#Normal house front elevation designs

[mead-iocre]

Our New Normal Pt. 3 | Leah Williamson x Reader

Our New Normal 3/4 (pt.1) (pt.2)

Ding. 

The ding of the elevator interrupts your train of thought. The closer you are to her flat, the more nervous you are about the inevitable. You had to tell her tonight. You had to tell Leah that you are transferring to Arsenal. This was the first time you had ever kept something so important from your best friend. The guilt was nearly eating you up inside and while you were nervous about how she might react to your news, you were ready to get rid of the weight baring down on your shoulders during the past couple of weeks. 

You are gently pulled out of the elevator by the blonde, one of your hands tightly clasped in hers. You and Leah walk the short journey to her front door, the warm sensor lights illuminating the way as you walk further down the familiar hallway. It’s hard to ignore the way your steps are synchronised, a reminder of how easy and effortless it feels like to be with the Arsenal defender. 

But that could all change after tonight. 

You begin to tug your hand out of hers so she can grab her house key, but she tightens her grip. Instead, Leah uses the hand that was pulling your luggage to fish out her key from the pocket of her trousers to unlock the front door. Your hand was safely intertwined in hers the entire time. This was normal. While Leah has always been an affectionate person, especially with you, you had a feeling that this was more than that. You had no doubt that the blonde can probably sense the change in your mood– she could read your cues and signals better than anyone. Leah could probably tell that you are pulling away from her, even if she doesn’t know the reason why, and she was stopping you from doing so. Literally.         

——————————————

You never realised how much you detested coats and jackets, but now you have come to the realisation that they weren’t your favourite thing. First of all, some coats on the market aren’t insulated enough to keep you warm, and it can be very hard to find the perfect coat without spending so much money. Secondly, having a coat on meant that you have no choice but to let go of Leah’s hand in order to slip off your coat. Once your hand left hers, you immediately miss the comfort it provided. Not only were you enjoying the feeling of her hand in hers, but it gave you something to focus on instead of the onslaught of worrying thoughts that have begun to fill your mind. Every insecurity, doubt and uncertainty about how this night was going to go were now on the forefront of your mind. 

“Right. I’m gonna order a takeaway” Leah walks over to switch the lights on, and her entire flat comes to life. She drops her keys onto the porcelain trinket tray that you had bought for her and wanders further into her flat. Leah has a tendency to misplace her keys, so you suggested setting up a designated place where she can leave her keys and so far there haven’t been any incidents. Yet.

You follow in behind her, slipping your feet into a pair of shearling slippers that the blonde had bought for you a few months ago. They were terribly overpriced, thanks to the iconic “H” cut-out that proudly boasts the luxury designer, but you couldn’t refuse her very expensive gift when she had excitedly pulled out a matching pair for herself.

Walking straight into the lounge, you spot the merinos wool throw blanket that you had bought and left at her house. It was also a very expensive purchase, and not one you would usually make, but you justified it by saying it’s for both of you. You and Leah would nestle underneath the blanket together whenever you were watching trashy tv shows on her sofa. By the corner of the window, you see the Kentia Palm plant, nestled in a ceramic plant pot, that you routinely nag the blonde to mist regularly. The bookshelf across the sofa proudly displays frame photographs of the most special people in Leah’s life. Some with family, some with friends, and some with you. There were pictures from your early years at England camp, playing for the youth teams. There were also photos outside of football, photos that never made the instagram feed and were only just for your eyes.

There are remnants of you all over her home. 

After delivering your luggage to the guest room, she walks over to you and cups your rosy cheeks in her hands. “Put something comfy on and warm up, baby.”

It wasn’t long before you and Leah were seated at the table, a selection of all of your favourite Chinese takeaway dishes spread out in front of you. The aroma of sweet and sour chicken wafted through the air, mingling with the savoury scent of beef and broccoli; crispy spring rolls beckoned from their perch on a porcelain plate, making it almost difficult to choose which dish to taste first. Without further hesitation, the both of you began to tuck in. Together, you both sampled each dish with gusto, comfortable conversation and shared laughter filled the usual silence of the defender’s flat. Leah animatedly told a story about the time Kyra pranked a few of the girls on the team by hiding their boots and shin pads around the training grounds and sending them on a wild goose chase to find them.

As the meal drew to a close, you both leaned back in your chairs, sated and content. Now  was probably the right time to tell the Arsenal defender about your transfer. You put your chopsticks down and turn your gaze at your best friend. 

“Leah, can we talk…”

“Sounds serious.” Leah puts her own pair of chopsticks down on top of her napkin before she pushes her plate to the side. “You alright?”

“Yeah. I-it’s nothing bad. At least I hope not for you” 

Leah leans forward in her seat. There’s a small smile on her face, but her eyebrows are furrowed slightly in concern. “You’re making me nervous, baby” 

“I wanted to talk to you about my transfer…” 

“Look, y/n.” 

A brief pause of silence. 

Leah takes a deep breath before continuing “I want you to know that I wouldn’t be mad if you signed for Chelsea. Honestly. It is still fucking weird to think about it though and I’m seriously considering knocking you on the head a few times– but if they had put down an offer and you want it then go for it.”

“That’s great, Lee, but-“

The blonde runs a hand through her hair in frustration, a habit she must’ve picked up from being around you so often. “I still can’t believe Arsenal didn’t put down an offer– I mean, you’re one of the best midfielders in the world right now. Seriously.” 

“Lee–“

“Although it’s a bit weird that you would still consider playing for my rival club, like among all the wsl teams out there, you chose the club that happened to my club’s direct rival– wait does that mean we’re rivals now–” 

“LEAH”

“WHAT”

“I signed for Arsenal”

One breath in, one breath out. 

Two beats of your pulse. 

“…fuck off.” 

“Leah!”

“Don’t fucking joke about that” You wince at the sound of her chair scrapping against the hardwood floors as the blonde abruptly stands up. Her hands on her hips, face flushed red in anger. Annoyance even, perhaps. Her lips are pressed together firmly and her eyebrows are still furrowed. 

“I’m not fucking joking. I signed for Arsenal” 

Silence. 

Two more beats of your pulse. 

“Y/N listen to me– my heart is up to my fucking ears right now, and I swear to bloody god if you are saying all this just to have a laugh–“

The blonde in front of you begins to gesture wildly, hands pointing here and there but her posture remains stiff. A flicker of uncertainty danced across her gaze, mirroring the storm of thoughts that were probably racing through her mind at this very moment. The slight tremor in her hands betrayed the internal struggle as she sought to manage the anxiety probably bubbling within.

Every so often, Leah’s lips parted as if she wanted to speak, but it was as if the words remained trapped in the hesitancy of the moment. A subtle, rhythmic tapping of her foot on the floor betrayed the restlessness, a visual of the nervous anticipation coursing through her veins. You hear an audible hitch in her next inhale 

and then silence again.

You give into the silence for a moment. Your own hands are trembling and your heart was pounding but you want to give the girl in front of you the time to process it. It takes a lot to leave Leah Williamson speechless, and if it were a different situation you would’ve teased and bragged about how you had been the one to leave her completely speechless.

But now was not the time to joke around.

After another moment of silence, you could not take it anymore. The quiet was almost suffocating at this point, when it reality it had probably only been a few minutes. 

You expected the blonde to be happy– to be jumping for joy over the fact that the two of you will now be teammates for country and club. However, the lack of reaction was making you second guess your decision to sign for her club. 

“Leah…” You start, but then stop yourself. You hate seeing the uncertainty in her gaze. You hate the way the defender in front of you is hunched over slightly, almost as if she was trying to make herself smaller, seeking a shield against the external world that seemed to loom large around her.

You take a deep breath and start again. “I’m not lying. I did sign for Arsenal. I wouldn’t lie to you–“ 

You wanted to explain things to her but she cut you off. 

“You made me think you were leaving me” Hearing those words leave her lips nearly broke you. 

Your chair rattles at the sheer force of how quickly you stood up to level her stare. “I– I know, Lee, but I wanted to surprise you” 

“For weeks I was stressin’ about where you would be moving to. I was trying to calculate how far Lyon was from London– I was fucking looking up plane tickets, trying to figure out when I can come visit–“

You wanted to run. Like you normally would. You hated seeing the look on your best friend’s face. A face so familiar that it became a source of solace and comfort during your time of need. Now, however, the face looking back at you was filled with disappointment and distrust. 

If it were some other time, you would be out of that room. You hated confrontation. You hated the feeling of being forced to say what you feel on the spot because the thought of accidentally blurting something horrible out in the heat of the moment terrified you. 

But you weren’t going to run this time. Not when Leah was being vulnerable and honest. Your usually strong and capable defender looked like she was the one that needed defending right now. But how were you going to do that when the one thing that was hurting her right now

…was you. 

“I’m sorry, Leah. I really am” Your hands were trembling. You felt like you were losing her, and yet she was never even yours to begin with. 

You close your eyes, taking a moment to will your heart to stop pounding so hard. “I would’ve told you earlier– honestly. But then I started to have second thoughts– I mean I started to worry about–“ 

The next words were stuck in your throat. Tears had started to well up in your eyes, and the soon enough your vision of the blonde in front of you was drowned out by tears. You hastily start wiping away your tears when you feel another hand reach out to grab hold of your arm. A warm thumb gently glides across the span of your cheeks, brushing your tears away lightly.

“Don’t cry. I can’t stay mad at you if you cry” It was said in a hushed murmur. Like she had just divulged in a secret, in a confession. 

You push her arm away slightly. She was standing a little too close. Close enough that you could fall into her and she would catch you. But you wanted to explain things before you gave into the urge to run away like always. 

“I really didn’t mean to lie to you. I swear, Leah. I was worried that you wouldn’t like me being around you to much–” 

An eyebrow raise from the blonde was her only reply. Leah had expressed to you multiple times that she wanted you at Arsenal in passing over the years, but you couldn’t help the small nagging doubt that clouded your mind once in a while. 

Leah chooses to remain silent for the most part. In the many years that she has known you, this is the first time she has ever seen you lay all your cards out right in front of her, so there was no chance in bloody hell that she was going to interrupt you. Leah often joked that you were the master of avoidance.  Whenever a difficult conversation loomed on the horizon, you would flee from the confrontation rather than face it head-on. It wasn't that you were afraid of conflict, but rather that you found it easier to run away than to confront the issue at hand. 

She had gotten used to your flighty responses every time you argued, so this change was a surprise to her. 

And she was so proud of you. 

Her usually reserved and collected girl was pouring her heart out, and she was more than ready to piece it back together again– once you were done speaking, of course. 

A lock of your hair falls in front of your face but before you can reach up to push it away, Leah does it for you. Her touch was feather-light as she tucks your hair behind your ear. This was normal. It was a simple act, one she had done countless of times before, but each time it felt like a reaffirmation of the unspoken intimacy between the two of you. 

You grab her hand before it can fall back to her side. You need something to steady you as your world falls on its axis, and Leah was your anchor. She gives your hand a squeeze, taking a step closer to you. 

Gone were the piercing blues earlier, instead they were now replaced by a softer, warmer look. She gives your hand another squeeze when she notices your slightly dazed expression. “Continue, baby” 

The familiar nickname gives you butterflies. Like it always does.

“I was beginning to second guess my transfer because I was scared that us being around each other so much would ruin our friendship. Y-you know that saying that absence makes the heart grow fonder? Yeah, well what happens if we see each other too much? I-if there is no absence–”

“Baby, what the fuck are you on about”

“That saying that–“

“I don’t give a fuck what a saying says” She air-quotes with her fingers. “I want you with me all the time.”

The defender squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, trying to suppress the urge to simultaneously yell out in frustration and laugh. Not at you, but at your absurd idea that she would grow tired of you. She finds that idea laughable. 

“Y/N, listen to me. I was upset because I wanted to be there for you. We did almost everything together. Remember when we signed our first professional contract, we did it together–” 

You cut her off. “Actually you signed yours first. Mine was a couple days after because the mens team had a match at Old Trafford” 

The familiar, unimpressed look the blonde gave you had you fighting to a grin. Maybe everything will be alright. 

“I saw the comments when you announced your transfer. I saw the fucking nasty ones too, about how you were selfish for leaving United, and I wanted to be there for you every step of the way. To protect you from all that”

“You can’t protect me from everything, Lee”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t fucking try”

Leah takes a deep breath before focusing her gaze at you again. Her voice was quieter this time, timid. “I just feel like you’ve essentially shunned me from such a big step of your career. Like this is your first club transfer and I wasn’t a part of it in any way– not that I think I deserve to be because it’s your career but like– fuck we usually did everything together ya know..”

“I know I probably sound so selfish right now, y/n, but I felt like you didn’t want me to be a part of that. I felt like you were pulling away from me” 

You frown. You were so focused of keeping this entire transfer surprise away from Leah that you did not expect her to feel left out in the process. Maybe you should’ve been more attentive. Whenever Leah would ask about your transfer, you would brush off her questions and quickly change the subject. You didn’t think that by doing so, you were making her feel like you didn’t care about her feelings. 

“I’m sorry, Leah. I didn’t think that by keeping this away from you, I was pushing you away. I was just so focused on surprising you…”

“S’alright. I do feel like I’m overstepping–“ 

“No. You have every right to feel this way, Lee. You’re a huge part of my life and you’re right– we do everything together”

“Yeah. Well it seems like we’ll be doing a lot of things together from now on” Her tone was now light, and playful. 

Leah finally breaks the looming tension with a smile, but not just any smile. She’s smiling the kind of smile that she only reserves just for you. With her lips curved in a tender crescent, her smile held the promise of a thousand intimate secrets, like the ones shared and whispered at 2 am in the morning during England camp. Her blue eyes, now alight with affection and warmth, drawing you into their depths like a moth to a flame. It wasn't just the physicality of her smile that captivated you—it was the way it spoke volumes without uttering a single word. It was the silent reassurance it offered whenever she knew you needed it. 

In Leah’s smile, you found solace, understanding, and an unwavering sense of home.

“We’ll see how we get on when we’re together 24/7” You mutter, still not fully convinced. 

“Baby, listen to me” The blonde cups your face in her hands, lightly stroking your cheek with her thumb. “Quit being such a worrywart. Yeah, we’ll probably get on each other’s nerves. That’s normal. I’ll do things that’ll piss you off, you’ll tell me to go ‘fuck myself’ and vice versa. We’ll still disagree on things– like how you’ll probably nag me about forgetting my boots at training, or how I’ll have to remind you about refilling the petrol in the car because I have an irrational fear of you being stranded somewhere with no petrol”

Leah waits a moment, wanting you to process what she just said. Her gaze firm, unwavering. When she notices your eyes start to water again, she knows it’s not because you’re sad or angry. She knows you’re just overwhelmed. She pulls you close, and tucks your face into the crook of her neck. With your tears wet against her neck and your arms hanging limp by your side, she can almost feel your exhaustion– both from the events of day and the emotional rollercoaster you both had to endure today. 

You welcome her embrace, wanting to bury yourself in the safety and comfort of her arms. She faintly smells like her favourite perfume, delicate notes of jasmine and cedar wood still cling to a warm spot on the side of her neck. You nestle further into her.  

"That's normal, baby. Otherwise relationships and friendships would be far too easy, too boring. But we will always work it out in the end. That's how we work. You run, I follow. I get angry, you calm me down. That's us. And that won't change just because we see each other more often. I promise"

After another minute of silence, Leah pulls back slightly. She gently grabs your face out from where it was buried in her neck, so you could meet eye to eye again. She frowns at the sight of your tear-stained cheeks, and uses her thumbs to wipe away the lingering tracks of moisture that streaked down your cheeks.

“Enough tears” She mutters, bringing your face close and resting her forehead against yours. A whispered secret only meant for the two of you. “You’re breaking my heart, baby” 

She presses a kiss on your forehead, her lips soft and warm against your skin. “Do you understand what I said earlier? About not being a worrywart?” “m’not a worrywart” The blonde chuckles at the pout that you give her. Your eyes are still glassy, the tip of your nose red, and your hair was a mess, but to her you were the most beautiful girl she had ever seen. Bloody adorable too. 

You poke her playfully on her side, giggling when she jerks away and narrows her eyes at you, but her lips are already curled upwards. 

“I understand, Lee.” 

The next thing you know the blonde has wrapped her arms around you waist, lifting you up and leaving your feet dangling in midair. You squeal and quickly move to wrap your arms around her neck tightly. You knew she wouldn’t drop you. You trusted her more than anyone else in the world. You were just looking for an excuse to hold her close. You laugh by her ear as she spins the both of you around a few times, excited cheers and whoops replace the tense silence earlier. 

When she stops spinning and your feet are planted firmly back on the ground again, you both stand there grinning at each other before she breaks the moment. 

“You’re now a Gunner.” “Woahhh hang on a minute– ” Placing both of your hands on the blonde’s chest, you push her away lightly. You are also hyperaware of her hands that are still resting on your hips, a thumb hooked onto one of your jean’s belt hoop. 

Ignoring the pounding of your heart from Leah spinning you around just a second ago, and now from the mere proximity of her, you narrow your eyes at her. 

“Lee, that actually gave me the ick. Don’t call me that” You groan, but your whining falls deaf to her ears. 

“Y/L/N is now a bloody fucking Gunner” She practically screams at your face, her smile growing at your less-than-enthusiastic face. 

The blonde then abruptly pauses her celebrations “Bet your spurs fan dad wasn’t too happy”

“Oh he was fumin’” Leah laughs loudly at that. She and your dad often butted heads, especially during derby days when the mens team were playing against each other. They would purposely rile each other up and taunts would be thrown throughout the match, but it was all in good fun. Leah didn’t know it, but your dad would secretly root for Arsenal when she was on the pitch. When you called him out for it, he said he was “cheering for Leah, not Arsenal.” Yeah right.

In the moody lighting of Leah’s kitchen, shadows dance across the walls like silent spectres, lucky to have been granted a peek into what seems to be the beginning of a new chapter– not just for you– but for Leah as well. 

Leah, who had been by your side for many, many years. Leah who has been your friend, your confidant, and your lifeline. 

“…so we’re actually going to be teammates at Arsenal, huh?”

In the corners of this kitchen, shadows linger like forgotten whispers. The soft glow of the pendant ceiling light that you had given her as a house-warming gift hangs above the dining table, casting a gentle hue over the both of you. The flickering flames of the candles that decorate the table dance across the room like fireflies in the night.

“It appears that way” 

It’s hard to ignore the way shadows dance across her cheeks, the soft light tracing the contours of her jawline and the arch of her brows. Her eyes, darker than usual in the dimness, glimmer. The faint light catches the sparkle in her eyes, leaving you almost breathless from the intensity of her gaze. 

She takes a step closer to you, until you could almost feel her breath as it fans across your face.

“And we’re going to be seeing each other a lot”

She reaches out to take your hand in hers. 

“Yep. At training, recovery, meal times, team meetings…”

Your eyes are drawn to the way her tongue peeks out to wet her bottom lip. A nervous habit of hers that you have become familiar with over the years. Her lips part slightly, catching the light in a soft gleam, their natural colour deepened. She cranes her neck down slightly, forcing your gaze away from her lips and back to meet her eyes. If she noticed you staring at her lips, she doesn’t mention it. Instead, with her voice barely above a whisper, she began to speak.

“Move in with me”

For a brief moment, it was just silence as you both take in what this means for the both of you. This kitchen became a place of quiet refuge from the outside world. Here, you told your best friend and the woman who has somehow crammed her way into your heart that your lives will change. 

You were not only going to be teammates who only saw each other during national duty camp, but now your lives will be intertwined even further. Here, amidst the flickering shadows and muted glow of her kitchen, time seems to stand still. Tonight, you will bask in these moments of intimacy and secrets that are only meant for the two of you, before the rest of the world found out. 

“Yes.”

The much much-awaited chapter was worth it. Hopefully I met all your expectations (if you had any lol). It was a bit angsty-ish but I hope the ending made it worth it considering I was thinking about leaving it on a cliffhanger

but I'm not that evil.

Here's to breaking more glass ceilings. Happy International Women's day, my loves!

-- kisses, butter.

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!

[hrtwayne]

Beautiful Girl || Ellie Williams

Pairing: Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

Summary: Where Ellie feels special for the first time after Joel's death.

Note: English is not my first language!!

Warning: None!

MASTERLIST

The grayish tones sliced through the sky, a clear indication that a torrential downpour would soon envelop the city, cloaking it in heavy clouds and fierce winds. Y/n hugged herself tightly, seeking some form of warmth as the place around her seemed ready to collapse under the looming storm.

A sharp bark rang out before a German Shepherd appeared in front of the house she and another woman shared. The dog barked again before sitting beside Joel Miller's youngest daughter. The rays of the sun seemed like a distant memory now, and Y/n wondered if she would ever have a completely normal life—one without a virus that turned people into zombies or maniacs constantly trying to kill her.

Her blue eyes, shadowed by a layer of exhaustion, were fixed on the crops planted by the designated group. Y/n was undoubtedly a notable leader. Her firm resolve had been a defining trait that elevated her to the top of the hierarchy.

Loud footsteps and grumbled curses reached Y/n's ears. Moments later, Ellie appeared in her line of sight, drenched in blood and bearing a few superficial cuts.

“Ells, what happened?” Y/n asked, concern lacing her voice as she noticed Ellie biting her lower lip.

"Just walkers. Had to deal with a few on the way,” Ellie said, stretching her arms as if to embrace the girl.

“No hugs until you’ve showered, love.”

Ellie sat on the bed with her head resting against the padded headboard, her green eyes glued to a comic book Y/n had found in an abandoned bookstore. Y/n lay sprawled across Ellie’s body, watching her as she animatedly commented on the characters. Ellie’s fingers gently caressed S/n’s cheek, drawing a soft sigh from her lips.

Y/n wrapped her arms around Ellie’s body, eliciting a small laugh from the redhead.

“You’re so adorable, love,” Ellie said, her green eyes glowing as they met S/n’s blue ones.

Y/n brushed a few strands of Ellie’s hair behind her ear. Ellie’s gaze was locked on every move Y/n made, as if she wanted to etch this moment into her memory forever.

Their hearts raced in unison as their breaths intertwined, becoming one. Finally, their lips met in a tender kiss.

The kiss seemed to carry countless promises and unspoken words, feelings buried deep within their hearts. Desires they kept for moments only the two of them could share.

Y/n’s delicate fingers threaded through Ellie’s fiery red hair as she adjusted herself to sit properly in Ellie’s lap. Instinctively, Ellie wrapped her fingers around Y/n’s waist, pulling her closer.

Their lips moved in perfect harmony, guided by an invisible force that seemed to fill the room. Slowly, Y/n’s hands tangled even further into Ellie’s loose strands, pulling her impossibly closer.

Ellie smiled softly against Y/n’s lips, a silent declaration that she finally felt whole in her presence.

“I love your eyes, Ellie,” Y/n whispered. “I love every part of you, your freckles, your lips, your scars. And most of all, I love you.”

Ellie’s heart raced as tears welled in her green eyes, threatening to fall.

In that moment, Ellie realized that only Y/n could ever have her completely.

[thehotelpod]

It's October and that's all the reason I need to celebrate Izzy lets go!!!

I could talk for an hour about how Izzy's art and playlists spoke to me and why I just HAD to have him do our art, but that's another post for another day. For now lets talk about a few of the early pieces.

THE MALL

his first official piece for us. The bonus episodes and the corresponding postcards was a it of an experiment (it's experiments all the way down) and we were all so impressed with this that we just had to figure out a way to hire him. I was on the phone with Pacific when he saw it and I could practically feel the shock when the colors hit him.

More under the cut, don't forget to follow @filthyguts!

4.10 Audrey Burns

(I AM WORKING ON THE LETTERING) the fisrt normal episode piece. I had no idea what was coming my way, Izzy's style is strong at its core, but the fringes and fiddly bits have such nuance and flavor. Popping colors, photobashing, giant expressions and poses, and a rare smile from our boy. He's dressed in the Hilton uniform because that's what this Hotel was based on. This one has a real Stinky Cheese Man vibe.

4.11 The Owner - V

a rare sequel episode that ties in directly with S1. Izzy really got to play with the composition, breaking it apart with the characters themselves (notice the V shape!) and infusing it with the chaos of the episode, but unified by color scheme. More photobashing (is that what its called?) and a rare view of his Hotel herself design. I love the his Owner so much. Them little grabbers!

4.12 X - X

Originally titled "? - ?" but changed because that's unpronounceable, this one is very popular on our store. Lobby Boy clutching the title and the Owner made of Hotel photos (ELEVATOR BUTTON ARM!) reinforcing the helpless power the characters have over their environment. That smiling crazed face is exactly what I pictured in season 1, and something about the colors and texture reads as fish scales to me it's like the Manager is here too (fish!Manager enjoyers unite)

4.12 Judy Blashy

One of my very very very favorites. The whole cast together, and though they all wear masks of fear you can still get their character dynamic in an instant (i like how the LB is in front of the Manager--Izzy has always understood that he is not fragile fine china that could shatter at any moment, but a mongoose under the house who doesn't like loud noises). Madam Hotel's mad, gap toothed grin, her room number earrings, her NECK LOOK AT HER NECK!!! and of course a great big splash of blood where the Owner smooshed her (mirroring the Managers head getting bonked in S3, and don't get me started on people losing eyes) I love that when we added the Goosebumps frame he drew some more blood flying out over it, always reinforcing that breaking of what seems like real boundaries effortlessly.

That's it for now, go follow Izzy anywhere you can, he posts art all the time and it's always incredible (I don't even know who Kira is but I sure like the way Izzy draws him)

Thank you Izzy, you are a rock star and I cannot and will not imagine what the Hotel looks like without you!

[modern-day-bard]

Other Duties As Assigned: A Joel Miller Fanfiction

Content Warning: 18+ This story includes mature themes such as drinking, stalking, violence, and explicit smut. Minors, do not interact.

Chapter 6: Smoke and Mirrors

Joel

God, do I want to leave. The music here is so loud I can feel it through my boots. Not to mention there always seems to be a potential threat within the vicinity until I realize that they’re dancing, and not making a move to harm Gwen or her friends.

Despite the moderately-sized group, they are increasingly difficult to find. Where Gwen is normally the easiest woman to spot in a crowd, this one was thick. And it was full of glitter. Even though that dress of her’s was essentially designed to keep my eyes off of her, with it being as short as a shirt, it was shiny enough to catch anyone’s eye in a matter of seconds. Or so I thought, before her and her posse disappeared into the overflowing dance floor. The disco balls above do anything but aid the situation as they create sparkles over every dancing body. I can feel a headache coming on, partly due to the music, but squinting to keep my eyes on her golden locks wasn’t helping.

Our table is elevated a foot or two, so with that and our height difference, I have still caught glimpses of her within the last two hours. Sometimes, she’s looking back at me. Probably hoping that I would have given in and gone home. Not that they would’ve picked this place knowing I hate loud music and large crowds. Gwen would most likely forget my last name if she didn’t have to say it every so often. There’s no way for her to know this is my least favorite type of environment. And I’m afraid if she did, we would be here more and more often.

Looking at Gwen’s smile, however, I’m surprised we haven’t been here in the past week. I’m sure she can turn on the charm and fake it when she has to, but this all seems like authentic, bona fide joy. She spins Harper several times, making strangers wish her a happy birthday, buying rounds of shots and pushing men and women toward her friends, trying to get them all dance partners. Once that mission was accomplished, she seems to move on to finding herself a dance partner as well. A development that only makes my job harder. Several men have approached Gwen in the past hour alone. Beforehand, the interest on her part seemed to be minimal. Now it’s all doe-eyed expressions and wrapping her arms around various men’s necks. That is until they spin her around, making my jaw tighten.

One of these men, a tall, muscular guy with a buzzcut and a shaved eyebrow, has been on top of her for at least thirty minutes. I’m leaning over the edge of the railing of our lounge, trying to get as many identifying markings as I can. Just in case. What I see instead is Gwen nearly bent in half, her skirt just barely covering her—

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything? Not even the house special?”

The waitress steps in front of my view and I almost curse. She smiles energetically at me, and I feel compelled to return the gesture.

“Uh, no, thank you.”

“You can’t think of anything you’d like?” She steps forward, resting on the other side of the railing.

This must be the fourth or fifth time she’s checked on me. It’s tempting not to admit to this waitress that I’m a security officer. I’m allowed to do so, but I usually think it’s best not to announce that when it’s not already blatantly obvious. I’m not sure if anyone here recognizes Gwen, and having security with you could be a compelling reason to look someone up.

“I’m sober,” I lie, “Thanks though.”

“Well, we have soda, water, anything your heart desires.” She tries again with a smile.

“I’m fine. I appreciate it.”

“Oh, okay,” she looks slightly dejected. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

I feel a pang of guilt, wondering if she was hoping for a tip.

I go back to watching Gwen and her friends for a few minutes, but when I see the waitress come around again, I flag her down and slip a twenty on her tray. She winks at me, and I’m not sure how to respond to that. I settle on a small wave.

When I look up, I scan the crowd again. I see Landon, Aria, Nyah, Harper…Mateo…and…no Gwen.

Maybe she went to the bathroom, but I’d assume at least one of her friends would go with her. Wouldn’t they? Then I look for the burly, handsy man. No sign.

Fuck.

The large room is incredibly dark, only flecks of light being picked up by the disco balls above. It’s possible that Gwen and that stiff Tree Man are just bending down for a moment, and the strobe lights didn’t pick up on it. It’s possible another group is just in the way for a minute. It’s also possible that the guy forced her to leave the club, or dragged her to the back alley…

I’m not taking any chances.

I push through the crowd, spotting Nyah first.

“Miss Abiola,” I call, dodging a grinding couple on my right. Nyah sways to the music in front of me, her eyes closed. “Miss Abiola!” I try again, but all she does is raise her arms above her head.

“Nyah!” I shout, finally getting within a foot of her.

Her eyes shoot open, clearly startled, even with everything going on around her.

“Miss Abiola, I’m sorry, but have you seen Miss Russell?”

Nyah looks confused, before slowly nodding in agreement. Whether it be the alcohol, or the noise, she takes a few moments to respond.

“I thought she was at the bar with Aria.”

I look to my left to see Aria and Mateo chatting to each other above the music. “She’s not. Do you have any idea where she could be?”

Nyah takes her time looking from left to right. She even spins in a very slow, deliberate circle. “Nope. No idea! Maybe she’s at the bar on the other side?” Why would she go to the bar when they paid what was probably an egregious amount of money for bottle service?

I size her up for a minute, and the tiniest of smirks ghosts across her face.

“Miss Abiola, if you know where she is, you need to tell me. It’s a safety matter.”

Her big brown eyes grow innocent, and I know she’s trying to stall. “Call me Nyah. And I’m sure she’s being well taken care of.” I don’t miss the inneduo in her tone. I don’t particularly like it either.

“That doesn’t answer my question, Miss Abiola.”

“It’s a party, Mr. Miller,” she mocks my voice, “Try and have some fun!”

This is useless. I spot Landon a few paces away and make my way over to them instead.

“Have you seen Miss Russell?” I won't waste time with the pleasantries now.

“I’m just getting back from the bathroom,” Their face at least, seems honest. “Last I saw she was with a guy.”

“Do you know if they’ve left the club?”

Landon shakes their head. I look to my right, seeing Harper a ways away making out with someone in a fairy costume. Nyah was behind me dancing, and Aria and Mateo were still deep in conversation on the dance floor. That leaves only one person in this group left. I thank Landon, and call Rodney as soon as I make it to the door. He picks up just as I make it outside.

“Rodney, did you take Miss Russell home?”

“No. She texted me asking to make sure her friends make it home safe.”

I grip the phone tighter. “Did you happen to ask how she was getting home?”

Rodney pauses, “No, sir.”

I curse under my breath. “We’ll need to discuss this later. Can you pull up front?”

Rodney arrives less than three minutes later. I have him take me to two of the nearest clubs, wondering if the pair of them would have stumbled into the next available place. But why then wouldn’t Gwen just stay with her friends? What would be the point in going to another club? A nervous feeling in my chest blooms, as I think about the possibility of them going back to his place. She has no idea about the break-in a few months ago. She’s been lulled into a false sense of security by everyone around her, which is probably one of the reasons she sees me as such a nuisance. She’s a beautiful woman in her twenties. In her eyes, why shouldn’t she go home with a random stranger? My heart pounds, and the flashbacks come. Finding her, telling her family, that hollow feeling that it all could have been prevented…

I jog back to the car after quickly checking the inside of another dive bar. Rodney waits for me to name the next place, but I pull out my phone instead. I call Gwen’s number, and it rings and rings and rings. The cheery tone in her voicemail box only fuels my anger. I try calling her two, three, four more times. So her phone isn’t dead, and it hasn’t been turned off. On the sixth try, it rings for a moment, and then I get sent right to voicemail. She had to do that herself. I try calling her again, and the same thing happens, this time after two rings. Yeah, not dead. She just doesn’t want me checking up on her. Or worse, and someone else is declining my calls.

I check my watch, it's already past midnight. There must be hundreds of thousands of bars and nightclubs in Manhattan alone. There’s no way I can check all of them, and there’s no way to know if she’s still out or if she’s gone home with that man.

Gone home with him…

“She allows many visitors into her apartment. Late night guests, I should say. Never does a background check, never worries about being robbed, or worse.”

Arthur’s words ring out in my head. She’s obviously been sick of having me in her space since the moment I arrived. And I have a feeling that she would get a sick little twist out of me looking for her when she was in the most obvious place she could be.

“Take us back to her residence, Rodney.” He replies with no more than a nod.

It’s an agonizing twenty-five minutes with the nightlife traffic. When we park in the garage, I leap out of the car without another word to Rodney. The elevator takes what feels like twice as long as usual to get to me, and three times its normal speed to bring me up to Gwen’s apartment.

Once inside, my chest clenches so hard that I rub it to try to ease some of the tension. The kitchen and living room are dark. It doesn’t look like anyone has been back here yet. I walk toward the back windows, even though I know she won’t be hiding behind one of the couches. I might have been wrong. She might be halfway to Jersey by now, or tied up in the back of somebody’s car. She might be—

There’s a loud clang at the end of the hall.

My fear chills my bones enough to freeze me where I stand, if only momentarily.

Thump.

That one was definitely in the apartment.

I move immediately, striding as fast as I can toward the noise. My feet don’t move nearly as fast as I need them to, each step makes this night feel eerily familiar to the one I’m always trying to forget. But I keep moving toward her room. A room that I now realize has a closed door. I put my hand on the doorknob, and I’m about to turn it when I hear a heavy moan on the other side. I tense up. She could still be in danger. With that notion, I try the door. But it’s locked.

I’ll break it down. I raise my right leg and—

“Oh God, yes.” That is undoubtedly Gwen. And undoubtedly a sigh of pleasure, not pain.

I lurch back from the door, feeling my face heat as I trip over myself and into the other side of the hallway. At least it solves the fact that she is no longer in danger. A weird, almost hopeful, part of me wonders if she could be in there alone. But shortly after, a string of loud, masculine grunts sounds through the door in tandem.

I take a few deep breaths, trying to hone in the anger that threatens to escape. I’m angry at Gwen for running out without telling me, angry at Rodney for not calling me as soon as she texted him, and I’m also angry at Gwen for taking this guy back to her place. I guess I’m glad she’s not in some random man’s home, but she doesn’t even know him. He can still be crazy even if they’re not at his residence.

And fuck, I’m angry at that protein-infused man in there, too. I’m not exactly sure why, but I don’t care.

I’m still standing in between our two rooms, the anger and relief in my chest conflicting with each other and leaving me stunned.

“Harder,” Gwen cries out.

That’s it. I can’t—I can’t take this. I can’t barge down the door. She is technically allowed to do what she’s doing. But I can’t listen to it any longer. I can’t leave, as I’m still supposed to remain in the same building with her at all times. And I also want to make sure he doesn’t steal anything or do anything harmful once they’ve… finished. I grimace to myself. No, no, once they’re done. Not once they’re finished. Christ, I need to get out of this hallway.

I haul myself into my room, closing the door as quietly as my temper will allow. I don’t want to fuel Gwen’s ego by giving her the satisfaction of a slammed door.

It takes me a minute to find the headphones I brought with me. They aren’t noise canceling, but they’re the best I’ve got right now. I blast the first song that I can find, and text Rodney. I tell him Gwen is here, and to bring the car back to the club to take her friends home. Then I pull out my laptop and email Angus. If Guinevere wants to play games, I might as well contribute to the playbook.

Even with the music blaring far louder than I would normally allow, I can’t miss the conclusion of Gwen and muscle-man’s escapades. The man lets out a cringe-worthy whoop!

And then…nothing.

No noise from Gwen. I end up smirking.

He didn’t look like the type who could satisfy her.

My eyes grow wide. Or any woman! I hurry to finish the thought. Not just Gwen. He just looked like the type who couldn’t satisfy any woman. I shake my head, turning up the music until my eardrums ache. I remind myself repeatedly that I’ve already made it two weeks. If I can get through that a few more times, I can get out.

As I wait another twenty minutes for the man to leave, I have to physically shake my head to avoid thinking of how Gwen might look right now. Cheeks flushed, eyes sleepy. Or based on what I heard, maybe none of that is true. Maybe she’s frustrated, laying there waiting for him to leave so she can help herself—

My anger grows like wildfire, knowing this is exactly what she would want. She wants me to feel uncomfortable, unwelcome. And these thoughts are certainly unwelcome. And completely inexcusable at that. She’s my client. She deserves some basic respect, not me sitting here wondering if tonight was as pleasurable for her as it was for that man. I don’t want that anymore than I want the bizarre, envious stir in my stomach.

At the thirty minute mark, I hear Gwen’s door open, close, and one pair of heavy feet make their way to the elevator. I take a long, exhausted breath, leaning back on my elbows when I hear the elevator doors shut.

Just a few more weeks. A few more weeks of this nonsense. This blue-eyed, witty, confusing nonsense. And then I’m gone.

Next Chapter

Previous chapter

Masterlist

[shimmerwindow]

I Never Really

Part Six

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Marijuana use

Playlist | Masterlist

Sam didn't show up to class on Monday morning. It had been radio silence throughout the day Sunday, though that hadn’t bothered you – you didn’t necessarily want to talk to him anyway. But when you didn’t see him Tuesday either, you started to get a bit worried. You considered texting him, but anything you typed seemed to come out wrong. And it wasn’t like he was dead; you’d noticed he had added a few lines to your joint project since Sunday.

You made your way back to the dorms after classes, thoroughly worried, and utterly exhausted. You stared at the ground the whole way back, letting your feet take you home. Rounding the corner on campus, the residence hall came into view, with its towering concrete walls and rows of prison-like windows. And on the corner, out front, was Sam.

You slowed your pace. Suddenly, you weren't so concerned. You wanted to avoid him, wanted to avoid the inevitable conflict that would come when you passed him by. But the hall had only one main entrance. You silently cursed the building for having such a terrible design flaw, and braced yourself for whatever was to come next. He didn’t look at you as you approached, staring at the clouds instead as he took long drags of the cigarette between his fingers.

“Hey,” he called as you passed by.

“Hi.” You didn’t stop, only glancing at him.

“Can we talk?”

You froze. This was what you’d been afraid of. “About what?” You played dumb.

“About the other day.”

“What is there to talk about?” You shifted your backpack on your shoulders, still not quite looking at him – you weren’t ready for that yet.

“I want to apologize.”

“...Well?”

“Can we talk about it in my dorm?”

“Won't that be awkward with your roomie there?”

He barked out a short laugh. “Roomie is never around. He’s got some girlfriend he stays with off-campus every night.”

You weren’t sure you wanted to be alone in a room with him. Awkward apologies were not something you enjoyed bearing witness to, much less in someone else’s home. “I’m not sure about that.”

“Please.” He sounded so broken, so defeated. You turned back to look at him, and his appearance matched his tone of voice. The cheerful smile that normally donned his features had been replaced with a frown, with dark circles under his eyes and hair that looked like it hadn't been brushed very well lately, pulled back into a haphazard bun. He looked sad, and small, and sorry. "It's too much to say for us to be out here in the cold."

“Fine. But I can only stay for a bit.”

He led you up to his dorm, finally opening the door after a crowded elevator ride. His room was decorated rather conservatively, in stark contrast to the maximalism of his bedroom back at the house. It was the same layout as your room, though the second bed actually had sheets on it, unlike the bare mattress in your room. Sam sat at the head of his bed, his back against the wall. You set your backpack down near the door and looked around, figuring out where to sit.

“Here.” He patted the empty space on the bed next to him. “It’s a lot more comfortable than those chairs.”

Reluctantly, you climbed onto his bed, sitting cross-legged and trying to make yourself as small as possible, as far away from him as possible on a tiny twin bed.

“So, let me just start by saying…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have talked to you that way on Sunday.”

“It’s alright.” You defaulted to your typical response when receiving an apology. Conflict wasn’t your thing, and accepting an apology as quickly as you could had always been the best way for you to get through it fast. Even when you didn’t mean it.

“It’s not alright. You said it yourself, you’re not my property. And I spoke to you like you were.”

You fidgeted with your hands in your lap, feeling his eyes on you but not able to make eye contact. “I just don't get why. Why would you…care so much?”

He sighed, shifting his gaze to stare out the window. “It’s hard to explain without digging myself into an even deeper hole, here.”

“I think I deserve an explanation.”

The air was still with the tension between you. “Those three, they’re…” His voice faltered. “They’re partiers. They’re, like, rock stars. They’ve always gotten girls in a way I just don't. Both metaphorically, and…physically.”

You suddenly wished you hadn’t asked for an explanation.

“Every time I bring a girl over there, whether she’s a friend or not, they sort of steal her away from me. And I get kicked to the curb.”

“Do you bring different girls there often?” Your mouth felt dry. You didn’t want to know the answer.

“Sometimes,” he half-whispered.

“You sound like just as big of a player as they do right now, Sam.”

“I told you I’d only be digging myself a deeper hole.”

It still pissed you off, but, somehow, you understood. It wasn’t that he viewed you as his property, or something equally malicious. It was that he was afraid of losing your friendship, as he had evidently lost from others before you.

“But,” he began, and you finally caught his gaze. The gold in his eyes was highlighted by the sunlight through the window. “Whatever the reason, there’s no good excuse for how I spoke to you. I shouldn’t have accused you of something like that, and I had no right to be angry anyway. Not at you, at least.”

“I’m sorry too. For saying we’re barely friends. You’re actually my only friend.”

“Please, don’t say sorry to me. I don’t deserve it.”

“I think you do, though. I don’t want to hurt you, either.” You smiled at him. “You’re important to me, too, by the way.”

He turned his eyes away and breathed out a laugh, a weak smile on his lips. “Is it sorted, then?”

“Yeah, sounds like it to me.”

“Thank god.” He heaved a sigh, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “And I’m not your only friend. The guys are your friends now, too.”

“You sure made it sound like I should stay away from them.” You were only half joking.

“They’re not bad guys. Just a bit more socially adept than me, I guess.” He pulled at the tie that held his hair back, letting it fall down onto his shoulders. He combed his fingers through it, and your eyes were locked on his hands, and the way they moved so delicately. “I have a question for you, by the way.”

“Oh, god. What?”

“Hey, don’t give me that attitude." He gave you a smile, a genuine one that you hadn't realized you'd been missing so dearly. You wanna split a j before you go?” He asked, grabbing for an altoid tin on the windowsill and popping it open to reveal several pre-rolled joints.

“I don't know…I really should go.” You didn’t have a busy day ahead of you, but you were feeling rather burnt out. Worrying about him had been exhausting.

“C’mon. You look stressed as hell.”

He wasn’t wrong. Maybe a few hits would help. “Fine. But then I’m leaving.” You seemed to have a bad habit of caving to every word that came out of his mouth.

“Sweet.” He fished in his pocket for a lighter and slid the window open with his other hand.

“In here?” You asked, a bit nervous. “Won’t you get caught?”

“Nah. I do it all the time.” He held the joint between his teeth, sparking the lighter.

You passed it back and forth, blowing the smoke out the window while you anxiously watched the smoke detector. Things felt some semblance of normal now, though you’d crossed a bridge you couldn’t turn back on. Needing to have a conversation like this felt intimate, in some way you couldn’t put your finger on.

“Sorry I got so drunk, by the way. Didn’t mean for that to happen,” you told him between hits.

“You were totally knockin’ them back around the fire, miss eclipse.”

You used every ounce of strength to ignore his little pet name for you. “Yeah, I guess I didn’t really…comprehend how strong you guys would pour.”

“You said you threw up, too?” He tapped the remainder of the joint on an ashtray on the windowsill, licking his finger and touching it to the smoldering end to extinguish it fully. “Hopefully not on anything, right? Besides yourself, apparently.”

“No, I made it to the bathroom, thank god.”

“Sorry I couldn’t help you. I passed the hell out.”

“It’s chill. I shouldn't have drank so much.”

“Did you have a good time, at least? Besides the throwing up part. And me yelling at you.”

“I did.” Your eyes met his, and the warmth in them reminded you of how kind his family had been to you. “Thank you for bringing me.”

"My pleasure, really."

You gave him a smile that somehow communicated all the words you couldn't formulate right now. The high settled on your mind, heavy and comforting like a weighted blanket. You curled up on his bed while he wandered about the room, talking at you about whatever topic came to mind. He showed you the small collection of records he kept there, telling you the rest of them were stored at his brothers’ house. He was so animated when he spoke to you, even as your eyelids started to feel heavy and your eyes started to slip shut.

He played some record you’d never heard, something with a lot of piano. You could feel your consciousness fading as he told you about how he was trying to learn this song. The bed dipped when he sat next to you, but you didn’t even open your eyes to look at him. Before his sentence was over, you were drifting away into sleep.

* * *

Unknown to you, Sam had fallen into a light sleep of his own, his back propped up against the wall and his chin tucked to his chest. As you slept, you moved around quite a bit – not an uncommon occurrence in your daily life, but an inconvenience when sharing a space as small as a twin size dorm bed.

Somehow, in all your twisting and turning to find a good position, your head ended up resting against his shins, then on top of his crossed legs, and then fully in his lap. You slept peacefully, though Sam was anything but peaceful at the current moment. He'd woken up to you in this position, and he was stuck here, unsure of what exactly to do. I shouldn't have rolled a fucking indica, he thought to himself.

He couldn't move, couldn’t budge even an inch. You were asleep with your head in his lap and he was not about to interrupt that. With great effort, he willed himself to stay calm. Be chill. Don’t embarrass yourself. the words repeated in his head like a mantra.

He watched the slow and gentle rise and fall of your chest as you slept, the way your face twitched in response to your dreams. If only he knew he was the face you were seeing behind your closed eyes. But the light was getting low, and Sam could no longer feel his legs, and he knew it was time to wake you. As much as he would gladly watch you sleep until the day he died. He called your name softly, and you stirred, shifting around a bit in his lap, but not waking up. Your hand came up and wrapped around his thigh as you nuzzled closer against him.

A shiver ran down his spine. You were rubbing your cheek right against him, and it took quite literally every ounce of his willpower to stay calm. He called your name again, louder this time, almost frantic to wake you up. You rolled over onto your back, drawing a contented sigh as you were slowly pulled out of your dream, pink sunlight registering behind your closed eyes. You opened them, and blinked a few times, the world a streak of blurry colors.

You assumed what you were seeing was a continuation of the dream you’d been having. Sam, silhouetted by the light streaming through the windows. A few strands of hair hung down to frame the sides of his face, which was twisted into something like borderline panic, or pain.

“Sammy,” you breathed, smiling at him.

His brow furrowed and he turned his eyes up to the ceiling, his head falling back, his face out of sight.

It dawned on you that this wasn’t a dream.

This was all painfully, terribly real.

You scrambled your way out of his lap and onto your feet, swaying a bit with dizziness. He looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read, something like fear, his body frozen in the same position.

“You fell asleep like that and you seemed so tired I didn’t want to wake you up–”

“I didn't mean to do that I just fell asleep I didn’t–”

You talked over each other with hurried out explanations.

“I should go.” You said it as you grabbed your keys and your shoes, throwing your backpack over your shoulder with one hand already on the door.

“You should.”

Not another word passed between you as you nearly fell over your own feet getting out the door. Faces passed in a blur as you ran down the hallway, to the stairwell, crashing through the door to your room. The high was gone, replaced by debilitating sobriety, just you and the unbearable volume of your thoughts. You collapsed onto the floor, dropping your head between your knees. It felt like you might cry at any moment. That was something you couldn’t take back. It had been so comfortable and warm, so right, having your head there. You could have slept that way all night.

So, maybe it was more than a silly crush. Maybe it was more than just wanting him in a carnal way. Maybe you wanted to sleep curled in his lap like a cat, your fingers tracing over his legs while his hands played with your hair. Maybe you were…you couldn’t think it. The word you’d been avoiding for so many years, after the last guy ruined the concept for you.

You didn’t have time for that word. And you didn’t believe it was real, anyway. You weren’t destined for it, it wasn’t in the cards for you. Relationships were pointless. You picked yourself up off the floor, running on autopilot as you sat in front of your computer and went through the motions of keeping yourself busy. He was the only thing your mind could focus on, all your attempts to study being ultimately pointless. Sleep eluded you once you finally managed to calm yourself enough to attempt it, and yet again, your dreams were littered with Sam.

[backtothefanfiction]

The Angel In The Garden of Evil | Chapter Thirteen: When You're Eight Lives Down

Summary: Angel's continued survival comes with consequences.

Warnings: 18+ Only, genre typical threat and violence, kidnapping, knife, Angel being stubborn,

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: @tarzinnia I am sorry.

THIRTEEN

After her bath, Peter had helped Angel back out of the tub. He called down the hall to Eddie, asking him to run upstairs to their apartment to grab her a set of pyjamas to change into. “A set with a button up shirt preferably.” Peter had stressed. Eddie came back with a designer pair of pyjamas covered in sketches of dogs. Peter helped her into them before he started to guide her back to the bed she had been in before.

“Nope.” she said.

“What do you mean nope?”

“I mean nope, I’m not going back to that bed. I want to be in our bed, with our things-”

“Okay. Okay.” he conceded before she could finish. “Sure you can make it that far?”

“Oh, I'll make it.” she huffed.

She’d made it to the elevator and up before she gave up, Peter carefully wrapping her up in his arms, bridal style, as he carried her the rest of the way through the penthouse apartment, up the stairs and into their bedroom, carefully going to place her down on the bed.

“No.” she interjected. “I want to brush my teeth.” she said, still focused on her mission for her personal hygiene.

“Okay.” Peter said, lifting her up again and carrying her to the ensuite where he placed her down in front of the vanity to brush her teeth. He sat on the toilet seat, tapping his foot as he reached into his trouser pocket for his phone and began tapping away.

“Oh shit.” she said when she spat.

“What?” he suddenly said looking up from his phone.

“I left my phone downstairs.” she said.

“Your phone?” he queried.

“Yeah, Eddie gave it to me last night. Said one of the guys had picked it up at the house.”

Peter frowned, “Both me and Harry stopped by the house multiple times, neither of us saw it.”

“Maybe you weren’t looking for it.” she sassed back.

“Alright, alright, I’ll go get it.” He said as he stood. “Come on.” he said, readying himself to lift her to bed.

“It’s alright Pete, I can make it to the bed from here.”

“Okay… Do you want anything while I’m downstairs?” he asked.

“Maybe a glass of water.” she said.

“One phone, one glass of water.” he said listing off the list before he kissed her on the cheek and headed off to fulfil his mission.

She hobbled back into the bedroom, slowly easing herself beneath the soft crisp bed sheets. She groaned in relief as she sunk back into the pillows. Yes, this was much better.

“Here we go, one glass of water, one phone.” Peter said, handing the two items over to her.

She noticed he suddenly seemed agitated. “What is it?” she asked as she swallowed the water in her mouth and stretched out her arm to place the glass down on the bedside table. “Pete?” she asked as his fingers began to drum against his mouth in thought.

“It’s nothing, it’s probably nothing. Don’t worry yourself about it.”

“Well now I definitely am.” she bridled, shifting herself carefully to sit up closer to him.

“It’s just,” he said as he reached into his pocket and got his phone out again, typing a quick reply to a message before letting the phone fall to his side to give her his full attention. He sighed. “Felicia didn’t turn up for work today,” he said.

Angel’s face fell. “Is it because of what I said yesterday?”

“No.” he quickly said to reassure her but the little noise he made after the word implied he wasn’t quite sure. “Well, maybe. But she’s not normally one to let things like that get to her. And even if it did she wouldn’t just ghost everyone.”

“What do you mean?” Angel frowned. 

“I mean, if she needs a day she normally messages someone but there’s been nothing, absolute radio silence. I even had Harry go check her apartment but she wasn’t there.”

“Well, does she have a place she likes going to to let off steam and unwind?” Angel asked.

“Yeah, I’ve called Carl down at The Huntsman, even got Jack to take a look in that axe throwing place she likes. Nothing. It’s like she’s just disappeared.”

“Maybe she went to visit family or something?”

“Both of her parents are in prison.”

“What, and people can’t visit people in prison?” Angel reasoned.

“No but for the nearly three years I’ve known her, she’s never once gone to visit them.”

“There’s always a first time for everything?” Angel quickly said, trying to brush off the pang in her chest at the reminder of their relationship while she had been gone.

“I’ll get Eddie to make some calls.” Peter sighed as he lifted his phone into both hands again, his thumbs hurriedly typing out the message.

“You going back out with Hobie?” Angel asked into his sudden silence.

“Yeah.” he said as he shook down his sleeves and placed his phone back in his pocket, slowly stepping closer to her and perching himself on her side of the bed, her legs shifting to the side slightly to give him space. “You gonna be okay while I’m gone?”

“Do I have a choice?” She responded flatly.

“Fair enough. Do you need me to get you anything else?” He said, tucking a strand of her hair back behind her ear.

“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “I think I’m just gonna go back to sleep for a bit, I’m feeling pretty exhausted after all- this.” She waved her hand around slightly as she silently referred to the moving and bed changing and being detached from the machines and her morphine drip downstairs.

“Okay. I’ll get someone to run up the painkillers the doctor prescribed as soon as they’re back with them.”

“Okay.” she quietly nodded.

Peter shifted and helped her settle back down into the bed properly, pressing a kiss to her forehead which she quickly chased with her lips. It caught him off guard a moment, not having actually kissed her since they fucked, the night before everything went to shit again. He suddenly pulled away from her hesitantly. His face hovered millimetres from hers as he watched her eyes open. The pain, that feeling of his rejection, reflecting in her eyes.

“I’ll be back later, okay?” he tried to reassure her as his hand reached up to cup her cheek.

“Okay.” she said quietly as she turned away from him, her eyes closing as she turned her head and buried it in her pillow.

-

Felicia’s limbs felt heavy and her head was pounding as she began to wake. She tried to move her arms, tried to rub the sleep from her eyes but they were met with resistance. Her eyes frantically flew open, instantly looking down at her arms in the dim room. She was tied to a chair. Her head throbbed as she began to thrash around.

“Hey!” she called out. “HEYY!!” She was pulling at her limbs so hard she almost knocked the chair over. A quick hand reached out from somewhere behind her to steady it back in place.

“Now, now, no need for that.” A sinister voice crooned. “Besides, no one’s gonna hear you all the way up here.”

“Do you know who the fuck I am!” Felicia spat at the invisible voice until he slowly began to make his way in front of her. She still struggled to make out his face, the only dim overhead lightbulb in the room backlighting him, casting his face in shadows.

“Oh I know who you are.” He said as he crouched down in front of her. “Felicia Hardy, also known as the Black Cat. Daughter to Walter and Lydia Hardy, both in jail or at least they were…” his voice trailed off causing her to stop pulling at the ropes that bound her to the chair, suddenly listening intensely. “They should be moving Daddy’s body out of there anytime, well, now.” he said, checking his watch for dramatic effect. He let out a low maniacal chuckle as her face fell, her bravado faltering. He slowly stood before he began to pace back and forth in front of her. “You picked up skills from your parents from a young age resulting in you getting into a life of crime when you were merely 14.” He continued, listing off her life events. “Cut forward to just under a decade later, parents imprisoned, you’re all alone and you pick the wrong house to burgle. Ooooh. But instead of calling the Police, no Peter Parker offers you a job because, as we’ve said before, you do have a particular set of skills and the infamous Spider is missing someone like you on his team. Not to mention his wife had just upped and left the country and he was in desperate need of someone he could let off some of that… steam with.”

Felicia let out a little chuckle, “See you were doing so well up until the end. You see, he didn’t use me, I used him.” she said coily. “Now, back to my Father, what have you done to him?” she sneered.

“Ooooh Kitty’s got bite.” he said playfully, as he moved over to a table hidden in the shadows of the blacked out room. He slowly dragged a chair across the concrete floor, the sound of the metal legs scraping across the floor making her skin crawl. He stopped it forcefully in front of her before sitting down, his knees brushing her own with how close he was now sitting. “Now here’s the thing, pretty kitty,” he says as the back of his fingers move to trail down the side of her cheek. She flinches under his touch and tries to move herself away, but it's futile, “no matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to send that angelic little wife of his back to heaven and I so- desperately- want to send the Spider a message. So seeing as she seems to have stolen all your nine lives for herself,” he says lowering his hand to his waistband and pulling out a knife, flicking the blade out and flashing it under the light for her to see, before he raises it up to her face, “I guess I’m just gonna have to send my message using you.”

-

Angel woke up a few hours later in pain. She sent a hasty thank you to the Gods when she turned her head to find a small bottle of pills next to her glass of water beside her bed. She switched on the bedside lamp so she could read the small print, ‘take on an empty stomach’. Perfect, she thought as she hastily unscrewed the cap, tipping two of the pills into her open palm, before throwing them back into her mouth. She hoped they worked quickly because she really was feeling uncomfortable.

Unsure with what to do with herself she instinctively looked at her phone. 1 new message, number unknown, the screen read. A small paperclip symbol appeared in the slot where the message usually would be. Her brow furrowed as she began to unlock the phone and open up the message a picture appearing on the screen.

‘What is that?” she thought to herself as she brought the screen closer. It was so random, it just looked like an alleyway. Then she noticed a very pale, blood covered hand in the corner of the screen. ‘What the fuck?’ 

“PETER!” she called out. She didn’t wait for a response, already climbing out of the bed, hobbling in pain towards the bedroom door. “Hey, Pete!” she called out again as she shuffled towards the stairs, one hand bracing her ribs, the other clutching the phone tightly in her fingers. There was still no response.

She clung tightly onto the handrail as she shuffled, one leg and then the other down each stair, wincing as she went. “Pete?” she called again. “Eddie?” still nothing. She groaned as she continued to shuffle across the floor of the empty apartment. Fuck! She looked down to the contacts in her phone. She didn’t have anyone’s number. Shit.

There was a ding in the hallway as the elevator reached their floor, a couple of voices talking as they made their way to the front door of the apartment. A sharp pain spread across her ribs as she began to quicken her pace, eager to reach the door.

“Shit!” A voice exclaimed as the door opened. “Angel, why are you out of bed?” Peter said, rushing to her upon seeing her up and about. She merely held the phone out to him as she braced herself against the back of the sofa. “What? What’s this?” he said as she winced in pain again. “Come on, let’s get you back to bed-”

“NO!” she said loudly, getting his attention. She forced the phone into his hand as Hobie came up beside her, his own comforting hand resting on her back. He silently looked between the couple as Peter held the phone up closer to his face. “Look in the corner.” she said.

“Hang on a sec, is this?” His fingers began swiping at the image, enlarging particular details. “Hobie, look at this.” he said, holding the phone out to Hobie.

“Is that the side of the Huntsman?” Hobie frowned looking down at the phone. “I’ll call them, get them to take a look.” He said before looking back at Angel. “Umm, do you wanna get her back upstairs?” Hobie continued, directing his words towards Peter.

“Princess-” Peter started, but Angel just shot him a death glare as if to say she wasn’t going anywhere until she knew what was going on. “At least let me help you sit down on the couch.” He said, holding his hand out for her to take, her fingers gripping tightly around his thumb as she shifted her weight onto him.

“Hey, yeah Carl? It’s Hobie. Can you check the side entrance to the club for us?” There’s a long pause while Hobie waits on the line.

Peter helps Angel lower herself slowly onto the green sofa and she lets out a small hiss of pain. “Have you taken anything?” Peter asks her, but she just shoots him another stare. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, jeez baby-” he suddenly says defensively.

“Hi, yeah- Pete.” Hobie’s voice says, getting his attention. When Angel looks across the back of the sofa to him his face is dire. “Yeah, yeah, okay. We’ll be right there.” Hobie says down the phone before hanging up. “They found Felicia.” Hobie said, a sorrowful look in his eyes. Peter and Angel wait for him to continue but he doesn’t, he just shakes his head before staring at the floor. 

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

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[pawpatroller]

Pups Stops Sticky Fingers

LittleJ-Vampire wanted a Chase story, but I wasn't sure what to write, so I got an idea after watching an old Sherlock Homes movie. If Rubble can have Apollo the Super Pup. Why not a detective pup for Chase? I hope he likes it.

It is a quiet day in Adventure Bay, and the pups decide to play at the park. They stopped by Chase’s pup house and knocked on his room. Chase opens the door wearing a deerstalker hat and a cape. Zuma sees him and starts to laugh. “You look silly dude. We are going to the park. Do you want to come with us?”

Chase shakes his head. “No thanks. A new episode of Sherlock Bones is coming on and I want to see it.”

Zuma laughs. “That’s a little puppy’s show”

Chase shakes his head. “No it isn’t. Sherlock Bones is the world’s greatest detective pup.”

Zuma shrugs. “Whatever dude. We are going to the park.”

Chase watches the pups leave to go to the park. He walks in and flops down on his head. “Zuma doesn’t know what he is talking about. Sherlock Bones is the great detective there is.” He yawns as the show starts. Chase wakes up as the pup tags goes off. “Ryder needs us.” He doesn’t notice he has a British accent like Sherlock Bone does. After Marshall’s wipeout and comedic one line. They head up in the elevator to the command center. All the pups come out in police gear. Chase’s gear is slightly different. Instead of his normal hat. He had a UK police hat. “Paw Patrol ready for action Ryder sir.”

Ryder nods. “Thanks for hurrying pups. “Someone has robbed the Adventure Bay Bank and left behind a strange goop. So I am designating this an Ultimate Rescue Mission Police style. Chase since you are our resident police pup. You will lead this mission.” Chase runs for the slide and goes down. He lands in his police truck and then goes down. The rest of the pieces of his Ultimate Rescue truck is added to his truck and then the Lookout lifts up. Chase drives out. He waits on the rest of the pups come down the slide and lands in their places. Chase drives to Adventure Bay with Ryder behind him on his ATV. He pulls up to the bank. “Rocky use your scanner to see if you can pick up any clues to who did it.”

Rocky jumps down. “Arff Scanner.” He looks around. “I see small piles of goop from the front door to the sidewalk and then nothing.”

Chase and the rest of the pups go inside. Marshall wasn’t looking where he was going and stepped in one of the piles of goop and face plants. “Whoa that is one sticky, ooey, gooey, gluey goop.”

Zuma laugh. “Bet you can’t say that fast three times.” Marshall tries and gets very tongue tied. Marshall and the pups laugh. “Told you so.”

Chase sniffs the goop and sneezes. “There is something very familiar about all of this, but I can’t remember what it is.” He looks at the pups. “Keep looking around and see if you can find any clues.” He turns to Ryder. “I need to go back to the Lookout. I think I know who can help out.” Chase jumps on Ryder’s ATV and they head to the Lookout.

When they get to the Lookout. Ryder looks at Chase. “Who are you going to call?”

Chase looks at Ryder. “The greatest detective pup there is. Sherlock Bones. If anyone knew who is behind this. He would be the one to help figure it out.” He heads upstairs and makes a video call to 221 B Barker Street.

Sherlock Bones appears on the screen. “Hello Chase. What can I do for my number one fan?”

Chase looks at the screen, “Hi Mr. Bones sir. I’ve got a problem and I need some help.”

Sherlock smiles. “You can call me Sherlock. What seems to be the problem?”

Chase nods. “Well there is a bank here that got robbed recently and whoever did it. Left behind piles of a glue like goop on the floor and counters. It seems familiar to me, but I can’t figure out why.”

Sherlock nods and blows into his pipe causing bubbles to come out. “It sounds like the notorious cat burglar Sticky Fingers is behind this. Give me a moment to look though my case files and I call you back in a few minutes.” Sherlock ends the call and goes to look through his case files with his assistant Dr. Watson. Chase paces a bit waiting on Sherlock to call him back.

Chase’s pup tag beeps. “Do you have any idea who is behind this?”

Chase answers back. “Yes I think so. Sherlock Bones thinks it could be a notorious cat burglar Sticky Fingers. He is looking through his case files to make sure.”

Zuma answers back. “If it is a cat. Shouldn’t it be Sticky Paws? Because cats don’t have fingers?”

Chase shrugs. “I guess. I’ll be back there in a little bit.” He ends the call as the screen beeps. Chase answers the call. “What did you find out?”

Sherlock puts a picture up on the screen. “Did the piles look like these?”

Chase nods. “Yes they did. Same color and shape.”

Sherlock nods. “I figured as much. It is Sticky Fingers alright. She is a very crafty burglar and will be hard to catch, but I know you can do it. If you need any more help. I’m a call away and good luck.” He ends the call.

Chase goes back to where the pups were and filled them in on what they were up against. He sniffs near the area there the goop stopped. “She went that way.” Pointing towards the museum. They head towards the museum. They get there just as Sticky Fingers was leaving with some painting” Stop in the name of the law. You are under arrest for bank robbery and painting thefts.”

Sticky Fingers turns to face Chase. “You will never catch me gumshoe.”

Marshall looks around. “Who has gum on the shoe?”

Sticky Fingers rolls her eyes. “It is an expression you idiot. It means detective. I’ve got to go back to Wolf Hampton. If I stay here much longer. I’m going to lose my cunning wits.”

Chase looks at Sticky Fingers. “Don’t talk about Marshall like that. He is my best friend. As for going back to Wolf Hampton. You will be going back in a kennel to Barkland Yard.”

Sticky Fingers’ concentration was interrupted by something small running past her. She turns her head and sees a toy mouse going by. Then another. She turns back to Chase. “That is low even for a dog.”

Chase smiles. “What’s wrong. Doesn’t kitty like mice? How about this. “Yarn ball launcher.” He launches some yard balls and Sticky Fingers tries to resist the yard balls, but her cat instincts wins out an she goes chasing the yarn balls right into the cage Rocky had built.

Sticky Fingers snaps out of her cat behavior when she hears the cage door shut and lock. “Curses on you and your friends. You have not seen the last of me. I will be back.”

Chase smiles. “And we will be here to stop you.”

As Sticky Fingers is carried away by two of Barkland Yard officers Sherlock Bones appears. “Good job on capturing Sticky Fingers. For going above and beyond in the capture of the notorious Sticky Fingers. I bestow the highest honor on you. The Wolf Fang medal and the title of Junior Detective First Class. The pups cheer for Chase. The voices get louder and then change. Chase feels something poking him and then Ryder’s voice. “Chase, it is dinner time.”

Chase looks around and sees he is on his bed in the Lookout. “It was all a dream.” He stands up and stretches. Something clangs against his pup tag. It was the Wolf Fang medal from his dream. “Maybe it wasn’t a dream after all.”

[lolitystories]

Don’t let me down 8 : The reception.

Dana wasn't feeling well. This evening was supposed to be the beginning of her new life. So… why did she feel so… Empty ?

She thought about her mother, who had abandoned her and her twin sister, who she hadn't spoken to in years. Her mom... Had a dark side, something she couldn't fight against and it destroyed their family.

Her sister became a priest. And she lost contact with other members of her family, including her cousin, Aaron.

Dana wanted to have everything she never had.

“There are a lot of idiots in this world. Love is for the weak, if you want to survive, don't become a weakling. Take everything this world can give, because you will never be given anything. And when you finally have power. Don’t give it to anyone…”

Those were the last words she said to her before she left.

She stood there, her migraines were starting again. Dana looked at Miguel and Sara, who were heading to another room.

Her instinct was to follow them, but Tyler grabbed her arm.

“Is everything okay my dear?”

"Yes. I just need to get some fresh air…I’ll be right back.”

She tried to catch up with them, but they had disappeared.

"Damn it…"

She looked left and right, then heard a “ding”.

The elevator ? They couldn't get there... And normally, there was no one up there.

“...”

Dana sighed and looked outside, then she saw a web and a shadow that she recognized.

A big smile formed on her lips, despite herself.

**

Arriving on the first floor, Sara discovered that Tyler's residence was not a house like any other.

From the outside, it looked like it was a like villa. The ground floor seemed ordinary and luxurious, but there…

Stone family paintings adorned the walls, the rooms along the corridor looked like experimental rooms. All specially designed for Tyler and extend his lifespan.

"How awful…"

She said, finding Tyler's father, asleep, cryogenically frozen...

“Is he.. alive?”

*Yes, artificial coma…*

Lyla warned.

“The Stone family seeks to become immortal ?”

While searching on the computer, Sara found a strange code.

“V.E.N.O.M?”

As she opened the file, a glass cylinder emerged from the ground.

A capsule, containing a black liquid appeared in front of her.

The information that appeared on the computer told her that it was a symbiote, coming from space.

So far, they had not found any hosts compatible with the creature. Loud noises, like music or ultrasound, seemed to subdue him. It is sensitive to fire and this can kill it, as can staying in a cold place without a host. But this should only be used as a last resort...

Sara had just finished downloading, when suddenly her spider senses sensed danger.

She turned around and found herself face to face with Dana, like that evening, when she had tried to steal data from Miguel.

Why hadn't Lyla warned her ?

And why hadn't she heard her coming this time again ?

“Dana?”

She didn't answer, her eyebrows were furrowed, as if she expected to see someone else.

“Dana, are you okay?”

Her eyes had a strange glow.

"I don't understand…"

She finally said.

“Oh… Well I got lost, this place is so big, are you lost too ? Come on, let’s go back downstairs.”

She walked past her, but she grabbed her arm before she could leave.

What a grip !

“Dana… You’re hurting me !”

"Why you…"

"What ?"

“I did everything I could do to get rid of you ! But you are always in my way !”

“...”

“You are like an insect that I cannot crush…”

She threw Sara against the computer, which displayed an error message.

Sara tried to regain her senses. When she tried to find Dana, she was about to hit her with a pipe she had torn off.

“That would be really funny… If it were you ?”

“Dana…”

“Tell me Sara…Is that you ? Are you Spider-man ?”

“...”

She froze and Dana took the opportunity to punch her in the ribs.

She then used the bar of the pipe to try to choke her, but Sara pushed her away, even with her strength she was able to fight.

It’s not normal...

“Dana, I don’t know if it’s because of Miguel but…”

“I’m not Dana !”

This voice... She had heard it before, it's impossible...

Her eyes had turned yellow, a crazy smile stretched her lips... Slowly... Her skin began to change.

“Call me… The Goblin. But… You know who I am, don’t you ?”

“...”

**

Miguel had already finished his exploration, he was going to contact Sara, when a strange sensation ran through his body. And that wasn't normal, because...

He didn't have spider-sense...

He listened to his instinct, an unknown force pushed his body to move quickly to the first floor. That's when the alarm went off.

It wasn't the first time he felt this way... And every time it happened, his heart raced, because it meant...

That Sara was in danger.

**

A storm was beginning to form above the city. Everyone was taking shelter, before the rain fell and among these people, there was a man, his aura was dark, as if death was following him in the shadows.

He was coughing and spitting blood, staggering and starting to hallucinate and yet...

He had a goal...

The rain was already falling when he arrived at Stone’s house. He would only have one chance... Everything was going to be decided tonight.

**

Far from all this, a woman was in Church, beginning a prayer for her twin sister. This person was “Jennifer D’Angelo”. The two sisters had not spoken to each other for years. In fact, she had completely cut ties with her.

Jennifer had seen something in her sister... Something that reminded her of her mother. And it terrified her, because there was nothing she could do about it.

Before, she wasn't like that, her heart was good, but little by little this thing took possession of her mind, pushing her to do nefarious things. As if... There were two of them. And little by little... Dana disappeared...

As she finished her prayer, Jennifer took a small chest in her hands, the key to which she always kept around her neck. It was an item that belonged to their mother and had been in the family for a long time.

A green mask, with horns, lay at the bottom of the chest. The lifeless eyes of the mask seemed to mock her, staring at her, because she was incapable of protecting those she loves.

**

Sara activated her suit and sent a shock to Dana, which made her let go.

"Sorry !"

She tried to run away, the last thing she wanted to do was fight with her.

“And where do you think you’re going like this !?”

She received a blow in the back, a bomb which propelled her against the window, she could have died, crossing it but a web caught her and brought her to safety.

The goblin tried to find her, but she had already disappeared.

Slowly, her anger began to subside, her skin and face regained their natural appearance.

As if waking from a dream, she blinked several times, trying to figure out where she was.

“What… But… What am I doing here ?”

“Dana !”

“Tyler ?”

The director arrived, made sure she was okay, then told his men to keep her safe while they searched for the intruder.

Miguel held Sara in his arms, quickly running to the car, to lay her down in the back.

"Are you ok ?"

“...I hate when she does that, you never see the object coming...”

“I know, luckily you were pretty far from the impact.”

“...”

The police arrived and the guests began to leave the place.

“I’ll take you home.”

He went to sit in the front.

As soon as they left the estate, she wanted to ask him this question...

“Miguel…”

“...”

“You saw her, didn’t you?”

"...Yes."

“Do you want to talk about it ?”

He sighed, his hands tightening around the steering wheel.

“That explains… Some things. But... She doesn't know what she's doing. I don't think she ever realized it. Maybe that’s why she said it wasn’t her fault ?”

“...”

“Another person I couldn’t help. Maybe if I had been a better fiancé, I would have seen what was wrong, I could have helped her…”

“Miguel…”

“It is nevertheless true. I wanted a simple life, a job, to start a family, I wanted to escape my past, just to be happy…”

They came to a traffic light. Sara took the opportunity to stand up and sit in the front.

“That’s why… I never dared to get closer to you.”

She widened her eyes.

"I'm sorry."

His outfit was still wet from the rain, but tears were about to fall...

Sara moved her hand to his.

“I forgave you a long time ago.”

It was his turn to widen his eyes.

“Dana was already like that, it’s not because of you if she changed. You loved her, and I know you still do.”

“...”

“Maybe we can still save her.”

“...”

“The goblin has been around for a long time, maybe I can find a way to separate her from Dana’s mind…”

“Do you want to help her?”

“I know you don’t want to lose her.”

Miguel looked at her sadly.

“Don’t worry about me Miguel, I know you can’t give me what I want…”

He tightened his fingers around hers.

"I do not want to hurt you. Not again…"

"I know."

The rest of the trip was silent.

When they arrived in front of her apartment, she didn't come down right away.

"What are you going to do ?"

“Analyzing the data is all we need for the end of Alchemax.”

“...Let me know if you find anything.”

"I will."

“...Call your brother.”

"For what ?"

“Because he was worried about tonight and… If you tell him what happened he will come.”

“...”

“You are not alone Miguel, we care about you, I…”

He took her in his arms.

“Just… Stay a little longer, please…”

He buried his face in her neck, she felt the tears fall.

"Okay…"

“...I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You won’t lose me, I…”

She stopped.

She thought about walking away but Miguel held her tighter.

"I know…"

Her heart beat harder, she got out of her seat to come to his, she stayed in his arms for long minutes, neither of them wanted to leave the other.

**

During the fight between Sara and Dana, the strange capsule that contained the symbiote broke.

The creature crawled and snuck towards the window, which was left open.

He had to find a host as quickly as possible to stay alive. The alien found a man... He seemed in bad shape, but he was alive. If he healed him, that might be enough.

He was arrested by the police, following the accident earlier. They found him suspicious, he was armed and on top of that, he was the man they were looking for, for another matter...

The poor target had his back turned, suspecting nothing. He approached slowly...

And the carnage began.

Back to masterlist - Previous chapter - Next chapter

[veemakesgames]

Minor Devlog - August 8th 2023

welcome to the first post about the remake of "Star Bun"! I'm working on graphics and mapping for the first room you'll see in the game: Bun's spaceship

it's pretty bare, and there's some redesigning to be done. for 1 i'm gonna expand the windows so you can see more of the scrolling space background, and later the planet landscape when you land and are in the meat of the game.

The menu is also very unfinished, please dont pay attention to it-

for reference: screenshots of Bun's ship from the original VX Ace game. You may note that it used to be 2 rooms, a main room with a little table and the control panel and the bedroom with a big UFO dome. I intend to sketch some designs of Bun's new ship, but I do already have ideas in mind, most notably it actually making any physical sense lmao-

the original is more like a generic RPG starting house that just so happens to be spaceship themed (the personalized rug looked good at the time, but i'm gonna make it way less of a center-piece, especially since I can fit the detail in less tiles thanks to RPG Maker MV having bigger tiles)

the few people that have played the original build, and even fewer of those that will be seeing this most likely, may remember that something possessed me to use dithering instead of normal gradients in that game's backgrounds, and it fucking Hurt to watch them scroll for any amount of time. I will not commit that same assault on my players' eyeballs this time around, lesson learned, i was just weirdly obsessed with only ever using and showing colors that were in Aseprite's NES palette preset, without ever actually adhering to NES limitations on anything

Planned additions to the remake ship:

the control panel at the front, of course

animated scenery

a central elevator that would be how Bun enters and exits the ship

bedside desk with new sketches and diary stuff to look at

other furniture, maybe?

---

it's not a lot, but that's that. hope to have meatier stuff to show off soon uwu7

[tousey-mousey]

So. I have heard the above stated unironically. For folks who agree with the above comment (which was made sarcastically, to be clear, they absolutely don't agree with the thing they said)... Here's my little diatribe. Sit down, shut up, and listen.

Gambling, especially slots like this, is strongly associated with poverty and having limited wealth. This is for many reasons but obviously one reason is fucking obvious: if you put all your money into a machine, you don't have any. These machines are specifically designed to prey upon poor people and people who were not taught financial literacy, which combined is a lot of people.

Problem gambling is DIRECTLY CAUSED BY treatment for Parkinson's disease. People who have never gambled before in their lives can suddenly develop severe gambling addictions. This is because some of the primary medications for Parkinson's disease directly elevate levels of dopamine in your brain. Drugs like carbidopa are literally designed to hyper-activate your reward pathways, because Parkinson's is a disease of low dopamine production, especially within the basal ganglia (which lets you start, continue, and stop voluntary movements and is also what's defective in people with tic disorders). People taking carbidopa have had their reward pathways ripped out of their head and replaced with a giant flashing fucking light saying "WOOOOO GAMBLING AND DRUGS BAYBEEEE!!!" It's not their fault they can't stop gambling and it's functionally IMPOSSIBLE for them to stop. Other issues with carbidopa include sudden food or alcohol addictions, other sudden substance addictions, and engaging in risky behaviours (especially risky sexual behaviours, which are kind of rampant in retirement homes). Frankly, if someone you love and have some part in the care in who has Parkinson's disease suddenly develops an addiction of some kind? You need to do something to try and stop them. Put limiters on their cards, get them blacklisted from all local casinos and put child safety locks on their phone apps, check on them more frequently, if possible become a co-signatory on their accounts and monitor their spending.

Do yous think that casinos are distributing that "hoarded wealth" that they steal from patrons? NO!!! THEY'RE FUCKING VAMPIRES!!! They fucking hoard it RIGHT BACK, and far far worse too. Old people have to pay to eat. They have to pay for utilities. They pass their money on when they die to younger family members who go out and buy houses. Casinos fucking don't. They put it in a big Scrooge McDuck pile and then they invest it into their friends' businesses and the wealth consolidation gets even worse.

These machines are fucking rigged and I cannot stress enough: were none of these other things true, that alone would make them evil. These things need to be shut the shit down because this is basically just legalised theft and I have no idea why.

I come from New South Wales in Australia, which is the unambiguous poker machine capital of the world. We have legalised poker machines OUTSIDE of casinos, which has led to virtually every pub having a stupidly high number of poker machines to the point that there is ONE POKER MACHINE FOR EVERY 88 FUCKING PEOPLE. Imagine walking into a normal-ass pub on a high street, and the first thing you see is a line of poker machines and a bunch of people sat in front of them, slowly and methodically dropping their food money into the slot. That's a normal sight in my home state, in this country that claims to give people a fair fucking go.

These machines are legalised theft, and they target the poor and the vulnerable and the elderly and the disabled. They target people that nobody cares about and systematically rob them, and this is considered "good business" instead of a "heinous crime against humanity" for no reason at all.

[citynewsglobe]

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EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT WATCHES

EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT BASIC WATCH COMPONENTS

(A) Crown - This is the knob used to set and wind a watch. It is located at 3 O’clock on a normal watch, but it is most often at 12 O'clock on Vortices watches because pocket watch movements power them.

(B) Lugs - Lugs come in many shapes and sizes, but they are always what the strap is attached to on the case.

(C) Case—The case houses the watch mechanism and is almost always made from metal. Vortic's watch cases are 3D-printed from metal.

(D) Dial - The face of the watch. This is the physical piece that we see from the front of the watch, usually having numerals or markers that the hands point to.

(E) Crystal - A watch crystal is the glass on the front or back of the watch that allows us to see inside the case. All of Vortic’s watches have Gorilla Glass crystals, but most watch crystals are made from mineral glass or sapphire.

(F) Hands - Watch hands point to features on the dial. They come in many shapes, sizes, and materials.

(G) Sub-Seconds Dial or Small Seconds - Many mechanical watches have a small subdial for the second hand. Many call this a "sub-seconds" dial or "small seconds". These subdials can be located anywhere on the main dial, but Vortic's sub-seconds dials are almost always at 6 O'clock.

(H) Strap - The band that holds the watch case to your wrist.

The following image is a fully disassembled Vortic wristwatch:- 

QUARTZ WATCHES:- 

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Hire Game Developers: Building Exceptional Gaming Experiences

The gaming industry has never been healthier, and demand to hire game developers with specialized skills has never been greater. For startups seeking to develop a highly unique mobile game or more established companies creating a full-scale console title, it is pretty essential to get the right game developers on board. What differentiates game developers is the creativity along with technical skills and the thorough understanding of game mechanics in creating appealing experiences for the users so that they would keep on coming back to the place. Here is what you must know while hiring the best game developers for your project.

Key Skills to Keep an Eye Out for in Game Developers

Game Engine Know-how:

Good knowledge of famous game engines such as Unity and Unreal.

Godot is also known as a platform for 2D gaming.

Custom-built engine support if necessary.

Programming languages are also a must.

Experience in C++, C#, and JavaScript.

Understanding in scripting languages for managing game event and mechanics.

Ability of AI programming for the creation of NPCs and games

3D Modeling and Animation Abilities

Creates complex models and animates fluidly.

Skills in Blender, Autodesk Maya, or 3ds Max

Knowledge of how to rig and animate to make the characters move and make the environmental dynamics.

Problem Solving and Debugging:

Strong debugging skills to help optimize the performance of the game.

Has knowledge of what bugs to expect in game development and how to get rid of them.

Capability to add feedback loops continuously for continuous testing and development.

There are different types of game developers:

Front-end game developers: They handle tasks like gameplay mechanics, interface, and user interaction

Backend game developers: They take care of the server-side coding that assists with multi-player interaction, data storage, and much more

Full-Stack game developers: One is great at both aspects; thus, they are pretty viable for full-fledged work.

Game Designers VS Game Developers: Game designers will come up with their concept, but the work done by game developers actually turns those concepts into codes and graphics.

Benefits of Hiring Game Developers

Customization: Features in accordance with what you wish your game will be.

Innovation: Developers bringing in new innovative ideas of how to elevate the game.

Optimized Performance: The developers improve the code, making game play as silky smooth as possible, with the rapidity as needed.

Scalability: You can rapidly scale features for your games with the help of expert developers.

Finding and Hiring Game Developers

1. Define Your Game’s Needs

Identify your target platform: PC, mobile, or console.

Specify the kind of gameplay, graphics, and features you want.

2. Select the Right Hiring Model

Freelancers: For small-scale or a specific short-term project, freelancers are great options.

In-House Team: Hire them in-house if it is long-term or an extensive one.

Outsourcing Studios: All-in-one deal with an experienced team having a strong background in developing games.

3. Review Portfolios and Experience

Check out the people you hire to see if they have any similar game experience.

Analyzing previous work for quality, creativity, and engagement

4. Conduct Technical Interviews

Testing for proficiency in relevant languages and tools.

Use problem-solving skills assessment via scenario-based questions.

Ask for sample projects or coding tests if possible.

Cost of Hired Game Developers

Freelancers: They normally request it on an hourly or a project basis. Their price depends on experience, location, and complexity.

In-House Developers: That is a long-term investment: salary, benefits, and equipment.

Outsourced Teams: Their cost is determined by the skills involved and the location of the teams.

Advantages and Disadvantages of hiring Freelancers vs. In-House Game Developers

Freelancers

Pros: Cheap, flexible, and diverse expertise.

Cons: Lack of control on work hours, less responsibility.

In-House Developers

Pros: Predictable work, easier collaboration, and smooth timelines.

Cons: Higher long-term costs, especially on benefits and overhead.

Maximizing ROI When Hiring Game Developers

Communication:

Updates are frequent to ensure that the work is done as per your vision.

Use project management tools to track deadlines and deliverables.

Quality Assurance:

Proper testing stages are done to detect bugs early.

Get player feedback to keep improving gameplay.

Post-Launch Support:

Ensure bugs are fixed and updates are made based on reviews from the players.

Seasonal content or expansions can be used to keep players engaged.

Conclusion

It’s concluded that the most crucial element in developing appealing and platform-independent games is the recruitment of experienced game developers. AIS Technolabs brings the technical expertise combined with creative insight from its experienced team of developers to provide high-end game development solutions. At AIS Technolabs, we focus on smooth project execution, quick troubleshooting, and a user-centric approach to bring your game vision to life. Ready to take your game project to the next level? Contact us today to support your goals with professional, innovative game development services.

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Normal House Front Elevation Design by House Plans Daily

Get complete details for normal house front elevation design by House Plans Daily. Explore a wide array of front, rear and side elevation designs PDF for normal houses and modern elevation design at House Plans Daily.