#also to the one person this was written for: yes this is mostly the found family competition entries

[answrs]

Surveyfamily Cyllene Propaganda

look at that face. that hardened stare of the woman doling out orders and basically running the whole village by proxy and probably totally a kickass swordswoman.

then there's this kiddo that came with them to the village as a refugee-war-orphan. TELL me this woman doesn't try to avoid them entirely and treat them like any other adult (he's not an adult he's a child!) under her command and accidentally adopts them in the process. AND THEN! A N O T H E R ONE FALLS FROM THE SKY!

she gives them a task designed to fail, her commander is suspicious as anything about this kid, but she gives them new clothes (because WHAT are they WEARING!?) and the little thing comes back not just victorious but also it turns out they had immediately packbonded with her Totally-Not-Kid. so uh... whoops there's two of them now. she never expected to be a parent! how does she even handle that! what does she say!?

"Your orders are not to die" yeah that totally works. she's nailed it.

[misfortunegirl]

anyone who is inlove with me 👉👈

[keisobe]

── ౨ৎ ‧˚ 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 (𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧)

・⸝⸝ some hobie brown headcanons where you’re the complete opposite of him + not completely proofread

notes. this was inspired by the anon who requested for “polar opposites” (i’m still working on that request TT). i’m a sucker for couples with different aesthetics because it reminds me of hachi and nana hshshddh ♡

you guys share an apartment together, and the contrast between your guy’s decor can be laughable. hobie has crumbled newspaper cutouts and band posters sprawled all over his walls— graffiti to roughen it up even more. while you had a dainty wallpaper with printed flowers, topped with assortments of neatly lined photos of you and hobie taken during your dates.

that’s why the living room in your apartment is completely bare. except for some framed photos of more cute memories and the dried flowers that hobie (stole) bought you on your first date. mostly, the trinkets you both own are scattered around the apartment.

hobie would be pouring cereal into a pink, bunny ceramic bowl. while you drink raspberry tea in a ridged mauve mug with the words ‘fuck capitalism’ written in hobie’s scratchy handwriting. and yes, you did take hobie to a pottery class as a cool date idea (he thought it was a cute idea too).

hobie always wears a copious amount of studded leather belts but also, your plush keychain(s) securely clipped onto his belt loops. hobie loves to show them off whenever he’s out with his bandmates— “ain’t it a lil’ cute? ‘s even got a lil’ blush on ‘s cheeks.” and that doesn’t limit him during his nightly patrols, he would get a few insults about having a ‘stupid toy’ on his belt, to which he would punch the daylights out of them and trap them in a thick layer of web.

you also proudly accessorize your bags with hobie’s handmade keychains. your favorite was a little replica of his guitar and a pink star that “represents you”. but because they are personally made, he would leave song lyrics and flirty comments written in the back of each keychain— marking the date when he gifted it to you.

going shopping with hobie was also lots of fun. there was a nearby boutique that you always shop at; selling exclusively skirts and dresses adorned with frills and bows, and hair accessories that are covered in pearls and ribbon (he honestly sticks out like a sore thumb but he couldn’t care less). hobie helps you pick out stuff, taking clothes off the rack and asking you to try it on. he compliments you every time you show off, giving you a little twirl and whispering a suggestive comment that makes you slap his chest. if you decide that you weren’t particularly fond of the outfit, hobie would go out of his way to put away said clothes back into its rack whilst having a good chat with the shop owners (they love him to bits).

one time, you decided it would be fun to wear some of his stuff. putting on a studded leather choker he left on his bedside table, you walked out with your chin held high and a grin so big. immediately, hobie felt like he combusted five times and went over to graze a hand over your leathered neck— “you’re an absolute looka’ babe.”

whenever you guys are out, he would always keep an eye out for your skirt. not in a weird way, but to make sure it doesn’t show private bits that would entertain creeps that would pass by. that’s why he would subconsciously linger his hand on your hips and he would always let you sit in the subway train, amusingly eyeing down at you drawing whilst he holds onto the upper railing— guarding you with his solid frame.

you’re a real sucker for british dating shows. it wasn’t like you believed in them, but found them heavily entertaining. hobie had always been fond of the things you like, even though they completely contrasted his personal aesthetic and interest. but he cannot, for the life of him, agree with dating shows. as you snuggled into him and share a fluffy blanket— watching the latest season of said dating show, he would cackle as he gives snarky comments at every moment and heavily criticize the whole concept of “making yourself look li’ a knob on the telly” (you sent him to his room afterwards, he apologized the morning after).

MOCHIFILM © 2023. please do not copy, translate, or modify any of my work. all of my works are not permitted to be posted on any other sites.

[alpaca-clouds]

Let me talk about Mizrak

Yeah, this with all the entire Nocturne brainrot is going to continue for a couple more days at least. But the show has so many interesting themes and characters and I just love it so much. And after getting all my friends to watch the show, I got surprised by one of them being super angry about Mizrak.

Why? Well, because of the last scene with him and Olrox in the season and his words of: "You are just an animal that lost its soul centuries ago." And the friend considered that "being an asshole" and "cruel".

To which I say: Cruel? Yes. Asshole? No.

Let me explain.

First, let me make one thing clear: No, Mizrak is not a templar. I have seen that one too many times. He is not a templar. He is a monk knight of the order of St. John, so the Knights Hospitaller. Like the templars they were very much tied to the crusades originally, but they are not the same thing. There were a lot of orders and types of knights associated with the crusades. Templars were just one of them. (Do you guys wanna hear more about the templars? I can talk more about them.)

We know from bits and pieces of dialogue that Mizrak originates in Jerusalem (which is also where the order was founded). This is a gentle reminder: Israel as we know it today was not a thing back then. But Jerusalem was always a place of religious conflict as it holds importance in all three Abrahamic religions. Which was, what the crusades were all about after all. Before the time of the French Revolution, though, there was mostly some a conflict between the Ottomans and some Arab forces over Palestine. There were some Christian orders accepted within the city though.

Now, the Knights Hospitaller, who were accepted in Jerusalem, had a strong connection to France. Which... lead to problems, when some of the Arabs and the French got into problems. Which let to the Knights Hospitaller leaving for Malta. This too is referenced in the dialogue. (If you guys cannot tell: I am very happy with the amount of historical research put into this show!)

Mizrak looks to be in his early 30s. So I assume he entered the order in his mid-teens (which was a usual age to enter an order like that) and then probably left for Malta within a couple of years after that when the political situation got more charged. And then from Malta to France.

The Knights Hospitaller back then for all intent and purposes lived as militarized monks. That means they made vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. And this very much shines through with his character in so many scenes.

Of course we see that the entire "chastity" thing does not work out that well for him. But that is also why he clearly is shown to be conflicted about that entire thing. What he tries to uphold, though, is the obedience aspect of his vows. And that is, what his entire conflict is about.

See, what I love about this character is that there is all this delicious conflict.

I will iterate again: I grew up in a very, very conservative, strict, catholic household. Other kids got read fairytales for bedtime. My mother read me the bible. Priests and monks were people we intermingled with a lot. (Heck, the last pope? I met him when he was still a bishop.) And hence I got to make one very clear experience: There are three types of Catholics: Those, who focus on all the horrible things. Those, who focus on the literal stuff written in the bible. And those, who focus on the positive stuff. You know, the stuff with helping people, and being poor, and sharing, and being in general a good person. (Though the three types are not always mutually exclusive.)

And it is pretty clear that Mizrak is of the latter kind. He believes in the good he can do through his faith in God and Christ. But he has also grown up in an Order and a Church that puts a lot of focus on the idea of sin, on the idea of obedience, and the idea of the "natural order".

But there he is, with his Abbot collaborating with demons and vampires to enforce that "natural order", which among other things goes against their own vow of poverty. This is so clearly against Mizrak's believes. Because in his very core, Mizrak is a good fucking man. He is one of the good guys. Who wants to do good through his faith in God. And this conflicts for him.

So by the end of episode 7 he reached the point to go against his vow of obedience, because his faith in doing good was stronger, than his dedication to his vows. He very actively broke his vows in the eyes of his order, standing against his order, to protect those darn kids. Because it was the right thing to do. He is absolutely willing to do the noble sacrifice if that is what it takes to save those kids. And in comes that weird dude and takes this chance from him.

And his entire thing with Olrox... It seems very much that Mizrak is indeed gay. As the series so helpfully points out: Yeah, priests, monks, other clergy, and their vows of chastity were always a thing that rarely worked out. Again, as someone who grew up with close ties to the church: The fact that everyone is secretly fucking is... well known. As well as the fact that yeah, there are a lot of gay clergy. Mostly for the reason that they are shamed for their sexuality and then take the vows to not be tempted into homosexuality. Only to find that a priest school with a lot of other queer supressed men is exactly the place you do not want to be to not be tempted. (And that is all without going into all the non-con, pedophilia and what not. Things that were also already happening back then, I guarantee you.)

So, try to imagine that entire thing from Mizrak's perspective. There he is, already ashamed and suppressed about all of that and in comes this very, very seductive vampire man, who kinda seems to align with some of his values, but not with others. And who is emotionally unavailable as fuck, outright telling him that he does not love our dear Mizrak. Someone, who clearly is not for the vampires and your abbot, but also clearly not willing to take the other side. The side that you in your heart (even though it means standing against your order) know to be right. And this man, who claims to not love you, then comes in and tries to stop you from doing what is right.

Yeah, no fuck, Mizrak is a bit pissed at him. Especially as in that moment Olrox very clearly goes against Mizrak's ideals, that are all about self-sacrificially doing the right thing.

And I do think that Mizrak is right in one regard: Olrox lost his soul. He lost a part of himself. Through the trauma of colonialism, but he lost it never the less.

So, once more: Thanks the team for giving us another interesting, well-rounded religious character! CV already did so well with Isaac and Mizrak is sofar extremely promising in that regard.

[adventuringblind]

i’m a sucker for anything with protective charles, i feel like he would always be looking out for his gf or wife…ugh just the thought? 🫣

Car Crash and a Ferrari Mishap

Charles Leclerc x Driver!reader

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

Request: yes and I am also a sucker for this.

Summary: even though Charles knows she drives one of the fastest cars in the world, he can’t help but worry.

Warnings: car crash, injury descriptions, protective Charles, ferrari race engineers not doing their job

Notes: written in third person

Masterlist

It had become a typical thing for Charles to worry. He worried more than people thought he did. His lover, however, knee everything about it because he was mainly worrying about her.

He'd lost so many people in his life already. He struggled with separation anxiety and would panic every time she got sick.

It didn't matter that she's a driver for Ferrari. It didn't matter that she's one of the most talented athletes. He worried about her.

Their relationship was public. Mostly because Lando struggles to keep things tight-lipped. It was a great thing, though, as their team had found. Marketing and content wise, they did some things together that everyone adored.

Working in a male dominated field meant dealing with uncomfortable questions. Ones that.nade Charles' skin crawl. He didn't hesitate to jump in and answer them himself. Sometimes, he and Max would use as a way to banter with each other, effectively angering the reporter or journalist.

Races were always terrifying before he got in the car. He made sure that he saw her before every race and kissed her good luck. Reminding her not to be reckless.

This race happened to be ridiculously hot. It felt like he would melt to the floor every time he stepped into the sun.

He found her before the walked to the grid. "Mon amour, are you sure you can race like this?"

She'd already been feeling faint. She hadn't told Charles, but the team had been controlling her water and food intake. They wanted her weight exact, and she had been over that a few days ago.

He could tell she wasn't feeling well. He always knew when someway off. Regardless, she just smiled at him and kissed his cheek.

It took a few laps before she tried for water. Dissapintment flooding her veins as she got nothing.

"Is the water system not working?"

"Negative, keep pushing."

She sighs in frustration but keeps going. Pushing her hardest.

She was almost there. Fifteen laps left. Her mouth terribly dry. Her mind shut down more with each lap. She needed to finish.

She'd stopped sweating. Her body lacks the required liquids to do so. Everything seemed to move in slow motion.

Then everything went dark.

~

"Red flag Charles, red flag." Xavi announces from the radio.

Charles slows down the car. Hot and tired. He was excited to finish the race, and now he'd have to wait longer.

He pulls into the pits. He was expecting to see her there already. As far as he was aware, she was ahead of him.

He climbs out of the car, immediately asking about her. Nobody could give him a straight answer.

Five minutes and still nothing. Then the replay of the crash came on the screen.

Her body going limp in the car. Her foot is still accelerating down one of the straights. She hits the corner, and the car is spinning. Then nothing.

It looked bad. He knew it was bad. Words of frantic French and Italian leave his lips.

It takes Pierre, Max, and Lando holding him back to keep him in the pits. He was screaming at the race engineers. Asking how that could have happened.

He's kicking and screaming like a child as the boys drag him back to his room. His performance coach tried to get him to slow his breathing. Still fresh off the adrenaline from driving.

"I don't understand." He sobbed.

"She didn't have water." Andrea confesses.

Charles pauses. His brain fitting together all the peices. "Have they been trying to get her to lose weight?"

"Yes, which is odd, I was talking to her coach, who said she was already under what she deemed the lowest weight that was still healthy."

Oh, Charles was furious. It made sense now. Why she'd been so exhausted this past week.

He stormed out of the room. Angry words be yelled at every engineer.

Pierre was translating to the boys who don't know French. All of them also getting angry.

"I retire the car." Charles states. Grabbing his helmet and running out to the crash site.

They still hadn't gotten her out. The front of the car has been smashed in. They had cut the halo off, but her body was jammed at a weird angle. A stray peice of metal had found its way into her arm. Her neck already looked bruised.

Charles was a wreck at this point.

The Marshall's used him as a navigator. He was able to get into the cockpit and move things around. It felt like forever until he was riding with her to the medical center.

He pulled her helmet and balaclava off gently. The white fabric dotted with specks of red.

He held her hand and sobbed the entire ride.

~

He wasn't doing much better when people came by after the race.

He was teary-eyed and nauseous. The nurses kept refilling his water. It felt horribly ironic.

He knew he disappointed his fans. They wanted to see him race, and here he was. Crying over his lover in the hospital.

He just needed to see her.

Sebastian came to see him first. Though he was followed by the one person he really didn’t want to see. Seb and Mattia were talking in hushed voices. Seb looked two seconds away from punching him.

“I don’t want to see you.” Charles announced to his team principle.

“I came to see if she’s okay.”

Charles was going to unleash his anger on the Ferrari principal, but the doctor calling her name interrupted him.

“How is she.” Charles voice was definitely more panicked then he would’ve liked but it was to much effort to hide it and there were no cameras here anyways.

“The bones in her calves are crushed. The cut in her arm has been stitched up but we might need to open it up again to check for any missed metallic bits. Just to air on the side on caution and avoid any infections. She has a severe concussion and is severely dehydrated.” The doctor attempts to explain to him, but Charles is trying to stop himself from panicking. “For what it’s worth, it could have been much worse.”

Charles is brought back to earth by Sebs hand in his shoulder. “You should go see her.” His former teammate nods him along.

~

Charles sits on the uncomfortable plastic chair. His mind wanting to stay awake but his body giving out.

She looked so peaceful sleeping. Her chest rising and falling in even motions.

He almost missed her eyes fluttering open and her hand squeezing his. Charles was standing in a second, trying to stop her from moving to much.

She was panicking. Her heart rate increasing dramatically. Charles sat himself in the edge of her bed. His hand running across her hair.

"The race. Oh god- I'm so sorry."

"No, don't think about that. Just rest." Whoever told her to push so hard without water should be fired.

"Did you win?"

"No, but I don't care. I care that you're awake a safe."

She hums at him. The feeling of his hands bringing a calm sensation back.

"Charles, it hurts."

"I'll go grab a doctor. Don't try to move."

He's out of the room in a flash. Only coming back when he has a nurse in tow.

They up the pain meds and bring her some water. The IV fluids are already helping, but her mouth is so dry that she needs to drink it.

Charles is attentive. He barely leaves her side unless it's absolutely neccecary.

~

[generalsmemories]

Ginkgo leaves

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ based on the ask: Since reqs are open, you think you could write jing yuans reaction to his lover being Mara-struck? Thank you! - requested by anonymous

✧ contents: established relationship, angst, hurt/almost no comfort lmfao, implied character death, mentions of other characters, pov mostly written in jing yuan's pov, still usage of 2nd pov (referring the reader as you), mayhaps ooc because jing yuan is an emotional wreck.

✧ a/n: when i tell ya'll i legit struggled to be able to write this entire thing. there's been like 3-4 scrapped drafts because halfway through writing i would just NOT be satisfied with the result. to the anon who requested this, i'm so sorry it took this long - but i hope the upcoming trainwreck makes up for it! a trainwreck im still not actually satisfied with LMFAO. but it's better than the other 5 scrapped works. also not beta-read so fellas if u see a spelling error - no you didn't.

p.s: some mara-struck information i give here are totally fanmade for the purpose of this fic alone, as such don't take whatever i write about mara here as what actually happens canonically to characters (then again most of the playable characters have different symptoms of mara themselves).

"Benefactor, am I correct to believe you're asking me if the general has any specific interests?" Tingyun asks with a snicker, the trailblazer looking away from her prying eyes while mumbling a quiet yes.

"Some of the younger... Can I call them younger? Anyway, some of the younger Xianzhou citizens are very infatuated with the general. Seeing as I've been announced as his honory guest, they do often come and ask me various things to try and gain his favor. So yeah, anything at this point will work - so please!" the trailblazer hurriedly explained, clasping their hands together in a desperate attempt to get anything from the foxian amicassador leaning back with a quirked eyebrow.

"Ahh, love truly makes someone go blind doesn't it," she muses out loud, the trailblazers' eyebrow furrowing together in confusion over the foxian's lady choice of words, "... You're not entirerely wrong with that statement..."

"Do you want to know what his favorite flower is?" Tingyun asks, ignoring the confused question that had been uttered to her, snapping her fan open to hide the cheeky smile that spread across her lips - but anyone could still tell that her eyes were gleaming with mischief as the trailblazer nodded their head.

"He doesn't have one."

"Then why did you even-"

"But he likes ginkgo leaves."

The trailblazers' eyes widened in shock, and rightfully so because the very thing ginkgo leaves are associated with are after all...

"He had a lover once, and as far as I'm aware, his last moment with them while they still had their consciousness intact was surrounded by ginkgo leaves."

Jing Yuan whilst having forgotten almost every single moment with you, does unfortunately remember the exact details of the day that your descent into madness started. Because what he witnessed wasn't a futile struggle you had with yourself to not to destroy everything within your vicinity. Instead, he witnessed the slow process of your bright self becoming an empty shell, only capable of uttering a few words.

It's comical really, even when faced with a curse that struck everyone mad - he found out that it oddly fit your character to not go mad, but instead become the complete opposite of your gentle self. A hollow shell of the person he fell in love with all centuries ago.

Jing Yuan knew he had to end your suffering right then and there when you first started to show signs.

But he couldn't - This wasn't something that had to be immediately dealt with, his hand wasn't forced like it was back when he had to slay his own master down before she took more lives.

No, this was a normal afternoon on what would've been another normal, mundane day in both of your lives. But everything went wrong the moment Jing Yuan heard the breaking of glass, and how there was a lone gingko leaf inside the palm of your hand - a ginkgo leaf that you were staring wide-eyed at with a trembling hand.

You were too far from the veranda to have a ginkgo leaf in your hand.

General Jing Yuan would've ended your suffering the moment you turned around to lock eyes with him, your own face twisted into one of utter fear.

General Jing Yuan would've reported you the to Ten-Lords Commissions as the law had stated. But Jing Yuan couldn't - because Jing Yuan knew that the moment he did, he would never see you again.

So he decided for once he would be selfish. Jing Yuan rarely made choices lately that was based off of his own feelings, but his time with you was cut too harshly, so once again he chooses to be selfish. Even if that meant that it would prolong your suffering just a tiny bit more. "... We can figure something out," was the only thing he could muster up the courage to say with a shaking voice. You didn't say anything, your mouth wobbling a tiny bit and your breathing getting harsher by the second.

But still you indulged him - you always did. So with an equally wobbly smile, you only nodded your head slightly, "... Sure."

That wobbly smile and expression of utter fear was the last genuine expression that truly came from yourself.

The descent to becoming fully mara-struck is usually a fast process, the curse able to completely overtake someone's mind within the same day the symptoms appears - rendering the person completely vulnerable with the only alternative to either hand themselves in to the Ten-Lords or wait for the Ten-Lords to come to them personally.

Your usual easy-going smile was gone, in its stead was eyes that kept going in and out of focus. Almost as if you were desperately trying to keep yourself grounded - a battle you both knew would end with your defeat.

Jing Yuan didn't dare to venture outside of the house. One step out and every Cloud Knight would've been on you within seconds to subdue you. He had first initially resorted to just holding you within his arms for as long as he could, to be able to remember how you felt like after your death.

But with the minimal strength you had left, you had wobbled to the garden, every step taken only making you pant heavily. But even with heavy breaths of air leaving your lips, you had refused to take Jing Yuans hand or offer to even carry you out to the garden. When you had managed to reach the ginkgo tree standing tall at the center of the garden, Jing Yuan was sure you were going to collapse in front of it, taking a quick step to catch you.

But instead you had merely reached your hands up, the falling leaves fluttering gently down onto your palms. And while you were in indescriable pain for the last couple of hours - Jing Yuan could only see a serene expression when you looked up at the ginkgo leaves that were continously falling down.

"... They're beautiful... aren't they... Jing Yuan? It's almost a pity... that these beautiful... leaves are associated with our doom," you said softly. Jing Yuan could feel his breath hitch in his throat when you uttered his name.

You're obviously struggling to convey whatever thoughts you still had to him properly, taking a moment in between words to catch your breath, eyebrows furrowed slightly as you fought against the searing pain that was spreading through every nerve in your body.

There's a sudden gust of wind which causes the pile of leaves in your hands to flutter away from your grasp. Your hand stretches out slightly, almost in an attempt to reach out for them - stumbling a bit in your step. The limp causes Jing Yuan to take a quick step forward with his arms outstretched. Perhaps seeing him in your peripheral vision causes you to stop the futile attempt to catch the escaping leaves, arms going limp against your side as you turn to face him - your once blank expression turning into a somber smile instead.

Jing Yuan thinks that it's unfair how normal you look in front of him - almost as if you haven't been becme mara-struck. Like nothing has happened to you aside from the ginkgo leaves fluttering from your lips whenever you cough. The same cough that causes the general of Luofu to flinch every time - without fail.

And perhaps you can see his inner turmoil, the way he tries to make eye contact with you, but is unable to after a few seconds. The way his hands clench too hard into fist to the point droplets of blood fall down to the grass and stains it a deep red while he bites his own lips to not say a word - lest he says something that he will regret.

And you truly wish that you could tell him everything is okay like you usually do.

But for the first time since the day he lost his friends, you can't.

"... I'm sorry," you finally say, the apology making him whip his head up to you again. Mouth opening to say something to comfort you, to tell you that it's not your fault. But the words are unable to leave his mouth when he sees your arms slightly outstretched towards him with a small smile.

And he can't hold it in anymore.

It only takes him a few wide steps to reach you from his position before he cradles you within his arms. The grip is tight, unbearably tight to the point it hurts, but you don't complain. You're limp in his hold, and if this was any day he wouldn't comment, but the fact that you're not moving a single muscle terrifies Jing Yuan to the core. "... Please," he finally manages to whisper, the rustling of ginkgo leaves around you almost drowning out his quiet plea.

"Please don't make me do this again."

He doesn't ask if the tensing of your body is caused by the pain that's rapidly increasing or if it's caused by his silent confession. He can however feel the gentle hand that rests against the lower part of his back and your head resting against the side of his own. The reassurance you try to give him does nothing to help because he's aware that it probably brought you unmeasurable pain to try to move those limbs - instead the general buries his face closer to your neck and squeezes you tighter.

"... You won't." you whisper quietly.

It takes a moment for Jing Yuan to process the meaning behind those two words.

But it's a moment too late, because before he can get his phone out to usher a command, a few resounding knocks can be heard throughout the quiet mansion.

"General Jing Yuan. This is Xueyi of the Ten-Lords commission. I've gotten information that there's currently a mara-struck within these premises."

Jing Yuan feels his blood run cold, he pulls himself away from you to stare at you properly in disbelief.

You're still staring at him with the same somber expression, however he can tell there's a small pitiful smile grazing your lips, "I'm sorry," you whisper once again.

"I asked her... personally," you start, finally letting yourself rest now that the end is near, slumping down onto Jing Yuan's chest, your ear settling itself against his heart to hear his rapid heartbeats.

Jing Yuan loathes the fact that it's at this moment, with the Ten-Lords commission outside of your door and with him completely broken do you actually look at peace - like your battle against time has finally come to its conclusion.

And naturally, the one who lost is you.

"Half a day... with you. Then she would come and bring me there. You won't have to... do this again."

You're not able to see Jing Yuan's face - and Jing Yuan wouldn't want you to see how he looked like right now. The arms around you is trembling, his mind is racing - trying to come up with anything to give him a bit more time with you.

But for once, the general that had a plan for every situation had nothing in mind.

He's lost. And the prize of the loss this time is losing you forever.

"General, I apologize for the rudeness of what I'm about to do, but this is for both of your safety," Jing Yuan hear Xueyi mutter from outside of the door, before he hears the rattling of the door frame start to slide open.

"Wait- no," it's a quiet request that gets ignored as Xueyi strides in alone, the lack of company making Jing Yuan's eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"... Their last request along with the request for my late arrival here was for the Cloud Knights to not see you like this. Naturally I won't tell anyone of what I've seen today."

Jing Yuan doesn't care about that, he could care less about his image right now, pulling you closer to him while his eyes are downcast - he makes no move to hand you over to the judge.

The puppet judge before him does not say anything - nor does she make a move. What she does however is wait, wait for the general before her that has been utterly crushed and broken by the person in his arms start to accept the harsh truth once again.

If he doesn't handle the mara-struck himself, someone else would - but the end result only serves to punish him in the end, the one left behind.

Xueyi hears a silent breath be let out by the general, her once closed eyes opening up to see the general pull slightly away from you, one hand reaching up to cradle your cheek. Your eyes have long since closed, and you're most likely not even conscious to hear what he's about to say.

"My dear... I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. But I'm afraid you'll have to wait a bit longer before we can meet again," he whispers, bumping his forehead against your own gently, "I hope you won't fault me for that."

A long ginkgo leaf flutters right between the two of you, eventually settling down on your chest.

Jing Yuan sucks in one last deep breath, "I'm sorry I kept you here for so long - I'm sorry you had to be in pain for so long because of me," he leans in to slot his lips one last time over your own, whispering something that Xueyi can't hear before he rises up, your body limp in his arms.

"Thank you for your service Miss Xueyi, please see them off appropiately." Jing Yuan says, voice sounding eerily calm - almost like his usual self.

When he turns around to finally face her, the puppet's lifeless eyes seem to grow a bit in surprise. Before her is the general of Luofu, his usual easy-going smile present on his lips.

Like he wasn't carrying his mara-struck lover in his arms.

"As much as I would want to accompany you to see them off, I'm afraid I have some urgent matters to attend to," he informs, handing your body over to Xueyi - she doesn't comment on how his hands are still slightly trembling or how he immediately turned a bit to the side to ignore staring at her head-on.

Even though Xueyi doesn't want to ask, she still asks either way, "What are your plans from here on, general?"

Jing Yuan only gives her a close eyed smile, turning his gaze towards the large ginkgo tree with his hands behind his back. He gnaws a tiny bit at his lips, finally breathing out.

A couple of seconds passes by before he opens his mouth.

"I think I'll meditate a bit under this tree before heading back to the Seat. I can't leave Luofu without me for too long after all."

5 SCRAPPED WORKS AND I'M STILL NOT ACTUALLY THAT SATISFIED BUT IF I KEEP THIS PIECE LONGER IN THE WORKS THE MORE I'LL BUTCHER IT SO HAHA - THIS IS THE BEST WE CAN DO AFTER 3 MONTHS OF CONSTANT BACK AND FORTH FELLAS. I HOPE IT SQUEEZED YOUR HEART A TINY BIT NONETHELESS.

[mercuriians]

I feel like a fic about Atsumu, Oikawa, and Bokuto finding their s/o reading fanfic about them would be hilarious

(You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to <3)

Have a lovely day and thank you if you end up doing this request <33333

a fantasy world

content info — gender neutral! reader, fluffy hq!! drabbles with some crack & hurt/comfort (sounds weird but bear w it, all separate). a teeny tiny bit suggestive in atsumu's part cuz he's a little shit.

word count — 1.9k words.

author’s note — holy HELL this is so late 😭 anon i hope ur still here, i made this pretty long so that's my way of apologizing. im also praying that atsumu is in character because this is only the second time ive written him. anyway, tysm for requesting!! hope u all like this <3

MIYA ATSUMU

your eyes are obstinately glued to your phone, wholly transfixed by the words that were typed across the screen. not a single soul knew about your little hobby and quite frankly, it was likely better that they remained oblivious. you wouldn’t know how to react if anyone found out, but really, there was one particular person who absolutely had to stay unaware.

as it turns out, they were also the very subject of the story you’re currently reading—of course, none other than your sweet, beloved boyfriend, atsumu. not that the term ‘sweet’ was an especially fitting term for him. ooh, that was a sick burn.

now, obviously you loved the boy. atsumu was bold, intelligent, thoughtful, hardworking, and affectionate to the point where osamu and the rest of his team often complained about how shameless he was in front of them. his spirit burned bright with fiery ambition, glimmering red and orange and yellow, and he introduced a kind of light into your life that you had never quite experienced before. at first you were a little wary at first, a little blinded by how much he shone, but because you were just as stubborn as he was, you soon grew used to it.

if anything, you came to learn that atsumu was undoubtedly one of the most inspirational people out there. motivating his peers was like second-nature to him, and even if he didn’t consciously put in the effort to inspire them, he still ended up doing so anyway. his love for volleyball was blatant in its authenticity, in its obsession. so when coupled with his charisma, and, yes, his boyishly good looks, atsumu developed a serious kind of gravitational pull. it was no wonder so many people were drawn in—yourself included.

but, inevitably, something had to be sacrificed. your boyfriend’s devotion to the game often meant that you two didn’t get to spend much time together. if atsumu wasn’t practicing at the gym, then he was either thinking about doing it, on his way to doing it, or—this happens only under the direst of circumstances—recovering from doing it. he was, in every sense of the word, a workaholic.

you were fine with it for the most part, mostly because you had a busy schedule to deal with yourself. if you weren’t doing homework or studying for an upcoming exam for the sake of staying on top of your classes, then you were either fulfilling your duties as a student council member, playing your respective sport, or taking care of things at home.

regardless, there were still times when you wished atsumu was with you. it didn’t matter if he was spewing volleyball jargon, or forcing you to pepper with him, or anything like that. you just wanted to spend time with him, to actually see him and his stupid face and his stupid smile that you want to kiss so badly.

maybe that’s why you’re so zeroed in on the fanfiction you’re reading—to try and make up for what you’ve been deprived of for days on end. a very palpable twinge of sadness tugs at your heart. you push the unwanted sentiment to the depths of your mind, trying to focus on reading the story again.

god, what sentence were you even on? and why was the door suddenly opening—

“hey baby, did ya miss me?”

your soul leaves your body.

before you even have time to think, a shrill scream rips from your throat as you scramble to hide your phone underneath the covers. atsumu's jaw drops, completely and utterly befuddled by your behavior. after a moment he raises his hands in mock surrender. "jeez, darlin', it's just me. your boyfriend, remember?" atsumu says, brow raised. there's a mixture of emotions written across his face—slight concern, palpable amusement, even some suspicion. "what are ya hidin' there on your phone, anyway?"

finally, you seem to find your voice. "n-nothing important," you mumble, clearly and very intentionally avoiding the intensity of atsumu's hawk-like gaze. "i didn't even know you'd be visiting today.. thought you would be busy with practice again."

maybe it's because your boyfriend knows you so well by now, but he catches the hint of bitterness in your tone. his face softens, and he takes one, two, three steps toward you until he's taking up the space on your left. "coach called in sick, so mister perfect decided to just cancel practice for today," atsumu shrugs. you're still somewhat upset, but you can't help but smile at the setter's nickname for his captain—kita shinsuke, the closest embodiment of perfection that anyone's ever seen.

"i'm pretty sure i texted ya that i would be dropping by," your boyfriend adds, glancing over at you. cautiously, you pull out your phone again and open up the messages app. lo and behold, he did in fact text you, but you were too busy with your fanfiction to notice.

your face burns with the weight of your embarrassment.

a small chuckle escapes from atsumu's mouth. "wow, i haven't even done anything and you're already blushin' for me," he teases. you hit his chest halfheartedly, muttering about how mean he's being. you fail to notice the calculating glint in his eyes. you also fail to notice his hand wandering.

a second later, atsumu grins smugly, your phone held securely in his grip.

"what the hell, 'sumu?!" you screech, trying to retrieve the object in vain. "how did you even—"

"i'm good with my hands," he winks, and you don't even have time to scold him for the clear innuendo because he's typing in the password to your phone. all you can do is accept your fate as atsumu discovers the story you were reading.

as expected, he laughs. loudly. it's almost like the laugh he lets out whenever he wins a bet against osamu. you turn away, shame and humiliation gnawing at your chest. there's nothing more you want than to be swallowed by the floor beneath you.

however, when atsumu's laughter dies down a few moments later, you feel him wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "baby," he begins, voice still a little breathless from all his cackling, "why are ya reading this when ya got the real thing right here?"

you look up at him, a confusing mess of emotions swirling within your stomach. "because we don't seem to spend much time together anymore," you admit, lowering your eyes to the ground. "laugh all you want, but these stories are there for me whenever i need them. you probably think it's stupid, or pathetic, or whatever, but.. i miss you, 'sumu."

you close your eyes, preparing to hear another round of thunderous laughter. it never comes.

"open yer eyes for me, babe," atsumu's voice is unexpectedly soft, tender. hesitantly, you do, and your gaze meets his. your boyfriend reaches out, resting a calloused hand against your cheek. his touch is so familiar, so comforting, that you can't do anything else but lean in and welcome it. "i didn't know that ya were feelin' this way, and i'll admit that it's my fault for not noticing. but hey, you wanna know somethin'?"

"what is it?" you whisper.

"i miss ya too," your boyfriend confesses. he leans in, placing a soft kiss against your lips. "and tomorrow, i'm taking ya out on a date."

OIKAWA TOORU

"oh my god, this is so cute," you sigh dreamily, swinging your feet in satisfaction as you indulge yourself. it was fanfiction, for crying out loud—can you really be blamed? this particular story practically reeked of fluff. you had just received flowers from the male lead, with you two having confessed just a few days ago. now you were on the first date, entering the doorway to a beautiful relationship that made every reader jealous.

the fact that the male lead—the infamous setter of aoba johsai, fanboy of iwaizumi hajime, hater of ushijima wakatoshi—also happened to be your boyfriend was just a minor detail.

you continued reading, the outside world completely irrelevant as you immersed yourself in the story. soon another squeal leaves your lips as oikawa, the male lead, bends down to kiss your hand. he says something swoonworthy, causing you to giggle like a madman. "that's it, i'm marrying you," you say, as if he can hear you through the story.

"marrying who?"

you let out a defeated sigh as your boyfriend pops his head into your room. there's a pout on oikawa's face, his mocha eyes filled with mock betrayal. still there's a part of you that knows he actually is a little bit jealous; he just doesn't know that technically, he's jealous of himself. "who are you marrying, babe?" he asks you somewhat accusingly. "i think it's a bit too early for—"

"shut up please," you groan, a bit sad that your reading session got interrupted. "i'm reading this fanfiction of you, and in the story, you're actually nice to me."

you immediately hear an indignant gasp from your boyfriend. he puts a hand to his chest, his pout now even more prominent. "excuse me, i am nice to you," oikawa scoffs as he walks over, squinting at the story you're reading. "i'm way better than him!"

"you are him," you deadpan.

"exactly! why are you reading that when i'm right here? i'm hurt," oikawa says in disapproval, shaking his head at you. "now move over."

you blink—once, twice. "wait, what?"

"i wanna read too," oikawa says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "so i can list all the things they got wrong about me."

BOKUTO KOUTAROU

maybe reading fanfiction about your boyfriend wasn't the best idea. it's not that the story wasn't great because it really was—the characterization was on-point, the writing style was smooth and elegant, and the plot was creative. it's more about your boyfriend himself. particularly the way that he reacted when he found out.

"am i not good enough?" bokuto asked you quietly as he stared up at you. his golden eyes were absolutely despondent, his shoulders were slouched, and even his owlish hair looked like it was deflated. you didn't need akaashi to understand that those were all signs of an emo bokuto.

and it was all because of you.

man, the guilt was unbearable.

"koutarou," you say softly, reaching out to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. "baby, you are more than enough for me. you're amazing, okay? you're my anchor, and you make me smile when no one else can. compared to you, this fanfiction means nothing." you pause, placing a tender kiss against his warm cheek. "seeing you sad makes me sad, you know?"

"i'm sorry," bokuto mumbles, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder. "i thought i'd let you down or something, like i wasn't being a good boyfriend. it scared me."

his words make your heart hurt even more. you pull away from the hug, letting your earnest gaze meet his. "from now on, you don't have to be scared," you tell him seriously. "i'll stop reading fanfiction, and every day, i'll remind you of how much you mean to me. is that fair, kou?"

bokuto nods, and it's at that moment that you start to see the gloomy aura around him disappear. "i love you," he says, and you can tell that he means it. he always does.

you pull him closer, your fingers combing through his hair soothingly. he hums quietly, enjoying the feeling. "i love you too, koutarou," you smile. "and no story will ever change that."

you let a few moments pass by, simply listening to the comforting sound of his heartbeat. slowly, you let your eyes close, your boyfriend's strong embrace lulling you to a light rest. after a few moments, though, bokuto's voice breaks through the silence. "can i ask you a question, babe?"

you open your eyes. "anything."

he pulls away, his expression completely serious as he looks at you. "can we get something to eat?"

[fallow-hollow]

Heyo! I came by to ask if it’s possible that you could write a Chilchuck x non binary! Reader who has a stutter and hasn’t gotten any help for it since childhood? Like not being able to say sentences properly without suddenly pausing by accident and having moments where the reader struggles on just one word? It’s mostly because I have irl and I don’t see a lot of books about readers that have a stutter as I think it’s used mostly to be cute or uwu- so maybe Chilchuck could try to help them?

cold reading

ft… chilchuck tims x nonbinary! reader

tags… pre-relationship, pining, reader has a stutter, fluff

word count… 882

notes… hope i did a good job! i had a friend who stutters be my beta reader to make sure i did alright, but further notes are always welcome! also fun fact, a ‘cold read’ is a read through or performance of a script or text with no prior practice, so i thought it would make a cute title !!

This may have been your idea, but you were already starting to have some second thoughts about this plan.

Chilchuck was well aware that you often had some trouble speaking, but it was never something he wanted to intervene on without your permission. The man had his own fair share of experiences being babied by those around him, so the last thing he wanted to do was belittle you by acting as if he knew more about what would help you than you did. So, naturally, reaching out about wanting assistance was up to you.

If there was anyone you trusted to help you with this vice of yours, it was Chilchuck. It wasn’t even that he himself was particularly well spoken or collected — no, it was your trust in him from a personal perspective that made it so easier to confide in him. The two of you had always been pretty good friends, and plus, it was rather nice how he never judged you for things you couldn’t control.

Truth be told, seeking help from someone like Falin likely would have been equally as helpful, but if you had to be honest with yourself, you also just enjoyed spending time with the man. Something about his presence put you at ease, despite the standoffish demeanor he had most of the time.

That’s how you found yourself here, trying to read from a book while he sat patiently beside you.

However, this may have been far less embarrassing for you if the book you borrowed for this little practice session wasn’t one of Marcille’s romance novels.

“She tr- trekked across th- across the muddy dirt path, her, her boots… boots covered in…..” Even when reading completely inoffensive narration, you still tripped up on certain consonants and found yourself repeating certain words. Sometimes, you’d even lose your place or space out, and end up unconsciously repeating the end of a word when you ‘picked up where you left off’, so to speak.

Chilchuck stayed silent, of course, not wanting to be rude by calling you out or correcting you in the middle of your sentences, but the long periods of yourself speaking and nothing else did make you feel rather awkward at times. After you sighed and shook your head, signifying that you had given up, he allowed himself to speak.

“Maybe try reading some dialogue instead. It could feel more natural if it’s something you could say to an actual person instead of just narration.” At his suggestion, you nodded, letting your eyes scan the page to the closest piece of dialogue you could find.

…Ah.

Well, it wasn’t that embarrassing. Compared to the other things one might find in a novel like this, it was really rather tame. Yes, you could make this work.

When you glanced up, the half-foot was still meeting your gaze, looking as if he had something to say. You murmured a quick “Yes?”, to which he responded promptly.

“You’ve mostly been looking at the text while you’ve been talking.” One hand gestured briefly to the book you were holding. “I dunno if this is the case, but focusing too hard on the written words could trip you up.”

The statement did ring true, at least somewhat. You’d been very fixated on matching the written words to the pronunciations in your head so as to not mess them up, but maybe that was contributing to this unnatural sort of feeling you’d had while you were reading. Talking to Chilchuck certainly did help you calm down most of the time, so maybe you’d feel more relaxed if you tried that instead.

He didn’t directly tell you to, but you chose to look at Chilchuck’s face while you talked. After reading the words and trying to internalize them the best you could, looking at him was almost a way to relax your eyes. Without focusing on a particular point or feature, you let yourself just… take him in. Register that this was the person you were speaking to. Allow the words to be fully and wholly directed at him.

In hindsight, the method may have been a bit too effective, judging from how the sentence came out almost immediately and with great fervor,

“You have no idea the lengths I’d go to just to see you!”

Hey, why did the man across from you look ever so slightly pink…?

Oh.

“Oh no, no I’m so- s-so sorry! Sorry!” Your hands shot up in an apologetic yet defensive behavior, which seemed to ease Chilchuck’s nerves, judging by the small laugh he let out.

With a wave of his own hand, he responded, “You don’t need to be. Just surprised you’d get so bold all of a sudden.” He then shot you a wink and a point, something that threatened to make you melt entirely. So easily could he touch your heart, yet at the same time it was hard to falter when he smiled at you like that.

“Did a good job on that one, though. Sounded great!”

Either way, if you can one day manage to speak your true feelings to him, then maybe you’ll be able to say all the other things you want to as well.

“Tha…thank you, your help, it, um… it really means a lot.”

[norman-fucking-reedus]

Hey 👋🏽!!,

I just want to stop by and say I absolutely love your fics, you capture Daryl so well😍. I was wondering if you could write something where Norman stops by his restaurant in Senoia for a quick meeting and sees the hot new waitress working there and it's lust at first sight🥵😈 .. He has to have her.. They meet up after her shift takes her back to his home and c o m p l e t e l y ruins her 🥴🫠: Blowjob & swallow, NORMAN WHIMPERING 😩🤌🏽 as reader sucks him off, deep fingering, face sitting & squirt, eating out tongue fuck!ng, ROUGH doggie style with a sloppy creampie breeding kink ending 😮‍💨 WHEW LAWD😶‍🌫️🫣, I hope this isn't too off the rails for you 🙃 Below is an aesthetic of what I want female reader and Norman to look like

"The New Girl"

Please and thank you 🙏🏾 🤭

GIRL. OMFG. THE WAY YOU DID NOT HOLD BACK AT ALL?? LITERALLY CURLING MY TOES PULLING MY HAIR KNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE

I’m actually really scared because this is gonna be my first time ever writing for Norman, or an actor in general, and I’m just nervous for this to come out like super corny or I write him super out of character and it’s like your average fangirl fanfic but tbh we’re just gonna close our eyes, spin around in circles and god willing nothing bad happens

The reader is black, obvs, but it’s written in a way where everyone can still enjoy and squeeze their thighs together, you’ll just be one of us in this story 🎀

Also how did I not know Norman had a restaurant… three actually…

This definitely has a word count of atleast 4k my phone actually started to slow down everytime I opened this

@blackvelveteen1339 I hope I did you justice cause holy fucking hell this was the hottest request EVER ❤️❤️

THE NEW GIRL

“Are ya' impressed yet?”

Everyone knows that moving to another place will always be the hardest feature in life, let alone moving to a whole new city in a whole different state.

Senoia was absolutely stunning, with breathtaking views and beach perfect weather. It was totally everything that you had hoped it would be, and so was your little studio apartment, which wasn’t bad at all considering the cozy size, not to mention there were quite a few stores around, also well as the infamous main street.

You sighed, a twinge of sadness. At almost twenty-seven, this would be your first time ever living alone, having lived with your parents for a huge chunk of your life. You were still young and wanted to go out into the big world on your own, and for the longest Georgia had been calling out your name.

Some of your friends and family had discouraged you from going, claiming that it was ridiculous to move so far away from home so carelessly. For a minute, you had even thought so yourself, repeating it over and over again in your head that it wasn’t worth it, or that it was just a dumb dream, and you didn’t even have a path in mind. It was a reckless thing to do, to go into a whole new state with no clue on what you wanted to do with yourself, let alone who you wanted to be.

Yet, here you sat in your new apartment, with nothing but a suitcase, duffel bag and mattress to your name, yes, happier than you’ve ever been but lonely as well. You check your phone, swiping through your notifications before unlocking it, and opening your Instagram.

You had always been a quiet and reserved person with a bit of a wild side, which you kept hidden very well under wraps. Your feed consisted of hair tips, food, traveling, and a little heat. You followed a couple of influencers, mostly your favorite music artists, and actors. There were lots of concerts happening in Atlanta, which you found wasn't far away from Senoia at all. You'd always wanted to see some of your faves in person, but none of them had ever come out to where you used to live. Not to mention, it was expensive. Speaking of expensive, you realized that you would need to start looking for a job sooner or later if you wanted to keep your studio.

Luckily you had enough to pay rent for at least the next few months, however, groceries were quite pricey these days. You huffed and glanced over to your suitcase to where it remained unpacked in the corner, clothes spilling out of it from where you had been carelessly digging through it. You had only been in Georgia for a few weeks, and hadn't really left to go anywhere. By the looks from what you could see out the window, it was an undeniably nice day, and job opportunities were always fluttering around. You decided that it was finally time to get your shit together and show Senoia what kind of girl you really were.

Swinging off your makeshift bed, you rose to your feet, grimacing slightly and groaning softly as you stretched and walked over towards the bathroom, frowning at the tangled mess that was your hair once you stood in front of the mirror. There were also a few stains on your shirt. Yeah, a shower was definitely needed. You twisted the handle to the middle and allowed the water to heat up, padding over to your messy suitcase.

There were a couple of hangers in the closet but that was about it. Luckily there were also shelves built in which would have to do for now. You were probably going to need a small list of things, hangers being priority number one.

Going through the suitcase, you had your everyday clothes, some old work clothes, and few clubbing clothes. Your duffel bag contained your personable items, as well as a couple of important documents and paperwork for the apartment. You had already moved all your hygienic stuff into the bathroom, and decided to stress about putting away your clothes later, focusing on what you would actually wear out.

You wanted it to be a mix between comfortable yet classy, classy yet also sexy. A simple and lowcut long-sleeve matched with a pair of bootcut jeans that you could easily jazz up with some jewelry and a cute hairstyle. Draping the outfit over your bed, you began to rid yourself of your clothes, fishing a towel as well as a bra and pair of panties out of your duffel bag, and stacking them together on the bathroom counter. You played music off your phone out loud and made a mental note to also buy a speaker, letting out a satisfied groan as you stepped under the hot spray from the shower head.

The water ran down the length of your body from where it soaked in your curly hair, eyes fluttering shut as droplets began rolling down your face. It felt incredible to have days worth of bedrotting be finally washed down the drain. You wiped the water out your eyes and wringed it out your hair, reaching for the shampoo bottle and twisting the cap off, dumping a handful of the liquid into your palm. You smeared it from the top of your head, carrying it down to your ends, beginning to thoroughly scrub your way back up to your scalp, where you worked the soap into the strands.

Once your hair was completely coated and covered in suds, you rinsed the excess from your hands and grabbed your body wash to start cleaning yourself up as you let the shampoo soak into your hair. You drizzled a generous amount onto the sponge amd ran it under the hot water, rubbing it together in your hands to create the foamy bubbles. You began to work your way up one arm, scrubbing the skin as you went over your shoulder and underneath your arm, moving over across your collarbone to the other arm, eventually working down the length of your chest, as well as legs.

You squeezed the remaining soap out from the sponge, hanging it back in its spot as you started to rinse off your body, leaned your head back and wringing the sudsy water out your hair, hands working to wash all the shampoo out the coily strands. Not that you were in a rush, but it did take a little time, an ache beginning to form in your arms by the time you were done. Pumping a generous amount of conditioner into your hand, you worked it into your scalp with the tips of your fingers and rubbed it into the rest of the strands, clipping it back once there was no more left in your hands.

This time you shaved your legs, cause lord knows it’s been a minute since you’ve done that. In the process of shaving them, you noticed that your bikini area could also use some razor work.

It had been a little while since you had needed any reason to shave down there, but now that you were in a new environment with new faces, you never knew what you might stumble across. The men back in your hometown were okay, but you held your hopes up high that Senoia would toss something totally unexpected your way.

Once you were bare and smooth, you washed away the hair caught in your razor and unclipped your curly hair, rinsing off the clip before your hair, humming at how soft the strands felt under the stream of water. You squeezed and wrung out the conditioner, hearing the days of neglect run down the drain. When it was all out, you gave your body one last thorough scrub, properly washing off your skin from head to toe before shutting off the water and grabbing your towel.

You sighed as you patted your face dry, moving down your neck and chest. As you dried your hair, you stood in front of the mirror, lazily singing along to the current song playing and striking a few poses in your nude form. Although you did have a few insecurities, ones that sprouted from your late teen years and hadn't really left in your adult years, you preferred to just focus on the parts of yourself that you really liked.

It was still fairly early as you rechecked your phone, dropping the towel down on the ground and slipping on your panties, clasping your bra on shortly after. You grabbed your toothbrush and squeezed almost a little too much paste onto the bristles, giving it some water before scrubbing your teeth, mindlessly walking around your apartment as you did. The main street below your window was still bustling with cars and filled with people spilling out of shops, and music thumping from the lively restaurants. There was a nearby park that was full of squealing children, as well as other people from the community and neighboring apartment complexes. All of it was much different than what you had grown accustomed to back home, but it was such a nice change of scenery all at the same time, and you couldn't wait to throw yourself out onto Senoia's street.

Back in your little bathroom, you flicked the sink faucet on and spit the gathered foam out, filling your mouth with water and swishing it around for a little, spitting it out as well. You also brushed your tongue before taking in another mouthful of water, washing out the remaining toothpaste from your brush before dropping it back in its cup, shutting the sink off, and wiping your mouth dry. Taking a deep, but quick grounding breath, you moved to put your clothes on, hiking your fairly tight jeans up before slipping on your top. Even though it was plain black, it had a cute set of flared sleeves.

You dug through your bag for your box of jewelry as well as your makeup, setting both down heavily on the counter as you stared at your hair in the mirror, huffing in annoyance as you started to wonder if you needed to style it. Maybe a half-up half-down look? No, a full ponytail would be better. But a high bun would also be cute... or maybe a half-bun. Maybe bald. Bald would be best.

You mentally kick yourself as you flip the lid to your makeup box open to distract yourself from your hairstyle dilemma. You reassured yourself that you'd figure out something by the time you were fully ready, sighing as you prepped your face. The only times you ever really used makeup was when you were going out with intent, and wanted to make sure that your face stood out to any potential victims. It didn't take long to do as you pointedly and skillfully brushed sharp and soft lines over your honey skin, keeping your hand as steady as your body would allow you.

A few swipes of liner and mascara later, glossy lips, and the front of your hair parted to the side, you were clipping on a silver necklace paired with a bracelet, and a dangly pair of earrings. It was a bit simple, so you decided to layer another necklace on top of the other, smiling at yourself in the mirror before flipping the lights off, padding out into the bedroom, and fishing around for your purse, placing it on the bed next to you as you slid on a pair of wedged sandals. Hopefully, the foot pain later would be worth it.

You slipped your phone into your back pocket, and threw your purse onto your shoulder, tossing in a small bottle of perfume just in case. You shut the doors inside and flicked off the main room light, creaking your front door open and securely shutting it behind you, locking it with your keys before tossing them into your purse, striding down the hallway of your complex with intention hot in your steps.

When you pushed the door of your building open, the warm and inviting air of Senoia almost immediately filling your lungs, you felt a strong sense of anticipation surge through you as you walked out onto the sidewalk, the sounds of conversations now real and more animated than ever, the thumping of music now bumped through your feet and right in your chest.

As you casually strolled down the sidewalk, taking in all the different buildings and things to do, a furniture store caught your eye. While you didn't have any money, it never hurt to look around, and maybe get some information from some of the locals.

The furniture store was filled with pieces on the much older side and vintage lamps that only old ladies would be interested in, but you continued to walk around anyway. As you were browsing a wall of intricate paintings and sculptures, a kind-looking woman approached you.

"Welcome to Hollberg's! Our newer, more modern stuff is upstairs if that's more your style" She smiled, and you gave a polite one in return. "I'm just browsing for now. Just moved here about a week ago and I don't have a job yet" You lightly laughed.

The woman gave you an excited expression, clasping her hands together. "How nice! Where are you from originally?"

"Louisiana, Chalmette. I lived there for most of my life so I just needed a fresh start somewhere totally new." You sigh, still kindly smiling at her.

"I get that, and Senoia is perfect for that, Georgia overall. Atlanta is also quite close, and there's lots of job opportunities out there."

You frown, "Unfortunately I don't have a car, and you can't Uber without money" Shaking your head at your obviously very sticky situation.

The woman seemed to think for a moment, walking quickly away to fetch something from behind a desk and coming back over, holding out a few pieces of paper. "We aren't hiring now, but here are some flyers for restaurants in this strip. Not sure how lucky you'll get, but I do wish you luck. There's a cafe right across the way" You took the flyers from her, smiling at her one last. "Thanks girl. Hopefully, next time we talk it's about furniture" She let out a small laugh, watching as you spun on your heels and walked out of the store.

On your way out, you almost immediately spotted the cafe and wasted no time walking over to it, quickly crossing the street while throwing a few quick glances to the left and right as you did. Before you entered, you slipped the restaurant flyers into your purse and swung the door open, the smell of coffee strong and a bit overwhelming. The cafe was quite large inside, and there was a small line at the registers at near front, nothing you weren't willing to stand in.

Once you reached the front, you were greeted by a young woman, smiling brightly at you. "Hi! Welcome to Senoia's Coffee and Cafe, what can I get started for you?"

"Sorry, I'm not looking to buy anything, I'm actually looking for work. I just moved here about a week ago" She made a small look of surprise, furrowing her brows as she mouthed 'one moment' and disappeared behind a wall, returning mere seconds later with a sheepish look replacing her previous one. "We, unfortunately, aren't hiring right now. I think my boss is in a bad mood, but I heard the restaurant down the street is hiring! Uh, just can't think of the name"

You fish out the flyers, "Any of these?" Holding them out to her. She tilts her head, humming quietly before tapping her finger against one. "This place! They need waitresses, especially around this time. You'd be a great fit there too" She smiled, and you smiled back, giving her a "Thanks" before walking back out of the shop, and down the sidewalk, eyeing a few of the other buildings before stopping in front of dark gray one, reading the sign before pulling the door open.

The inside of the restaurant was absolutely stunning, with clean floors, and light walls mixed with brick that complemented the expensive chandlers hanging from the ceiling, highlighted against the polished wooden furniture. There was casual jazz playing in back, loud enough to hear but loud enough to still be able to talk normally.

The restaurant was fairly small, a highly stocked bar on one side and the dining room on the other, bathrooms at the back. You weren't quite sure where to stand, awkwardly off to the side as you scanned the room for someone, feeling relieved when a woman spotted you and called that she would be right there. You watched as she cleaned a finished table, quickly walking the dirty dishes into the kitchen before coming back out, huffing when she reappeared.

"It's a lot of work, huh?" You asked kindly, and she sighed.

"Hell yes. I jus' wish I had one more set of hands" She laughed airily, tapping at something on her register. "Table fer one?"

You shook your head, "No, I'm actually here to work. Just moved here a week ago" Smiling softly at her.

She gave you a look of surprise, "Really? Where ya comin' from?"

"Chalmette in Louisiana. I just needed a different change of scenery, somewhere new where I can figure my shit out" She nodded her head at your words. "I hear that. Good fer ya' girl! Like I said, I need one more set of hands. Got any experience?"

"I worked in a sports bar for a good while back home, there wasn't really much to work with" You sighed. "I've never served tables but I was a host for a little bit"

She seemed pretty satisfied, nodding as you spoke with a smile tugging her lips. "Well, I'd say yer gonna make a pretty good damn waitress. How soon can ya' start?"

"I'd start today if you let me" You laugh lightly, and she makes a face. "I mean if you can bring me the papers I need within the hour I can get you a shift tonight"

You blinked at her, raising a brow. "Seriously?"

"I'll give ya' the uniform straight after, m'serious" She smiled, holding out her hand.

You took hers in yours with little hesitation, shaking it firmly. “I’ll be right back” Was all you said before walking out the restaurant, quickly and eagerly striding back over to your apartment building. It was maybe a five minute walk, which was not bad at all. As you entered, walking through the lobby and up the stairs, you dug in your purse for the keys to your studio, swinging them around your finger as you walked down the hallway on your floor.

Unlocking the door, you stepped inside and shut it, placing your purse on the counter and taking out the flyers, rushing over to your suit case and flipping it open, rummaging through. You grumbled as you began pulling stuff out, zipping open pockets and shaking the bag, about to freak out when the blue folder fell out. “Aha!”

You cracked it open, smiling when you confirmed the important papers such as your W2 as well as birth certificate. You rose to your feet and it in your purse, finish out your wallet to make sure you had your I.D as well as social security, tossing it back into the bag and sliding it back over your shoulder, setting out your house once again to go get your new job.

You felt a small amount of anxiety boiling in your stomach as the sun started to set, the main street of Senoia, only get louder and louder, even through your shut window. Your eyes flickered down to your pressed uniform, sharply exhaling as you checked the time on your phone and unlocked it, rereading the schedule over and over again. It was about five-thirty, and you needed to be there at six.

Hooking your phone up to get some more charge as you stripped out your regular clothed and into your work ones, humming pleasantly as you looked the mirror. The shirt was tight but loose fit, and the pants covered your ankles. It was an all black uniform, ‘Nic & Norman’s’ in the left corner embroidered in white.

To keep your hair out the way, but still stylish, you tied it back into two high and curly space buns. You decided to go for a simple cat eye liner look, sticking on a pair of lashes instead of mascara this time. A few quick swipes of a rose pink gloss, and a couple spritz’s of your most expensive perfume, you were done and ready to go.

As you slipped a pair of black tennis shoes on, you still had a lingering feeling of nerves in your tummy. This wasn’t your first job obviously, but this was you first waitress job. The woman you had spoken too, who’s name you learned was Tyler, reassured you that you were a perfect fit.

Standing in the mirror one last time, you gave yourself a good look over to make sure you looked professional and presentable, hopefully also tippable.

You tossed your purse over your shoulder, and draped a sweater over yourself, flipping off all the lights and shutting the front door behind you, locking it and stuffing your keys inside.

Just as you expected, the air was brisk and much cooler than it had been when the sun was still high in the sky, night falling over the streets and Senoia’s street lighting itself up, restaurants now more alive than ever. As you walked with a small crowd, you observed how almost everyone was now dressed in more proper attire, nicely ironed suits paired to modestly short dresses.

The outside seating of Nic & Norman’s was already packed full when you arrived, swinging the door open to find the inside seats equally as stuffed. You felt your nerves soaring this time, and tried not to awkwardly duck your head down as you walked into the kitchen, feeling like a foreigner.

“Y/n! Thank fuck!” Tyler gasped from behind you, making you jump slightly. “I’ve got salads and burgers wedged so far up m’fuckin’ ass” She grumbled, grabbing you by thw wrist and pulling you quickly through the clamoring kitchen into a back office.

She dropped down onto a seat, sighing heavily. “Is it like this every night?” You asked, a little more scared then you should be.

“Sometimes. If m’not mistaken, one of the owners should be coming tomorrow. Boy do I sure hope it’s Norman” Tyler sighed, dreamily at the end. She stared off into space with a small smile, and you looked around the room, looking at the overflowing cubbies. “Shit sucks. Ya’ can stick yer stuff with mine” She spoke, snapped out her trance and pointing at a pile a good distance away from the rest. “It’s okay. People know not ta’ fuck with m’shit” Tyler added when she saw the wary look on your face.

“So, who exactly is ‘Nic and Norman’?” You question, and Tyler’s mouth drops.

“You don’t know who Greg Nicotero and Norman Reedus are?” You shook your head, brows furrowed in pure confusion. Maybe you did know them, you just never were very big on putting faces to names.

Tyler whipped out her phone, but frowned. “Shit girl, forgot we had a job ta’ be doin’. Don’ even stress. Ya’ look real good. Shirt fits ya’ good too. Yer gon be loaded up with tips, ‘nd m’sure ya’ can handle tha’ creeps” She rose to her feet, checking her own makeup in the camera lense of her phone before pocketing it. “And don’ try ta’ be fuckin’ superman and carry thirty plates at a time. Pro-tip, learn some Tetris” Tyler swiped a new layer of gloss on her lips, and tossed it into her pocket, pulling you back through the busy kitchen.

“Luckily they print tha’ table number tha’ food is fer on tha’ ticket, so tha’ chef’s started ta’ put tickets with plates, so when ya come here, just find yer table” She explained quickly yet simply, each word she spoke going in one ear and echoing in the other, turning themselves on loop.

Tyler poked her head out the kitchen, looking around before she beckoned someone over. A young man came jogging over, and she pulled him inside by his shirt. Damn if she didn’t play around.

“This is Javi, one of our hosts tonigh’.” Tyler gestured to his with her hands, and he waved politely. “Javi is gon’ show ya’ yer table section. From this point on, m’gon be nothin’ but a blur ta’ ya” She placed a hand on your shoulder, smiling at you before turning and picking up the plates from earlier, easily balancing them on her arms and kicking open the kitchen door, out onto the floor.

A awkward moment of silence passed between you and the young man, not really quiet, but there were no words spoken as he swiped through something on an iPad, brows slightly furrowed. “You’re um, you’re y/n right?” He mumbled, and you nodded.

Javi motioned for you to follow him with his head, and he led you out into the loud dining area, bringing you over towards the bar. “See those four tables there?” He pointed, and you had to follow his finger, nodding when you spotted the four booths he was pointing to. “All yours. They can hold up to like ten people, so good luck.” You grimaced at that, feeling your stomach do flips.

“Here. Can’t be a waitress without your notepad. Or a pen” Javi joked, and you smiled kindly at him, thanking him. As you did, a new wave of people entered, prompting Javi to go over and get them situated. You watched as he seated the new guests, and pulled a group waiting from the lobby, grabbing their menus and leading them over to your section.

He came back over, mouthing ‘all yours’ before disappearing into the kitchen.

You took a few, shaky and deep breaths, before putting on your friendliest face and approaching the table.

Luckily, it was just a simple family, mom and dad with their two kids who seemed to be well over the age of ten. You greeted them with a kind smile, “Welcome to Nic & Norman’s, my name is Y/n and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you started on any drinks?” You clicked your pen, pressing it into the pad of paper.

The mother smiled back at you, “You guys sure are busy! I bet it’s always exciting when they come to town, huh?” She glanced back at her menu, acting as if she hadn’t left you totally clueless.

“Yeah. It’s only my first day here so I’m a little nervous” You confess, brushing off her earlier statement. “Gosh! Well, guess we’re testing you now!” She laughed, and you laughed as well, only a tad unnerved. “I think I’ll just do a simple cocktail” You nodded, writing down at the top of the pad. Her son ordered a strawberry lemonade, her daughter a soda, and her dad a beer.

“I’ll have those right out for you guys” You clicked your pen once again, and quickly walked away, retreating back into the kitchen.

You pushed the doors open, but frowned at the loud clamoring and multiple orders being shuffled out. No way in hell would your drinks be done in a reasonable time. You exited out the kitchen, glancing around when you had a lightbulb moment.

“Psst, hey muscle man” You called to the bartender, leaning against the counter. “Think you could make these real fast?” You held out the drink ticket, wiggling it as you flirtatiously smiled and batted your lashes.

He stammered for a second, “muscle man?” glancing down at himself and feeling a heat rise to his cheeks. What could you say? You knew a strong man when you saw one.

You kept your hand outstretched, motioning for him to take it.

“Do I even know you?” He raised a brow, and you shook your head. “Nope. But you should do it anyways” You smile, and he frowns, taking the paper from your hand. You spot Javi leaving your section, throwing you a glance and a thumbs up, and you tap the bartop. “I’m counting on you, Hercules”

You approach your second table, and feel a hint of annoyance surge through you as you discover it’s a group of men. Very loud ones at that. You put on your best fakest smile, clicking your pen against your leg as you spoke. “Welcome to Nic & Norman’s, my name is Y/n and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get a round of drinks going for you gentlemen?”

One of the men whistled, “Well ain’t you just somethin’ pretty to look at” letting out a very country laugh.

A few of the other men let out laughs, and you simply smiled, more of ‘I wish I was off the clock so I could rock you’ smile, but still a smile. “Yeah. I’m also here to get you guys something to drink” You joked, knowing men tipped more when you gave into their antics.

"Let the woman do her job, Bill" Another man said to him, nudging him with his arm and he swatted them away. You tapped your pen against the paper, trying not to hurt one of them. Thankfully they made things easy and agreed to order a round of beer. You murmured that you'd be back, quickly walking out of the section to the bar.

When you walked over, you could see the family's drinks sitting on top of the counter and swapped out the drink tickets when you stopped before them. It was a little awkward trying to carry four drinks at once, struggling as you kept picking up and putting the cups downs.

“See? Wha' did I say?” Tyler spoke as she suddenly appeared next to you, placing a hand on her hip. “Tryin’ be some kind of fuckin’ avenger when yer jus’ makin’ yerself look goofy” She scoffed and held out her dish tray, watching as you placed the drinks down on it.

You took it from her with a sheepish look. "Thanks, Just a bit on edge" You told her, and she placed both her hands on your shoulders, smiling softly at you. "Don' be. Yer a natural. Jus' keep doin' wha' yer doin'" She gave you a salute and was gone as quickly as she had come.

Sighing sharply, you walk the tray of drinks over to the family with a smile and hand them, listening to the mother awe over the colors of her cocktail. "How pretty! I think we're all ready to order, right?" She glanced at her family for their confirmation, and you pulled your notepad out, tucking your tray under your arm. The mother ordered a margarita flatbread, her husband ordering a whiskey salmon, and her kids both ordering a classic hamburger. "I'll have those out for you guys shortly" You smiled once you had their order scribbled down, collecting their menus and leaving them be.

You walked past the men's table, briefly letting them know you were coming back with their beers, and dropped the menus off to the front where Javi was standing, getting the next group of people seated. "Y/n, I'm gonna stick these folks in your section. Hand me those" He said as he turned to you, taking the menus from your hand and leading them to your third table. You weren't doing too bad if you did say so yourself.

Thanks to the help of the tray, loading up the round of beers for the men wasn't much of a hassle at all. When they saw you approaching with the mugs filled to the bim, they whooped and hollered, prompting you to shush them as they began to collect eyes nearby. Instead of handing out the drinks like you did with the last table, you simply let them take their respective mug off the tray, knocking their glasses together. "I'm guessing you fellas are ready to order huh?" You give them your best show, even jutting your hip out a little. Don't get mad at a girl for using her resources.

"You bet'cha sweet ass we are, and this big boy wants a steak" The one they call Bill piped up once again, drumming on his belly as he spoke. A few laughs erupted from the table, and you felt your eye twitching. "How would you like that cooked?" You mumbled, smile just barely clinging to your face. "Medium-rare. I like mines to be pink on the inside" He laughed gravelly, and you tried to act like he wasn't comparing a steak to someone's vagina.

The same man nudged Bill, this time a little harder and more serious than last time. "Sorry 'bout him. I'll do the medallions" You nodded at him as you wrote down his order, murmuring how it was alright. The other men just started to throw their orders out there, placing their menus down in the middle once you had their request scribbled down. You gathered all the menus and dropped them off to the front, exhaling as you made your way to the kitchen in order to get your tables food started.

As you pushed the door open, you groaned when you saw how chaotically busy it was getting, loud chattering and banging filling the space. Orders were lined up and quickly being pushed out, some of the other waiters brushing past with their own trays of food in hand. Glancing around for someone, you awkwardly handed off the papers to the nearest chef. Getting ready to exit out the kitchen, feeling as though you were in the way the sound of applause rang out from the front, and all movement around seem to freeze for split second. You all looked around at each other, mirroring faces of confusion before Tyler came barreling through the doors.

"Norman fucking Reedus just fucking walked in and I swear on everythin' I love I'm gon’ go absloutely mad" She rambled, bouncing with energy.

“I thought he wasn’t supposed to come til tomorrow?” The head chef spoke, rising a brow from where he was manning a large grill.

Tyler rolled her eyes, charging towards rhe back office. “Who cares? He’s here now ‘nd I need ta’ make sure I look good!” She got about halfway, before turning back around grabbing you by the wrist, resuming her mission to the office.

Inside, she shuffled over to hee stuff, digging through a backpack and pulling out a makeup bag, plopping down in a seat and pulling up the lens of her phone. “So what’s the big deal?”

“Wha’s tha’ big deal?” Her eyes almost bulged out of her head, staring at you in shock and a bit of horror. “Oh, nothin’, jus’ tha’ he’s tha’ sexiest guy in Hollywood”

You scoffed at her, “Sexy ain’t nothing if he’s shit in the sheets” shaking your head.

Tyler groaned, curling her lashes carefully. “Ya’ don’ even know wha’ yer talkin’ ‘bout. He’s a munch, certifiable”

“Psh. I’ll believe that when I see it.” You say, turning to walk out the office and get a look at this guy for yourself.

“Wait!” Tyler held out her hand, rising to her feet. “Yer not leavin’ without a little touchup. One of us is gettin’ lucky tonight and it’s gon’ be me. If ya’ fuck him, I want all them details” She spoke as she maneuvered you to sit in the chair, tilting your your head up and insecpting your face.

“If I do fuck him it’ll just be so I can get ahold of his wallet” You murmur, closing your eyes as she dusted the lids of them with glitter, brushing some down the bridge of your nose. “Well ya’ better share some with me” She pinched your nose, and you swatted playfully at her, smirking. “I’ll think about it”

She swipes a glossy layer of gloss over your lips, before her own, tossing the contents of her makeup back into the bag and the bag back into her backpack. The kitchen has returned to loud clamoring and pots and pans being banged together, servers dashing in and out with their orders.

Nearby by, the food for your first table was waiting patiently for you, and you gasped softly. “Oh wow this stuff actually looks really good!”

Tyler held out the dish tray for you, again, holding it with both hands and verbally helping you to cram all four dishes on there, the flatbread being a long and awkward dish. “The salmon is super good. I probably done’ forced the kitchen ta’ make it fer m’bout a hundred times now” She laughed as she spoke, gingerly handing off the the tray to you. “Don’ drop nothin’”

“Now why would you even say that?” You roll your eyes at her, and lightly kick her shin, turning on your heel quickly to walk out the kitchen when she frowned your actions.

You pushed the door open with your hip and walked back out into the busy dining area, a smile on your face as you approached the family with their food, placing the tray down on the table so you could hand out their plates easily. The mother helped by taking her flatbread off, humming as she made sure it was exactly what she had wanted. “Could I get anything else for you folks tonight?” You politely asked, sliding the tray off the table and back under your arm. “Nope! Thank you, you’ve been so kind and helpful” The woman smiled back at you, and you slightly bowed your head before leaving them to their meal.

“I should be back with you guys food as well. Another round while we wait?” You stopped by the mens table, observing their almost empty mugs and giving a thumbs up at their rowdy agreement. “And my apologies for the wait. At least you had plenty of menu looking time right?” You joked lightly as you finally approached your third table for the night, a small group of friends who seemed like easy people to deal with.

“Ahaha, not much. We were pretty hung up on drinks. I think we’re all gonna try the Bloody Nicotero” One of the women spoke, glancing around the table for her friends confirmations. They all nodded in agreement, and another girl requested for a cup of water. “Would you like table water? For all of you!” They nodded, and you scribbled down the few drinks. “I’ll be right back with those” You smile at them, and as soon as you walk out the section it totally drops.

“Hey, muscle man!” You called out to him, leaning over the bartop. He eyed you from the side, finishing the drink he was currently pouring before moving over to you, a brow raised. “I have a name y’know” He pointed to the tag, but you ignored him, raising your own finger and pointing to the group’s order. “What the hell is a bloody Nekot… Nickote- Tar?-“

“Nicotero. And it really packs a punch” A man spoke suddenly from behind you, making you instinctively jump with your hands raised. “My God! Didn’t your momma teach you not to walk up behind people?” You huffed and put a hand over your thumping heart, turning back to the bartender to promptly ignore the asshole behind you.

“So like I was saying- What? Why’re you looking like that?” You glance at his stun face, and turn back to the man behind you, a curious smile tugging his lips. “Are you Nicotero?” You quirk a brow, and the bartender sputters.

The man lets out a light chuckle, shaking his head which made his wavy curls bounce. His hair was fair dark and stopped at his shoulders, his bangs attractively pushed back by a pair of sunglasses. He was pretty tall, and very well built, eyes lingering on his musclar arms longer than they should’ve. Your eyes flickered down to the skull inked on his hand, and then back up to his face.

“Nope. Nicotero is the other guy. I’m just Norman” His voice was smooth and rich, but not quite deep. It had a light and airy feel to it, very gentle on the ears.

Norman. Norman… “Reedus?” He nodded. Oh, well, shit. “Don’ know if you were aware of this pretty girl but I own this place” He spoke casually and easily.

“I wasn’t actually. I’ve only lived here for a week” You told him, watching as the bartender busied himself with your group’s drinks, as well as the men’s beers. “And this is my first day working here, and right now you, Norman, are being a distraction”

He raised a bow, smile only growing across his lips as he spoke. “That’s just what I do best darling”

You placed the tray down on the bartop and assist the man in fitting both the bloodies and waters onto the platter, slowly and very carefully picking it up.

Norman stepped out your way, and as you shuffled past him you stopped to whisper in his ear. “I feel like there’s a lot else you do best” You murmured, flirtatiously winking and walking into your section, greeting the friend group with a smile.

“Got your drinks here folks, heard these things knock your socks off so good luck” You joke as you hand out straws, clicking your pen and flipping through your notepad. “Is everyone ready to order?” You press the tip of the pen into the paper, writing down the first order shouted out and going down the line. There was a simple mix of burgers and salads, a few people had special requests on how they wanted their food to be which you wrote underneath, small but big at the same time.

You collected their menus, letting them know you'd have their food out shortly and whisking away, dropping the menus off at the front and walking quickly to the kitchen, glancing at Javi who seemed to be conversing with Norman. You pushed the door open and huffed a sigh of relief when the men's food was sitting there waiting. Placing the tray down, you loaded the plates on the best you could, having to carry two of them out with your other hand, balancing one on your forearm.

Another waitress saw you as she entered the kitchen, and she politely held the door open for you, nodding as you thanked her on your way out.

"Not gonna drop that are you?" Javi questioned when you walked back past, causing Norman to turn and glance at you.

You continue walking away, a smirk pulling your lips. "Not if you stop talking" The feeling of eyes lingering on your back makes a chill run up your spine, and part of you swears that you can feel butterflies in your stomach.

The men see you approaching their table, and at first, they start cheering but quiet down when they realize you were balancing heavy plates, resuming their celebration once the food is safely placed on the table. You call out the names of dishes to find their rightful owner, watching the men grab their plates and eagerly start eating, satisfied groans sounding from the table. With that, you left them to eat and returned back to the family, who was chatting amongst themselves and seemed finished with their food, most of it half eaten.

"Would you guys like some to-go boxes?" You smile, and the mother nods, "Yes please, and you can bring the tab as well," mirroring the kind smile you gave her.

You informed her you'd be right back with that, quickly walking out of the section and to the kitchen, glancing around. "Where's Tyler?" You asked a nearby chef, and he furrowed his brows, tilting his head in confusion. You repeated your question, a little louder this time, and he made an 'O' face, pointing to the office. You thanked him, and made your way back there, knocking before creaking the door open.

"What are you doing?" You stare at her, sitting in the chair with a tall cup and her phone in her hand. "Wha'? I needed my coffee" She shrugged, a smile playing on her lips. "Talk to my beloved husband yet?" You rolled your eyes at that, stepping inside the office, but catching yourself. "Wait! Uh, my first table is ready to pay"

"Oh!" Tyler kicked herself off the chair, stretching and taking another sip of her caffeine. "C'mere, lemme show ya'" She said as she ushered you out. She led you through the kitchen, bringing you to a section behind the door you hadn't even noticed was there.

There was a computer with a list of waiters and waitresses on them, table numbers as well as totals on it. You spotted your name, and read the first tables total, which actually wasn't a bad price at all. "Jus' click tha', and then the huge print button" Tyler pointed, tapping the screen as she explained. The machine behind the computer whizzed to life, printing out a receipt. "They want boxes?" She questioned and you nodded, watching as she reached her hand down and pulled four to-go boxes out. You took them from her silently, blinking as if she had just performed a magic trick.

Tyler tore the receipt out of the machine, clicking her pen and scribbling something down. As she did, the machine began to print once again, and Tyler pulled out a slim booklet from underneath. "It prints twice 'cause tha' second receipt is tha' one tha' customer signs" She said as she took the paper out the machine, sticking it into the booklet, and handing it to you.

You took it from her with a smile. "Thanks. I did talk to Norman, and he's alright. Nothing too special" She gawked at your words, and started to playfully smack you with her hands. "Ugh! Ya' don' know wha' yer yappin' 'bout! Tha' man will change yer life" She harped, voice fading as you walked out the kitchen, lips stuck in a smile as you brought over your first tab of the night.

The rest of your shift went by with a breeze, the number of people coming in was now lessening and coming in pairs of two and four. It wasn't as busy anymore, and the air around seemed to be less tense.

You only had about one more hour left before you were done, and had about two tables still waiting for their food. You were ecstatic that your first night had gone by without any mishaps or complaints, having received generous tips from all your tables throughout.

On your way back to the kitchen to check on your last few orders, you spotted Norman sitting alone at the bar with a small drink in hand as he seemed to do something on his phone. You aren't sure what came over you, but you found yourself quietly approaching from behind.

"Shouldn't you be riding away in a limo back to your mansion?" He jumped slightly at the sudden sound of your voice, turning towards you with a small smile. "Maybe, but I didn't wanna leave without getting to know you better" You raised a brow at that. "Seriously? I'm just a waitress. Shouldn't you be like screwing around with models?"

Norman laughed at that, shaking his head a little. "Who's to say you aren't a model?"

"Well, aren't you just a real charmer" You giggled, feeling a heat rising to your cheeks. "What? You wanna take me home or something?" You said jokingly, standing more off to his side now.

You observed the look on his face, soft, interested, yet so dark. His piercing blue eyes shamelessly raked over your figure, tongue darting out over his lips. "Yeah. I really do" He whispered, eyes landing on yours. "Can I?"

"Not very celeb-like taking home staff don't you think?" You hummed, taking his drink and downing the rest, a mix between whiskey and coke. "It would be quite unprofessional for you to take me to your house when I get off in thirty minutes, very unprofessional indeed" You sensually mumbled, tossing him a final cheeky glance before disappearing into the kitchen, almost sprinting to the back office to go find Tyler, giddy smile tugging your lips.

Staring at his now empty glass, head resting in his hand, Norman couldn't help the way his stomach flipped, excitement and anticipation building up as your words rang out in his head.

Thirty minutes had felt like a whole other hour, and you heaved a sigh of relief when you finally clocked out, purse slung over your shoulder and your sweater draped over yourself in a puny attempt to shield yourself from the cold.

Tyler had almost flipped the table over when you told her, jumping off the walls and excitedly shaking you, squealing as she rambled about all the things she thought were gonna happen, yelling that you needed to tell her every detail afterward. She even downright begged for you to get some pictures.

She had already left in her car to go home, slamming the digits of her number into your phone and pulling you into a tight hug, telling you to be safe and text her as soon as you got to your next destination, threatening to send out a search squad.

You stood outside, mindlessly rolling a rock under your foot and swiping through Insta, starting to wonder if a literal A-list celeb had just totally played in your face. Minutes went by and you started to feel a little offended, rightfully so, deciding to start making your way back home instead of waiting around like an idiot. As you were walking, you texted Tyler that you were leaving, that he had just left instead. Cars passed by and obviously none seemed to belong to someone who would own a restaurant. You scoffed, annoyed but not surprised.

As you rounded the corner to the street of your apartment building, you just so happened to crash into somebody smoking a cigarette, of coursing falling onto your ass like a dumbfuck.

"Damn, tryna run away from me gorgeous?" Norman's light voice sounded, and you blinked your eyes into focus. "Been looking for you" You grumbled as he easily lifted you off the ground, taking a drag from the cigarette. "Sorry. I get bored sitting still for too long" He shrugged, smiling cheekily at you. "Ready to go?"

"Go where? My house is right there" You shook your head, gesturing towards the building.

Norman waved his hand, dismissing you. "Nah. Gonna take you for a little ride. C'mon," He took a final pull, stubbing his cig out on the wall and motioning for you to follow him.

He led you back down the sidewalk and a little distance from the restaurant, making easy and light conversation. It felt like you had known him forever with the way he casually joked around with you, your heart fluttering a little each time he laughed.

He walked you over to a sleek and shiny motorcycle, standing on the other side of it with his hand held out, offering you some help with climbing onto the back of his bike. "A romantic bike ride? And here I thought you had ghosted me" You laughed when he himself straddled the bike, the engine roaring to life.

"Ghosted? Someone like you? Never doll" Norman chuckled over the rumble of his bike, kicking the stand out and rolling out the parking lot, glancing both ways for any passing cars.

You wrapped your arms around his middle when he started to pick up speed, turning off Senoia's main road and revving the engine, motorcycle quickly shooting forward. "Not so fast!" You gasp, tightening your hold. He laughed, patting one of your hands with his. You put your head on his shoulder to get a better view of the road, catching a strong whiff of his very expensive-smelling cologne, an exotic herbal smell that attracted you to him more, a heat shooting down to your core.

Norman caught a glimpse of your lust-filling eyes in his side mirror, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he knew he was in for a treat tonight, almost instinctively revving his engine again to speed up, but obeyed your request to not go too fast. He drove with the flow of traffic, listening to you awe over the lights and buildings. "Ever been to Atlanta?"

"Atlanta? Wh-why are we going there?" You stammered, taken aback since well, that was bit of a distance.

"Oh no doll, we aren't going. Yer just back there 'oh'ing and 'awe'ing I figured not" Norman chuckled, laughing when you smacked his shoulder. "Hold on, we're almost there" This time he revved his engine again, weaving between cars.

It made you feel like a teenager again, getting whisked away at night to some random guys house for an hour or two of fun, just to be dropped off somewhere unknown but close to home. It brought you back to your early twenties also, the years having been filled with nothing but hungover days and drunken nights, latching onto some poor guy who was willing to buy you every shot you down, likely in hopes of getting laid.

Sitting on the back of Norman’s bike however, something your gut told you this would be a little more than just a plain hook-up. Tyler’s words rang out in your head, and you couldn’t help but start to wonder if this really would change your life.

The traffic on the road dispersed as he drove further out, eventually turning down a quiet and dirt road.

“Whoa, I ain’t about to get murdered am I?” You joked, but you were really asking.

Norman chuckled, squeezing your hand and even looping his fingers through. “Nah. I’d take you out somewhere pretty”

“You wanna take me out or take me to bed?” You wiggled your fingers in his hold as a mock wiggle of the brows.

“Maybe I wanna do both”

Jesus, this man was something else.

The dirt road continued out for a couple of miles out, gravel and rocks crunching under the spinning tires of his bike. The road seemed to be hidden by a tall grassy field and towering trees, the only sound interrupting the peace being the rumble of Norman’s engine.

He made another turn, the tall field of grass seeming endlessly as he drove until you could barely make out what looked like houses at the top of a field. Shit, maybe he really was gonna murder you?

Norman revved the engine and the motorcycle picked up speeds, whipping the cool country air into your face and probably messing up your tied hair. The large houses came closer into view, huge properties with cars in driveways and lights on. The houses were scattered, your next-door neighbor being about five normal houses away.

Norman rolled down the street at a slower speed as to not disturb his neighbors, approaching a dark and gated house. The gates opened after the man pressed a few buttons on his phone, the outside lights of the home fading on and making it look more welcoming.

The gates closed behind the two of you when he rumbled onto the large driveway, lazily parking his bike right where he was.

This time you didn’t need any help, swinging yourself off the motorcycle and immediately tossing your arms up to stretch as you stared at the literal mansion you were about to walk into.

“C’mon. Did you get a chance to eat?” Norman placed a hand on your hip and led you to the front door, some fancy thumbprint technology letting him in.

“Not yet,” You smile softly as you enter the home, standing in the boxed-off foyer. “I got whisked away before I could escape back home”

“Well, I surely didn’t bring you here to starve you. Take your shoes off, I’ll mix something up” Norman said as he took his own shoes off, socked feet quiet against his wooden floors.

You toed off your own shoes next to his and followed, staring in awe at the midsized entrance. Two staircases descended on either side, leading to an equally large-looking upstairs with a small balcony.

Straight ahead, there was an opening that led out to the spacious main area, tall industrial windows covered the walls in the living room, paired with ceiling-to-floor navy blue curtains tied back so as to probably let in the earlier sunlight. The kitchen was big as well, with dark and wooden cabinets matched to grey ash-colored granite counters with specs of black obsidian throughout.

You had never seen such a gorgeous home, marveling at how clean it was. It had a luxurious feel while still being homely at the same time, a few paintings and sculptures hung up on the walls, sitting on table tops.

“This place is beautiful,” You said after taking a minute to fully appreciate the decor, resting your hip against the counter. “Do you live here?” You placed your purse down.

Norman laughed from somewhere, rounding a corner with an expensive-looking bottle of whiskey. “For the moment. I’m usually out in New York, but I have to be here for some work” You watched as he poured two glasses, handing you one a small smile.

You clinked the glasses together and both threw them back, the liquid burning your throat as well as your chest. “What do you do for work?” You said as you cleared your throat.

“Well right now we’re shooting,” Norman said casually, turning and opening the large fridge.

“A movie?” You question, pulling at the collar of your shirt.

The man chuckled slightly, “Do you have any ideaa who I am?” turning to you with a playful smile tugging his lips.

You scoffed, cheeks heating up a little bit because, well, “No, not really. My co-worker seemed to be a fan though”

“Oh really now? What’d she tell you?” Norman quipped, chopping and tossing the ingredients for what you could see was a really stuffed chicken salad.

“That you were the sexiest guy in Hollywood” He laughed at that, and you couldn’t help but stare at his broad shoulders from behind, watching his back muscles as he fixed the food.

“Well?” He said after a minute, and you realized you had zoned out. “What?”

Norman glanced at you, a dark look in his blue eyes. “Do you agree with her?”

You stared at him for a moment, before slowly approaching, stopping only a few centimeters short from him.

“Make me agree with her” You whispered, batting your lashes as you ran your finger up his arm.

Norman halted his movements, staring at you before his eyes flickered down to your lips, not hesitating to lean down and kiss them.

“Ya’ ain’t got no clue what you’re askin’ for, doll” He rasped, disregarding the half-made salad as he gripped your waist, lifting you off your feet and onto the island top, slotting himself between your legs as he moved to capture your lips in another kiss, this one way more eager and heated.

You moaned softly into his mouth as his hands caressed and fondled your waist, sliding down to your hips and pulling you closer against him, pressed his bulge into your clothed cunt.

He kissed you calculated yet sloppily, tongue swirling around in your mouth as his fingers slipped under your uniform. You hooked an arm around the back of his neck and bit down on his bottom lip, hard enough to where he groaned painfully. “Come on, impress me already”

“Whadd’ya want from me?” Norman started to kiss and lick your neck, but you yanked his head back by his hair, for starters yanking the pokey sunglasses off. “I wanna see what you’ve got, maybe like,” You trailed a hand down his chest, pushing him hard so he stumbled into the counter behind him. “What you’ve got in your pants?”

You kicked yourself off the island, pulling the hair ties out your hair and fluffing it out, dropping down to crawl over to Norman, evil smile taking over your lips as you scratched your nails down his denim jeans, mouthing and placing open mouth kisses over his straining cock.

Norman groaned above you, “Think ya can handle it?” a hand coming down and tangling into your hair.

“Can you handle it?” You retort, taking the zipper of his jeans between your teeth and unzipping them, popping the button open.

You tugged his boxers down, very unexpectedly getting smacked in the face by his cock, a good thick eight inches. His tip was red and leaky, the veins running along his shaft pulsating. You had been with your fair share of big guys, but Norman was quite impressive, your fingers stretching when you wrapped them around him.

You gave him a few experimental strokes, playfully looking up at him through your lashes as you run your tongue from his balls, all the way up to the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it and taking it into your mouth, sucking the salty pre-cum off.

Norman’s hips jerked slightly, a mumble of curses falling from his lips as he tightened his grip on your hair. “M’not gonna be very nice to ya’ if you keep it up” He grunted, his face a little flushed.

“Didn’t want you to be nice in the place” You mused as you licked down the sides of his throbbing dick, smearing spit from your tongue as you went along. “Such a big cock but do you even know how to use it?”

Norman scoffed slightly, “Ya’ really don’t know who I am” rolling his hips when you took only his tip past your lips.

“Gonna show me?” You wiggled your butt a little, a surge of excitement coursing through you when rough hands gathered all your hair in one. “Yup, gon’ make you remember it too. Open that little bratty ass mouth wide” He tugged your head back, and you moaned, stretching open your lips as well curling your tongue inside your mouth.

Norman slowly slid himself inside, grunting at the warm wetness engulfing him as he leisurely rocked his hips, thrusting half his cock past your lips. There was an uncomfortable stretch the more he pushed in, a slight burning sensation as he worked himself in.

“I know this pretty throat can take a lot more, c’mon girl” Norman rasped, tilting your head further back and holding himself at his base, pushing in until his tip hit the back of your throat.

You relaxed your gag muscles, staring up at him innocently as you started to slide the head of his cock down, Norman letting out a thick hum as his grip in your hair tightened and his eyes fluttered, his hips jerking forward. He snapped the rest of his length suddenly down into your throat, a harsh grunt coming from him when your moan vibrated through him.

He pulled his hips back and sent them forward again, going smoothly back down in one thrust, repeating this action a few times. Norman watched how all his cock disappeared past your plush lips, nose nuzzled in his well-trimmed pubes before he pulls his hips back, leaving only the tip in before fully sliding right back down.

You squeezed your thighs together each time he plunged his cock into your mouth, eyes rolling shut as he started to increase his pace, only pulling himself out halfway now.

“Takin’ me so well gorgeous,” Norman said in a low, husky drawl. “S’like ya’ were made for this”

He was practically humping your face at this point, his own a bright shade of red as pants, and small gasps came from him, flat-out fucking your mouth. Each little noise that came from him made your cunt throb.

Speaking of throbbing, you could feel the way Norman’s cock was pulsating in your throat, deep and shaky grunts starting to come from him. His hips sped up, the sound of his balls slapping against your chin slightly echoing in the spaciousness, the soft gagging of his cock abusing your throat only heard between the two of you, followed soon by Norman’s heavy whimpers, grip on your hair impossibly tight.

His hips stuttered, cock twitching and spasming as he spilled deep inside your throat, trying your best to swallow but you sputtered around him, cum dribbling from the sides of your mouth.

Norman pulled himself out from your mouth, groaning softly at the cool air hitting his sloppy dick as it rested still painfully hard against your equally messy lips, gasping as you stared up at him.

“Impressed yet?” He raised a brow, out of breath himself.

You ran your tongue over your top lip, tasting his bitter release with a smile. “I thought you weren’t gonna be nice? I think you’re being quite boring if you ask me” You teasingly spoke.

Norman smirked, “Who said I was done? By the time m’done with ya’, your body will remember the shape of my cock” He said, snapping himself all the way back down into your throat, not wasting any time before he was fucking into it. He was still a little sensitive from his first orgasm, each bump of his tip pulling a husky whine from him.

It didn’t take long at all before he was already starting to get weak in the knees, each thrust feeling better than the last. He increased his pace, breathing picking up as small whimpers and gasps fell from his lips, a few final strokes before he was cumming down your throat, holding you flush against his navel as you swallowed the best you could.

He pulled out, leaving only the head of his cock on your tongue as he rutted against it, drawing out his orgasm until he was spent, cock softening when he pulled completely out.

You swallowed his load while staring right into his eyes, fluttering your lashes with your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“Salad can wait. I wanna see wha’s hidin’ under this uniform” Norman said as he suddenly leaned down, scooping you up and tossing you over a sturdy shoulder, strong arm keeping you secure by your middle.

You let out a high yelp at the change in position, bouncing slightly as he trudged out of the kitchen, tugging at your pants as he climbed the stairs. He tossed them somewhere for you to hunt down in the morning, letting out a satisfied chuckle at your round backside, smacking a bubbly cheek. You giggled around a moan, especially when he firmly squeezed that cheek and spread it, helping himself to the view of your soaked panties, a dark red with black lace.

He pushed open a door to a huge and luxurious bedroom, the bed he dropped you on feeling like a cloud pulled straight out of the sky. Norman tore his shirt off, you doing the same as he dipped down, dragging his lips and teeth across your dark skin, sucking and biting as he explored your exposed collarbone.

You groaned and shamelessly wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him down to feel his already-hardening cock against your wet heat. Norman seemed to have something different in mind.

“Wanna sit on my face, sweet girl?” He murmured into your ear, brushing curly hair out your face. “Did so well fer me, gotta return the favor”

“You don’t gotta ask me twice,” You said in a honeyed voice, using your legs to flip your positions.

Norman landed with a small sound, looking up at you as you rolled your hips down on where you had his cock trapped between your two bodies. His hands traveled up to your waist, caressing and fondling the deep skin.

You looked like a goddess straddling him, curly hair flowing everywhere and framing your upper half, Norman’s eyes flickering down to your black bra where your tits were practically spilling out. You crawled towards his face, dragging your core heat up his abs and pressing it on his chest, towering angelically above him.

“I hope you don’t disappoint me” You tease, lifting yourself up onto your knees as you stuff your panties to the side, heart racing a little.

Norman licked his lips, hands squeezing your hips as he watched you toy with your clit. “Wouldn’t be able to forgive myself” He whispered, tugging you towards him.

You lowered yourself down, Norman more so pulling you down onto his waiting tongue, licking a warm stripe up your aching cunt, a pleased moan coming from you as you gripped the headboard, rolling your hips.

He started at your clit, flattening his tongue and giving the puffy bundle of nerves multiple hard licks, waves of electricity shooting through all your limbs, down to your tightly curled toes. He took the small bud into his mouth, sucking hard and rubbing the tip of his tongue against the raw nerves, making you gasp and rut down onto him.

Norman seemed to be enjoying himself, soft groans of his own coming from him as he started to slide his tongue between your folds, teasing your entrance before swirling around your clit, repeating the action a few more times. He used his grip on your hips to steadily rock you back and forth in time with his deep licks.

Eventually, he slid his tongue all the way inside your hole, curling it as well as thrusting it in and out. “Mmm, fuck yes, keep using that fucking tongue in me” You were almost bouncing on his face at this point, passionately moaning as he curled the wet muscle into you, harshly licking as his nose bumped against your clitoris.

His hands encouraged your movements, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass as he plunged his tongue as deep into you as he could. His cock twitched and needily ached, hips slightly jerking upward into the air. You ground your clit down on the tip of his nose, body rolling as he worked you closer and closer to the edge.

Norman could feel you clenching around his tongue, deciding to speed up your nearing orgasm by suddenly slipping out you, replacing his nose on your clit for his tongue, and filling your back up with two thick fingers, blissfully curling right into your sweet spot. You moaned loudly as one of your hands tangled in his hair, gripping roughly. Your body trembled as he fingered you in time with his tongue, bone-crushing weight washing over you as your hole spasmed around his wiggling digits, grinding down on his tongue until you just couldn’t take it anymore, groaning as you could feel your used cunt leaking juices all over his hand and face.

You were both gasping for air when you lifted yourself onto wobbly knees, Norman’s fingers slipping out as you kept yourself steady by gripping the headboard with both hands.

“Are ya’ impressed now?” He asked, audibly out of breath as he licked your slick from his glistening lips.

You scoff, smiling down at him. “A little, but I’d like to get to the main course now,” You said, swinging a leg and crawling off from above him. “No more side dishes”

Norman watched as you discarded the drenched pair of panties somewhere in the room, landing on the wooden floor with a small slap. You yanked your socks up, taking a needed second to ball them together before tossing them as well, starting to grab at Norman’s unbuttoned pants.

He helped kick them off, murmuring to you as he tugged his own socks off. “Forgot ta’ take yer bra doll”

“That’s your job, mister famous” You chuckle as he comes up behind you, hands exploring your bare melanin skin as they run up your sides, climbing and cupping your breast, circling to your back to unclasp the bra hooks. He threw the final piece of garment onto the floor, pulling you flush against his front.

He started sucking on your neck, one of his hands fondling your tit while the other snaked down to toy with your puffy clit. He rubbed his cock between your cheek, biting and licking his way to your shoulder. He pinched and rolled your nipple with his fingers, trailing his lips up the side of your neck and nibbling on your pulse.

You moaned softly when his hand dropped your tit, coming up to brush your hair out the way, gathering it in a tight but gentle grip as he tugged your head back onto his shoulder, dragging his tongue across your newly exposed throat, up the underside of your jaw till he reached your lips, capturing them in his.

Norman’s cock twitched against you when your hand joined the one still fingering your clit, scratching his skin with your nails gingerly as he slowly kissed you, deep and lustful. You blindly reached your hand behind yourself and felt around for his dick, a small grunt coming from him when your fingers grazed his tip. “Ya’ ready fer me?” He murmured against your lips.

“Been ready since I got here” You sass, dropping down onto your elbows with round hips in the air. “You better fuck me like you mean it”

A hand landed on your ass, Norman’s other still holding up your hair, grip a little tighter now as he burned the image of your arch into his head, the hand he spanked you with spreading your cheek, thumbing your pussy as he pressed his tip to your entrance, greedily sucking him in.

He was big, but you were so wet and dripping to the point he just completely slid in, unrestrained groan coming out his chest as his entire cock was swallowed up and wrapped in your squishy walls, almost immediately starting to find a rhythm with his hips.

Norman’s fingers curled into the fat flesh of your ass, “Takin’ all of m’so goddamn well baby girl, could fuck this pussy for fuckin’ days” spreading you apart so he could watch the way his cock was sliding into you and blissfully stretching you open.

“Pound me already, I thought you were gonna be a meanie tonight” You drawl as you roll your head from side to side, pushing back needily against him.

He gripped your hair at the roots suddenly, yanking it roughly to pull you up onto your arms, almost pulling himself all the way out before slamming right into a sensitive bundle of nerves, mewl of pleasure racking your body as he started to relentlessly and mercilessly thrust into your body, so deep that you thought he was actually in your stomach for a moment.

You gasped and sputtered as he pulled you back by your hair in time with his harsh hips, huffing as he started to fuck you with all his strength. Each slam of his hips sent his cock flying into your cervix, each one leaving you more breathless than the last. “Got real quiet all of a sudden girl. This wha’ ya’ want?”

Norman’s fingers were fisted in your hair, the sound of skin slapping against skin reverberated in the large room, bed quietly squeaking as he railed you, watching how each forward thrust of his hips made your ass bounce, a wet sound coming from where his balls slapped against your clit.

“Yes, Oh fuck yes,” You mewl, eyes rolling back as your toes curled. “Harder, I know you can fuck me so much harder” Norman groans at your words, yanking you back onto your knees flush against his front and wrapping a hand around your throat, dropping his grip in curly hair to tightly grip your hip, jamming the entirety of his cock into your body, poking spots you didn’t even know were there.

He quickly resumed his unforgiving pace, pounding into you so deep and so rough, you choked out small sobs with each hit of his tip, gasping as you started to lose air. It was everything Tyler told you it would be and more, dots starting to cloud your vision and prickle under your skin, clenching as you could feel each thrust send you further and further to the edge.

You can tell Norman can feel it too, resting his sweaty forehead against your shoulder as he starts to lose rhythm slightly, pace not faltering as his cock twitches inside you, so tight and hot, your cunt squeezing his full dick like never before. It made Norman’s head fuzzy and a little dizzy, fueling the buzz he had from the earlier alcohol, though he only had about maybe three drinks total tonight. He was purely drunk off your body, letting out a soft whimper as he throbbed, on the verge of his orgasm.

“Feels so good, don’ wanna pull out of ya’…” Norman mumbled as he rocked himself into you, grunting when his tip nudged against your cervix. “Might just hafta’ stuff ya’ beautiful”

You rolled your head back onto his shoulder, his grip around your throat loosening as you cheekily smiled. “Yes please, let’s make a mess” Norman mirrored your expression before reaching down and capturing your lips in a deep kiss, swirling his tongue around yours.

He pulled his hips back, leaving only the tip in before sliding all the way back inside, hungrily groaning into your mouth as he repeated the action, downright stroking his cock using your cunt. "Jus' gonna let me to fill this pretty pussy? Pump you full of all my cum?" Norman groaned, increasing his pace as his hot mouth landed on your neck, his teeth and beard scraping the skin as he continued his deep strokes, still pounding blissfully into you.

"God yes, give it all to me" You moan, rough fingers coming back up to your hair. Norman forcefully pinned your upper half down into the fluffy sheets, his other hand firmly gripping your ass as he fucked into you like an animal, shoving his whole dick into your cunt from tip to base. You let out a high keen with every unforgiving thrust, each one sending you a little closer to the edge.

Norman huskily panted, whimpering a little as he sped up, this time pulling you back onto his cock to meet his hips as he started to really fuck you, now railing into you with all his strength. Uncontrolled whines came from you, eyes rolling as his hand tightly gripped your scalp, each loud slap of his pelvis against your backside sent you lurching forward, only to be yanked back by the fistful of curly hair.

Your walls were practically milking his cock, so warm and wet around him, greedily sucking him in with every thrust, squeezing the entirety of his length as he increased his pace even more, letting out unrestrained gasps and grunts as his hips begin to stutter in their rhythm. “Fuck m’gonna fuckin’ cum” Norman chokes out, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he groaned with each hot drag of your cunt, cock twitching and throbbing inside you as he fucked himself closer and closer over the edge. “Jus’ keep fuckin’ takin’ me doll, takin’ me so damn well”

His words made you tighten up around him, and it was all he need to fly off the handle, tossing his head back as his hips sputtered, cock slipping out of your stretched hole with an audible pop, Norman softly groaning as he came all over your twitching pussy, suddenly pushing himself inside and letting out a loud, shaky whimper, fingers curling in your hair as he started to fuck into you again, followed by the filthy squleching of Norman’s cock sliding into your ruined cunt, his cum becoming a creamy mess were it was being pushed in and out, dribbling down your folds to your clit where his balls slapped lewdly against.

“So fucking good for me, ya’ve got such a perfect pussy ‘could fuck you all day” Norman purred, dipping his head down to latch onto the skin of your already marked shoulder, sinking his teeth into the flesh and shuddering when he seemed to slip impossibly deeper into you. His hand fell from your hair, both palms falling firmly on either side of your head. "Feels like a goddamn dream" He snapped forward, breathing hot in your ear and gently nibbling on it. One of your hands wrapped around his wrist, helpless gasps falling from you with each drag of his cock, feeling the throbbing veins which each thrust.

Your nails curled into his skin, eyes fluttering shut as your second orgasm built rapidly in your gut, whines of pleasure spilling past your lips. You couldn't even speak, each hard snap of his hips knocking the words straight out your chest. Norman roughly groaned in your ear, hotly kissing and licking at your bare shoulder. You were both so close, it only fueled his animalistic pace as he sped up.

Norman fisted the comforter in his hands, the skin tingling and raw from where you dug into it, little half-crescents decorating the back of his hand, and puffy lines sprouting blood on his arm, sweet sobs coming from you with every jab of his cock. Norman buried his sweaty face into the crook of your neck, sucking and biting the skin, his beard scratchy as he trailed his lips up to your pounding pulse. A breathy, shaky whimper came from him as he stuttered in his movements, pressing himself deep as he spilled into you for the second time, capturing your kiss in a greedy and heated kiss, moaning into each other's mouth as he drew out your shared orgasm.

When he pulled out with a slick pop, softly humming as the cold air hit his cock, you were both thoroughly fucked and completely worn out, panting heavily with Norman still halfway on top of you.

“Are ya' impressed yet?” He huffed out, a smirk forming on his face as he tugged your head back.

With a deep exhale and a small smile playing on your lips, you looked over at him with heavy, satisfied eyes. "I guess I am"

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Okay, I absolutely LOVED writing this request. It practically consumed my life lol. I would definitely be open to more reqs like this where there’s a little bit of a plot, even though I already have so many that are unanswered 🥲🥲🥲

I was really nervous about posting this because I’m just not a fan of the ending but at this point all I can do is hope for the best

THAT BEING SAID If people are also interested in sending in more Norman requests… 🥶🧏🏾‍♀️ y’know where to hmu babe

ALSO SHOUTOUT TO MY FAV POOKIE TYLER WHO DIDNT EVEN KNOW I WAS USING HER AS A WAITRESS I LOOVE YOOU BABYGIRL MY OLDER SISSY FR 😝

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

[stabortega]

SAM CARPENTER HCS — HAVING A CRUSH ON SAM

Summary: How would Sam react if her sister's best friend happened to have a crush on her.

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader.

Warnings: SFW. Implied fem reader, she/her pronouns used. MDNI.

Author's note: First post, let me know what you think!

MASTERLIST.

Let me just start off by saying that; it happened SO fast.

You and Tara started hanging out after some stupid essay you both needed to write together.

And naturally, like everyone else, you knew who she was, and what she had to do.

But that didn't mattered after you and her started bonding like two peas in a pod, and when you realized; you were hanging out with her every single day.

Before class, after class, on the weekends.

You both have gotten pretty close and that was something Tara appreciated; having a real, true friend who was untouched by all of her mess.

And then we had Sam.

Or, Tara's older sister who stalked her like Ted Bundy.

I mean... After what happened, Sam had her reasons and her issues. No one could be trusted 100%.

And that was exactly what she thought about you the minute Tara brought up you guys' friendship.

"You're talking about her as if she was some psychopathic murderer who's waiting for the right moment to kill us all, Sam!" Tara whined, looking at her sister with disapprovement in her eyes.

"Well, she could be! Do you know where she lives? Her last name? Where does she even work, Tara? I'm not letting you be friends with someone who you, literally, met like 2 seconds ago."

So, naturally, Tara had to invite you over.

Mostly to piss Sam off? Yes.

Also, to show her sister that she had NOTHING to worry about? Yes, as well.

And you?

After the first time you've laid your eyes on her, you knew you had to make her your girlfriend.

You started to find any excuse to hang out at Tara's just so you could look at that pretty face for a little while.

And I mean, can you blame her??? Like???

She's tall, she's handsome, her eyes look like they're about to eat you alive and you were so fucking down for that.

You couldn't stop thinking about her. You did it at home, at school, even when you showered.

The last page of your notebook was FILLED with tiny hearts with her name written inside.

But when Tara found out, oh boy.

"I cannot believe you have a crush on my sister, (Y/N)." Tara said, while looking at you as if you said you were part of a satanist cult. "Like, she's... She's Sam!"

"Exactly my point, Tara! She's just so unapologetically herself..." And then you felt a pillow being thrown on your face.

Tara couldn't fathom that someone saw her sister as an actual person, let alone have a crush on her??

But that didn't stopped her from teasing you every fucking chance she could.

"Can you focus on this paper or you're too busy eye-fucking my sister, (Y/N)?"

"That's Sam's towel, do you wanna take it so you can put it in your shrine?"

And Sam? She had her eye on you, as well.

Maybe because you were a stranger, under her roof, locked in a room with her little sister doing god knows what.

But she couldn't deny that you were extremely attractive, as well.

And, someday, you might tell her about your feelings.

[leonawriter]

To add to "Hakuba wasn't the one throwing the most shade at Hattori," I'm heading into the case itself, since I didn't last time.

Let's start with the fact that Hattori found blood on the doorknob and instantly tried to knock the door down. Hakuba, Junya, and Natsuki all look shocked, Natsuki even saying "Hey, wait a-"

Shinichi's the only one who isn't shown protesting, but he's also not shown actively helping to break down the door. He's right there, yes, but going just by the manga alone, we don't see him in action.

Later on, we get this-

Once Hakuba's said about how the "producer" was still alive, Hattori unties him.

Closely followed by...

First Junya, then Hakuba, saying that he's done things wrong. That he's incompetent.

In fact, Junya says "Even if [Hattori] is a very incompetent detective" while Hakuba says "I'll admit that your actions were unacceptable."

Of the two statements, Junya's is the more offensive to me - there's a difference between "unacceptable actions" and calling someone "incompetent." For instance, Detective Yamamura of the Gunma police is "incompetent" because he barely meets the base criteria to be a police officer, let alone someone in charge of a crime scene. Hattori isn't on that level. His actions were, however, unacceptable.

Moving on, and we see Hakuba point out, in detail, why they should have taken their time.

It's Junya, again, who goes on the offensive, assuming that Hattori was "[eager] to reach the crime scene before anyone else" and "not suited for being a detective." Hakuba says neither of these things. He's judgemental, yes, but he doesn't make things personal.

Funnily enough, Shinichi has a damn good point here. It ISN'T that Hattori is unsuited to being a detective! He is, however, hot-blooded, which does affect how he goes about things.

That isn't a bad thing, all of the time, and if it was, then Shinichi would have been joining the others in criticising Hattori. Thing is, Shinichi knows Hattori, and neither overly defends him (they're kinda right, after all) nor attacks him further (he knows why Hattori is how he is).

Later-

By this point, Hakuba has already seen Hattori acting "rashly" and "not thinking things through" so he feels he has a good reason to make remarks like these.

After that, however, when they do find the person they're after, he's visible from the outside, leaning against the window, bleeding.

This time, it's Hakuba who suggests going back inside and busting the door open, but before he can, Hattori is jumping up to bust through the window.

We're shown him breaking the glass, then unlocking the bolt on the window, in order to get in - unlike the first time, where it's just "bust open, get in."

In other words, we're shown his process.

What's important, to me at least?

Once the investigation gets underway, and now that Junya (rest in fucking pieces, dipshit) is out of the way, Hattori and Hakuba are... able to talk to each other with far more civility.

Sure, there's some checking of "you didn't mess something up again, did you?" but that's a valid question that one of them would ask during any other investigation as well, at some point or other.

That said...

It's only after they've done their preliminary investigation and the actual suspects are mostly out of the way that Hakuba suggests that Hattori be kept away from the crime scenes, since when he's been involved, the crime scene has been messed up, damaged, and... he's basically made a mess of it.

Thing is, this is where it's viable for them to have come to loggerheads with each other!

Hakuba is cool-headed and logical, while Hattori is hot-blooded and emotional.

I've even said before about how they're written as narrative foils to one another, being the rivals and closest male friends of their respective protagonists!

That said... for all that they butt heads here, they're back to collaborating not long after.

And when one of them brings up a point, the other listens. Hakuba doesn't discredit what Hattori's saying just because he's hot-blooded, and Hattori doesn't ignore what Hakuba's saying just because he doesn't like the guy/has bias against him.

On to the finale, and each of our detective protagonists has a different conclusion.

Hattori explains his idea of who the culprit is, only to be cut off by Hakuba, who comes in with his own, in a very disparaging way - "How many more times must you disappoint me," he says, only to be proven wrong and realise that he'd been letting his own bias (that a thief must be the culprit) get in the way of his deductions. Hattori continues with his explanation, which Shinichi tries to say "no, you're wrong!" about... only to prove that he knew exactly what he was doing and catch the real killer trying to hide evidence.

Effectively, this all proves that Hattori is just as good of a detective as any of the rest of them, especially so given the culprit's words at the end:

In other words: those things were done on purpose, knowing what kind of person Hattori is, and she respects him for being the kind of person who hopes that the victim is alive until proven dead. Who hopes for life, more than just another mystery to solve.

In this point here, as well as in assuming that the culprit had to be the same person as the thief, Hakuba is wrong, because he assumed that acting in a "hot-blooded" way was wrong since doing so would disrupt the crime scene.

What he should have been worrying about - and I wonder if this was a minor lesson for him - was "is the person inside still hanging onto life, and if they are, will taking the long route around take too long, and cause them to die?"

So, in these later parts, we do see that:

1 - It isn't even Hakuba, even after Hattori has said things that would legitimately upset him, who throws the first stone in antagonising him.

2 - It's only after seeing behaviour that could be seen as "rash" that Hattori hadn't thought through (unfitting of a detective) that he starts to bite back.

3 - They still work together with respect whenever it's about the actual investigation, and at no point do they get in each other's way, and-

4 - When Hakuba makes a mistake about his deductions, as well as when admitting no one knows where he is, for one thing he accepts his mistakes with grace, and for another thing Hattori doesn't gloat about it.

I wouldn't say that things are mended between them - first impressions count for a lot, and they didn't have a good one no matter how you look at it - but I'd hardly say that they have a non-functioning working relationship, or that they'd constantly be at each other's throats.

[hollandorks]

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter two

Summary: After the sudden deaths of your mother and grandmother, you’re forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke your heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, you vow to get to the bottom of your former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what you’re expecting. a

a/n: I have like six chapters written and a rough (mental) outline of the next four or so, so I'm going to keep posting pretty frequently! I mostly want to get these first few posted to get a nice foundation going...and also because I'm greedy for the attention. Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

word count: 2.5k

Her childhood bedroom was exactly as she had left it three years ago, free of dust, the linens on the bed so fresh she could still smell the detergent. 

She threw herself onto the bed and finally let herself cry.

The funerals were a small, somber affair two days later. 

Y/n’s mother’s only guests were her sponsor, a distant cousin she had been close with, and a neighbor. Dory’s guests included Bruce and Alfred, along with a few friends, her sister, and her niece and her family. Though the number of guests were few, y/n knew her grandmother was well loved. 

As the sermon commenced, y/n found herself aching for just one more hug, one more story, one more smile. 

And her mother…the grief for her was unexpected and sharp. She had been a bad mother, yes, but in recent years she’d made an effort. She got help for her addictions. Apologized. Sent the occasional card or letter. Took her own mother to appointments when y/n was too much of a coward to face Bruce. 

She couldn’t stop the tears, but she hung on every word said over them in goodbye. She wanted to speak for them, to say her own goodbye, but she couldn’t bring herself to. It was too hard. The hardest thing she’d ever done. 

And when Alfred stepped up to the podium, his kind words made her choke on emotion, her muffled sob echoing in the space despite her best efforts to smother it. 

She half expected Bruce to comfort her, to try to make her laugh like he had when they were young. But he made sure Alfred sat between them, the space yawning wide like a chasm instead of the length of a single chair. When she glanced over at him, his eyes were on her, his hands bunched into tight fists on top of his knees. 

Were those…bruises across his knuckles? She frowned even as he continued to watch her. Well, he had gone through a street racing phase when they were in high school. Maybe he was into boxing now. She had no way of knowing. 

She met his eyes once more and her already broken heart broke a little more when he turned away without a word. 

She ached for one more smile, one more hug, from Bruce as much as from her grandmother. It was another type of grief, but worse because she could get those things, if only their relationship was still alive. He was there, he was alive, but he was just as far away as the two people in the coffins before her were. 

After the funerals and the reception at her grandmother’s church, y/n followed Alfred and Bruce out of the elevator at Wayne Tower. It felt as if she had aged ten years in the span of three days. Her steps were heavy as she trudged towards her room. Tomorrow, she thought tiredly, she would have to go through her grandmother’s things. Alfred told her that she didn’t have to, that everything could stay as it was–but she knew that she had infringed upon Bruce Wayne’s generosity for too long already. 

In her own room again, she tried to go to sleep. It wasn’t late, but she was exhausted, and she wanted her brain to turn off for a little while. She didn’t want to think, to remember, to go over every single thing she would never get to do again with her grandmother. She didn’t want to think about Bruce’s gaze on her at the funeral, his hands in fists, his lips pressed tightly together. 

She had lost everyone who loved her, except for Alfred. 

The loneliness and the grief were sharp in her chest. 

Hours later, she was still awake. 

With a groan, she rolled over, defeated. It was nearly midnight. 

She stood and changed into something more comfortable. 

She needed to get out. Out of the place of so many memories, good and bad. Every moment in Wayne Tower was like being chased by ghosts. One moment, she saw herself and Bruce at eight years old, chasing each other up and down the stairs. In the next, she saw her grandmother teaching her how to properly carry a tray of tea to Mr. and Mrs. Wayne. In the next, she heard Bruce’s angry words echo off of the vaulted ceiling as he broke her heart. 

Y/n shuddered as she walked towards the elevator that would take her down and out. 

“Where are you going?” a gruff voice asked, nearly making her scream. 

She whirled around. Bruce was half-hidden in the shadows. 

“Out,” she said, feeling oddly like a teenager again. Dory and Alfred had caught her sneaking out many a night. Somehow, they’d never caught Bruce, but always caught her. She had that same guilty feeling now, spreading sticky fingers through her like a flush of heat. 

Bruce stepped into the weak light from the lamp on the entry table. “Out where?” 

“God, what are you, my father?” she asked with a roll of her eyes. “Just out, Bruce.” 

“In Gotham?” he asked, incredulity coloring his tone. His dark eyebrows disappeared into the lengths of his hair. “It’s too dangerous.” 

“Never stopped me before,” she said with a shrug. She missed him so much she relished each word he gave her, even if they were a reprimand. She needed to leave before she got stuck in an argument with him–or worse, cried. “See you later.” 

She hit the button for the elevator and startled all over again when Bruce grabbed her wrist. She hadn’t heard him close the distance between them. How could someone so tall and broad move so silently, she wondered. And then she realized that he was touching her bare skin, and electricity crackled up her arm. 

She wanted to lean into him. God, she missed him.

But then he ruined the moment. “No. It’s too dangerous, y/n.” 

Anger rose within her, wild and unstoppable and full of thorns. She bristled at it. “I don’t care.” She yanked her arm away and stepped into the now-open elevator. Even three years away couldn’t tamper the hurt she still felt. It was as fresh at it had been the day he’d ripped out her heart. “I can’t stand to be in this place another second.” 

He took a step forward too, blue eyes blazing. “Let me at least–” 

“You’ve done enough,” she snapped. The words seemed to stun him into stillness. Which worked for her, because then the doors slid closed, and she was whisked down and away, just like she wanted. 

She slumped against the far wall of the elevator, suddenly tired again. She wondered if Bruce was watching her on the security camera she knew was in the upper left corner. She knew he was trying to look out for her–he always had, even as kids when he was much smaller and scrawnier than her–and she had thrown it back in his face. But she was so damn tired. Tired of pretending like she wasn’t hurting. Of pretending like she could look him in the eyes without remembering how much she loved him. Of pretending like things might ever be able to go back to the way they used to be. Of pretending like she wasn’t fucking lonely.

Cold air assaulted her as she stepped outside of the tower. The security guard had barely given her a second glance. She was an adult now and not technically sneaking out, so he didn’t care what she did. 

It smelled like it had rained recently or would rain again soon. 

She inhaled deeply. Something in her settled. Gotham might stink like any other city but it was a familiar kind of stink. Almost comforting. And the damp smell underneath it was another comfort, one Bludhaven didn’t have to offer with its drier climate. 

Y/n turned and walked off with no direction in mind. Maybe she’d stop by the diner on the corner three blocks away. She and Bruce had eaten many a late night meal there. She hadn’t had dinner, either, and was suddenly ravenous. Had she eaten lunch? She couldn’t remember eating anything before leaving for the funerals. 

She made sure to keep aware of her surroundings because, as much as she hated to admit it, Bruce was right. Gotham was dangerous. It always had been. It didn’t matter that there was some freak in a bat costume running around, either. He could only do so much. And it didn’t matter that a lot of the corruption had been rooted out by that serial killer, Edward Nashton, the man called the Riddler. Gotham had a way of turning even the best of people into something rotten. It was only a matter of time before another guy in a costume showed up or another mayor turned bad. 

Y/n’s mind turned to the bat guy as she scanned the shadows around her. Maybe she’d get lucky, catch a glimpse. She had read a lot of op-ed articles over the past three years while he’d been active. She wasn’t sure what to make of him. She had to admit, he was doing good for the city. One article in particular came to mind–an interview with Lieutenant James Gordon at the GCPD. He apparently worked with the Batman often and they had caught the Riddler together. 

One line in particular stood out to her. Those days, in a city where I wasn’t sure who to trust on my own team, I trusted him. 

And somehow, this Lieutenant Gordon had avoided being a target of the Riddler, which had to count for something. Because as psycho as he was, Nashton had targeted the corrupt. Well, except for Bruce Wayne. She still couldn’t forgive him for trying to blow up Bruce and almost succeeding with Alfred. 

She slipped into the diner, busy despite the late hour, her mind still swirling with thoughts of serial killers and vigilantes and cops.  

She took the last free booth in the corner, the cold night air following her inside. An old jazz song hummed in the background and the air smelled like bacon and burnt toast. Her stomach announced its emptiness again, loudly. 

She was still thinking of the vigilante as she placed her order with an older waitress with hair the color of wine. 

What was to stop the Batman from becoming like the Riddler? They both had taken justice into their own hands and only one was in prison. The Batman hadn’t killed anyone….that they knew of. So why did the city laud him and crucify the other? 

Although, she thought as she dug into her stack of chocolate chip pancakes, there had been protests and riots in regards to the Riddler. Enough people had believed in him that a group of them had tried to shoot up Gotham Square Garden in the floods. 

Her head was pounding now. The part of her brain that made her a good reporter was latching on to the idea of vigilantes and the line between good and bad. She wanted to write an op-ed article herself, but her thoughts on the matter weren’t original in the slightest. 

Maybe, while she was in the city, she’d run into the vigilante and ask for an interview. In a city of criminals like Gotham, the chances were relatively high of seeing the vigilante at least once. 

She snorted quietly to herself. That was an unoriginal thought if there ever was one. She would bet money that any reporter worth their salt had tried and failed to interview the Batman. Which probably had involved at least a few getting into trouble on purpose. And still, nothing on his identity. Hell, even his friend Lieutenant Gordon was pretty tight lipped about him, despite telling the world how much he trusted the vigilante. 

“Hey,” she asked her waitress as she brought the receipt over. The cracked vinyl seat creaked as she leaned forward. “Ever seen that Batman guy? I’m from out of town, so…” She shrugged, gave a coy smile. 

It was technically the truth. She’d been gone for three years, and in that short amount of time, Gotham had birthed all kinds of crazies, including the Batman and the Riddler. It was a running joke in Bludhaven, who only had “normal” criminals. 

The waitress shrugged. “I haven’t ever seen him, no. But it makes me feel better working so late, knowing he’s out there.” She inserted y/n’s card into a handheld credit card machine. 

Y/n nodded and chewed her lip. “How do you know he’s on your side, though? That Riddler guy last year did alright, up until the flooding and the shooting.” 

The waitress’s expression soured. “Batman’s never killed anyone, good or bad. Ever since he became…you know, a vigilante…he never killed anyone. Ask around and you’ll eventually find someone he saved from a mugging or an armed robbery. Or, more likely, someone he helped when all the higher ups left us to fend for ourselves in the floodwaters.” 

“Wow,” y/n said after a moment. The waitress had…fierce opinions about the vigilante. “I didn’t realize he was so…loved.” 

The woman shrugged again. She handed the card and receipt over. “I’m just saying, he looks out for the little guy.” 

Y/n absently tapped her bank card on the table. “Well, that’s good to know. Maybe I’ll see him out there, yeah?” She laughed lightly. 

“Probably better than you don’t, because then that means he’s saving you from something.” The waitress winked and went to another of her tables. 

Y/n was really itching to write an article now. Wouldn't it be great if she were the one to get to the bottom of the mystery surrounding the Batman? Maybe her editor would loan her out to the Gotham Tribune or another newspaper for a special assignment. 

She scoffed quietly as she got up to leave. They would simply tell her the truth–there wasn’t anything special enough about her to be the one to succeed where so many others had failed. The only special thing about her was that she had been raised alongside a billionaire. A billionaire who didn’t even want to be her friend anymore.

As she stepped out of the diner, she turned left instead of right. Right would have led her to Wayne Tower, and she definitely wasn’t ready to go back. Talking to the waitress about the vigilante had lit an all too familiar fire within her. The kind of fire that usually burned her, but always led to a hell of a good story by the end. 

The kind of fire that made her do stupid things, like stop when she heard a muffled sound from the end of an alley. 

The kind of fire that made her sneak forward, into the shadows, to see several men huddled over two other figures. 

The two on the ground were both hooded and bound with hands behind their backs. But one was slumped over while one was still on their knees. 

And that same fire gave y/n her first burn as she took out her phone and started recording. 

There was another muffled sound and she finally placed exactly what it was as the second hooded figure slumped against the first. It was a gun–a gun with a silencer. When she realized, she made her next mistake. 

She gasped.

And every head–four of them, all men–turned to look at her.

Next Chapter

taglist:

@ktficworld @grunge-n-roses5 @anon-cat-posts @projectdreamwalker @slovakshadow

[linddzz]

Here an assortment of Facts About Morpheus in the Red Flags AU. Where I'm starting to lean more towards the version where they meet and are already into each other before the ""Fake Date"" Incident:

-Jessamy is the raven he took care of when he found her injured outside of his townhome. He now has a room with a window he often keeps open for her to fly into whenever she feels like it. I don't know how legal any of this is in London but tbh it doesn't matter because he also does not know what the laws are and doesn't care.

- His townhome is very dark maximalist in decor, which tends to surprise people at first. There are houseplants and little statues all over, and the walls are hidden behind millions of bookshelves. There is an art studio room and books scattered everywhere. Very recently, hypothetical visitors would notice a lot of child locks and child proofed areas that have a bit of a panicked "I bought every safety thing in the store bc I have no idea wtf I'm doing" energy to them.

- He has a therapist. Yes, the Morpheus that Hob meets is the upgraded version who is actually working on himself already. This is what the improved personal growth version of Morpheus is like.

Anyway, said therapist is Gilbert F. Greene. Because Morpheus going head to head with an unstoppable force of old timey adorable optimism who will also not take his shit is delightful. Dr. Greene insists on going by first names and Morpheus always makes "Gilbert" sound like a slur in retaliation. Some conversations I imagine include:

"Good morning Gilbert, you will never guess who had what you might call a """relapse into self destructive behaviors"""" last night."

"I am very sorry to hear that my dear boy. Let me say though, that I am so very proud of you for calling me! That is a phenomenal step for you and it's wonderful that you are being proactive in your recovery."

"Don't patronize me Gilbert. I will hang up."

(this ended up being super long so I'm just gonna spare y'all's dash. Warning for some lightly touched on mentions of drug use and self destructive behavior.)

- Him getting a therapist was part of the requirements for gaining visitation rights and then weekend custody once a month with Orpheus. The therapy is actually helping, and he's bitter about that.

- His given name is actually Dream, he goes by his middle name. All the Endless siblings have awful names. Desire goes by Adonai because who calls a fucking child Desire???

When Hob meets the rest of the family, Destiny goes "it's good to see you again, Dream" and Hob begins turning to Morpheus like "lmao who tf is named Dream" only to find Morpheus glaring daggers at his brother.

- The Endless parents are rarely around. Some of the siblings still live in the manor and they all use it for family dinners, but it's common for their parents to be off travelling for years at a time.

- Morpheus is an author and a painter who has a bajillion pen names to go with each genre he writes in, so it's hard to figure out exactly how much he's written. Even before becoming a father though, his face and full name is mostly associated with children's fantasy stories that he illustrates himself, and his Art vs Artist vibe is very Miyazaki.

Him and Calliope collaborated on a series of illustrated poetic translations of ancient epics. Their divorce was exactly as messy as one might imagine the divorce between two passionate artist types might be.

- His downward spiral of self destruction started before the divorce but oh boy did it nosedive during and after.

- When she got pregnant after divorce proceedings had started, there was a moment where they were both meeting with lawyers and one asked something along the lines of if this meant they would try for reconciliation and staying together. Calliope said "no" immediately.

It's not like Morpheus exactly thought they would get back together, but the speed and firmness of that hard "no" had his head screaming with white noise and some badly thought out self medication for months, which ended up being why Calliope got full custody and he is just now able to get more involved with the now two year old Orpheus.

- His rebound with Thessaly was also messy. She was just in it for a fun fling and he was... Morpheus. He found out he got dumped when she informed him she was already in the process of moving back to Greece, and Johanna said he needed to be banned from any more beautiful Greek expats from that day forth.

- No one can figure out what the deal is with him and Lucienne. The simple explanation is they're queerplatonic soul mates. Lucienne's wife Gault thinks they're a bit codependent (not an inaccurate assessment), but is more civil with him since the day she yelled at him to go get an actual therapist instead of constantly putting his shit on Lucienne, and he actually did. (It is unclear if this or Calliope demanding therapy for him to get visitation with Orpheus was his wake up call catalyst, but probably a bit of both.)

- Lucienne was originally a personal assistant. She now works as his editor since she seems to be the only person who can keep track of all the shit he's written. She is also the only person who can get away with critiquing his works in progress without sending him into a fit where he might burn all his manuscripts.

- When Morpheus started mentioning this Gadling guy a lot, Lucienne paid a visit to the pub. Not to do anything so crude as to threaten a man's life if he breaks her sensitive friend's heart. What could she do anyway? No no. She's just here to smile with zero trace of humor and ask some questions while looking him up and down through her spectacles. Hob will later describe this as one of the most pants shitting moments of his life, and he felt like he got transformed back into a primary school kid who talked slightly too loudly in the library.

- Morpheus went through a slutty phase during and shortly after University that was less of a healthy and fun exploration of his sexuality and libido, and a bit more "I will take anyone who will have me in any way they will want me and I know that if nothing else, I'm pretty."

- Him and Johanna used to have a game seeing who could get more free drinks in one night. This had to be put to an end when it turned into the catalyst for at least three screaming fights between them.

Fight subjects were

Quality vs Quantity. Morpheus insists his ability to get people to buy him a single glass of wine that costs £50 beats Johanna's cheap beers. Johanna disagreed. loudly.

Is it cheating when Morpheus ran to the bathroom to smudge on some eyeliner and then stole Johanna's lip gloss? Is it further cheating when Johanna realized that his main method of getting drinks was "act like Adonai"? Accusations that he would ever act like his horrid annoying younger sibling sent Morpheus into an absolute tantrum.

Competitiveness DID overcome sibling rivalry enough for Morpheus to go to Adonai for makeover assistance. This backfired because it made Morpheus hot to the point of intimidating, and Johanna won that night.

- After Hob starts flirting with him, Morpheus goes suspiciously into a Romantic, Pre-Raphaelite inspired art era featuring lots of noble knights with dark sunlit hair. A lot of them seem to be lured in by dark haired fae entities all La Belle Sans Merci style. It's disgustingly obvious.

-Therapy has made him juuuuust self aware enough to know that he MAYBE tends to go a bit hard and fast with romance. This makes him a little more cautious with Hob than he usually would be, and he's doing a bit of "Hob is so nice and sweet and interested but I'm gonna mess it up :(((" pining. Everyone around him is fucking sick of it. He is not self aware enough to realize he's still going super hard and fast, but this time he's doing it while sighing sadly and drawing Hob in his sketchbook all the fucking time.

[k4zushi]

[ 08 ] GONNA SHIT MYSELF WTAF

status : unedited, written 01/04/24 ☆ word count : 0.8k

Y/N’S POV ⟡ COSTUME ROOM

every time you willed the universe to give you a break it found a way to somehow make matters worse.

it all started with your conversation with hu tao earlier that morning. the incident with albedo made sure that your nerves were on edge pretty much the entire day but what your friend said made you want to move across the globe and never return.

maybe if she hadn’t mentioned the possibility of running into a certain grey haired man maybe none of this would’ve happened in the first place.

you were silently freaking out at every random interaction you had. despite knowing the fact that you had no overlapping classes with cyno as he was a computer science major while you were studying fashion design; meaning you’d be studying on opposite sides of the campus.

honestly that made you even more nervous because alongside your history of “short lived crushes”, you also had a track record of bad luck. not one that could compare to a certain blonde engineering major but still bad nonetheless.

play practice was going half decently well. you had managed to escape interacting with others in the theater as you were mostly confined to the space of the costume room along side a couple other students.

it felt like you could finally breathe for the first time that day since you weren’t constantly trying to hide your presence.

“hey y/n i’m going to step out for a bit to measure some of the actors in the theater!” hu tao said, standing in the doorway. “you’ll be okay here by yourself right?”

you looked up from the racks you were sorting through.

“yea no worries. just looking through these racks from the previous years for anything we can use” you replied before turning your focus back to the costumes.

“thanks, we’ll make send anyone down if they have any questions!!” your bestfriend responded before turning to walk out.

you let out a hum in response fully diverting your attention.

it was peaceful being alone in the costume room. it was kind of dusty and cluttered but it was also filled to the brim with clothes, accessories, and fabric. the fashion design major in you was sobbing from the amount of things you could mess around with.

you were snapped out of your little headspace when you detected a new presence in the room.

curious, you peeked out from behind the racks. that, however, was your first mistake.

“um.. are you y/n?” a slightly familiar voice questioned.

you were trying to connect the dots as to why this person’s voice sounded familiar and it finally hit you as your eyes landed on the one person you didn’t want to interact with.

“yea!! how’d you know?” you said in a overly friendly tone in an attempt to cool your nerves.

cautiously, you stepped out from behind the racks to face the guy you had been avoiding all day.

“i was sent down here by hu tao,” cyno explained. “i’m cyno.”

“ohh i guess that makes sense, it’s nice to meet you! i’m on costume design for the play, just thought i should mention,” you paused to think, head tilted to the side in confusion before you continued. “did you need something from me?”

cyno shook his head.

“no, not really. just wanted to ask you a question if that’s okay”

“if it’s about costumes or the play you know i’m more than happy to answer them for—“

“do you happen to be friends with albedo?” cyno interrupted.

your sweat dropped and your nervous system started to go haywire. the urge to book it out the room and flee was overriding all of your other thoughts.

“oh haha.. uh albedo huh?” you said nervously. that was your second mistake.

“so you do???” cyno narrowed his eyes at you and took a step forward as you took a step back.

“yes…?” you looked around hoping that anyone come to your rescue and interrupt the unwanted confrontation.

when cyno took a step forward, you took a step back to maintain a safe distance away from the intimidating, yet extremely attractive, male.

this cycle continued.

that was until you realized you had effectively cornered yourself against a wall next to one of the costume racks. your third mistake.

you mentally facepalmed at your lack of spacial awareness.

“then does that mean you’re the one he was talking about?” he took another step closer.

“ahaha i have NO CLUE what you’re talking about cyno!!” you said trying to laugh off the sudden tension.

you were starting to panic. not only was this costume room stuffy and triggering your asthma but you also found it particularly hard to breathe when a really attractive guy was practically interrogating you.

and that’s how you found yourself in this awkward predicament that made you wish you had a twin that swallowed you in the womb.

‘i should just quit life huh’

“y/nnnn do you know where the measuring tape is?? it wasn’t in the theater and i can’t find— WHAT THE FUCK????”

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AUTHOR’S NOTES : note that the costume room is going to play a ( somewhat big ) part of the story btww (*´▽`*) this was also kinda a nightmare to write bc i was fist fighting w/ the dialogue and awkward word repetition way too much😕

cyno is so silly.. ik this is from y/n’s pov so it’s hard to tell bc of his bluntness, but he’s actually genuinely curious abt the whole admirer thing. which i find hilarious bc he comes off as freakishly intimidating while confronting ppl😭 it’s bc he has somewhat of an rbf and is completely unaware of it૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ( hence the ‘lack of expression’ i mentioned in a previous chapter )

— TAGLIST : @ioveaether @otomegame-oneshots @ashyiiy @mafuyuslover @yuminako @waengyknow @sharkdays @tikitsune @jihoonotes @gallantys @keiiqq @mochibaby123 @lambcandle @ell1e2010

[adventuringblind]

“My Favorite Sainz”

Carlos Sainz x sister!reader & Charles Leclerc x Sainz!Reader (can be read as platonic or romantic)

Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

Request: yes! I hope this is what you were thinking! My requests are open so please send your ideas!

Summary: Carlos has a new girlfriend, one who obviously didn’t care much to get to know him. When his sister starts getting bullied by her, it’s time for someone to step in.

Warnings: toxic behavior, bullying, social media being poison

Notes: written in third person. Kinda short compared to my other fics.

Masterlist

She was definitely more private than her brother. All her socials set to private. She only used her last name if it was necessary. So it didn’t shock her that her brothers new girlfriend didn’t know they were related.

Most of the staff around the Ferrari garage knew. Simply because Carlos was so excited when she finally decided to come to the paddock that he introduced her to everyone as “my baby sister,” much to her dismay.

The Leclerc family was instantly warm towards her. She liked teasing both Carlos and Charles. If she wasn’t with Carlos, she was probably with Charles.

When Carlos mentioned he was going on a date with a model, her and Charles teased him. It went on for months until he finally let the two meet her at the paddock during a race weekend.

It was obvious that the woman didn't care much to get to know him. The younger Sainz picked up on the way she practically ignored him when he spoke.

She pointed it out to him a few times but was just dismissed. Thankfully, Charles also saw it and reassured his favorite Sainz that she wasn't crazy.

Carlos simply pointed out that she didn't know her and that since she's a model, she deals with media and interactions differently.

She felt hurt by his words. Why didn't he see what she did?

Then the jealousy started.

Being a sister obviously meant being there for Carlos when things came up. No matter the result, it became routine for her to find him after races and slather him in sibling affection.

Depending on his mood, he’d either bat her away playfully or let console him. It was one of these moments that someone took a picture of. The culprit was Carlos’ girlfriend. She knows because she watched her take a picture with the flash on.

She let it be though. Maybe she thought it was cute.

The reality of what was really going on set in when she woke up that morning to the image circling the internet. Gossip articles claiming Carlos to be a cheater and her to be a slut.

Was it that difficult to want privacy? She wanted to watch her brothers races in peace. Do her job without interference from fans. Now, her want to remain unnoticed was the cause of drama for Carlos.

She tried to keep it to herself. Tried to let it all go because she knew the truth. But the fans were getting out of hand. They’d dug up photos where she appears with other drivers. Charles in particular.

As the words they used got stronger, she found herself struggling with how to cope.

She tried to talk to her brother about, but he’d just said he hadn’t seen anything and not to pay any mind to the haters.

It didn’t surprise Charles to see her at his door the following afternoon. Carlos had called him saying he couldn’t understand what was going on. Charles didn’t really know either. But when he saw the tears in her eyes, he knew it wasn’t good.

“What can I do for my favorite Sainz?”

~

Charles made a mental note that day to talk to Carlos, but he could never find a good opportunity to do so. In the meantime, he tried to help get rid of any rumors sounding the two.

She had bigger things to deal with then fans. Mostly the now very aggressive comments that came from a certain model. She was constantly telling her to back off.

“Can’t you take a hint?”

“I’m his-“

“I don’t care what you are, leave us alone.” She sneered. Again not bothering to listen to what anyone had to say.

Carlos had started noticing that both his sister and friend had been pulling away from him. He wanted to get to the bottom of it. But his girlfriend always placed herself between him and any answers. It was starting to become frustrating for the Spaniard.

~

This weekend she was going to celebrate Carlos’ birthday. He’d planned a large party at his apartment. She knew who was going to be there and almost decided in feigning sickness. She couldn’t do that to her brother, though. She’d just do her best to avoid any sort of spectacle.

When she arrived, the anxiety had already set in. More pictures. More words. More confrontation. She hated what this had done to her.

She takes a deep breath, opens the door, and immediately looks for her brother. He was easy to spot in the sea of bodies. Thankfully he spotted a her as well and pushed past the group to get to her.

He embraced her and planted a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m so happy you’re here! I feel like we haven’t seen each other in forever!”

She lets out an airy laugh. “We just saw each other last week and you said I was the worst sister of all time.”

“You ate my food.”

“You didn’t label it yours.”

The conversation was quick but she was relieved to be on her own again. No sight of anyone sneaking pictures of her or wanting to start anything. She made small talk with a few friends and family members. Then decided a drink was necessary if she was going to get through this party without passing out from the anxiety.

Before she made it to the bar, someone had snagged her wrist. Her body being dragged through people into the hallway. The two now secluded and away from earshot if any of her friends.

“How many times to I have to tell you? Stay away from him.” She could smell the alcohol on the woman’s breathe. She didn’t want there to be a scene. Not tonight.

She looked for a way to escape since words would do nothing. Being pinned to the wall by her shoulders was not helping her options.

~

Charles had arrived a few minutes ago. She had texted him before the party started admitting her nerves. He promised to find her as soon as he got there, but she was nowhere to be found.

Eventually he ran into Carlos. They greeted each other with a hug and a course of happy birthdays from the monegasque.

“Have you seen your sister anywhere?” He asked. His concern for the younger Sainz only growing as he’d yet to see her.

Carlos looked at him in confusion. “I was hoping you would know.”

The two split off to find her. Looking in places where you may have gone to get away.

Charles found himself down a hall that looked relatively quite. Until he heard the slurred words of a familiar female. He peeked around the corner and saw the girl he was looking for being held by the shoulders against the walls. Eyes glazed over like she wasn’t present.

Charles jumps out from around the corner and clears his throat. “There’s my favorite Sainz! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

The model and the monegasque stare at each other as one slowly releases her into the arms of the other. Carlos peaks around the corner in confusion. Not understanding why his sister was shaking, his girlfriend looked like she might punch Charles, and Charles looks like he’s going to run away with his sister.

“I’m so tired of this!” The mode, finally scream out. Loud enough for anyone nearby to stop what they’re doing. “Did you marry her or something now too?!”

Carlos deadpans and Charles starts laughing. The model only continues her monologue. “She’s a slut and want all your attention all the time, Carlos!”

Now they’ve switched. Carlos looks like he might punch the wall and Charles expression immediately deadpans.

“Get out.” Carlos spits. His voice firm and determined.

“What?-“

“I see what’s been going on now. Nobody gets to disrespect my family.”

“Your sister?”

The model begins fumbling around in confusion and embarrassment. Not knowing how not understanding what anyone was trying to tell her. Someone made sure she was escorted out.

Carlos thanked Charles for stepping in and helping his little sister. She smiled at her brother. “Never doubted you for a second.” She chuckles.

After she is in the safety of her own home, she sighs heavily. Charles had brought her up and walked her inside to make sure she was ok after everything that happened.

She almost tackled him with her surprise hug and muttered a ‘thank you’ into his chest.

He embraced her back. Whispering “of course, anything for my favorite Sainz.”

[writingmeraki]

project : get the guy — enha hyung line smau.

project #3 : we are 🚫NOT🚫 on the same level.

synopsis : chaos ensues when you're assigned to do a project with the four supposed "cool kids" of the university and even more chaos when apparently one of them likes you, just that you have no idea who. warnings : cussing.

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a/n : this part is sort of a cliff hanger haha it's urm well y'all deserve more but for now pls bare with me 😭 suffering from annoying writer's block but I promise you the next part will be out asap!! also thank you to the person who told me abt uploading more than 10 pics ilysm ( you know who you are 💌) but yes let me know what you think!!!

TAGLIST ( open !) : @strxwberry-skiess ; @whippedforbeomgyu ; @urszn ; @cha3w0n-hearts ; @cassie6392 ; @nicholasluvbot : @xiaoderrrr ; @eleanorheartschishiya ; @wonunuwoo ; @antonsgirlfriend ; @aygotnobitches ; @dimplewonie ; @hoeinthehouse ; @belovedsthings ; @cookiesandgravy ; @deffnotnia ; @winuvs ; @riksaes ; @sol3chu @starchasing-cryptid

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

feedback is always appreciated 💌 !

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

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