#aldo raine fic

[m0srael]

A series in which I ask my mutuals for fanwork recs, and then come back and tell you why I loved them. Any chance you have something to rec (the criteria are virtually non-existent)? Please, please send it on. Here is my original ask with more info.

I was recced:

Open Fire by @slytherco [Drarry | E | 38k]

Once upon a time, in a Death Eater-occupied Britain... A story about the Second Wizarding War, still going on ten years after the Battle of Hogwarts. While the Light Side struggles to keep evil at bay, those who wish to rid the world of Mixed-Blood Wix roam free, growing in power and persistent in their cruelty. In the meantime, in an undisclosed location, a group of rogue partisans works tirelessly, doing one thing, and one thing only: killing Death Eaters. Things complicate when during one of their raids, the Pack captures an old acquaintance who turns out to be a double agent. He can help them change the course of the War but change isn't something their leader takes in stride, both on the front and in his heart. An AU based on the movie "Inglourious Basterds" Song Prompt: Lion by Saint Mesa

One Sentence Recap: Open Fire is a fast-paced, no-holds-barred wartime AU full of expertly choreographed fight scenes, memorable characters, the kind of smut that will leave you blushing long after you finish reading, and a hopeful ending. This fic was written for the 2022 @hd-wireless fest, but it could have easily been submitted as part of @lcdrarry! The plot is inspired by the Quentin Tarantino film, Inglorious Basterds, which just so happens to be one of my all time favorites. Ola brings all the intensity and brutality you might expect from a fic based on a Tarantino film, so do mind the tags and read the endnotes if that fact gives you pause! There are three things that I think absolutely SHINE in this story--the action, the characterizations, and (of course) the smut 🔥.

🏃🏻‍♂️ The Action I think the real main character of this story is Violence itself. It organizes the characters lives, serves as their primary motivation, and forces the characters to confront their closely-held beliefs. This story has everything from cleverly-orchestrated ambushes to (not so) friendly sparring, and each encounter is orchestrated beautifully. If you're the kind of person who struggles to read smut or action when you can't figure out where everyone's limbs are, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised with how skillfully Ola has written these bits. But as over the top as it may seem, the brutality isn't gratuitous. Just like a Tarantino film, Open Fire takes conflict to its most extreme as a way to tell the reader something important and to hold a mirror up to to the latent violence of the every-day. I was on the edge of my seat from the very opening scene!

🤠 The Characters Because this story is inspired by Inglorious Basterds, some of the characters will feel familiar to you if you've seen the film. Harry Potter as Lieutenant Aldo Raine just makes...all the sense in the world?! He's relentless, in control, extremely powerful, and deeply committed to his cause (and hot...did I mention HOT?). Spy!Draco, too, is nuanced, compelling, and unavoidably loveable. He's calculating and ruthless at times, and uncertain and scared at others. Despite any similarities, though, each of the characters feels unique and deeply developed. I don't know if I've ever read a story with Werewolf!Hermione, and I absolutely loved her. But the stand out character in this story to me is Ronald B. Weasley. Without giving anything away (because I want you to experience the joy of meeting this character like I did), I have never read another Ron like this and I am so deeply smitten with him. More beautiful than the individual characterizations, though, are the relationships that Ola crafted throughout this story. The deep, familial connections among The Pack help to temper some of the violence and inject a necessary thread of humanity back into a harsh, unforgiving world.

🔥 The Smut Listen. Ola writes my favorite smut. I knew that before I read this story and the fact remains. Alabaster and Slick are two of my favorite fics ever written. Open Fire absolutely delivers on the tender, spicy front. Again, I don't want to give too much away because I want you to READ THIS, but the shaving scene?? THE SHAVING SCENE. You will think about it for...a long time. On top of that, the Drarry burn is slow but not too slow, builds deliciously and consistently, and pays off in the most satisfying, explosive ways! The enemies-to-lovers journey is handled so well, and I really love the introspection we get from both Harry and Draco that feels relatable, genuine, and so believable.

If you read this (or have read it), let me know what you think!!

*

Open Fire was recced to me by:

@caroll-in!

I am not an artist, and I don't know technical art terms, but what I DO know is that Karol's art puts a giant smile on my face whenever I see it. I can recognize a piece by Karol instantly--her style is so unique and unmistakable. There's so much energy in her linework and so much life in her colors. Her characters feel alive and relatable, and she's capable of packing whole epics in just one frame. Beyond that, Karol is such a lovely, kind, generous person and I'm so glad to know her.

Here are some of my absolute favorite works by Karol!! Not Again [Drarry | M | Comic] made for @hdsudsfest 2022 Not allowed a wand and being on house arrest in Malfoy Manor which magic is acting up and won't provide any tap water is a challenge but Draco makes it work. He takes advantage of the summer weather and resorts to bathing in the small stream running through the estate.

Everything would be peachy if only his parole Auror would stop timing his monthly probation visits while Draco is en déshabillé.

Trust Me [Neville/Draco | G | Comic] made for @chubbynevillefest 2022 Back at Hogwarts for his Eight Year, Draco finds himself in need of a quiet place where he could hide when everything feels too much. He finds a perfect nook not far from the castle but it turns out it's already taken...

The Matchmaker(s) [Drarry | T | Comic] made for @hderised 2019 It all started with an empty bottle of wine.

Thanks for sending me a recommendation!

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 1: The Tigers Stripes

OC Intro | Chapter 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The place looks great, Howard.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Seriously, Pete, I'm good."

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

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

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

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

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

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

I laughed as I started off toward the elevator. "I doubt it'll be any worse than usual."

Rain slid down the windows of the cab as we slowly made our way through New York traffic to my apartment building. It was sort of an in between place at this point. I rarely stayed there longer than a night or two when Peter was in the hospital and even when he was out I usually stayed at his place, just in case he needed me. I paid the cabbie and ran up the steps, trying not to get drenched in rain. I waved to the landlord as I passed by and quickly unlocked my door, wincing at the loud creaking noise it made when it opened. The pungent smell of dust and vague cleaning materials filled my nose instantly, making my head swirl with the suddenness of it. I tossed my bag onto the couch and hung my leather jacket carefully off the back of it, my fingers tracing the worn stitched on letters as I moved to my bedroom and quickly stripped to shower.

The hot water took a minute to kick in, but once I stood beneath the blistering spray of it my tense muscles finally began to loosen. Sleeping on hospital pull outs or in their old chairs was never comfortable, and my body certainly felt it. I tried not to think about the worst case scenario that tonight could turn into as I dried my hair and rummaged through my clothes for the appropriate attire that the high scale restaurant demanded. Not thinking something was difficult when you were about to walk face first into it, wearing clothes that fit too well and left no room to hide among the fine fabrics.

I didn't look like me, I decided when I looked into the mirror to pull my hair back. I looked like someone else… Someone that I might have been a long time ago but now… I shook my head and took a deep breath. There’s no time to turn back now. I reminded myself. Wrapping my leather jacket around my shoulders, breathing in the faint cologne and musk of alcohol and smoke, I let the nervous doubt fade. Peter was right, I wanted this… I'd studied and worked for something similar once. It was time to sink or swim, and I sure as hell wasn't going to sink now.

*

Jake hated the rain. He hated the way it smelt, hated how it lingered on every sidewalk and street, hated how it soaked through his clothes making him feel even more smothered than he normally did. He rode his bike quickly through the alleyway and nodded to his coworkers as they all huddled near the door smoking. Scott smirked at him and tilted his head to gesture to his pants. “Not the best weather for riding.”

“No shit,” he replied, grumpily as he swung the bike over his shoulder and shoved his way past them into the kitchen. Prep was in full swing, white coats weaving around him and yelling profanities and complaints as he passed by. Normally he’d slow down, take his time to really piss the cooks off with his big bike and sarcastic attitude, but he wasn’t in the mood for it today. Instead he walked up the stairs quietly and plopped his bike into the spot he always did, stripping in the back room and throwing his locker door open.

Light footsteps echoed behind him as he tossed his wet clothes inside and grabbed his work attire. The steps stopped beside the door and a soft sigh, one he knew far too well, filled the room. “You’re early today.”

Jake gave her a quick glance. Simone was ready for work, of course she was, her blonde hair tucked neatly into the ponytail and her clothes pristine, not a wrinkle in sight. It was her stiff face that made him roll his eyes and return his attention to his task. “You’re the one always on my ass for being late.”

“I’m just making an observation, Jake,” she replied, voice soft but he could pick up on the scolding in her tone.

“Well fuck off and go observe someone else.”

Simone set a hand onto his shoulder, the action one that should have made him melt… that had always made him before, but today made his body stiffen. “I’m worried about you. Ever since… You’ve been acting differently.”

The knot that had settled into Jake's stomach tightened as he shook her hand off. “I’m fine.”

Her silence was cold, bringing an uncomfortable shiver up his spine. "Is this about Tess?"

At the mention of her name Jake felt a rush of emotions fill him. Frustration, regret, anger. He looked at Simone and laughed. "Jesus, not everything is about that."

"Jake-"

“I said I’m fine.” He snapped. The silence was deafening for a moment before he sighed. “I’m fine, Simone.”

She nodded, a sadness filling her eyes that made him open his mouth to apologize, but she spoke first. “I know that things have been strained between us since she… Left, and I know you’re probably angry with me for my part in it." She shook her head, clearly frustrated. "I’m just looking out for you, like I always have and always will.”

“I’m not angry with you. She went behind both our backs and tried to get you fired. What happened it's on her. I'm just…” If he were to tell the truth Jake didn’t know what he was anymore. It had been simple before, all of it. He would work this uptight job, he’d keep his coworkers at arms length, he’d be with Simone if she that was what she wanted and if not he’d find some stranger to pass the time with, he’d get fucked up and go home and then do it all over again. It had been enough for him before and then something had happened. Something had changed. He sighed and buttoned up his shirt. “I’m just tired.”

Simone merely watched him for a moment before she, wordlessly, helped him with his tie. She smiled at him and stroked her hand across his cheek. “You can always talk to me. You know that right?”

“Of course I do.” He answered, leaning into her touch, hoping to feel the comfort and calm it usually brought him.

Jake watched her walk away, the knot growing as she vanished from sight. He felt nothing. No matter how much he drank or smoked, no matter how much attention Simone or anyone else gave him it never changed. He was numb. Numb to the city that once entertained him, numb to the things he once took some small measure of pleasure in and most of all numb to the reality of what it meant. He slammed his locker shut and ran his hands through his hair with a sigh. Pull yourself together. 

Nicky greeted him as he slid behind the bar and grabbed a rack of glasses to clean. “Ready for a long night?”

He shrugged, putting on his normal unbothered uninterested front. “Always am."

“Well, if the gossip floating around today is true it's going to be real interesting.”

“Howard got more bullshit up his sleeve?” He questioned with a huff.

“Don’t know how much of it will turn out as bullshit, but we’re getting a new friend today.”

Jake’s hands paused in their movements as he glanced up at Nicky with a raised brow and a smirk. “New friend? He actually hired someone then?”

Nicky nodded. “Remember that girl from last week?”

"The one he took to his office?"

"Yeah. He said she was more than qualified."

He hummed quietly as the quick glance he’d gotten of her replayed in his mind. He hadn't really had a chance to get a good look at her, but those that did, Sasha mostly, raved about how she looked like fun. “She must've been real impressive for him to hire her on the spot,” Jake joked. “What time does she get in?”

Nicky looked at his watch. “Any minute now.”

“This’ll be fun,” he replied, with a grin. Maybe that was all he needed to get rid of whatever his fucking problem was, something fresh and fun to toy around with. The kitchen doors opened and a flash of red filled his vision as the unfamiliar figure slid out into the open, pausing by the bar to look around. She was short, wearing professional looking attire, but the way she held herself was different… interesting. Her head turned and their eyes locked. 

Most people would have looked nervous, scared even, on their first day in such a prestigious place, but not her. There was no hint of fear in her glimmering green eyes, nothing at all save for a mild annoyance he assumed was directed at him. She looked bored. Jake’s smirk widened as he watched her turn away from them and walk toward the noise of the rowdy family meal. This was exactly what he needed.

*

Isaac leaned up against the wall in the half covered alley, making light conversation with a few of his coworkers, as I approached. He looked away from them and smiled widely, opening his arms and practically swallowing me in them. “Lena! Took you long enough! I’ve been waiting forever.”

“Sorry,” I answered. “Had to dig these shitty clothes out of my closet.”

He chuckled, dark curls of hair twisting out from beneath his bandana. “Well you look fantastic!”

I gave him a look and rolled my eyes. “I look like a washed up pianist or something.”

Isaac bit his bottom lip to hold back his loud chuckle. “I think you look more like an unsuccessful magician but maybe that's just me."

“Shut up.” I swatted his shoulder and followed him inside, forcing my breath to remain deep and even as the familiar excited chaos of the kitchen raged around me.

It had been years since I’d heard the clamoring of voices and the sharpness of the knives and felt the heat of the industrial ovens and stovetops in full swing. I’d missed it far more than I thought. Isaac led me to the back room and knocked on one of the lockers with a smile. “This one's yours.”

Examining the empty space I tossed my bag inside and carefully shrugged off my jacket, hanging it up. “Where’s my shirt?”

“Howard has it.” I raised my brow at him, earning a quick shrug. “Don’t ask me why, I never know what he’s got going on in his head.”

“Great,” I muttered, closing the locker and turning on my heel, running into a solid body. Every inch of me tensed at the feel of an unfamiliar hand grabbing my arm.

“Careful,” the man said, steadying me. I looked at him, perhaps a bit too coldly, noting his neat brown hair and his wide dark eyes as he held his hands up innocently and gestured to the locker beside mine. “Sorry, I was just trying to squeeze behind you.”

I forced out a hot breath and shook my head. “It’s fine, you just startled me.”

He held his hand out to me with a smile. “I’m Will.”

“Lena.” I replied, shaking his hand firmly. “You Howards manager trainee?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“I’ve been trained to identify management,” I replied with a modest shrug.

He chuckled and nodded to Isaac. “She your trail?”

The burly man laughed loudly and shook his head. “Nope.”

Will's eyebrows scrunched together as he looked back at me with a tilt of his head. “Wait, you're not trailing anyone?”

“No, at least I don’t believe I am.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Okay, well I… uh… I guess I can show you around, help you learn the ropes?”

I offered him a pat on the arm. “I’m good, but thank you for the offer. Do you know where Howard is?”

“He’s, uh, downstairs overseeing the family meal.”

“Thanks Will,” I said, sliding past him. “I look forward to working with you.”

I made my way through the kitchen and out the doors leading into the lobby. Everything looked so elegant and at the same time so boring. Nothing had changed about the posh space, not the tablecloths or the chairs or the glassware. It was all frozen in time, everything but the flowers. My eyes settled onto them for a moment, taking note of the tiny speck of new before I turned my head toward the bar, or more specifically the pair of blue eyes burning into me from behind it.

The man was tall, lean with messy dark hair and a cocky grin. He was attractive and he obviously knew it judging by the way his eyes unflinchingly took me in. I should have expected at least one cocky bartender, I thought to myself as I turned away from him and followed the noise deeper into the lobby. A long table was surrounded by the staff, all of them chattering over their plates of food telling jokes and bitching about how tonight was going to go. Everyone was too preoccupied to notice me, everyone but one woman.

Her eyes watched me closely, the plainness of her face revealing nothing outwardly while also telling me everything I needed to know about her. She would be a problem. Her blonde hair shifted as she tilted her head to the side, observant eyes trying to gather as much information on me as they could. She made herself look occupied by swirling the glass of her wine, looking at the liquid for a moment before looking back up at me with a soft smile. Soft and kindly as she appeared I knew better than to fall into such an obvious trap.

"Oooh, what's this?" A thickly accented voice cooed, pulling my attention away from the scrutinizing gaze of the blonde woman. The man was tall, bald with a long face and wide grin, two women moving to stand beside him, studying me with a similar look. "A baby tiger looking to earn her stripes?"

"This one already has stripes," Howard stated, moving toward the group quickly and handing me a neatly packed shirt. The group murmured among themselves, eyes darting between me and each other as Howard pulled a chair out for me and told them to take their seats.

The bartenders wandered back and took seats at the table where plates had already been made for them. The dark haired man sat beside the blonde woman and they shared a few hushed whispers before his blue eyes settled onto me and that shit eating grin returned. I rolled my eyes and focused on Howard as he began the quaint little meeting. A cocky bartender and a competitive shrew. Fucking great.

“It's good to see so many of you looking prepared for another night of excellent service." Howard regarded the group with a sarcastic look as he folded his hands behind his back.

"Is tonight not some kind of special occasion?" The light voice echoed from the blonde woman as she took a gentle inhale of the wine before taking a modest sip with a smile. "I highly doubt you'd bring out such an extravagant bottle for nothing."

"Excellent observation, Simone. It's a welcoming gift from the owner." Shit. Howard smiled down at me and poured me a glass of the rich crimson liquid. "As you are no doubt aware, we have a new member to the family. I trust we'll all be putting our best foot forward to show Ms. Harrow how things are around here."

I smiled politely, quickly examining the wine before taking a drink. "Thank you, Howard. I trust you’ll pass along my thanks to the owner as well for such a gracious welcome."

The woman, Simone, hummed quietly. "A bottle of 2002 Château Lafite Rothschild is quite a gift. I don't think I remember anyone else getting something so… Generous."

Yep. She was definitely going to be a problem. "2000 Château Lafite Rothschild. The 2002 is more acidic than this, fruity but a hair bitter. The temperature of the season resulted in riper grapes and thus the richness of this particular vintage."

"You know your wine," she said with a smile.

"I know enough," I replied with a modest smile. "There's always more to learn."

Howard cleared his throat and resumed control of the gathering, but Simone never took her eyes off me, not even when her companion turned to whisper something to her. I didn't let it bother me, not when I had bigger fish to fry. If the owner knew I was here, then there was a higher chance this whole thing could lead to far more horrifying individuals learning about my newfound job. It wouldn't come to that though, not if she kept her lips sealed, which she would… She'd give me that much respect.

After he’d finished his speech Howard set a hand on my shoulder and I could feel Simone’s eyes drinking the action in. “You’ll be in the kitchen tonight.”

“What does your chef think of that?” I asked cautiously, the last thing I wanted was to piss off the kitchen.

“He’s not exactly… excited, but I’m certain he’ll come around once he sees you in action.”

“That’s a risky play.” I smiled to myself. “It’s a good thing I’m so pleasant to be around.”

Howard only smiled as he turned to attend to his duties before opening, leaving me sitting at the table with the rest of the staff as they all murmured to themselves. I kept my head down, listening to the conversations going on around me before the man from earlier moved from his seat and dropped his dishes in front of me. I looked up at the now smug and smiling face giggling down at me. The Russian slid from his tongue smoothly, naturally, “Wash these, dish bitch.”

I looked back down as his friends piled their dishes on top of his, clearly amused by his antics. With a soft hum I finished the wine in my glass and stood, grabbing the dishes as I did, smiling at the stranger. “Since you asked so nicely.” The crude amusement dropped from his face the second he heard my reply in his native tongue. I gave him a pat on the cheek as I passed. “I’m a bitch with lots of tricks.”

As I walked toward the kitchen I could hear the loud ruckus of shock and awe behind me as the bald man reacted to the little I’d given him. The kitchen doors swung open, revealing Howard speaking to a very angry looking asian man whom I could only assume was the chef. I slid past them and toward the back jumping into washing the dishes I’d been carrying. The young man beside me regarded me with wide eyes as he held his hands out for the pile. “I can wash these.”

There were plenty of dishes already sitting in the sink, a pile that would only grow when everyone else decided to clean up after themselves. “Between the two of us this will go by quickly.” I smiled, diving into the dish pile. “Are you fast?”

“Fast?” He asked, nervously curious as he began tensely working beside me.

“At washing.”

The man chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. “I guess.”

“Want to race?”

He nodded and for a few blissful minutes of nothing but simple dish washing and a low stakes wager I felt a spark, old and long dwindling, pulse to life in my chest. I’d really missed this. Being part of a kitchen wasn't unlike being part of a family, and though I had a family, blood and not, a part of me had been longing for this specific kind of closeness. 

When there were only a few dishes left the man held his wet hand to me. “I’m Santos.”

“Lena,” I replied, stacking my last dish and shaking his hand. “It’s been a pleasure washing dishes with you.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “You didn’t have to help, but you did and I…” he smiled. “Just thanks.”

I bumped his shoulder with mine. “We’re a team, aren’t we? Teammates help each other out, even when they don’t have to.”

“So, you gonna be back here often or are you one of the servers?”

Looking back at the still pissed off chef I sighed. “Guess I should go find that out, huh?”

He glanced at the chef and made a face. “Good luck.”

Moving through the bustling kitchen I stood across the table from the chef and smiled. “I’m-”

“I don’t give a shit who you are,” he said, harshly. “Howard is insane if he thinks I’m just going to let you hop on the line and fuck up my shit. Are you even qualified to work in a kitchen?”

“I am,” I assured him, straightening my back. “You can put me on vegetables or something low risk until you think I can handle it but I promise I’m not here to slow down service, Chef.”

The man hummed, watching me closely with narrow eyes before he nodded to an open station. “You start there, but don’t get too comfortable because I’ll be watching. One mistake and you’re out.”

“Yes, Chef.” I moved to take my place, examining the workstation and the knives to make sure they were sharp and ready for the long night of fast paced service ahead. I took a deep breath, anticipation settling into my gut. Time to swim.

*

Jake was paying far more attention to his surroundings than he usually did. On a normal night he’d only really pay attention to the bar and the suckers that sat at it looking to drown their sorrows or be wowed by some flashing handwork and a decent drink. Anything beyond the long counter of bottles and ice was practically dead to him, but tonight was not a normal night, not anymore. Jake watched the kitchen doors, his head turning every time they opened hoping to see that flash of red hair and that bored face, but he never did.

Nicky chuckled at him the fifth time he turned. “She’s in the kitchen tonight.”

“Oh yeah?” Jake asked softly. “She on dish?”

“Line,” Nicky replied, meeting his expression of disbelief with a nod. “Apparently she’s killing it too.”

Jake smiled, serving his drink and moving past Nicky toward the kitchen doors. “This I gotta see. Cover me?”

“You got it.”

This girl was either a great liar or she was more experienced with the environment than he thought. He slid into the kitchen, quietly moving out of the way of servers and a few cooks as he moved to get a view of the redhead. She was chopping vegetables at an intensely quick speed, head down and eyes focused on her task. Scott watched her closely for a minute with a slightly impressed expression as she interacted with the rest of the kitchen with ease. This girl was absolutely in her element here and it only made Jake’s curiosity peak more.

When Scott barked some order at her she began moving toward him, an opportunity finally presenting itself. He let her slide past, keeping his head down as he slid directly behind her forcing her to turn into him when she moved to return to her work. Green eyes burned up at him as she stepped away from his chest with a low, surprised noise. “You should be more careful about where you walk, Lana.”

She responded quietly, “It’s Lena.”

“Right,” he said, taking a step forward, pushing her back into one of the counters as he slid past. “Sorry, it’s a hard name.”

He couldn’t see her face as he moved back toward the bar with some random rag, but he could feel her eyes follow him out the door. For the first time in weeks he felt alive, this Lena would do the trick. He’d have some fun and life would go back to normal. Soon the heat from her eyes faded under a new, colder gaze. Simone watched him from across the lobby, her face set in the expected smile and softness of a server, but her eyes held something Jake couldn’t quite place. Not jealousy, not anger… concern maybe.

*

The night dragged on for hours, and with each passing one Scott, the chef, pushed me harder and harder in an obvious test of my skill and limitations. As the service began to slow he settled in beside me, plating the last dishes with finesse and ease. “It seems I underestimated you.”

“I don’t blame you,” I admitted. “New additions to a well functioning kitchen are always a bit hard to navigate.”

“Where’d you study?”

I shrugged. “A bit of everywhere, I was part of an… extensive program.”

He nodded, the not answer one he thankfully chose to ignore. “Why here? With your skill you could easily find a place with a higher position available.”

“I didn’t finish my schooling,” I said. “Most places hiring for back of house positions want the whole shebang of experience.”

“Why’d you drop out?”

A lump caught in my throat as I sighed. “My dad died.”

Scott paused in his plating to look over at me with a knowing look. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, he lived a good life.” I smiled, fond memories filling my mind for a moment. “But, after he died there was a lot of stuff to work out and I just didn’t have time for both.”

“Well, I don't really know you, so I can’t really say much about your character or work ethics, but you didn't suck tonight.”

I laughed and nodded. “High praise, Chef. You gonna let me stick around then?”

“Eh, why not?” He teased before turning to the rest of the kitchen. “Alright everyone, that’s the last plate. Let’s close it down!”

I cleaned my station quickly, sliding back into place beside Santos and silently washing beside him. Isaac eventually joined us, leaning beside the sink and making light conversation while we worked. “You staying for drinks?”

“Fuck no,” I scoffed looking at him with a raised brow. “The last thing I need tonight is to play twenty questions with people.”

“Oh come on, Lena! Live a little!” Isaac smirked. “Tell her Santos!”

The man beside me shrugged, clearly shy. “I mean they open the bar up. You can get some pretty decent drinks.”

“Decent drinks,” Isaac agreed. “Come on. Please?”

“Not tonight, Isaac.” I wiped the water off my hands.

My friend whined but nodded. “Tomorrow?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m taking that as a yes!”

Santos and I walked to the back room together, changing in relative silence before he cleared his throat and offered his hand to me. “Have a good night, Lena.”

I shook it. “You too, Santos. See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

It was easy to sneak out the back door and grab a cab back to the hospital. Usually they didn’t let people in, but given the particular circumstance the nurses let me pass with smiles. “How’d tonight go?”

Lisa grinned. “I was gonna ask you that. He had a good night, though he’s being an absolute pain about resting.”

“Figures,” I joked.

“How was your first day?”

“Good,” I said simply. “Work is work.”

“Don’t I know it honey.” She gave my shoulder a squeeze as she passed. “Try and get that brother of yours to sleep!”

I smiled. “On it Lis!” The room was dark, save the light from the TV, still playing renovation shows, and the dim lights from the city outside. Peter sat up in his bed, eyes tiredly watching the TV as he repositioned his pillows. I knocked on the wall, alerting him to my presence. “Lisa’s pretty pissed at you for being up.”

Peter smiled. “She’s told me as much.” He patted the bed next to him, scooting over to make room for me. “How was work?”

“It was fine,” I said as I moved to join him in the bed. “The place hasn’t changed at all.”

“Figures. Maddie’s always been a bit set in her ways.”

“She knows I’m working there,” I said quietly.

Peter only nodded. “She is the owner, if anyone was gonna know it’d be her.”

“Yeah, she made a big show of it this morning.”

“Give ya and expensive bottle?”

“Oh yeah.”

He chuckled. “I bet everyone loved that. Did you make any new friends?”

I made a gagging noise. “New friends? Fuck no!”

Peter rolled his eyes and looked at me. “You gotta start being more friendly or you’ll be stuck playing scrabble with me every night.”

“I like scrabble.”

“You know what I mean,” he insisted.

“I've got friends, Pete.” I answered. “Prue and Quin, Isaac and Ozzy and all the others.”

“Work friends, Lena. People you can relate to about your fancy new job.”

“It’s not that fancy.”

Peter flicked my forehead. “Not the point dumbass. Just, try to make friends okay?”

I rubbed the now throbbing spot on my head. “Why are you so adamant about me getting all buddy buddy with people?”

“You’re gonna need connections in a place like 22West. I know it and so do you. It’s not the most cutthroat you’ve dealt with, but it’s still a competitive environment with plenty of people out to assume control.”

My mind flashed to Simone and her mumbling companion. “Point taken. I’ll try to be even more friendly tomorrow.”

“That’s all I ask.” He sighed, finally relaxing into the stiff mattress. “Now, how was your day?”

I smiled. "You were right. I did enjoy it a little bit."

He chuckled. "A little bit? Yeah right! Tell me about it, I'm all ears, little sis."

We only talked for a while longer before Peter dozed off beside me. Lisa poked her head in and gave me a thumbs up. As I lay beside my brother, watching the old episodes of his favorite shows I couldn’t help but smile. It was nice, being back in the swing of a kitchen… nice being reminded that life was more than hospitals and treatments and fear. I snuggled deeper into Peter's side, pulling his blankets up higher and closing my eyes. “Sweet dreams, Pete.”

*

The next day began much like the others. I stayed next to Peter for a while then I went home and freshened up before heading to the restaurant. This time when I entered people greeted me, the cooks were still not totally sold on the newcomer but they recognized me as someone that could at least do the job. Santos gave me a friendly wave as he prepped for a long night of dishes and grime and Scott gave me a nod as I passed by and headed up the stairs to get changed. A post it note was stuck onto my locker with Howards familiar and over the top handwriting telling me to help prep front of house this morning.

I donned the shirt and quickly made my way down to the lobby, ignoring the way everyone still stared at me as I polished glasses and began setting up the salt shakers at the tables, polishing each pair before moving to the next. Soft footsteps moved swiftly behind me and the tall blonde woman, Simone, reached over and grabbed one of the shakers to polish it. The stiff silence sent a chill of anticipation up my spine, but eventually she spoke, “You seem to be quite familiar with the intricacies of this place.”

A classic probe for information, I thought to myself as I remained focused on my task. “I have experience with this line of work.”

“Yes, Howard’s told me as much.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “What confuses me is why you’re here at all. We aren’t short staffed and truthfully Howard only interviews people for the fun of it. It’s rare that he actually hires someone, even more so that they’re hired on with no trails.”

“If you’re going to ask me what makes me special you’ll be sorely disappointed.” I replied with a soft laugh. “I’m not special at all. I’m just like everyone else that works here.”

Simone shook her head. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. Howard and the owner have expressed some kind of gratitude for you being here, that means something.”

“I know what it means,” I assured her.

“Then perhaps you could enlighten me?” Her tone was sweet, almost sickly so as she tilted her head at me.

I sighed. “Listen, I understand that my sudden appearance has disturbed the normal day to day of this place. People are bound to have questions, but I am not bound to answer them. I don't know you and honestly I am not exactly feeling inclined to pour my heart out to you and let you in on my deep dark secrets. I’m here to do the job I was hired to do, that’s it.”

She smiled, a gesture that was now clearly tense. “I’m just trying to figure you out.”

“You don’t need to figure me out to do your job.” I replied. “And I don’t need to be coddled to do mine.”

“Alright then,” she said calmly, coldly.

“Thank you for your help,” I said as I took the now empty tray back to the kitchen and set it down on the counter.

The alley was not exactly the most comforting spot to sit in, but I needed a breather and it seemed like the quietest place. Simone wasn’t unique, she was actually incredibly textbook when it came to places like this. She banked on her knowledge and position in the hierarchy of the restaurant to get her what she wanted. What that was would be more unique to her rather than some generalized whole, but given what little I could gather from her in our short conversations she was looking for control. The only question that remained was why. Control for comfort or control for power?

"Tiger!" The bald man from yesterday sang, as he stepped out into the alley with an already lit cigarette, the two women from yesterday following him close behind. "I’ve finally cornered you! Did you think you could just speak Russian at me and disappear?"

“I was hoping.”

“You speak Russian?!” He shook me with a manic giggle.

"Among other languages," I replied in Russian.

His face lit up and he put a hand over his heart. "It feels like I am home again! You sound like my mother!"

I grinned. "A compliment I hope?"

"Absolutely!" he said, waving his cigarette dramatically. "My mother is the best person in the whole world!"

“Still think I’m a bitch?”

“Oh I’m certain you are,” he laughed. “I am Sasha.”

“I'm Lena.”

He shook his head, blowing a puff of smoke out of his pursed lips. “Too plain!” He pointed to me with his middle finger and smiled. “You are Tiger Bitch now.”

I laughed and shrugged. “Beats dish bitch I guess.”

Sasha wrapped an arm around my shoulder and gestured to the two women smoking beside him. “These lovelies are Ari and Heather.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said, offering up my hand.

The first woman, Heather, shook it with a kind smile. Her tight curls bounced as she shifted on her feet. “You sure know how to make an entrance.”

The second laughed. “I will never forget the look on Simone’s face when you told her to fuck off.”

“She didn’t say that,” Heather said quietly.

“No, but we all knew that's what she wanted to say,” Ari argued. “Simone certainly read between the lines.”

I breathed out a soft sigh. “I’m guessing she’s not going to just let that go and leave me alone now?”

They all laughed and Sasha shook his head. “No, she’ll likely pester you twice as much now to try and get her little know it all prissy claws into you.”

“Great, that’s just what I need.”

“Oh don’t pout Tiger Bitch,” he cooed, stroking my hair. “If I had to bet on anyone being able to go toe to toe with her, it’d be you.”

“You just want to see a fight.”

He shrugged, mischief shining in his eyes. “I’m Russian. We always enjoy a good fight.”

Heather rolled her eyes. “It’d hardly be a fight. Simone has too much of a hold on things here. Sorry new girl, but I doubt you’d make a dent.”

“I think she’d get a few good hits in at least,” Ari added, digging into her pockets. “Need a pick me up?”

“No thanks,” I answered, the now distant memories of the rush whatever pills she had on her burning in my mind. “I’ve kicked shit like that.”

Ari groaned. “God you’re just like Sasha!”

“You’re sober?” I asked the bald man beside me as he snubbed out his cigarette.

“I am!”

“It’s only been like three months!” Heather reminded him.

He slapped her arm. “It still counts! How long have you been sober Tiger?”

“A while.”

Sasha hummed, examining my face closely. “You look like the type with some really fucked up past.”

I smiled. “Takes one to know one right?”

“You’re a cunt. I love it.”

Will’s head popped out of the back door and he sighed. “There you all are. Service starts in thirty minutes, let's get a move on.”

“Bossy bossy!” Sasha hissed, embracing Will in a tight hug. “Loosen up a bit or you’ll end up like Howard!”

“Or worse, Simone,” Ari said with a snicker.

Will rolled his eyes. “Well at least they’re not wasting time smoking and gossiping.”

“You love to gossip,” Heather chided as she moved past him.

“Not when we have service to prep for.” Will sighed at the crowd and nodded to me. “Don’t let these idiots get you into trouble.”

Each of them made offended noises as we moved through the back hall toward the lobby. “Thanks for the heads up, they seem like real rabble rousers.”

Scott had the kitchen in full swing by the time I’d washed my hands and gotten ready to hop into whatever position Scott wanted me in. He nodded to me. “You’re with me tonight, newbie. Try to keep up.”

I smiled. Finally something somewhat challenging. “Yes Chef.”

It was amazing how it had been years since I'd spent this much time in the fast paced chaos that was a professional kitchen yet my mind and body still remembered every step, every skill and ingredient that it needed to. All those years of study, all the years of sweat and tears and pain that I survived just to have this second chance of sorts… It was all made worth it when that tiny spark began to burn brighter in my chest. It was worth it as I finally began to feel how much I loved this. That was why I was here. Sure, I needed to start making steady money again, but I could do that anywhere… I wanted to be here, wanted to find this passion again.

The night was busy, just like the one before and likely the one to follow, but I kept up with the rush of food and orders and plating. I kept pace with Scott, who never outright praised my work, but looked over everything I did with an approving him. This was where I belonged, a hot and crazy kitchen putting my eager and skilled hands onto the food and sending it out to a crowded lobby of rich assholes willing to blow hundreds of dollars on anything we have them.

As soon as everything was cleaned up I snuck away to my locker, changing into a more comfortable T-shirt and holding my jacket tightly. My fingers ran over the peeling letters. Jack & Ozzy's. I smiled to myself. "Hope you're proud of me big man."

"There you are!" Isaac shouted from the doorway as he stormed towards me. "I was promised drinks."

"I made no such promise!" I reminded him as I pulled my jacket on. "You convinced yourself of my acceptance."

He shrugged. "Same thing. Come on, you're staying for at least one drink."

I signed and let him tug me into step beside him. "One drink. Then I'm outta here."

"Yeah yeah," he mocked. "Could you lighten up just a little?"

"Never." I smirked. "That'd make your life way too easy."

*

The first night Jake had been… Disappointed. It wasn't often he stuck around too long after service, he had far better places to be of course, but he did. All to see the new girl. He wasn't desperate, not in any sense of the word, if he wanted he could go to a random bar and pick up any girl he wanted. But he wanted this one. He wanted to get that bored look to twist into something more fun, wanted to pull that red hair into his hands, wanted to see just how much she'd give up.

When she hadn't come out with the cook that seemed to be closest to her he felt an irrational sense of frustration rise up into his chest. She'd not even bothered to show up, not even bothered to grace the waiting crowd with answers to their endless questions. It was impressive, or it would have been if he hadn't been so pissed off. He had to spend that whole night listening to them talk about her, the cook giving away nothing to any that asked. Even Simone couldn't seem to stop talking about her. This girl… Lena, was something else and Jake was fucking curious.

So when she slid out of the kitchen doors with the cook on her arm he smiled. He stayed off to the side, observing her as she sat down beside Sasha and gave the group her attention. Simone had already left with Howard like she always did and so now was the perfect time to see what the redhead was really made of. He pushed himself away from the dark corner and moved around the bar, giving Nicky a pat on the shoulder as he passed.

He practically shoved her cook friend out of the way and leaned toward her with a flirty grin. "What's your drink?"

*

I looked up into those pretty, shallow, eyes of his with a scoff. Who the hell does he think he is? He leaned forward, the chain around his neck almost dangling as he grew closer. I shrugged, giving him my best set of doe eyes. "What can you make?"

That smug, self assured smirk grew wider. "Anything you want."

"I'll just take something simple."

From behind him Isaac rolled his eyes at me. "Something simple then."

Sasha downed his drink and slid his glass toward the man with a smile, "Make me one too Jakey."

I leaned forward against the bar, if a game was what he was looking for I'd play. It'd been a long time since I'd seen a man like him humbled. "Jake? That's your name?"

He looked up at me, self assured and smug still, but his pupils flared when I spoke his name. "Yeah."

"Where'd you learn how to mix drinks?"

"Here and there. It's all about time and practice," he said coolly. "Most people struggle more with the attitude than the actual drink making."

"But not you?"

That smile grew. "Nah, I was born for this shit."

"Hmm."

“What?” The man asked, the cocky look on his face twisting into a challenge.

“I dunno, I just don't think it’s as impressive as you say it is,” I clarified sweetly.

"Maybe not, but this takes a lot of skill, and a bit of charm for good measure. Plus you gotta be good with your hands.” He winked at me.

I resisted the urge to laugh. "You think quite highly of your skills.”

The bartender beside him rolled his eyes and served Sasha another drink. "You can say that again."

The flamboyant Jake simply continued. “I'm very good at my job.”

"How good?"

His eyes flashed to mine, drinking in the shy body language I'd molded. "Is it a show you're hoping to get by batting those lashes of yours?"

I hummed softly. “I'm just curious. Maybe we could make a bet.”

“A bet?”

I stood from my seat, Isaac shaking his head in the corner as he fought against his laughter. I moved around to join them behind the bar and looked up at Jake with a fake look of innocent curiosity. “You make a drink, I’ll watch and then I’ll make it the same way, maybe even better.”

The challenge shined in his eyes as he leaned down closer to me. It was obvious he expected me to back up, to yield at least for a moment, because when I didn’t his smile faltered for a split second. “What will this prove?"

"How complicated bartending can be, and how good you are at it."

"What do I get when I win?”

“Fifty bucks.”

“A fifty dollar drink?” He questioned with an amused noise as he mulled the offer over.

Sasha rolled his eyes. “I’m bored! Take the bet and give us a show!”

Everyone else cheered and Jake’s smile widened as he stood up straighter. “Better pay attention, I won’t slow it down for you.”

“I think I’ll manage,” I assured him, leaning against the bar and turning my eyes to his hands as he gathered up his materials and got to work.

He was a skilled bartender, the fluid movements of his hands reminded me of Ozzy in his prime. Jake’s technique had an extra flare of elegance that I could only assume he’d adopted while working here to give the rich guests a bit of an extra show. His hands curled around each ingredient he used, every drink and garnish being added to the cocktail with finesse and precision. The drink itself was one I’d made a hundred times, the technique was simple enough to replicate. I looked up at him as he shook the drink with a wide grin and a quick wink before he poured it into the glass and added the final touches.

He picked it up and handed it to me, far too cocky and overconfident. “You want to just give me the money and save yourself the embarrassment?”

I took a sip of the drink, light and fruity with a decadent aroma. “Not a chance.”

Jake chuckled and moved around the bar, sitting in my vacated seat beside Sasha. I smiled at him, sliding my jacket off the shoulders, slow and deliberately timed. His eyes shamelessly rolled down my body, fixing on the tiger tattoo on my arm with a curious smirk. Isaac gave my shoulder a squeeze as he moved past with a quick and quiet, “Try not to embarrass him too bad.”

This was going to be fun.

***

Jake settled in his seat, fixing his attention on the new girl. His curiosity rolled around in him like an ever growing ball the more she spoke. Howard had hired her on the spot, something that happened, well, never, and judging by the way she confidently jumped into the fast paced position she knew what she was doing. Still, with all that restaurant knowledge she seemed to have, she was just as innocent and easy to win over as the other women before her. This was his turf and he certainly had an easy win in the bag.

He watched her slowly remove her jacket, knowing full well the play she was throwing out, but still he looked anyway. She was attractive, soft looking skin and big doe eyes, certainly the type he was used to drawing in for some fun. The tiger tattoo was a bit surprising, bold against her skin and large enough that it was certain to be seen. She gathered the same ingredients together, and then flashed him a smile, her eyes shifting from the slightly bored and innocent to confident and fierce in a blink.

As soon as she started to make the drink he was shocked. The way she moved was mesmerizing, everything deliberate and sensual, drawing everyone's attention and praise with complete ease. She was fast, hands moving through the steps with unfaltering grace and what she lacked in finesse she made up for in her charisma and flare. This was not her first time making a drink.

“I think this is what they call a hussle,” Scott observed with a laugh as he settled into the seat beside him. 

Sasha was overjoyed. “Oh I like this bitch more and more every minute!”

Once she began shaking the drink Jake couldn’t help but glance at the way her tits bounced beneath her deep cut T-shirt, and when he managed to tear his eyes away from them he was met with a wide grin and a playful wink. Fuck. He thought as an unfamiliar feeling washed over him. Sure he was impressed with her, but it was more than that… something that he hadn’t felt in a long time, a spark that could easily turn into a wildfire if he left it uncontrolled and that was something he absolutely refused to allow.

She slid the drink across the bar to him, leaning over to give him a generous view down her shirt. Jake silently took a drink, the sweetness of the cocktail washing over his tongue in an instant. Fucking… She held her hand out, batting her eyelashes as she waited. “I believe I’m owed a crisp fifty dollar bill.”

He fished it out of his jacket and shook his head with an amused scoff. “Where’d you learn how to do all that?”

With a modest shrug she folded the bill delicately as she replied, “I'm a woman of many talents.”

"And mysteries."

"Especially mysteries."She smiled again bright and mischievous, placing the money between her teeth as she pulled her jacket back on. 

God damn. “It’s hardly fair to hussle a coworker on your second day.”

“Yeah, or maybe you just need to be more careful about who you bet, Jerk.” He chuckled at her use of his own words against him.

“It’s Jake.”

She clicked her tongue and held his money in between her fingers. “Right. Sorry, it’s a tough name.” The audacity of this woman… He was impressed, infuriated as well but impressed. She turned to Isaac as he walked back out of the kitchen and waved the cash around. “Dinners on me tonight. Or, I guess, it’s on the master bartender.”

Isaac shook his head. “You gotta stop hustling people you delinquent.”

"If you're gonna be uptight about it I'll share  dinner with another delinquent."

Sasha's hand shot up. "Please, Tiger Bitch! I am a delinquent, take me in and let me suckle at your victorious teets!"

The new girl rolled her eyes but grabbed Sasha by the jacket and pulled him with her out the front door. Isaac hurried after them. "Wait, I take it back! Please buy me dinner!"

Jake looked down at the drink in front of him and scoffed. "Fuckin bitch."

Nicky laughed. "Never thought I'd see the day a woman kicked you down a peg. I think I'm starting to like the new girl."

"She certainly makes things interesting."

"Heading home?"

"Later," Jake said, downing the rest of the drink and standing. "I gotta brush up on my tiger taming."

Nicky shook his head as he began cleaning the bar up. "I hope she tears you up."

"Me too."

[cigarette-room]

So, uh, here's a distraction....

I've been thinking about making an angsty fic where it's post war landa/raine and they live together and there's a storm and Hans just wants Aldo to come inside, but Aldo is in his feels and missing Donny..... basically telling Hans that he's a sick s.o.b, y'know?

Oh I would love to hear more about this 10/10 idea it's literally so slay + toxic landaraine 🙏🙏🙏

[theyalldeserveddbetter]

Stargazing- One Shot

(Aldo Raine x daughter reader)

Summary:

Aldo and you can’t sleep. He takes you outside for a view of your home.

Warnings: Mentions of past child abuse and trauma, the war

(the fact that i reached the limit for tagging should be a warning 😂)

A/N: I wanted to try writing for a new fandom after recently becoming obsessed with Inglorious Basterds. If you haven’t seen the movie I highly suggest you go watch it!

Word Count: 880

You couldn’t sleep. The reason was stupid, really. You, daughter of the Aldo ‘The Apache’ Raine, were afraid of the dark. You had gone through thick and thin, fought your own wars, and yet, you were afraid of the dark.

You hated how it was like a cold blanket that choked you blindly. You hated how you were scared of such a small thing. What you absolutely hated the most about the dark was how it left you with your thoughts.

On nights you couldn’t sleep, all of your thoughts were left with you. Forcing you to think. To think back seven years and one day. All the way back to when your father and millions of other men first left to fight in the war.

He left you in the hands of your mother.

Your mother…

A mother’s job is to nurture and care for her child. To teach them right from wrong. To protect them and heal them.

That’s not what your mother did. No, she (for six years and one day) decided to inflict as much pain on a five year old as she could. That’s how old you were. Only five years old.

She beat you, tortured you cussed you out. Anything you could think of, she did. It was a miracle how you stayed alive for six years (and one day).

It was the letters. The letters were what kept you going.

Aldo tried his very best to keep in contact with you during the war. He would write letters to you. Telling you about all the best parts of his day and how much he missed you. On especially bloody days, when nothing good (that a child could read) happened, Aldo would ask about you, about back home, high in the Smoky Mountains, and about your mother. He was completely unaware of the torture that you were enduring from your mother. You were forced to keep it a secret.

I mean, if a father was receiving letters decorated in crayon and stickers he wouldn’t think anything was wrong.

It was in 1941 that the letters stopped coming. Aldo and his basterds couldn’t afford to write letters to home, afraid it would blow their cover.

As months went on, you knew letters wouldn’t come anymore and it crushed your tiny heart. The only thing that kept you going stopped. How would you survive now?

It came as quite a shock to Aldo when he found out about your mother. How could the woman that he married and bore his child do such a treacherous thing? Aldo wasted no time leaving your mother, telling her immediately to pack up her things and leave. Your mother didn’t have another home to go to but that wasn’t your father’s concern.

‘She’ll find a place,’ Aldo had said to you.

-

So now, another two years after the war, you lay awake in your bed. You sighed to yourself, thinking that it was going to be another all-nighter. That was, until you heard tapping at your door. You shot up, heart beating rapidly. Your heartbeat slowed down slightly as you saw the familiar outline of your father in the dark.

“Can’t sleep?” Your father asked quietly, being careful not to startle you. He already knew the answer. Truth was, he couldn’t sleep either.

“Yeah,” You mumbled, slightly embarrassed.

“Come with me,” Aldo started to walk down the hallway.

You scrambled out of bed and ran up to him.

“Where are we going?” You asked him, curious.

“Shh, you’ll see.” Your father hushed you.

Aldo lead you to the window of the guest bedroom. It was wide open. You peered outside. On the roof tiles, you spied a few mats.

“Go on, out cha’ go.” Your father ushered you.

“But wh-“

“No questions, you’ll see.”

You grumbled to yourself and started to climb out. You carefully walked to the mats, making sure not to fall off. You sat down, waiting for your father to follow you out. Once he did, he took his place next to you. He looked in front.

You looked at the sight and what a sight it was. In the dark, with a little help of the moonlight, you could just about make out the foggy treeline of the Smoky Mountains; the stars glittering in the clear sky.

Aldo wrapped an arm around you, holding you close to him.

“I like to come out ‘ere when I can’t sleep.” He told you.

“I can see why,” You breathed out, looking at the shining stars. You rested your head against your father.

A loud bang erupted through the trees. Aldo felt you flinch against him.

“Don’t you worry bout’ nothin’. It’s probably some good for nothin’ boys throwin’ firecrackers again.” He assured you.

You laughed at your father’s sudden change in tone.

“Weren’t you a good for nothing boy a long time ago?”

Aldo let out a loud laugh.

“You got me there Y/N,” He chuckled.

You sighed, feeling safe and wanted. You closed your eyes, focusing on your father’s breathing. He started to hum a quiet tune, knowing you were about to fall asleep.

Once he heard your breathing even out, Aldo leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“G’night Y/N. Sweet dreams.”

Taglist

@ssebstann @lozzypoz321 @hera-the-writer @emmasdrowned @stillmanicc @peachyprincessss

[fredrickzoller]

Six Sentence Sunday

And now for something completely different. So @canis-raine and I have this massive backstory for Aldo that explains his scar as well as his personal motivations for being leader of the Basterds. I’d really like to write it out someday, of course, lover of writing historical fiction that I am.  The story takes place over several years, with some jumps in between, but mainly when Aldo’s around 19-22, and features a couple of OC’s we developed, including his family (Mom, Dad, two younger sibs), and his two closest friends, Inola and Roy, who also end up being the Beta Version of the Basterds with him, as well as his first real romantic relationships. Most of it takes place in Knoxville, which isn’t terribly far from Maynardville, and it was really interesting (and painful) to research what went on during this time, the early ‘20′s, especially where the Klan was concerned.  But it makes for fascinating material for a story backdrop. Anyway, here’s a snippet from the opening I have planned, where Aldo and Inola meet for the first time.

Now, it ain't exactly wise to be spendin' nearly all he's got on ice cream, but he never claimed to be anything of the sort.  And, 'sides, it ain't like he's planning on doing this every time.  Like how Pa donates his money to the church – s'all for a good cause, and in this case, the cause is Aldo's sweet tooth. He'd get somethin' for the twins, but they're a little too young to be gnawin' on candy. Maybe in a year or two, when they're big enough to sit still for the whole ride, he'll take 'em here and they can pick out their own treats. He's cuttin' through a side alley that leads to the square when he gets this creepy itch along his bones, a twisting in his gut – he's being followed.  He tries to ignore it, tries to ignore Pa's voice in his head sayin' That's city folk  for ya,  but there ain't no ignoring his arm gettin' snagged, and all the rest of him being slammed up against the alley's wall. Aldo's instinct is to fight off the son-of-a-bitch who's pinned him, but his eyes widen when he sees, well, there ain't any less true way to describe his attacker.   Piercing brown eyes drill into him, belonging to a lady – no, a girl – that's taller than him, lookin' meaner than a polecat but 'bout a million times prettier.  Fact, it's the meanness that gets Aldo's blood racin', and he can't keep his mouth from hitching up in a smirk.

[velvet-waltz]

Stranger in Paradise: Chapter 6 - Angeles

Sylvia infiltrates the Warner Bros lot in an attempt to warn Bridget, Hans has some unwelcome company on a stakeout, and a second victim spurs Sylvia to make a long distance call. 

AO3

Wattpad

[theonetryingtolive]

No better love (that ever has loved me); Wilhelm Wicki x Reader

For @warmommy

A/N: Title from Hozier's 'Better Love'

"I'm alright," she says as she makes her way to the fire, attempting to sound like she is not, in fact, breaking down into tiny pieces of who she used to be. Once. "I'm ok, I'm ok. I'm ok. Perfectly ok." The problem is, she's never been that good a liar, not even when lying would have saved her from terrible things. She'd never been able to craft the perfect lie.

It's ironic now. Really, it is. Wicki had been sent out with Donny and she was left to her own devices, which meant just staring at the fire, sitting in between Stiglitz and Aldo. Staring and wondering if this was the time Wicki wouldn't make it back.

"What's a matter, kid?" Aldo asked her.

"Nothing. Just tired." Lies. But perhaps for the first time in her life, they seemed to work. Only...only right now she wished they hadn't. Aldo just shrugged and continued looking at the papers in his hands, and that was that.

Stiglitz had been kind to her, in his own way. He gave her an extra orange whenever he found one and he made a point of staying near whenever Wicki wasn't around, as if he knew his absence made her anxious.

And it did, make her anxious, that is. Wicki had been the one that found her, that stormy night in the tavern where the German was getting too handsy. At the time, Wicki had been using a German uniform and she'd been afraid of him. But when he took her outside, calmed her down and explained who he was...well, things changed.

She insisted he accompany her to her room in the hotel she was staying at. He'd looked at her and promised he would not hurt her. And she'd known. She'd just known that she had crossed the point of no return.

His hands were soft and his body strong and she'd never felt as safe as she had in that moment, with him holding her so tight in the early morning. He'd bid her goodbye with a heartbreaking kiss and she'd thought she would never see him again.

And she wouldn't have, if not for Hugo Stiglitz. She'd been drinking vodka straight from the bottle, curled up in bed when a tap on the window made her jump. She saw the German climbing into the room and she panicked, almost screamed for help but he had a hand on her mouth and told her to be quiet. She'd been terrified.

"Wicki needs you." That was all he said.

"Wilhelm?" She murmured, staring at Hugo as if in a trance.

"Ja." He retrieved a jacket from the dresser and threw it at her. "We're leaving."

And she'd gone. No note to anyone, no nothing. She had no one that cared and no place to call home. In retrospect, it had been completely insane to follow Stiglitz that night. But she'd never regretted it.

The fight between Hugo and Aldo had been enormous. Wicki had fallen ill, he had a fever and kept calling her name, which is why Hugo had ended up disappearing for two days looking for her. Aldo had started yelling as soon as he saw her, and Hugo had yelled right back.

"What do you want me to do?" Hugo had finally said, lowering his voice. "Take her back?"

Wicki had still been delirious, holding onto her like she was the very last bit of happiness the world had to offer.

"No." Aldo kicked at the dirt. "But if she betrays us, I expect you to shoot her."

"She won't." Hugo's words had been final.

And now, months later, she was nervously chewing her lip, holding Hugo's hand as she waited for Wicki to come back.

"He'll be alright," Aldo said, not looking up from the papers. "Damn bastard is always alright."

She looked at Hugo, they locked eyes and the German attempted a smile at her. "Wicki will be back soon."

So she sat and waited. And waited and waited until she fell asleep. Hugo was the one who laid her on her bedroll, she fought to stay awake. "Sleep, little bird, sleep." And she had.

The next morning she woke up to the feeling of someone holding her tight. She looked down at the hands on her waist, strong and with long fingers. She rolled over, smiled at Wicki's sleeping face and pressed a kiss to his lips. It was fine, he was home.

[risingtripletaurus]

risingtripletaurus' brad pitt fic recs

~~~

personal faves - 🗽

thats^^ more of a personal indicator for me <3 i love all these fics SO much

~~~

darling brad

bike rides and cigarettes by @hobisfavoritespritecan 🗽

see you later by @all-lit-up 🗽

what it would be like dating brad pitt by @all-lit-up

cliff booth

you're safe here by @tiredbeebo 🗽

dating cliff would include... by @fangirl-imagines

the stuntman and the singer by @companionjones

blueberries and cigarettes by @hobisfavoritespritecan

following all by @darling-i-read-it

sleep

scars 🗽

aldo "the apache" raine

thank you by @motelgirl 🗽

confident by @michelle-is-writing

distance by @mlmxreader 🗽

gift by @mlmxreader 🗽

worried fates by @darling-i-read-it 🗽

warm enough by @michelle-is-writing

following all by @sergeant-donny-donowitz

hey lover

goodnight 🗽

tristan ludlow

creek getaway by @darling-i-read-it 🗽

braided flowers by @darling-i-read-it

joe black

coffee pot by @darling-i-read-it 🗽

enchanted by @darling-i-read-it

[michelle-is-writing]

Warm Enough, Aldo Raine

Request: AH HI MICHELLE! im peeking into your inbox to submit a request for an aldo raine x reader fic please! so when the basterds are all relaxing around the fire or when they finally get a break aldo makes sure that the reader is comfortable and warm, and the others make fun of him for it, but the reader assures him she's happy? oh my days fluffy aldo >> !! I was so happy to do this one :)

Aldo Raine is usually a harsh leader, never afraid to lay down a strict set of rules for his soldiers. So, when a soldier asked if they could go to a bar tonight to “sniff out any possible nazis,” I was expecting Aldo to say no; especially since I know Aldo doesn’t like to take care of any drunks. However, to my surprise, he said yes. He hardly seem bothered by the idea, instead acting as if it were a great idea.

What shocked me even more was the fact that Aldo never said a word when the men all ordered a pint - in fact, the moment he did speak up was to order one for himself as well. I was quite happy to see Aldo let loose a little as he allowed himself to open up and share a few stories among the group. He’s always so strict around everyone that no one ever gets to see the carefree side of him that I adore. He smiles more, laughs more, and I love to see it.

Somehow, after a bit of time passes, Aldo and I end up lying against the back of the large but rugged brown booth currently seating most of the Basterds. His arm stays wrapped around me tightly, with one hand resting against my legs in his lap and the other gently holding my waist. Meanwhile, my head rests against his shoulder, nuzzled deep into his neck as the touch of his skin keeps my face warm. Unfortunately, it’s a bit chilly in this bar, and even though I’m wearing a coat, the cold still nips at my skin. Thankfully, I have my own personal heater right beside me.

“Darlin’, you comfortable?” Aldo asks, causing me to look up at him and nod with a smile. “You cold or anything?” He further asks, moving to make sure his large coat is wrapped around me as well. No matter what, he always makes sure I’m okay, even if I don’t say anything.

“No, actually, you’re keeping me warm,” I tell him before pushing myself further into his hold so I can nuzzle my face back into his neck. A small laugh falls from his lips at my comment, a few short seconds passing before his arms tighten and hold me even closer to him.

“Well, I can’t let you go cold, now can I?” Aldo asks, leaning down to connect his lips to mine in a soft, sensual kiss. I reach a hand up to cup his cheek, holding him where he is before moving in just a slight bit closer, but still remaining cautious of the many eyes around us. However, in spite of us being in the back, it doesn’t shield us from the whistling and teasing the guys throw at us.

“You lot, get a room!”

“Lieutenant, get it!”

“There are children here!”

Of course, Donny is to be credited for the last comment, his joke causing me to pull away and laugh. Embarrassed, Aldo stares at me for a moment, unsure of what to do. He’s never been one for public affection; in fact, this is probably the first time he’s ever gave me more than a peck in front of the men. That doesn’t mean he’s cold to me in front of them, but he’s a bit more reserved… a lot more reserved.

Giving him a small smile, I watch as Aldo visibly relaxes before fully snapping out of his trance and falling back into his leadership role. “If I’m not mistaken, aren’t you two supposed to be investigatin’ the second floor?” Aldo speaks up, before turning his head to another pair of lads. “And you two ‘ere supposed to ask the bartender about the area, right?���

At first, the men are slow in getting up before casually speeding off to their original missions, too scared to linger any longer in Aldo’s presence. Following them are the remaining soldiers, just as scared as they are. This leaves only Donny sitting at our table, sipping at his beer as he scans through the city’s newspaper, unperturbed by Aldo’s words. Donny doesn’t care; he talks just as much shit as Aldo does, after all.

Leaning back down to face me once again, Aldo smiles, his whole body becoming relaxed once more as his focus shifts back onto us. “Babydoll, you look so cute right now.”

Aldo’s comment makes me furrow my eyebrows at him, a little confused. “And why is that?” I ask, making him smile.

Leaning closer, Aldo gently brushes his nose against mine, letting out a small ‘hmph’ as he does so. “Yer’ nose and cheeks are pink from the cold,” he points out, sneaking a hand around my thigh while avoiding other people’s views. “but that’s okay, I don’t mind warming you up, darlin’.”

Immediately, my cheeks feel as if they’re on fire and I have to close my eyes to look away from Aldo’s lust-filled gaze. With just a few words and small touches, Aldo has me under some spell of his and I’m left to enjoy the attention he gives. Aldo is always kind and loving to me, but if he’s drinking, his affection is turned up to a whole new level.

Just before Aldo begins to nip at my neck, Donny speaks up again. “I’m still here, you nymphos.”

At his comment, I scoff. “How am I a nympho?” I ask, simply astounded.

“No, no, he’s right,” Aldo states, bringing his face back up to mine. He has a shadow of a smirk that only I can see, and it almost makes me worried about his next words. “Let’s go to the bathroom where we won’t bother anyone, yeah?”

Quickly processing his words, my face feels as if it’s on fire and I hide against him. On the other hand, Donny lets out a small “dear God” followed by a sigh. He has definitely had enough to drink, and even if there were any enemies here, Donny would have to take over the situation as Aldo simply cannot.

“I think we need to head back to camp,” I murmur to Aldo, making him chuckle. “You’re a bit… tipsy.”

“Honey, I’m more than just a bit tipsy,” he corrects me, “but I agree, we need to head back. Donny,” he states, looking over to his friend, “you take over from here.”

Donny simply nods at his request, sending us away with a small wave. With that, Aldo and I head out of the bar and in the direction of our campsite, the walk taking around fifteen minutes with plenty of twists and turns in order to find the secluded part of the woods we call home right now. Throughout the entire walk, Aldo keeps his arm around me, ready to defend me against anything that came our way. Even when under the influence, Aldo still maintains his protector position, and unfortunately, he maintains his leader role too, but those aren’t the best roles for him when he’s drunk.

After apologizing for Aldo’s harsh, yet slurred words to the men who stayed at the campsite on watch, I guide Aldo to our shared tent and change out of my clothes. Immediately, Aldo gets distracted by this, but it only encourages him to hurry up and change out of his civilian clothes as well. Climbing under our covers on the makeshift blanket mattress, we both cling to each other for warmth, albeit with Aldo emitting a bit more heat than usual with the help of the alcohol. It almost knocks me out as I’m already exhausted, but Aldo’s incessant kisses against the top of my head keep me awake.

“I’m so thankful for you, honey,” Aldo whispers, making me smile. “I’m so glad I have you here with me, helping us, helping me save people's lives,” He adds, leaning over to press a kiss to my cheek. “Just like the same way you saved mine.”

His drunken confession brings tears to my eyes, not being able to stop them as they fall from the corners of my eyes. Aldo holds me closer to him in response to my sudden mood change, his arms still gentle and comforting as he does so. His words bring an ache to my heart while also bringing a warmth I’ve never felt before. To no one’s surprise, Aldo doesn’t open up much and he has to really know or love you to reveal even the slightest bit about himself. I know so much about Aldo, but I never knew he felt like that.

Turning over in his arms, I gaze up at his face before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He kisses me back gently, almost hesitantly, but it’s less sloppy than the kisses he pressed to my head. Our kiss continues until Aldo pulls away and rests his head on his pillow, looking at me through his blue eyes that show so much, and yet, still hold so much back. “Among all the things I’ve seen an’ been through, you, babydoll, are the best to come out of it,” he admits, his southern voice slow and peaceful. “I just wish you could see yourself through my eyes… but honey,” Aldo then clasps my hand in his, his fingers finding their way between mine. “One day, when this war is over, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you for havin’ to deal with me and my men, an’ that I tell you is a promise.”

[mlmxreader]

Heat | Aldo Raine x m!reader

@satan-incarnate-666 asked: PROMPT STORM INCOMING

"You're terrible!" "You love me, though" - aldo raine x m!reader

summary: Aldo insists that the Basterds take a break, which happens to give you and him a chance to talk.

tws: swearing

Aldo had decided that the Basterds ought to stop, as the sunshine and the heat was getting to be too much for everyone, and while Omar was in charge of carrying everyone's shirts and jackets - someone had to - you and Aldo searched for somewhere to stop for a moment or two; there was an abandoned house nearby. It had been bombed to shit, destroyed by Blitzkrieg, but at least it was shady there.

Aldo ordered everyone to get in the shade, to sit down, to lie down, whatever, just take a load off for a while; he was covered in sweat when he climbed up the broken bits of the house to get to your little spot. You guessed it was once a bedroom, wooden floors and a burned and charred wardrobe, and although half of it had been blown open and shattered, it was at least shady; although it was still too warm as you laid on your back and covered your eyes with your arm, able to feel the hairs tickle your eyelids as you opened your mouth to breathe.

You grabbed his hat, and used it to replace your arm as you grumbled. "Remind me again why we don't have any ice."

"It'd melt," he shrugged, sitting down with his legs dangled over the edge of the broken floor. If he leaned over, he could see the other Basterds below. "Y'know, this heat got me thinkin'-"

"No." You muttered. "Whatever you're thinking, no."

Aldo smiled a little, tilting his head to the side. "I didn't even finish."

"I don't care," you chuckled, shaking your head. "Whatever it was, it was probably either stupid or vile."

"What makes you say that?" He laughed.

"The fact that you're terrible!"

"You love me, though," he pointed out. "I might be terrible, but you love me."

You huffed, searching for his hand and grabbing it, bringing it to your chest and drawing little patterns on his skin. "Against my better judgement, sure."

Aldo hummed quietly, gently tapping your chest as he dared to close his eyes and smile. If there was one thing that the heat could do better than anything, it was put everyone to sleep. "We'll start moving again when the sun goes down... it won't be so bad, then."

"You say that, but it probably will," you let out a harsh and long yawn. "At least the guys are gonna get some rest, though... fuck knows they deserve it."

He nodded, his breathing starting to slow down a little as he relaxed more, getting closer and closer to falling asleep. "I think we all do... y'know, back home, days like this... just spend 'em in bed til the night comes."

You nodded, moving to lie on your stomach, moving up a little more so that you could rest your head on his lap, a harsh sigh coming from the back of your throat. "We'd just sit around and bitch and moan about it... different now, though... bigger things to worry about."

Aldo kept one hand between your shoulders, putting the other behind his head as he yawned quietly. "Y'know, Sergeant (y/l/n)... not much has changed."

You slapped his thigh gently, groaning as you rolled your eyes. "Don't be a dick."

"You do!" He defended with a chuckle. "You're my boyfriend, and I love you, but you still complain about the weather."

You grumbled, cuddling into him a little more, a soft groan of content drawn out when he put his hand a little lower, drawing and doodling little patterns across your sweat soaked skin. "You're so fucking annoying."

"Again," Aldo repeated, "you love me."

"Yeah, I know," you huffed. "Doesn't mean you're not annoying, though."

"I can be more annoying," he mused.

"Please don't."

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - do not just leave a "like", REBLOG IT. you may also leave feedback in the form of asks, tags, etc which is greatly appreciated, but you SHOULD reblog it regardless.

[one-boring-person]

Go read this Hans Landa x Aldo Raine fic by @ratty9boy ! It's really worth the read, I promise! 👍😁

[ratty9boy]

❤️❤️❤️❤️

[FIC] Whistle out to no one

Aldo debates with his own mind - hold him or push him away. What's left of the good man in him remembers the woods of 1944, remembers how much comfort another human's warmth provided to a dying friend.

But the justice in him rages, laughs at his face bitterly; this is not your friend, he doesn't deserve to be held. He doesn't deserve comfort-

The good man wins, as always.

Read "Whistle out to no one" on AO3!

[darling-i-read-it]

Writing Prompts

If you request with these please specify which list!

Unless otherwise stated these aren’t my lists!

These are all 200-300 word responses to the person you request with the prompt you request and not a full Fic

50 Types Of Kisses

[14,15,24] Cliff Booth

[42, 45, 50] Michael Corleone

[9, 24, 27, 28] Michael Corleone

[27, 28] Jack Thompson

[3, 12] Steve Harrington

[2] Indiana Jones

[2] Catcher Block

[2] Han Solo

[3] Cliff Booth

[4] Catcher Block

[4] Benoit Blanc

[4] Leon Kennedy

[5] Billy Hargrove

[5] Stephen Strange

[5] Henry Hill

[7] JD (Heathers)

[7] Indiana Jones

[7] Will Graham

[11] Tristan Ludlow

[12] Patrick McKenna

[12] Will Graham

[12] Hannibal Lecter

[14] Mark Renton

[14] Will Graham

[14] Billy Hargrove

[15] Han Solo

[15] Will Graham

[15] Legolas (LotR)

[15] Van Helsing!Dracula

[17] Luke Castellan

[17] Will Graham

[19] Aldo Raine

[19] Will Graham

[19] Prince Nuada

[22] James Bond

[22] Jack Sparrow

[22] Atticus Finch

[22] Billy Hargrove

[22] Achilles

[22] Sonny (A Bronx Tale)

[24] Sherlock Holmes

[24] JD (Heathers)

[25] Bruce Wayne

[27] Patrick McKenna

[27] Cliff Booth

[28] Rick O’Connell

[28] Jaskier

[29] Luke Skywalker

[31] George Weasley

[32] Theseus Scamander

[33] Will Graham

[33] Homelander

[37] Don ‘Wardaddy’ Collier

[39] Thranduil

[42] Percy Jackson

[43] Herbert West

[45] Will Graham

[45] Takeshi Kovacs

[46] Hannibal Lecter

[48] Thranduil

[50] Christian (Moulin Rouge)

[50] Tyler Durden

[50] Thranduil

[50] Gerry Lane

50 Winter Writing Prompts

[31,43] Will Graham

[16] Will Graham

[23] Ransom Drysdale

[41] Thranduil

[jiejie-eonni-onee-sama]

Hiii can I request an inglorious basterds fic , aldo raine x female reader going to a small cafe as a date but the basterds keep spying on them lots of aldo being romantic and fluff also the basterds teasing aldo

Hello sweetie!

Your request is ready!

https://jiejie-eonni-onee-sama.tumblr.com/post/662346076773285888/amour-%C3%A0-la-fran%C3%A7aise

Hope you'll enjoy it!!

[velvet-waltz]

Chapter 26: The Projectionist

Just posted at ao3 and wattpad!

Holy shit have I been looking forward to these scenes!!!! Enjoy!!

[jake-marshall]

“Business is Booming” is now live!

Ready to kick off 2021 with my first long-fic in a quite some time: An Inglourious Basterds Retail AU!  This has been a project @cake-flavored-finch have had our minds set on for several months now, and I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished so far - here’s to hoping I can stay on task and complete it, but, well, we shall see!   Updates tenatively scheduled to take place every other Saturday. >>Read Chapter 1 of Business is Booming here!<< Summary:  Smithson Utivich is more than happy with his job at Fluff-a-Friend, but a series of events pits Smitty and his fellow mall employees against the scheming management of the Fenech Mall's most successful tenant: the upscale department store, Landstrom's. Pairings: Smithson Utivich/Omar Ulmer, Hans Landa/Dieter Hellstrom, Aldo Raine/Donny Donowitz, Archie Hicox/Bridget von Hammersmark, Fredrick Zoller/Shosanna Dreyfus,  Smithson Utivich & Aldo Raine (platonic), Smithson Utivich & Hugo Stiglitz (platonic,  Past mentions of Hans Landa/Bridget von Hammersmark, and past mentions of another ship that will remain secret for now because ~plot spoiler reasons~ Notes: Please read the tags and the additional author’s notes before proceeding (especially if you have Strong Opinions one way or another on Fredrick Zoller)! This fic will alternate between Utivich’s and Hellstrom’s POVs, though favoring Utivich’s more (estimate about 2/3rds of the fic is currently planned to be his POV).