeah.”

When she finished the drink, Rosie stood up. “We better be going now, Mint.”

“Say hi to your mother for me,” Minty told Rosie. He nodded. 

“Thank you for the scotch,” Elaine said, waving Minty goodbye. The two made their way back to the dining hall. They did not see Minty smiling at the sight of them.

The band was playing something more slow, and the atmosphere felt like no brawl happened. However, it felt more somber. Maybe it’s the music that the band was playing. The dance floor seemed shinier, the lights dimmer, and couples are dancing closer than ever. It was probably the news of the Pearl Harbor attack that made them rethink the time they have. 

For them, it’s only the beginning. 

For Elaine, it’s only looking at the past at a closer look. Beyond the bigger picture that history books offer. She is no longer reading these big events in a book, but the individuals that will soon be affected by this attack. 

For a night, she’s one of them. 

Rosie was observing her as she watched the dance floor. Her hair is still quite a mess after the brawl and yet, the out-of-place hair strands seemed to be framing her face instead. She seemed oblivious to any of the music being played, but then maybe she’s not a fan of jazz and prefers something else. 

This strange, pretty woman felt like trouble. Minutes within meeting her, and he was already fighting in a brawl for her. He never did that to any girl he went out with. He felt guilty about what happened between him and Mabel and maybe he’ll think about it tomorrow still. 

But he cannot deny wanting to get to know Elaine more after tonight. 

“Let’s dance, Rosie,” Elaine invited, extending her hand to him. Rosie gazed at her hand, thought about it, and took it. She pulled him into the dance floor, slightly squeezing in among the sea of couples. He placed his hands on its proper positions and she did the same. Slowly, they swayed along, closer than ever.

“Is it okay if I call you Rosie? Minty said only friends and family are allowed to call you that,” she wondered aloud. 

“You’re already calling me Rosie anyway, so go ahead.” 

“What were you thinking about earlier?” 

“When?” 

“When I asked you to dance, you’re deep in thought. Any thoughts you want to share?” 

He sighed. “You won’t let this go, won’t you?” 

“Nope,” she smiled. “I want to hear it.” 

“I was thinking about what you said. That maybe I’ll come back from the war alive? Have a little faith?” 

Elaine glanced at her side, suddenly feeling shy. She was only trying to encourage him to take a chance on romance during the war. She did not realize he would pick on it and discuss it further. 

“Well, going to war alone seemed like a sad thing to do. Sure, it might be invigorating for you as a man, getting in combat and all, but what happens when you’re all alone in some trench?” Elaine explained. 

“I can write letters home,” he reasoned. 

“But can you share what you’ll see in the field with them?” 

“I can’t share it with my imaginary girlfriend either, Elaine.”

With no answer to give him anymore, she rolled her eyes. Rosie caught it and found it endearing.

“Speechless? No rebuttal?” Rosie challenged.

“Shut up, Robert.”

“So it’s Robert now when I annoy you?” he teased.

“Yes, Robert,” she pointed out, trying to hide a grin. 

Rosie pulled her a little closer and she felt his hands get a little sweaty. She tried not to chuckle, but her body reacted before it was too late. The band played another new song, and when she glanced at him, she watched him mouth the words.

“Do you know this song?” she asked. 

“We’ll Meet Again,” he replied, looking down at her.

“I doubt that, Rosie.” 

Rosie chuckled at her. “Silly. I mean, it’s the title. We’ll Meet Again.” 

She rested her head at his chest, once again embarrassed by her blunder. “Oh god. I’ve been just an embarrassing person all night, am I?” 

“This is the most interesting night I’ve had for a while. Don’t worry about it,” he assured her.

She only nodded. She took in his scent, and wondered if he noticed it. I hope he didn’t. But maybe he did. My inhale was pretty obvious. As the song went on, Elaine thought of why she is here at this very moment. She could’ve been back in Minton’s by now by going back where she came from—in the cold room. 

Instead, she stayed and now slow dancing with a man she just met. 

Elaine stopped time traveling on purpose three years ago. It was once an exciting thing to discover at eighteen, but now at twenty-six, it felt like an unhealthy coping mechanism. She made mistakes on those travels and made her run away from her life. She stayed far too long in some places and saw the consequences blow right up to her face. 

However, tonight, she did not time travel on purpose. 

And there must be a reason why it happened.

The song finished and everyone clapped. Rosie and Elaine removed their hands from each other and joined the crowd. Backing away from the dance floor, they sat in an empty booth.

As she stared at Rosie, she knew she had to go home. Rosie felt her eyes at him and they spent a good few seconds memorizing each other’s details, like taking a photograph. Elaine took in his blue eyes and the styled curly mop of hair, while Rosie gazed at her hazel green eyes and a small scar on her forehead. She wondered how it would appear if not styled with sticky gel. Rosie blushed a little at the intensity of her gaze, smiling shyly at her. Elaine chuckled at how ridiculous and romantic it all must have looked like. 

A gentleman with a big camera managed to capture this romantic scene. The blinding flash  surprised the two, making them jump in their seats. The bulb was still smoking.

“I’ll send it to Minty once it’s developed!” the man with a camera said. “You’re one good looking couple!”

“That’s one big camera,” Elaine observed. “That flash almost blinded me!”

He laughed at her observation. “Will they ever make a flash bulb less blinding?”

“I don’t think so,” she answered, smiling.

They settled for a moment and Rosie waved at a waiter. The waiter was quick at his feet and reached them. However, Elaine grabbed his arm to stop him. “I need to go home now.”

“Oh, is that so?” he asked, a slight disappointment in his tone. The waiter seemed to sense this and looked at Elaine. She lifted her head to dismiss him, which the waiter did.

“Yeah, it’s quite late and I’m on opening shift,” she reasoned. It was true though. 

“If that’s the case, I’ll take you home,” he declared. “Where do you live?” 

He can’t take you home! You don’t live in 1941, girl!

“Just a few blocks away, but I’ll be fine. I’ll walk.” 

He looked at her with disbelief. “Elaine, I’ll walk you home. Or at least call you a cab. You can’t walk by yourself at this hour after what happened.” 

“I can. I can throw in a punch, you know.” 

“Elaine, no.” 

The way Rosie said her name made her melt a little. That deep dulcet tone with a hint of concern (or was it disappointment with hardheadedness) made her rethink about her decision to leave. One more drink can’t hurt, right?

“Fine. But first, I need to go to the ladies’ room,” she said. 

“All right. I’ll wait here.” 

Elaine made her way to the ladies’ room, her heart beating so fast it’s the only thing she could hear. This is the moment she leaves him. It has to be. Damn that dulcet voice for making her doubt. When she reached the ladies’ room, she took the notepad and pencil inside her pocket and quickly scribbled. After that, she folded it neatly and got out. She waved to the same passing waiter who almost took their order earlier.

“Yes, ma’am?” the waiter said. 

“Can you pass this to the gentleman with the mustache?” she requested, pointing him to Rosie who was chatting with an elderly man.

“You mean Rosie? No problem, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. When the waiter was out of sight, she made her way to the turn. She wondered if she would take one last look at Rosie. But she decided against it. 

The storage room was there, waiting for her. Sighing, she took one last look at her surroundings, checking if she was being watched. Then she slid the door and entered. 

She murmured and closed her eyes.

Moments later, there’s knocking at the door. “Elaine! Get out! I need some supplies!” 

Maybe we’ll meet again, Rosie.

“Coming, Bunny!” 

—

When Elaine left to go home, the new busboys were left after they cleaned up the place. They sat to rest before actually going home. One of them, Jerry, was looking at the wall filled with pictures and memorabilia from old patrons and past owners from different decades. Their jazz club had been open since the late 1930s and it could feel like a museum sometimes. 

While he was scanning the frames, one picture stood out to him. It was a photo of a couple in a booth, staring at each other adoringly. The picture seemed like straight from a movie scene, which made Jerry think if it was a screenshot from an unknown movie of the time. 

He leaned in closer and noticed the woman in the photo. She looked like one of their waitresses. Elaine! But the woman in the photo was with better hair and of course, wearing vintage clothing. She was gazing at the mustachioed man as if studying him, and the man was doing the same to her. They looked cozy and adorable.

“Hey Bunny, look at this,” Jerry called. The woman he was calling came to him almost immediately.

“What is it, Jer?” she asked. 

“She looks a lot like Elaine, no?” 

Bunny leaned in as well to check the photo. “Oh yeah, she does. Maybe her grandma or something?”

“Maybe,” Jerry replied. 

“We’ll tell Elaine tomorrow,” Bunny said.

What the two failed to notice was the small inscription at the lower right edge of the photo. It said:

Rosie & Elaine, 1941

#masters of the air #we'll meet again #mota #mota fic #masters of the air fic #rosie rosenthal #time travel #oc: elaine byrne #time travel au #rosie rosenthal x oc

[zodiyack]

Flowers

Pairings: Eddie Munson x reader

Warnings: fluff, swearing

Request: reader who would always give eddie hand picked flowers because she liked him but once they got to high school they went their separate ways until eddies birthday when he wakes up and flowers are waiting for him outside his door

Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

Taglist: @dpaccione, @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @sebby-staan​ sorry i forgot to add others, i posted this directly from my drafts

As the little boy brushed the dirt from his knees, he felt a presence looming above him. This presence did not instill fear, but joy. He knew this presence. He looked up to meet the eyes of the girl he'd been thinking about all morning.

She greeted him with a shy smile and reached out to help him up, her other hand behind her back with items hidden. "You're quite clumsy, Eddie."

He chuckled nervously, his cheeks beet red as he avoided her eyes. "I just tripped, that's all."

Her laugh made his stomach churn with butterflies. "Here, I picked these from my mother's garden for you." He watched her move her other arm out with a little bouquet of mixed flowers. Every day she gave him one, different flower combinations each time. Happily, he accepted the gift and thought to himself nervously.

Just as he was about to lean in and peck her on cheek, her mother called her inside, causing her to smile at him softly and walk away after telling him goodbye. Little Eddie beat himself up every day for years for that missed opportunity.

Eddie sighed and dragged himself out of bed, his heart heavy with the love that never died. He fell for her long ago, but she was gone now. The last time he saw her was a week before highschool started. The two were so excited about becoming freshmen, but the excitement didn't last long. She moved away and his heart shattered.

"Eddie... I have to tell you something." She sighed, avoiding his eyes as to not worry him with her glossy ones.

"Yeah? What's up?"

"I..." Her voice quivered for a second, ripping Eddie's attention away from the log he was attempting to balance on. "I'm moving in a few days."

At first he laughed, denial at its finest. But then he saw her face. Nose red from crying, eyes watering to the brims, bags under her eyes. How had he not noticed? "W-what?"

"I don't want to...but my mom...we have to move." She wiped her tears away and reached behind her. Another bouquet. He'd received one every day since they met. Unfortunately he had a daunting feeling that this would be one of the last ones. "Remember me whenever you see flowers, yeah?"

He nodded, staring at the flowers in his hand. She sniffled and moved to go around him, but she was caught off-guard as he pulled her into him, the scent of nature and honey filling his senses, smoke and cologne filling hers. Neither of them wanted to let go, but the time came when they were required to go their separate ways.

Eddie looked into her eyes, her e/c orbs taunting him, her lips tempting. He was about to lean in, when the opportunity slipped by once again, his uncle calling out and him cursing the man under his breath in return. They hugged each other once more and said their goodbyes.

The day of the move came, and all he could do was hug her and receive one last bouquet.

He wiped his teary eyes and got ready for the day to come. As he left the trailer, he began to dwell on the time. It was nearing his birthday, and all he could do was think about the girl who remembered it when no one else did. Just when he tried to think of anyone, anything but her, she clouded his mind.

Hellfire Club was still functional and a great topic for his focus, especially when it came to campaigns. Why not think of a new one? Perhaps one with a cute little maiden who gifts the adventurers flowers after they aid her on a side quest?

'Fuck.' Eddie thought. 'cute little maiden? Flowers?' even in his attempt to drown her out of his mind, she just kept finding ways to peek out and into the spotlight. All throughout the day, she was his main focus. His only thought.

Normally, it wasn't this bad. He had dreams about her, in fact, he'd been having them since the day she left. He couldn't pass by flowers of any type in any place for arrangement without thinking of her. The scent of any flower to exist drove his mind to her. But why was she more active in his mind lately?

Eddie got home and lied on his bed. Still no clue as to why his long lost crush suddenly became the main character of his thoughts. The curiosity kept him awake until dawn, cause and effect taking place the next night, effect having him pass out almost at the exact second his head hit the pillow. She was in his dreams that night, clearer than ever. Her smile shining and warming his heart, her laugh sending butterflies into his stomach and making his head dizzy with how flustered he was.

Reality set in once again when he woke up, shaking his head as he tried to get a grip. He rubbed his eyes, yawned and stretched as per usual. Eddie went through his morning routine, head still hostage by the girl. She was so entrancing, he forgot to eat, and tried to head directly out the door the instant he was finished getting ready.

However,

Something was in his way. Halting all thoughts and actions, Eddie looked down at the object in front of him curiously. He picked it up, closing his eyes as he inhaled through his nose. The scent was more familiar than any other he'd smelt the past few years. He moved the flowers around, the crinkle of newspaper wrapped around the homemade bouquet echoing throughout his trailer as he did so. A note slipped out from between the flowers. Shifting his attention to the loose paper, he read it carefully with a full heart.

He knew that handwriting anywhere.

"I hope these jogged your memory. I missed you." A little heart beside the last word made his own full and begin to beat faster. "Happy birthday, Eddie."

#x reader #reader insert #zodiyack #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader #joseph quinn #joe quinn #joseph quinn x reader #request #eddie munson x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #stranger things reader insert #eddie munson reader insert #joseph Quinn reader insert #stranger things fanfic #fanfic