#best car detailing shop near me

[carcaredetailing]

Car Care Detailing

Car Care team is at your door steps to provide mobile detailing and ceramic coating & graphene coating with superior quality and professionalism. Our technicians are well trained and professional in ceramic and graphene application.

[autocarrepairblogs]

BMW is a renowned brand in the automobile industry, known for its luxury and high-performance cars. However, servicing and maintaining a BMW car can be a daunting task, especially if you do not have access to a certified BMW service center. Multi-brand car service centers have now become a popular option for BMW car owners due to their expertise and cost-effectiveness. Auto Car Repair Multi-brand car service centers are specialized garages that cater to cars of various brands, including BMW. These service centers have a team of trained technicians who possess the necessary skills and knowledge to service and repair BMW cars. Additionally, they also use state-of-the-art equipment and tools that are essential to maintain and repair modern BMW models. One of the significant advantages of opting for a multi-brand car service center is cost-effectiveness. Compared to certified BMW service centers, multi-brand car service centers offer services at a much lower price without compromising on the quality of service. They use genuine spare parts and oils to ensure that your BMW car remains in excellent condition and performs optimally. Multi-brand car service centers also offer a wide range of services, including routine maintenance, repair, and even customization. They can perform routine services like oil changes, brake checks, and wheel alignment, along with more complex services like engine repairs and transmission servicing. Additionally, they can also offer customization services like installing new exhaust systems, performance upgrades, and cosmetic modifications.

[loves-77]

You Are My Honey

*TW* Yandere, obsessive tones, mates, Bear hybrid, NOT PROOFREAD (Tell me if you notice anymore)

THIS IS MY FIRST STORY I HAVE EVER WRITTEN SO IGNORE ANY MISTAKES, I AM STILL TRYING TO FIND MY PERFERED WRITING STYLE!

TELL ME IF YOU WANT A SMUT PART 2!!

*One part of my story is inspired by a scene in another story I read, don't remember the author*

*Not My Picture*

What had the world become? You sit alone on your couch in a small little apartment you could barely afford, for what? To get up in the morning go to your job at the floral shop and make a couple bucks a day?? All alone because you don't have time to invest in a romance that would probably end after a month, because who would want to be with a 'workaholic' who only has time to stay at their job. All your friends got some husband or boyfriend or...... mate.

The subject of 'mates' confused you, hybrids are just now being accepted into society and now are 'mating' on people. With how many hybrids are finding their mates the government is passing a law allowing them to be with said mates. The thought scared you, maybe because you didn't know enough about it. Imagine going about your normal day and some random person, with ears or a tail, starts talking about how you are destined to be together. Scary, or romantic??

Finally getting out of your daydreaming you look at the clock and realize you are gonna be late for work if you don't leave this second. Running out the door, almost forgetting your bag, you rush downstairs and run down the street. You lived pretty close to the floral shop so it was easy for you to get there fast. Barley making it on time your boss gives you a long list of orders you have to prepare. Your day has officially started..

*Time skip*

After work you make it back to the apartment, dropping your keys in your tray and making a bee line to the couch. Your phone rings and you realize your best friend was asking if you were free. Once you text them you are you start getting ready. They didn't give you a lot of details but told you to dress casual.

They text you to meet them outside your apartment in 30 min and they were gonna pick you up. Getting ready you finally make it down the stairs and wait outside for her. Seeing her car pull up and her getting out you both greet each other. "You are gonna love it" she said, "I got invited to some party on the nice side of town, supposedly there is going to be a lot of nice, respectable men there!!!" Winking at you she started the car and started driving. "You know I am not looking for anyone right now, no one is gonna wanna be with me when I can barely go out. I mean I got lucky today and my boss let me off early!" "You might find someone who doesn't mind.... Or someone who makes some money, so you don't have to work as much." Both of you start laughing.

Finally making it to the house you guys pull into the drive way and a bunch of people walking around, inside and outside. "Is the house made of just glass" you question. "I guess it is the new thing with rich people, let everyone see your business" You both get out of the car, after parking it, and walk toward the entrance. Suddenly the both of you tense, realizing there weren't just humans at this party. Now you both don't have a problem with hybrids going into public places or having the same rights you have, but never being near one before and seeing their sharp teeth or ears freaked you both out.

You were the first one to relax a little, realizing they were just there to have fun, like everyone else. "I didn't know they were gonna be here sorry" your friend apologized. "It's OK, they are here just like us, no problems." You both walk in together and browse around to see who and what exactly was here.

A loud booming voice can be heard across the room. Everyone's heads turn towards the owner of the voice. You freeze in fear, or maybe just shock, you aren't quite sure. But you know for sure that the owner of that voice is not someone you want to cross paths with ever again.

He was ginormous with arms that could pick you up and throw you a mile away.... maybe even more than that. His shaggy honey brown hair draped around his face almost majestically. He smiled and you noticed his canines are pointier that anyone you have ever seen before.... wait, wait, wait. You could hit yourself for not noticing the round brown ears on the top of his head. That is why he is so much bigger than everyone in the room.... he is a grizzly bear hybrid.

You look to your friend in panic and notice she had the same look on her face. Grizzly bear hybrids are rare and tend to be more aggressive than other predator hybrids. You have never seen one before in person, you considered yourself lucky until now.

Finally zoning back in from your panic you realize that some non-hybrids share the same look as you and your friend do. Looking back over to the owner of the voice you catch his stare. Freezing up once again you can't look away from those... black eyes? or maybe they are a dark brown, you can't tell from the distance. Snapping out of your shock you realize he stops to... sniff.... no he can't be sniffing the air... can he?

Then realization hits you when he starts heading your way. You heard that hybrids could smell who their mate is, but it couldn't be. You can't possibly be his mate. Panic sets in again and you couldn't tell if you were overreacting, it couldn't be you he was heading towards. But still, you grab your friend's arm and bolt away before he could get close enough to start a conversation.

"What- Where are we going??" Your friend asks "We need to leave right no-" "WAIT, YOU IN THE (F/C) SHIRT!!" You could have sworn the ground shook with how loud his voice was. You don't freeze, now that you know for sure he was looking for you. "Is that-" You cut your friend off "We need to leave." She doesn't hesitate to grab her car keys from her pocket and catch up with your fast steps.

Looking behind you see the hybrid trying to make his way through the crowd. "WAIT, WAIT!!" He sounded so desperate, you almost felt bad if you still didn't feel the pit in your stomach. Looking ahead of you again, you both make it to the front door, storming out of the house and to the car. While your friend was starting it you both hear the front door slam open, turning your head to the side you see the hybrid rushing out. Your friend gets the car started and hits the gas to go forward. Looking back, you see him chasing the car with.... were those tears in his eyes? No, it couldn't be, he didn't even know you. Finally relaxing in your chair, you lay back and look at your friend and say, "I don't think I am going to go to a party with you for a while." Making eye contact you both start giggling. "I understand completely" she says in between her giggling.

*Time Skip*

You wake up with a raging headache, barley remembering what happened yesterday you groan and sit up. Then you pause as you remember who you saw and ran away from yesterday. A chill goes down your spine and you remember his smile with those pointed teeth. But you snap yourself out of it and say, "He didn't do anything wrong; I shouldn't be scared for no reason." But you can't shake the feeling of fear you felt when you saw him.

Getting out of bed you get ready for work, which you are supposed to be there in an hour. Changing into a cute shirt and jeans you make yourself your (Favorite breakfast). Once you finish your food, you grab your keys and head for the door. Getting in your car you start heading over to the floral shop. Entering the store was a whole dream, all the beautiful flowers and the addicting smells you can't help but smile. Making it to the back your boss greets you and gives you the orders to start the day.

A couple hours later you hear the door open and close, looking up to greet the customer you freeze. "Welc-...." Standing before you was the (at least 6'3) huge hybrid from yesterday. "I have been looking all over for you! Since you left so abruptly yesterday, I tracked down your scent and found you here! I was going to go to your apartment, but I thought that might have been too far." The smile on his face not disappearing, even after you didn't respond and just stared at him.

"You found me by my..... scent??" The sheer surprise you had confused him, his eyebrows furrowing. "Well of course honey, how else would I find you?" ..... Honey?!?!? Why is he calling you that?? Shaking the shock off you respond "Excuse me? I don't know you sir and I don't appreciate being called honey." If it could even be possible his eyebrows furrowed even more, before it looked like he realized something. "Oh dear! I forgot to introduce myself!! My names is Caleb, and I realize this might seem weird for you but... how do I word this.... well you are my mate!" The smile on his face grew 10 times when he said 'mate'

Chills rushed down your spine, and not the good kind. "Did you just say mates? No that can't be, I am sorry, but you have the wrong person." You almost felt bad as his face dropped, but you reminded yourself he basically stalked you to work! "But -" You cut him off, "I am really sorry and I wish you the best of luck finding who you are looking for." Tears started welling in his eyes.

"(Y/N)!" Turning around you see your boss, "Yes, sir?" "Come here right now!" Looking back at Caleb you quickly turn and rush to the backroom. "Wha-" You were cut off, "You need to leave, and take the b-bear with you!" "What si-" "LEAVE! You are gonna make business go down, so take him with you!" "Bu-" You were being shoved out of the room towards a very hopeful looking bear.

"You kids have fun!" Turning around the store door was closed in your face. Turning around to look at Caleb, you turn and start walking towards your car, keeping silent. "Wait!" Your arm was yanked backwards. "LET GO!" "No." He growled with a snarl on his face. "You are going to come with me so we can talk. Don't argue because you aren't going anywhere." Shutting your mouth, you start to walk with him, not wanting to be on his bad side. But you can't stop the small tingle you feel in the spot he touched.

He led you to a black car, opened the door, and gently pushed you inside. Once he got in, he started the car and got on the road. "Where are we going?" you managed to get out in a calm voice. Smiling over at you he replied, "Home of course." You had the feeling that it wasn't your house he was talking about.

*Time Skip*

It seemed like you had been in his car for hours, but it was just 30 minutes. Glancing over at him he seemed very content with a light smile on his face. You realize this might be because he finally has what he has waited his whole life for, his mate. Thinking back, you feel bad you just ran away from him and didn't even give him a chance to talk. Looking at his face you think he is very handsome, and you are surprised you didn't notice before. His jawline sharp, light freckles dusting his face, his shapely nose, and he had longer lashes then you did. "I hope you are pleased with how I look." His deep voice scared you out of your daze. Quickly looking away from you stare at the road ahead of you. Out of the corner of your eye you see him look towards you and say "You are so beautiful. So much better than what I imagined my mate to look like." You felt your cheeks heat up as you take a quick glance at him, luckily, he was looking back at the road.

Now going through an internal debate, you realize you don't feel scared anymore. It was almost like your body was relaxing after being with him and not fighting it. Trying to fight off the feelings you can't help but look over at him and say "Why am I feeling like this?" He glanced at you before turning his eyes back on the road. Looking concerned he said "Feeling like what? Are you feeling ill?" Sighing you say "No I don't feel sick but why do I feel comfortable with you? You basically just kidnapped me." You see a small smile making its way on his face, "It is because we are mates, you don't feel it as intensely as I do, since I have better senses than a normal human. But we were destined to be together it's only natural your body is reacting to my pheromones while your brain might be denying it." He suddenly reached a hand over and grabbed your hand. Tingles exploded everywhere just from that touch. You didn't move your hand away, even though you probably should have. Staring at your intertwined hands you couldn't help it, it just felt.... right.

Not even paying attention to the time anymore it takes you a quick second to realize the car stopped. Looking up you make eye contact with Caled. The smile on his face was so sweet you practically felt yourself melting, those dang pheromones. He turned and got out of the car, gently dropping your hand. You can't help but want to hold his hand again, even after everything. He opened the door for you, gently taking your hand again as you got out. As he went to pull his hand back you held on, refusing to let you go. You could see a big smile formed on his face as he looked at your hands.

Looking up you realize how far you must be from the city; you look at the beautiful cabin house, the log details, and the wrap around porch. The forest surrounding you was just as beautiful. Looking to the side of the house there is a small gravel pathway leading into the forest.

"Welcome to my home, well I guess it's ours now."

Looking at him, the sentence and you lightly pull your hand away from his. There is no way you are going to move in with him after just meeting him.... mates or not. A big frown formed on his face when you pulled away and hurt flashed in his eyes.

"I am not moving in with you. We just met! I don't appreciate being pushed into things. I know nothing about you, and you don't know anything about me."

Stepping back from him just a little. You see a change in his eyes, anger, or frustration? You are not completely sure.

Completely ignoring what you said before he continues on.

"My grandparents built this cabin when hybrids were still outcasts. Then it passed to my parents and now me. My parents built their own house further into the forest and decided I could have this house for my mate when I found her. No one knows about it."

Something flashed in his eyes when he said the last sentence. A chill ran down your spine and not a good one. You didn't like the implication of that at all. Your instincts were screaming to run and you couldn't fight your instincts. Not even giving your brain a chance to think, you bolted.

Running straight into the forest you curse yourself for not wearing running shoes to work today. You heard Caleb behind you shouting something, he sounded desperate and wounded. He sounded far enough away you know you surprised him by running. But you knew he would catch up to you eventually and you could hit yourself for not thinking about it before just bolting. There was a pain that you felt in your chest, but your adrenaline stopped the pain. You jumped over rocks and logs not wanting to slow down or trip. You could hear behind you Caleb was gaining on you and fast. Your legs burning you suddenly change routes. You hear a loud curse behind you and knew you shook him off your tail for just a second. That small victory didn't last long as the back of your shirt was yanked. Your back hitting a soft but solid chest.

You were absolutely winded while it seemed like he didn't even break a sweat. Looking at his face you shrink into yourself seeing a furious look. He had a snarl on his face and his eyebrows were furrowed together. You can't help but whimper slightly and you see sadness flash in his eyes just for a second before going back to anger.

"Where do you think you are going." He growled and you couldn't help but flinch at his tone.

"I was being nice and showing you my home, the one you are going to live in with me. I was going be nice and give you a week to stay at your house before moving in but after that stunt you pulled aren't ever going back."

"I'm sorry!" you practically cry out, shaking with fear. Turning around and grappling onto him, crying into his chest.

You couldn't explain it but the moment you ran it felt like your heart got torn out. But now, next to Caleb, the pain stopped.

"Why do I feel like this?!?!" Tears streaming down your face.

"Why do I want to be next to you so bad? Why did it hurt when I ran away!?"

You feel his muscular arms wrap around you and start rubbing your back. He started cooing and telling you it was ok, and he would explain later. His anger completely dissolving as he realized you felt the same pain he felt when you ran. Like someone just stabbed his heart out. Feeling yourself get picked up, you wrap your legs around his waist, stuffing your face in his neck, and wrapping your arms around the back of his head. You felt yourself calm almost instantly after putting your head in his neck. But the tears didn't stop even if you felt better.

"Let's get you back home, then we can clean up and eat something." He spoke so softly you almost wouldn't believe the anger he held in his voice not even 10 minutes ago.

Relaxing into his body you think to yourself, maybe it wouldn't be to bad if you just stayed with him.

[coff33andb00ks]

where i come from - LS

pairing: logan sargeant x fem!reader (lilli. it's lilli) summary: hitch a ride to the end of the highway where the neons turn to wood word count: 1.2k a.n.: the first of three small fics for my beloved Lilli @maxlarens Happy birthday my darling!! I hope you enjoy this little love letter to you (and to american road trips). inspo: all the road trip songs my family blasted during my childhood, compiled here warnings: it's not a waffle house it's a waffle home, author is in love with american south almost as much as Lilli's in love with Logan

"Logan, you can't be serious."

He laughs, parking the car next to a slightly bent light pole. "What? You want to see America, right?"

You press your lips together, staring at the small, flat building that looks as though it's been in that spot since the 1960s and hasn't been refurbished once. "This is America?"

"One of the best parts," he promises, climbing out. The balmy air of Florida immediately makes the car's cold air disappear and you sigh, unbuckling your seatbelt as he walks around to open the door for you.

"A Waffle House is America?"

"Trust me," he says. "You'll understand."

You do trust him, so you let him take your hand, sweat beading before you've taken two steps across the parking lot. There's a crowd of people near the door and you feel their eyes on you and Logan as you approach, the air thick with humidity and weed and tobacco smoke.

The interior is worse than the exterior. Your sandals slide with each step on the ancient tile floor and you can feel the grease in the restaurant. A bored server is leaning against a booth and hands you and Logan menus as you walk by, telling you to sit wherever. You want to turn around and go sit in the car, but…

Logan looks so fucking happy.

So you sit in a booth with him, ignoring the sticky spot on the bench that catches the material of your shorts. You ignore the faint aroma of tobacco smoke that lingers in the dining area. You ignore the yelling from the kitchen staff and the argument starting up between a couple at the counter.

The food is pure American stereotype. Sweet, greasy, and the portions enormous. But your first bite of the burger has you smiling. Because—

"Oh my god," you practically moan.

Across from you, Logan's grinning.

The server is pure southern charm as soon as she hears your accent, and you relax as you enjoy a meal big enough to last you an entire day. It's not great but it's good, and the atmosphere seems to shift.

He buys you a mug, telling you under his breath about a time his brother stole one because apparently everyone does that. Once outside in the sweltering heat, he pulls you in and kisses the top of your head. "Welcome to America."

The road trip was his idea. It's the best way to see this land he loves so much and because you love him so much you agreed, and after a week with his family you're driving out of the Florida panhandle, the windows down and the music blasting, both of you singing Sweet Home Alabama at the top of your lungs.

He takes an exit off the interstate and you're already lost but he's content, speeding along unmarked country roads, past lush forests and rolling fields. He has to slow to a crawl for tractors, and every time a car passes he waves like the other person is an old friend.

Left or right? at every stop sign. No map, no GPS, just a whim.

A tiny shop – gas station, babe, not a shop – in the middle of nowhere is selling fresh peaches and the woman is so sweet and talkative you want to stay and talk all day. Her great aunt makes those crochet blankets you're admiring and before you know it you've got three draped over your arms.

"Where y'all headed?" she's asking as Logan pays.

He shrugs, smiling that bashful smile that made you fall in love with him. "Nowhere, really."

She gives the vaguest yet most detailed directions to a motel – you're gonna wanna drive thataway til you see the old rusted school bus? Then take a left and keep driving til you pass the turnoff for the highway. It's down on the right. If you get to the stoplight you done went too far – and Logan gives you a look as you bite into a fresh Georgia peach.

You smile.

More rolling fields and woods. Farms and family homes and kids on swings. He gets to the stoplight and you both laugh all the way back to the motel.

It's tiny and has almost zero amenities but it's clean and the window overlooks a small field of wildflowers. You take a shower and when you come out there's a jar with a bunch of wildflowers in it and you smile at him. You've been smiling so much the past couple days that your cheeks ache.

He finds a place to get dinner and you feast on what he says is pretty okay bbq but you think is the best you've ever tasted.

The next day you're better prepared, and you fully enjoy the rambling tour of the countryside, relaxing with each passing mile. Feet on the dash, singing along to Fleetwood Mac and Tom Petty and Creedence Clearwater Revival. Songs that are familiar and songs that he knows every word to and you are still learning.

Lunch is a picnic, thrown together with gas station sandwiches and bags of chips, sitting on one of the blankets you bought yesterday by a river. You want to enjoy the scenery, because it is as beautiful as he always told you it was, but all you can focus on is him.

He looks so happy. You've seen him happy, of course, but lately he's been downtrodden. Anxious. And you sit there, watching him as he talks about maybe making it up into North Carolina by sundown, seeing how relaxed he is.

And you fall a little in love with this spot of the world that heals him.

"You love it here," you say softly after a bit of silence.

Logan nods, looking out to the river where it disappears into the trees. "I do."

"I'm—"

"I love sharing it with you more."

Oh. Oh. Your eyes are burning and it's not fair that he can drop the sweetest lines when you least expect them even though by now you should expect them because he always does and—

"Lilli?"

You blink and he's moved to sit right in front of you. "Logan?"

Why does he look worried? Your mind scrambles, thinking something must be wrong. He feels ill, or he just spotted some venomous snake slithering nearby or—

He shifts and you glance down, seeing the ring sparkling in his hand.

Later you'll remember every word he says. How his hand shakes and his voice wavers while he tells you how much he loves you and how happy you make him. But for now all you hear is the river splashing over rocks and birds twittering and the breeze ruffling the leaves of the oak tree. And all you can see his eyes, shining and bright and beautiful.

There's hot sauce on his fingers and yours are gritty with salt. His lips taste of salt and vinegar and there's an ant crawling on your leg, and he's apologizing for not giving you some grand proposal, but you don't care. You're glad he asked you here.

"I love you," he whispers, forehead resting against yours and you feel the sigh that exhales his worries.

He worried that you'd say no. As if yes wasn't on your lips before he said the words.

"I love you, Logie."

[fluentmoviequoter]

Lonelier in Misery

Part 2 of Lonely in Misery

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!paramedic!reader

Summary: After you first date with Tim, you decide to keep your relationship from Nolan and Bailey for as long as possible.

Warnings: brief angst, fluff

Word Count: 1.7k+ words

A/N: Titles are hard sometimes. This is one of those times.

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

The morning after your first date with Tim, feigning your continued misery isn’t hard. You miss him already, even though it’s been less than twelve hours since he kissed you and turned your world on its axis. He changed everything, and you never want to go back to how it was before. Now your absent smile and downcast demeanor are because you miss Tim; you miss someone rather than not having anyone. It’s a nice change, but you’re still craving another kiss.

When you arrive at work, Bailey runs across the station to meet you. She pulls you into a tight hug, and you slowly wrap your arms around her in return.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. “I thought it would work out with Tim.”

“Oh,” you murmur as you realize she’s still making assumptions based on your text from last night. “Right.”

“Don’t take this as a sign or anything, though. I promise I will do better next time! Just tell me what you did and didn’t like.”

“Bailey, you don’t have to set me up again.”

“No, you need someone. I hate seeing you like this. Being lonely sucks, and with our job, we deserve to have a person to go home to.”

“I agree, but a blind date isn’t-“

“You have to give me another chance. Nolan has more friends, plenty that aren’t cops, so I can find you the right guy.”

Bailey turns when the battalion chief calls her name, and you’re left alone again. You’ll have to convince her not to set you up on another date later. The problem is that you can’t tell her why, not unless you want her to insert herself into your relationship with Tim. Bailey is great, she’s your best friend, but she meddles.

You sigh as you pull your phone out. Tim has responded to your good morning text, so you send a quick warning: Bailey wants to set me up on another date since last night ‘didn’t work out’

Tim answers quickly, and his message brings a smile to your face.

Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle all the dates from now on.

While you avoid answering Bailey’s questions, Tim is dealing with his own line of inquiries about the date last night.

“How did it go? You like her, right? I know you’ve met before,” Nolan asks quickly.

“It was fine,” Tim answers.

“Fine… Is that it? I don’t get more details?”

Tim shrugs and repeats, “It went fine.”

Nolan tosses his hands up in exasperation. Tim won’t elaborate, he already knows that, but he needs to know if he and Bailey were right about their idea that you and Tim would be perfect for one another.

“Sergeant Grey!” Nolan calls. “Bradford and I can deliver the safety brochures to the police station.”

“You want to do a rookie’s assignment for them?” Grey asks, his skepticism audible.

“Yes, sir.”

“Yeah. I know you’re just going to visit Bailey, though, you’re not smooth, Nolan.”

“Never expected to be. Thank you, sir!” Nolan turns to Tim to say, “Let’s go.”

“Why?” Tim asks.

“Because I want to hear from both of you. Fine isn’t good enough.”

Tim grumbles as he follows Nolan to the shop. “I’m driving,” he yells when he catches up.

You’re restocking an equipment kit near the open garage door when a police car parks outside. As you set your gear aside, you see Tim exit the driver’s seat. You smile at him, but he shakes his head just before you see Nolan on the other side. It’s not a friendly visit, then.

“Good morning,” Tim greets. “We are here to drop off these public safety cards.”

“Great. Thanks,” you reply as you take them.

Your fingers brush over Tim’s and you feel the same jolt as when he kissed you last night.

“Where’s Bailey?” Nolan asks.

“Kitchen, I think,” you answer.

He nods to thank you, then walks past the fire engines to find Bailey. You raise your brows and look at Tim, but he just sighs. It’s not far-fetched to assume Nolan gave him treatment similar to the one you got from Bailey.

“Alright,” Nolan calls. He returns with Bailey beside him, and you sigh with Tim this time. “Let’s get to the bottom of this.”

“What happened last night, Tim?” Bailey asks. “You get to the restaurant, and?”

“She’s not who I expected,” Tim answers. He glances at you quickly, and you immediately decide to play along.

“Exactly,” you agree. “Blind date usually implies that you don’t know the person. We’ve met before.”

“Okay, but there’s no animosity or anything. You get along,” Nolan argues. “So, why’d you leave just as sad as when you got there?”

“Because I was still lonely,” you answer.

It’s not a lie. Neither you nor Tim will lie, but you’re going to answer the questions without admitting that they were right. They’ll never let you live it down if they can take credit for your relationship with Tim.

“I just don’t understand why you didn’t enjoy yourselves,” Bailey says. “But your relationships are your decisions. And I already have another guy lined up that I want you to meet.”

You open your mouth to argue, but Tim winks at you before you speak. He told you not to worry about it, so you won’t.

“We need to get back to the station if you’re done with the interrogation,” Tim tells Nolan.

“Sure, yeah,” Nolan responds.

You wave discreetly as Tim leaves, and your internal countdown to when you’ll see him again resumes.

As you walk out of the fire station after your shift ends, your phone rings.

“Hi,” you answer.

“Hi,” Tim repeats. “Are you off?”

“I am. I’m leaving right now.”

“Then you should come over for dinner.”

“I’d love that.”

Tim texts you his address, and you smile for the entire trip to his house. When he opens the door and pulls you into a hug, you feel complete again.

“Whoa, it smells amazing in here. Are you cooking?” you ask.

“Maybe,” Tim answers. “That depends on if you have any stereotypical views that I can’t because I’m a man and a cop.”

“I think you can do everything and look good doing it,” you reply happily.

“Then, yes, I’m cooking. And thank you.”

You follow Tim into the kitchen and settle at his side as he finishes preparing the meal. Everything looks great, but you’d do just about anything as long as you were with Tim.

“I’m sorry if I pushed everything too far today. I know we don’t want them in our business, but if you want me to stop covering things up, I will,” Tim offers.

“You didn’t go too far. I thought it was kind of fun. Plus, I like being with you, even if we are lying to my best friend.”

“Lying,” Tim scoffs.

“By omission, yeah.”

Tim rolls his eyes but tugs you closer to kiss you. His hands rest on your cheeks and as you move with him, you know that it is impossible to feel sad or lonely around Tim Bradford.

Two days later, you find yourself pacing beside your ambulance. Tim texted this morning, just: I won’t answer for a while.

There hasn’t been anything on the news or the radio channels about big police operations, so you’re left to worry about him with nothing more to go on. You try to convince yourself that he’s just in a meeting or on patrol with someone, so he can’t use his phone, but then your mind wanders to a dangerous situation where using his phone could get him killed.

“Oh no,” Bailey murmurs. “Are you okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” you answer, snapping yourself out of your thoughts. “I’m just stressing. For no reason.”

“Get your stuff.”

“What? Why?”

“You need a distraction, and John Nolan is my favorite distraction. Tag along with me?”

You consider it for a moment. If you stay here, you’ll just be worried and alone. “Yes, please,” you decide.

When Bailey parks at the Mid-Wilshire station, you follow her inside and force yourself not to check your phone again. Tim will reach out when he can. Someone calls your name, and both you and Bailey stop.

“Hi, Detective Lopez,” you greet when you see Angela.

She hugs you tightly as she says, “Stop, it’s Angela. Especially now that you’re dating my BFF.”

“What?” Bailey interrupts.

Angela’s eyes widen, and she whispers, “I’m so sorry. I thought everyone knew. He told me, so I just assumed.”

Bailey says your name and points at you, ready to accuse you of lying to her and keeping secrets. Before she can, Nolan yells, “Why?!” from somewhere else in the station.

A few seconds later, he walks into the bullpen with Tim following closely behind him. Tim is talking, sternly and meanly, based on his stance. Nolan sees you and Bailey and quickens his pace.

“Bailey,” he begins.

“I know!” she replies. “They’re liars.”

“Why would you lie about that?” Nolan asks.

Tim steps to your side as you answer, “Technically, we didn’t lie. We answered your questions.”

“You just didn’t ask the right questions,” Tim agrees. “Which is part of your job, Nolan.”

“No, no, no. Don’t make this about me,” Nolan argues.

“Wait, so then are you going out again?” Bailey asks.

“And did you actually consider that to be a date? Enjoy it and everything?” Nolan adds.

Tim takes your hand as they continue asking questions, and you wave kindly to Angela as he leads you away. You smile as you follow him blindly. Once he has you away from the bullpen and the endless questions, he stops and pulls you close.

“Are you okay?” you ask. “I’ve been worried.”

“I’m sorry. I got called into a meeting to consult on a UC operation. Everything is confidential, so I couldn’t have my phone on me.”

“I’m not mad. I feel much better now that I know you’re okay.”

“It’s Friday,” he reminds you. “We have another date tonight.”

You nod, and Tim moves his hands, one on your waist and one on your jaw. He dips his chin and kisses you in the empty hallway, and you wonder what did it feel like to be miserable again?

[russellsppttemplates]

Max trying to find if either Jimmy or Sassy ate the engagement ring

Cw: veterinary surgery, mentions animal's sickness

"It was here, Victoria!", Max huffed, "I swear it was. I bought it with mama, we went to the shop she said we should go, got it in a nice box and everything. Not the velvety ones because Y/N can't stand velvet, so I was this wooden one, it flips open with a magnet and- and now I've lost it!".

It had been a nightmare. Max had everything planned to propose to you. The set up was ready, the plans were scheduled and everyone knew where they needed to be. It was all going underway until he found the box on the floor of his side of the home office. You rarely went near his desk, so he figured you wouldn't find it.

"I know you're worried about it, but let us look- No! Jimmy! You can't eat that! Max, have you fed the cats today? Jimmy keeps eating everything, and Sassy is following the steps!", his sister alerted, "Oh, do you think...?".

"Do I think what- Oh, no", Max caught up, grabbing his cellphone and calling up the veterinarian, "hey, I have an urgent matter in my hands".

A few hours and imaging studies later, the veterinarian found the engagement ring inside of Jimmy, "can you tell me how the ring is, please?", the doctor asked.

"It's a very simple cut, and my girlfriend has very small fingers so it isn't that big- Oh, do you think that's why the cat ate it?", he wondered.

"Cats have their own minds, you know? Anything could've led to eat it. But since you say it is simple and doesn't have many details, it will be easier to pass, hopefully", she concluded, "keep an eye out for them, but so far they seem fine".

Back with the carriers in the car and his sister shaking her head, "you're getting Y/N a new one, or at least send this one to the best cleaning service in this city", she snickered, "twice or even three times, just to make sure it's properly clean".

(Thank you for your submission ✨️)

[gypsophiliaz]

“ douceur „

quanxi x fem florist | barista reader.

multiple part series. first part thats just pretty fluffy and romancey!! first time writing and actually publishing it so ermm leave tips ig idk. ik the pacing is weird but its bc i like to write in detail.

feminine reader x quanxi, includes romance. >:3 smut in later chapters or wtv.

disclaimer ; I've never written like romance before so forgive me lol. I write with extreme detail too so it probably gonna be the SLOWEST burn ever. also she smokes weed cuz ion fuck wit that cig shit lmfao

CHAPTER I

being a florist in tokyo isn't anything you thought you'd be finding yourself doing. though, being drawn to the sweet and naturey smell of flowers wouldn't suprise anyone who had known you before. head over heels constantly in love with all kinds of plants and flowers, from spider lilies to hydrangea, peony and flower arrangements in themselves.

. . .

you'd adjust your grip on the box cutter in your dominant hand, the vivid pink color of it mixing with the warm lighting above you, the blade swiftly and sharply cutting through the protruding thorns of the white roses, the remaining water inside would drip slightly onto the paper below the bouqet would find itself sitting inside of momentarily. a smell similar of freshly cut grass would fill your senses, and the cozy and comforting feel of the floristry – cafe place that you had recently assigned yourself to.

the smell of coffee, tea, and the baby's breath that sat to the right of you would fill the air, a rainy day with cars ever–so making light noises as their wheels splash and sputter inside of the puddles left by the rain. the annoying ding of the door would fill your ears once more, and like clock–work the all too familiar words would spill out of your mouth.

“ Welcome to Yrlissa's Flowery, How may I be of assistance? ”

as your eyes lazily drifted off the commissed bouqet that laid on the counter infront of you, your eyes would laid upon a tall lady, with a muscular yet slim figure. wispy bangs and a lacey eyepatch concealing her right eye. the rest of her thin hair contained by a black hairtie— who the hell visits a flower shop in a full black suit? Is she going to a fucking funeral ?

NOT professional thoughts. get it together!!!

the lady would approach the counter, with an almost monochromatic expression. not one emotion would appear on her face, and no body language out of the ordinary. her movements would seem almost perfected calculated, almost uncanny even, but as she grew closer the smell of the the roses and baby's breath would be replaced with the smell of marijuana.

the footsteps would come to a halt uncomfortably close to you, or maybe it would seem that way since shes near the height of a basketball player and you couldn't be any closer to a smurf, and also leaning over flowers with posture far from the best in the world– a few seconds of silence commence, the ladies eyes piercing above to read the sign. her lips parting to finally speak.

“A small espresso will do, please.”

“ would you like sugar or cream? ”

“ Surprise me. ”

the click of the box cutters blade retracting back into itself, and the clack of its placement onto the counter would follow her sentence. with your feet tapping to the cups behind you, and your body language obviously showing your nervousness, you'd swiftly grab it and draw back over to the counter near the woman.

tipping over the jug of geyser water just measuring to the line that marks a half liter. the sound of the water filling up would once again save you from extremely embarrassment from the pure awkwardness of the situation at hand.

. . . .

you'd stretch your hand over and weigh out 20 grams of coffee beans, pouring them into a small tin and placing them on the miniature scale. the lady bringing a stop to the awkward silence that filled the air.

“ I take it it's relaxing to work here hm? ”

“ It's nice on it's slow days, but then there's times like valentines day, and wedding season ykno? ”

“I'd imagine.”

as a few weeks passed, the lady swiftly became a regular. almost always coming in during your shift or being there before you clock in. a name you wrote on the coffee cup almost every shift, the type of name that rolls off your tongue sweet and slick, — quanxi. another day had arrived, opening the door to yrlissa's the bell would chime as you walked in, swiftly pittering to clock in, not missing quanxi sitting in the corner of the shop, as always.

she would stay for a few hours and make nice company on slow days, an often occurrence it would be to sit and speak with her while filling out the commissions for bouqets, and other kinds of assortments. it didn't take long to realize quanxi liked more to listen than to speak.

today was october 5th. the chill in the air sweeping into the store moments after the bell on the door would ring. it didn't take long for you to learn to brace yourself against the cold on the cue of the chime. completing the same ol' sequence you'd do everyday, steaming the milk and poking holes in the puck of espresso, yet this time for yourself to warm up on the cold day.

the thick fog outside would make seeing the people and events happening outside near impossible. pouring the milk, then espresso, a drizzle of caramel and whipped cream onntop, the perfect go—to drink. the cup would warm your hands, soothing you and bringing you into relaxation with the first sip, a small breath leaving your parted lips—

the all too familiar chime would fill your ears.

bruh.

quickly stepping behind the counter to at least shield your lower half. or.. 90% of ur body bc ur a fucking smurf. srry im writing this in my perspective im fucking 5'0. the chill would still expectedly hit your face and torso, sending a small shiver up your spine. gripping the cup of coffee just a bit tighter to warm your hands once again. fluttering your lashes and squinting to keep the ice cold air out of your eyes, you'd realize who'd walked in.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cold.” Quanxi would say, looking back and closing the door softly behind her as not to brush more cold air inside. this time she was wearing a brown turtle-neck under her coat and long black pants. she'd take a deep breath in and pull her other hand out of her pocket.

“you're fine don't worry. at least it's not another total stranger walking in, I think I'd rot inside having to make any more small talk today.” you'd set down your coffee to start her order, placing it beside the cash register and lean on the counter with the corner digging into your palms.

“Usual?”

“Mm.”

Quanxi would approach the table near the entrance of the work space, leaving about 3-5 feet in between the two of you as you started her order. It took her a few days in the beginning but she got what she wanted down pack. a shot of espresso, mixed softly into chocolate syrup followed by warm steamed milk and whipped cream. In other words, a Caffé Mocha. with some extra chocolate.

. . . should probably start that order

you'd started serving quanxi in the pretty white mugs boss lady told you not to use, simply to reduce dishes. but you didn't mind washing one or two for quanxi. You'd hear the clink of her keys being placed onto the table before she'd speak.

“How's work been treating you lately? ” Quanxi would say to you, looking at you completely still with a hand propped up under her chin, but still as nonchalant as usual. It was hard to believe she was genuinely interested sometimes.

pouring the chocolate into the bottom of the cup focusedly, to make it look as pretty and perfect as can be, you'd take a second before answering. “Horrible, Actually. This guy yesterday, came in and got mad at me because I forgot to put caramel on top of his frappe. He ended up throwing it on the floor, and of course I had to clean it. ”

Quanxi's eyes would follow the way you carefully made the coffee. The way you'd twirl the cup to make sure it was evenly distributed, and the way you'd add extra for her, even though she didn't ask for it. Nor did she really like how sweet it made the drink, but to her it was an act of kindness.

"Mm."

“Oh! and thennnn I had a lady come in here with her boyfriend and I guess I was a bit too friendly with her and she pulled me to the side and basically threatened me. I'm not one for wanting a guy in general. That was actually around a week ago and she came back a few days ago an—”

the glass pot to steam the milk in would fall to the ground instantly shattering. nothing but the thought of your boss chewing you out rushes into your mind. not only is it expensive to replace, it was definitely coming out of your paycheck. Quanxi wasted no time raising out of her chair and assisting you with cleanup even before you, yourself could process what had happened.

“thank you. god my boss is gonna make me pay for this. . . " you'd say squatting down and beginning to pick up the big chunks of glass first and placing them in your palm. “I'll get it, you might get cut. ” Quanxi would take the glass from out of your hand and continue to pick up where you left off.

"are you sure? I can just get a broom or something." you'd turn away for a second to grab the broom from the back, yet once you come back you find the glass all gone, not a single piece remaining on the floor and a note on the counter, sitting placed under two 10,000 yen notes. (around 140$)

the shock would spread across your face almost in an instant. what the absolute hell? picking up the notes, you'd take the time to read the note she'd left behind.

“𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓹𝓲𝓽𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓻. 𝓾𝓷𝓼𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓶𝓾𝓬𝓱 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓫𝓮, 𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓺𝓾𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓮𝔁𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓿𝓮.

𝓠𝓾𝓪𝓷𝔁𝓲 347-1782.”

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: * 🎀 .* :✧. ───✧

tired of there not being fuckin quanxi fics and smut bro. ik u stans r alive ACT LIKE IT!!!! 😡 k hope u enjoyed tho owo also im seriously fucking hoping this isn't ugly on pc bro.. idk but if ur reading fluff n shit on a pc u got balls cuz id cry if i got caught

[mjoffic]

last minute shopping - eddie munson holiday blurb

I work retail and this popped in my head while refolding a graphic tee table and it's truly just a bunch of fluf and eddie being a cute boi

~ enjoy and happy holidays ~

word count: 1.2k

The holidays. A time focused around family, the reason for the season, cozy sweaters and hot cocoa. Twinkling lights couldn't be missed for miles as every house had some sort of big bulk convenience store decoration. No need for 'frosted windows in a can', oh no, Hawkins was seeing a very white Christmas with snow fall never ending and the chill of the wind cutting through every jacket and parka leaving no survivors behind. The joy was like an electric buzz in the air, only one thing could diminish the feeling.

The Starcourt Mall.

Eddie wasn't the best planner, never had been. Despite this year trying his best to be on top of the holidays he still had yet to get something for Uncle Wayne. With Christmas Day only two days away, it was a scramble for the perfect gift and it was absolute hell trying to get anywhere in the mall.

He could try The Gap? Nah, too pricey.

Maybe a gift certificate to Scoops Ahoy? But when would Wayne ever find the time to use it? He's always working.

Eddie sighed in frustration, running a hand through his mop of curls. He took a moment to look around the area, peeking over the heads of bustling mothers herding their kids to meet Santa, dads sitting on benches with shopping bags galore, teenagers running around the food court with their Orange Julius's sloshing all over the place. This was a nightmare. Slim pickings. Would Wayne be upset over a hand drawn card?

He was near giving up when he spotted Macy's on the far end. It was a department store, and while it seemed busy, it wasn't as congested as the inner workings of the mall. He squeezed his way through and slid through a sliver of space in between two groups of families; one included a mother scolding her husband for losing their credit card, the other group had a child crying over not getting the remote control car on the front table. Eddie pursed his lips, so glad he wasn't in that stage of life just yet.

There seemed to be never ending options for Eddie to look through, he wondered why he hadn't stopped in in the first place. It also made this decision much more difficult. He knew that he would definitely be walking out with something, no doubt, but genuinely the starting point slowly began to stump him and he felt his once eager energy depleting. A three pack of ties? When did Wayne dress up? A mug? Sure, lets add to the hundreds of them adorning the trailer wall. Maybe a fancy glass set? Even if the glasses were on sale, it was definitely out of Eddie's comfort range of spending.

"Well the sign says fifty percent off!"

A screech from an older woman pulled Eddie out of his daze and his attention turned to the scene on his right.

"Ma'am, I understand your frustration, however the sign details specifically to the gift sets. This sweater is on the table, but is signed for thirty percent off."

Eddie shifted his gaze from the woman, red in the face, almost matching her Christmas red sweater, to you. You stood behind a counter, not currently in use to ring up customers, but he noticed a stack of scarves next to you. He assumed you'd been cleaning up. You wore emerald green, very festive, and an elf hat to match. Despite your professional aura, the bell on the end of hat could almost send him into a fit of giggles every time your head even moved an inch.

"I'd be more than happy to show you-" you started, before being interrupted.

"You can show me to your manager! This is false advertising!" the women shouted, drawing a few more eyes into encounter.

"Ma'am, I'll have to ask you to keep from yelling in the store," you responded, face void of emotion. "If you would let me-"

"I'll yell if I want to! This is a free country!"

Eddie watched you take a deep breath, before picking a landline off the counter. You typed quietly while the woman continued her banter. You faked a smile to her before speaking again. "Hi, hey Ron, it's Y/n! Yeah, yeah, doing good, hey listen, would you mind sending security down to gifts? I have a disgruntled customer who refuses to listen. Awesome, thanks so much!"

The womens jaw dropped as you placed the phone back to the receiver, Eddie snickering quietly at this interaction.

"Who do you think you are!" the woman shouted, feigning a hand to her chest dramatically. "Do you know who I am?"

You smiled and shook your head, folding your hands on the counter. "No, ma'am, I don't! However I am the manager of this department and am asking you to remove yourself before security gets here."

The woman stared dumbfounded, slowly backing up from your bubble. Eddie stared in wonder at the interaction, and if he was honestly, completed turned on by your dominance.

"Merry Christmas!" you smiled, waving as the woman moved away from the scene.

Eddie noticed security at the end of the walkway and he shook his head, laughing slightly. Finding the nerve to walk up to you, he leaned softly against the counter and looked to the way in which the Grinch had left. "I think that was better than any of those movies playing in the theater right now."

You looked to him when he had approached, and smirked a bit at his words. "I try. Gotta keep some sort of sanity in this place."

"I get it, it's a madhouse in here," Eddie nodded, giving his best smile before extending his hand. "Eddie."

Your smirk simmered into a smile and you shook his hand back, nodding. "Y/n."

"Well, Y/n, I'm wondering if you might be of some use to me," he said, straightening back up.

"Oh?" you questioned, crossing your arms.

"Yeah, I mean, you are the manager of this department," Eddie said. "I'm in the works for the perfect gift."

"Ah," you nodded, stepping out from around the counter and glancing around your section. "Mom? Sibling? Girlfriend?"

Eddie stifled a laugh and he slowly followed beside you. "Uh, no mom. No siblings. And no girlfriend."

Your face erupted in pink and you stumbled over your words. "Oh, um, I'm sorry, I just assumed-"

"Hey, hey," Eddie grinned. "All good here. I'm shopping for my uncle, wanna try to find him something nice. Not much of a budget but I figured I'd find something on sale."

You felt your panic subside and sat a cool hand against your cheek, the heat subsiding. "Well, I'm sure we can find something perfect for him! Maybe something for you? Doesn't hurt to treat yourself sometimes."

Eddie pursed his lips a little bit and dug his hands in his pockets, following slightly behind you. He watched the way the bell of your hat jingled with every step you took. You arms slightly swayed when you walked, and you barely made a sound when taking a step. He began to notice the little things, and started to quietly thank the stars he'd came into the mall after all.

"I think I already have."

[crithaus]

Morgwen Bodyguard!AU where it's the whole gang in mostly modern times. This is extensive, bear with me.

Through some series of events I haven't thought of yet England has not become England as we know it yet though most of history remains the same and Uther Pendragon is King Regnant of Albion, and he does about just as good a job rearing two kids as he does running a country and has a great vast many enemies so his heir apparent Crown Prince Arthur and his ward Morgana, now Duchess of Gorlois after the death of her 'father', are now in desperate need of a constant detail of bodyguards.

enter gwen and the gang

his capital city can only bear to send CIS' - Camelot Intelligence Services - finest on recommendation by his own friend and personal physician. Sends him 2 3-cell teams of their best intelligence agents or at least, least likely to kill each other while guarding bodys yknow.

And Morgana gets hers. Her team leader, sniper and combat specialist Lancelot, ex combat pilot turned all around agent Elyan and to her immense surprise, Elyan's super super gorgeous sister, Guinevere.

Arthur gets his cell, team leader Leon his getaway driver and head strategist, defense and combat specialist Gwaine and hacker Merlin, though the poor boy gets a secondary job as Arthur's PA too which takes up much of his time.

Morgana's spent every moment of her life that she can remember simpering with high society boys and girls, all of them either vapid and idiotic or worse yet, cruel and calculating and never ever has she met a woman more fascinating than Gwen. She's her new personal assistant much like Merlin is Arthur's, with an eidetic memory and the management skills of Hannibal fucking Barca, a parisian boutique's worth of seamstress ability and the personal upkeep, maintainence and even some smithing of all her cell's weapons. She runs shit like the navy and when Morgana asks why she isn't team leader, Gwen just laughs and oh man is her laugh pretty, and shrugs, "someone needs to be focused solely on you yknow." While looking at her with the biggest doe-iest eyes and Morgana finds herself blushing a lot more?? Beaming ear to ear, too. And

Idk Morgana dragging Gwen off to galas and Gwen taking her off to more low key spots, the club perchance, and Gwen getting wowed by morgana's rapier wit and political acumen and Morgana getting wowed by this absolutely radiant beam of sunshine who snatched a gun out of a mugger's holster before he could do anything and popped some other dude 30 paces away without a hair out of place and adventures. Gwen absolutely despises Uther, Morgana hates all the snooty folk that expect Gwen to kowtow to them. Gwen finds that though her job is to personally assist, the Duchess is actually quite nice, fiercely loyal to her as if just the doing of her job is enough to warrant such, though shes achingly lonely so maybe that's why, is very funny, and kind, and compassionate if a little impulsive and rash, and comes up with the funniest insults imaginable murmured directly into her ear as she stands at her post in the back of x meeting of uther's privy council or y public function. Also that her eyes are theeee most brilliantly clear shade of green, like the still clear pond near her house, like garnet-

Morgana has awful nightmares of totally not suspicious events that come true an odd amount of the time and Gwen is receiving back Intel from CIS and Uther about potential stirring of war from a King Cenred across ye Olde channel and they go on cool car chases and maybe there's a shopping montage or two but yea. Idk how to end this but uther realizes he doesn't have to die a shitty old man and legitimizes Morgana as a princess of the blood before he chokes and when she and Gwen get married it's princess style babyyy

Oh and definitely morgana giving herself up to some assailants cuz gwen is hurt and some baddies cracking poor morgana on the head and Gwen frantically trying to keep her awake and morgana is just griiiiiinning at her all restored even as concussed as she is cuz this angel is cupping her face in her hands and yea, that thing

[daifukumochiin]

Summary: Sasuke's orderly life at elite Sairiumu Academy is disrupted by the arrival of Hinata, a timid transfer student whose obvious crush on him, a young man dedicated to his craft and his current relationship, stirs unease. (Initial SasuSaku with SasuHina endgame, modern Norse myth AU, high school, angst, romance, photography, postmodern-ish fic). Rated T

LIGHTS,

BOWS, and

MISTLETOES

an entry for SasuHina Month 2024, Day 27 : Forget and Remember

(for peachy-hina, since December)

@sasuhinamonth

ffnet: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14369143/1/Lights-Bows-and-Mistletoes

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57030778

Part 1: Lights

go to Chapter List>

iii

It wasn't a baseless assumption.

Sakura wanted to ride the train home that day. For a magnate's princess like her, the commuter's daily struggle was a novelty.

"Let's hit the rush hour!" she said, eyes gleaming.

Sasuke huffed. "Don't wanna. The last time I was with you during rush hour, you left me at Hashirama’s bridge in the rain, remember?" 

"Oh, come on. That was different. We're taking the train. Forgive and forget, okay?" She pinched his nose playfully. "Don't you love what we have now? Isn't this better than before?"

Sasuke thought about the apartment she got for them. She broke up with him in a fit of rage after losing at an inter-high kyudo tournament. Now they shopped together, visited convenience stores late at night, and went to school holding hands.

"What about the car?" Sasuke asked.

"Park it near the station. We'll get it tomorrow."

Sasuke nodded, impressed. "Getting street smart, are we?"

"Of course," Sakura smiled, poking him in the ribs. "Learned from the best."

"But wouldn’t it be smarter to just drive? I have a lot to do. Plus the laundry—" He didn't mention her lack of help around the house, how that meant he had to squeeze in doing house chores for the both of them amid schoolwork and his creative projects.

"Oh!" Sakura smacked her glossed lips. "Make me one of those omelet rice you made last Sunday!"

"Were you listening?" Sasuke could only sigh and protested no further.

While they waited for the train at the subway station, Sasuke passed the time by observing the other commuters, the play of light and shadow across faces, making diagnoses which club camera he'd use, which lens, and the camera settings. Then a figure briefly caught his attention—a flash of dark indigo hair that stood apart from the muted tones of the crowd.

Hinata Hyuuga.

How had she managed to track them down here?

No Sairiumu student would normally be found in subways mingling with common people.

How long does she intend to keep stalking him?

He has a girlfriend—shouldn't that deter her enough?

Does she know where they live?

He’s had the worst experience with stalkers that do and his parents didn’t even know. They left messages on his window sill and inside the flower pots on his balcony, and he always felt like he was being watched everywhere.

Suddenly, Sasuke's fight-or-flight response went haywire. His pulse quickened as questions swirled in his mind, his fingers turning cold.

"Take one like this."

Sakura's voice snapped him out of it. She embodied a sultry pose with the subtle tilt of her head towards the direction of the incoming train, her eyes appearing soft and drowsy, her lips not fully closed.

"Or perhaps this?" She adjusted her hair, fingers combing through it to the side.

Sasuke looked around but couldn't see Hinata anymore.

"What's the matter?" asked Sakura.

"Nothing."

"You looked spooked."

Sasuke shrugged. "No way."

"Well, if it's nothing, don't miss this chance. Who knows when I'll be in the mood to come down here again? Come on, take a photo." She motioned towards herself.

Sasuke pulled out his phone, adjusting for the best lighting and how shadows fell across Sakura's face as he framed the shot. While he scanned over the details in the background, she hadn’t been noticeable, blending into the bustling crowd waiting on the platform. Only when he zoomed in did he spot Hinata, partially obscured behind Sakura, her presence almost ghostly against the backdrop of the arriving subway train.

More people rushed onto the platform as the rails clattered against the weight of the incoming train. 

Sakura grabbed his phone. 

“Wait—!”

"Not bad. Needs a little editing." Sakura made a face. "Post this on your Dinsta."

"No," Sasuke answered abruptly, regretting it immediately.

"Are you saying it's ugly?" Sakura asked, irritated.

“We need to go."

He grabbed her wrist as they joined into the sweep of the crowd boarding the train. 

The doors shut, the cubicle crammed on every side. Sakura's bright, electrifying peach perfume mixed in with the various other human odors assaulted his nostrils.

"Isn't this romantic?" Sakura giggled, her body fully pressed into him.

"Too hot and too crammed is romantic now?" Sasuke smirked.

The train suddenly jerked, causing Sasuke to step back and unintentionally bump into someone behind him. When he glanced over his shoulder to apologize, he froze—it was Hinata Hyuuga. The indigo dome of her hair brushed against his scapula, faintly emanating an unexpected blueberry scent.

So that's what she smelled like... Tenderly sweet—fruity, with a hint of tartness that lulls one into lowering defenses—clean and crisp, like the freshness of morning dew on flowers when he'd camp out for landscape photos in the prairies of Mist region. The blend of natural sweetness and subtle floral notes was almost comforting in its familiarity, and he felt an immediate easing of the tension in his nerves.

It’s a well-known fact that scent influences animal perception and behavior, and Sasuke couldn’t help but think: what a sly, underhanded girl.

Did she deliberately choose this scent to disarm him?

Was it her strategy to make him perceive her as kind and harmless, despite her stalking?

He almost wanted to laugh.

He'd hate to break it to her, but such tactics wouldn't work on him. 

go to Chapter List>

[lovebillyhargrove]

Billy's camaro fic: Six kinds of silence

***

How do you tell someone their parent is dead?

You probably just say the words.

What happens after you say those words?

Someone becomes an orphan.

***

It has somehow slipped Steve's mind that Billy probably does not know about his father's sudden death last August.

Why didn't Steve tell him earlier? It didn't come up anywhere in the conversation. He didn't think about it. He assumed that since Billy didn't bring his family up, then maybe he .. knew. Or .. maybe ..

Steve really has nothing. He just didn't think about it.

Turns out, Billy doesn't know.

No mailman in the Upside Down Kingdom.

So Steve has to be the one to break the news.

"Billy."

He's looking at Hargrove.

"What?"

"Billy. I have to tell you something. About your dad."

"Yeah .. what?"

"His name is Neil Hargrove, right?"

He's just double checking, maybe there's a crazy chance Billy's dad's name is John or .. fucking Wayne Hargrove, but that's ridiculous, he knows, Billy's father is dead, he's read it in the newspapers and he's heard it from Max, he knows about Max's step dad.

Billy is looking at Steve like he's an idiot.

"No, it's Arnold fucking Schwarzenegger."

Not even funny, dumbass.

"Billy."

"For fuck's sake, stop saying my name, Harrington, and just tell me what's going on!"

"There was a car accident."

"A car accident."

"Your father is dead, Billy. He died in a car accident."

The silence that surrounds them is the kind of silence that you can actually feel. It's tangible. You feel it with your fingertips, slide them on that thin ice crust and then break it.

"When?"

Billy's voice is hollow.

"In August. I believe, it was in August. It was in the Hawkins Daily. And Max .. Max told me about it."

"Max."

Billy's saying the name like it's alien to him, like he has no idea who Max is.

:readmore:

"What kind of car accident?"

"I don't .. I don't know the details. We can ask Max."

No that's probably a bad idea

"Or we can find that newspaper, find the article."

There's no emotion on Billy's face, not even a trace of .. anything.

"I remember there was something strange about it. Like .. the car wasn't identified and nobody knew who did it, the police never found the driver."

"I need the article, Steve. Please?"

"Of course, yeah .. I can go to the library, I can .. try to find it there?"

They can't really show up at the police station asking questions, so library is their best shot at finding out what happened.

"Please?"

"I can only bring it to you in the evening."

"I can't wait until the evening, Steve. Let's go now, right now."

"I uh .. I have to .."

"Yes. Work. I'll go by myself."

"But Billy .."

"It's okay. I can handle the library, Steve."

"I just don't think you should be alone right now .. "

"It's fine. I'm fine."

Billy's face is still void of any sign of emotion.

"Where are the keys?"

"Wait, Hargrove. Billy, wait, I'll drive you there. I'll make a call, tell them I'm gonna be a bit late."

Billy's nodding and walking out of the kitchen, to change, Steve's thinking.

He dials Robin's number.

"Hey, Rob. Yeah, it's me. Look uhm .. I'm gonna be late. Can you cover for me?"

"Sure. You're in luck today, Steve. Keith isn't gonna be in the shop. He has some .."

"Awesome! I'll owe you one, Rob. You're the best! Just don't tell Keith."

Keith is the worst.

Steve's hanging up

"Billy!"

"Billy? are you ready to go?"

Steve heads upstairs and changes into jeans and a different shirt.

"Billy, are you here?"

He's opening the guest room door, but Hargrove isn't in there.

Steve is dashing downstairs and sees that both key sets - from the beamer and from the camaro - are on the table near the door.

Billy's old sneakers (no, Steve's old sneakers which he gave Billy to wear when they went to see Owens) aren't near the door mat. One of Steve's jackets is missing too.

Hargrove must've walked outside already.

Steve grabs the beamer keys and dresses hurriedly.

He catches up with Billy when he's already half a block away. He's wearing sweatpants, so he didn't even change his clothes, just put on the jacket and the shoes.

Billy doesn't have any clothes. Steve gave him some stuff of his own, and Hargrove hadn't even left the house except for the meeting with Dr. Owens a week ago.

Steve stops the beamer and Billy gets in, on autopilot.

They drive to the library in silence.

It's a different kind of silence, not the thin breakable one, but the anxious kind. Steve keeps wanting to say something but he doesn't know what.

They find the newspaper quickly. There it is, the article

"Mysterious death of a Hawkins resident."

There was an unidentified car involved. The body was set on fire after having been run over. Strange circumstances. No witnesses to be found. An inconsolable widow left to provide for a teenage daughter. It was a dead end investigation. The police didn't have any suspects. The case was closed.

Something doesn't sit right with Steve. The words keep turning in his mind like two giant stone discs slowly grating against each other.

Car. Fire.

Car. Fire.

These two words would've been written in the article about Steve's death as well if the camaro hadn't forgiven him that day.

Oh fuck

Ohh fuuuck

"Billy .."

"You told me my car almost roasted you once, Harrington?"

"Billy I don't think .. "

"Give me the keys."

"What? I'll drive."

"GIVE ME THE KEYS, STEVE."

There's steel in Billy's voice and Steve hands him over the keys.

Billy snatches them from his hand, grabs Steve's arm, drags him out of the library, and gets behind the wheel himself. Steve almost makes it into the passenger's seat when

The tires screech

"Billy you don't think .. "

"I don't think, Steve. I know."

Billy drives back like a maniac, breaking every speed limit and doesn't even turn the ignition off, just gets out of the car and dashes to the garage where the camaro is standing.

"You shouldn't have done it!! You fucking piece of shit!!!"

Hargrove's kicking its tires, and he's banging on the hood, looking into the windshield as if trying to see a face there. He only sees his own reflection. He's hitting it with his fists aiming to break the glass

"You fucking .. you shouldn't have .. "

wildly looking around as though trying to find something to smash its lights and windows with

"You didn't have the right to do it, who gave you the fucking right !??!! Who gave you the fucking right, it wasn't your place to do it, you fucking .. psycho!!!"

Steve is grabbing Billy's shoulder

"Hey! Hey!! Hargrove's, stop !!! Stop. You need to calm down, hey .."

"Don't .. don't do it now, Harrington! She didn't have the right! You don't know!"

Billy's voice is hoarse and it's breaking.

Broken.

"Okay, okay! It's a car, Billy, what do you want to do with it?? Kill it? It's .. your car. You .. "

Steve feels he's missing something huge here

"Why did she do it, Billy?"

He's looking into Billy's mad eyes with his large pools of compassion

He wants to understand, he wants to help.

"Why did she do it?"

Billy is suddenly slumping in Harringtons' grip and sliding a palm over his face

"Let me go."

"Where are you gonna go?"

Billy's heading into the house and Steve's trailing after him

"To the cemetery. To see my father. I need to find the grave."

"Let me drive you. Hargrove?"

Billy's swinging the door open and going to the kitchen.

He takes a bottle of vodka from the cabinet and his Marlboro reds.

"Hey I said I can drive you!"

"I'll fucking walk!"

"We can take the beamer, we don't have to take your .. "

"No Steve, just .. I appreciate everything you're doing for me, man I really do, but I need to be alone right now, it's just .. you didn't know my dad. It was fucked up. I want to be alone there."

"Alright, just uh .. let me just take you there, it's a long walk. I'll leave you there, I promise. I can pick you up later."

"I can walk, Steve. Don't worry, I'll be fine. I know where the cemetery is, I have a fucking gravestone there with my fucking name on it. I bet he's buried right next to me."

And so Billy's leaving, and Steve is going back to the garage.

The camaro looks .. it looks like it knows it has done something horrible but would still do it anyway if given another chance. Like it stands by its point, and it is not sorry.

It also looks hurt.

Steve is sliding his hand on the hood and opening the driver's door. Gets in the seat but leaves the feet on the garage floor. Slides his hands into the hair and lets out a sigh.

Looks at the dashboard, touches the steering wheel.

"What have you done ? Why?"

The camaro is silent, and it's the kind of silence that has some sick and twisted mystery wrapped around it. Maybe, if the car could talk, it would tell Steve everything he wants to know.

But cars don't talk. Not even this one.

So it's silent, and the silence is oppressive.

***

Steve never goes to work that day. He calls the video store and tells Robin Keith can actually fire him all he wants but he's just not coming in. Robin promises to cover for him for the rest of the day cause Keith's not there anyway, but on one condition - Steve will finally have to tell her what's going on in his life. Steve tries his best not to promise anything, so eventually they do agree on a very reluctant "Yeah, Rob, maybe I will."

The house is so quiet without Billy. It's the kind of silence Steve doesn't enjoy anymore. He wants to feel the other boy's presence. Wants to know that if he goes down to the living room he will find Billy splayed on the couch reading a book. Or doing stuff in the kitchen. Or something like that. Steve doesn't want to float in the silence of being alone anymore.

He waits.

***

Steve's already in bed when he hears the front door open. He hears the tap being opened and the clatter of the glass set on the table. He hears the downstairs bathroom door close and the sound of the water running.

He hears Billy's quiet steps on the stairs.

Steve's getting up and going out of his room.

"Hey."

Billy's drunk. He's swaying, but just a little.

"Are you okay?" Steve's asking softly. "Go to bed, man, it's almost midnight. Sleep it off."

Billy's leaning on the wall and closing his eyes.

"My mom left when I was eight. She and dad fought a lot. I was a kid, I didn't understand much. I just knew that they were always fighting. She left him. She left me, too."

"My dad uh .. he .. You want to know why my car did what she did, Steve? The truth is that my dad, he .. he wasn't the best dad, okay? I can't .. I don't want to talk about it, really, it's .. it's fucked up."

"He is still .. was .. my father and he's in me, in my fucking .. bones. It seems like I did so many things just to say fuck you to his face, and I .. he punished me for that. Every goddamn time, no matter how big or small it was. But also .. I've seen kids who ended up in foster care, Steve. I've seen them getting kicked from one foster family to another, I've seen them running away and being homeless, starving, dying of an overdose, prostituting, you name it. It's not like here, in this quiet town. Sure it has the .. monsters and stuff, but where I'm from .. there are monsters and horrors too, and I'm not even sure which ones are worse. I've just seen so many kids just .. thrown away, like trash. But I uh .. I've always had a home. The home that went up in flames, and I hated it, but it was there."

"I hated him, Steve, so much, I .. still do, but she .. she had no right to do it. It was my father, I could deal with him myself, I wanted to! .. I wanted to show him that I could .. stand up to him, that I made it, I didn't break, he didn't break me, fuck, this is so fucked up why do they fuck us up so bad, fucking why ??"

Billy's voice falters, he has already started sniffling a while ago, and now there are crystal clear tears coming down his face. Like tiny diamonds.

Steve gets closer to him.

Closer.

Neither of them says a word.

This kind of silence is amazing. It's heartbreaking but at the same time it's telling you that something beautiful is about to happen. It's sparkling. It promises fireworks.

He raises his right hand and touches Billy's cheek, wiping away the tears with his thumb.

Billy looks up and

Steve swears the lights .. they flicker. There's a power surge, sweltering heat washing over him, but he doesn't care about the lights, he just wants to look into Billy's startling blue depth, he wants to ..

He's looking and Hargrove's looking back, they are searching each other's faces

God, Billy is so beautiful

and then Steve gets even closer to the other boy and

It's only a light brush of lips

Gentle, fleeting,

So, so tender.

Euphoria is shooting up his spine

And Steve wants more but Billy

Billy's pulling away.

Oh.

"Steve, I .."

"I'm .. "

"No it's not .."

"But .. "

"It's just .. Now it's not a good time."

"What do you mean it's not a good time? You .. you don't like me?" Steve's voice is so soft, so fragile, he's scared Hargrove will just laugh in his face now, make fun of him.

"Steve. It's not that. I just .. this shit is fucking me up so bad. I just, I can't take certain things fast now. Especially if I know these things .. are good."

Billy takes Steve's hand into his own.

"Let's go to bed. I'm so fucking tired."

They go to Steve's room and slide under the sheets, only to sleep next to each other, feeling the warmth of each other's bodies.

***

When Steve wakes up in the morning he's alone in the bedroom.

He goes downstairs. It's quiet, and that's the kind of silence when something is wrong.

There's a white sheet of paper on the kitchen table.

Steve's heart is sinking.

"Steve,

I don't want to say thank you - again - because it's lame. What you did for me, can't be measured by a thank you.

I like you, pretty boy. Much more than just like you.

Take care."

Steve wants to run to the guest room, see if maybe Billy is there, but he knows there's no point in that. Billy's gone, he can feel it.

Steve puts the paper back on the table, starts the coffee and goes to the bathroom.

His heart has sunk and is somewhere at the bottom.

Steve turns on the shower and lets the streams of warm water fall on his face. He remembers the radiating heat of Billy's body when they were laying in bed together, the oh-my-god!!!!- ohmygodohmygod feeling, the first kiss exhilaration, even if it was just a brush of lips on lips.

So if you like me, and much more that just like me, where the fuck are you, Hargrove?

Where??

Cause it feels like I don't just like you. It feels like I'm

In love with you.

***

Next chapter

***

Oh, and I know that we love it when Neil gets killed. But I don't think Billy would join the cheering crowd. It's his dad. It's complicated.

[salchat]

Dean-in-progress Part 1

I was major-league pissed off today (still am, really), because the Marsden (my hospital) is only communicating through a crappy app and not telling me what's happening!!! It's not as if I'm just trying to do my online shopping or book my car in for a service - this is my life-and-death health!! Anyway, I'm chemoing tomorrow and will get a chance to talk to them. Sigh.

But! There's always art, so I decided to do a lovely Dean picture and a detailed log of his progress - which you may or may not be interested in.

Look at this paper! What a great colour!

I don't usually go for the really bright ones, but let's see what I can do with this. Now I need to sort out a reference from the juicy collection I have handy. Oh look! This is nice:

What pastels to use, though? Hmm. I fancy going in pretty rough to begin with - lots of broad strokes and smudging with my finger. I'm going to sort out some purples and some browns. And a gold would be good. But I don't have a gold. Might have to get creative.

A gold eye pencil! I might not use it, but it's lovely and bright. And I might not use all of these pastels, but they're nice to have handy. I'm going to go with a dark purple to begin with.

Huh! Classic error! I've straightened it up. There's nowhere near enough angle on the shadow on his cheek, or the line of his mouth and chin or his eyebrow or his hair. People do this all the time in figure drawing - your eye wants to straighten things up - make them more vertical or horizontal than they are!

This is better. And I've smudged more of the shadows, because somehow it makes it easier to see in 3-D and understand the form more. There's a long way to go, though, and, as usual, his mouth is going to be a challenge. Because this isn't any mouth - this is Dean Winchester's mouth. (British Tumblrs - think M&S Advert!)

There are some things better here and some worse. My main two strategies are to copy abstract shapes or to try to draw the actual forms. These two strategies are pretty much opposites. When you copy abstract shapes, you don't think about what they are. You don't think 'this is a nose' or 'this is a mouth' because if you do your mind will make assumptions that aren't necessarily true. It's just the way our minds work - a kind of shorthand thinking. So, you switch off one type of understanding and you think exclusively of angle and proportion and shape as an abstract thing. But, when you draw the forms, you deliberately think about the features and what they are and what the shadows and shapes in front of you mean. So I'd be thinking, 'how does that shadow shape under his nose express the shape of his upper lip?' Because for me, it's not about copying photographically, it's about understanding and interpreting.

Here's the next one:

The mouth is better and I've moved the light on his eye, because it was too far to the right. Probably still is, actually. And there are all kinds of bad and wrong things going on with the lip-chin line. Hmm... And as for his hairline...

You'll probably struggle to pick out the changes in this one! But I've done a bit of work on his hairline and there are some changes to his lips. Oh, the challenges of Dean's lips! But they're so important.

So, this is progressing. And there's a lot of it that's okay. But it still has a long way to go and the most important thing isn't really there yet, as far as I'm concerned - it doesn't have enough Deanishness. It's not him. Not as much as it should be. But that's okay! Because eventually it wil be, to the best of my ability anyway!

[autocarrepairblogs]

BMW Service at Auto Car Repair

BMW is a renowned brand in the automobile industry, known for its luxury and high-performance cars. However, servicing and maintaining a BMW Car service can be a daunting task, especially if you do not have access to a certified BMW service center. Multi-brand car service centers have now become a popular option for BMW car owners due to their expertise and cost-effectiveness. Auto Car Repair Multi-brand car service centers are specialized garages that cater to cars of various brands, including BMW. These service centers have a team of trained technicians who possess the necessary skills and knowledge to service and repair BMW cars. Additionally, they also use state-of-the-art equipment and tools that are essential to maintain and repair modern BMW models. One of the significant advantages of opting for a multi-brand car service center is cost-effectiveness. Compared to certified BMW Car service centers, multi-brand car service centers offer services at a much lower price without compromising on the quality of service. They use genuine spare parts and oils to ensure that your BMW car remains in excellent condition and performs optimally. Multi-brand car service centers also offer a wide range of services, including routine maintenance, repair, and even customization. They can perform routine services like oil changes, brake checks, and wheel alignment, along with more complex services like engine repairs and transmission servicing. Additionally, they can also offer customization services like installing new exhaust systems, performance upgrades, and cosmetic modifications.

[trulybetty]

oct' 20 x sweater weather

Prompt: sweater weather Pairing: dieter x bryony (ofc) Word Count: 839 Warnings: un-beta'd is the name of the game, dieter bravo & just fluff Summary: when dieter met fiona

x. masterlist

this is for you fiona anon 💗🦛:

Bryony had warned him to pack a sweater in his bag, he’d insisted he didn’t need one. 

“I lived in Ohio,” he scoffed, “I know what it’s like there.”

Bryony hadn’t wanted to remind him that he’d lived out in LA now longer than he had any other state, including New York where winters could be cruel. She also wasn’t going to mention he lived in Ohio for all of six months when he was eight either. It was best sometimes not to get into the finer details with Dieter or you could find yourself debating something completely different to what you started on. 

So she was currently waiting for him to admit he was wrong as they waited in a private area of the airport for their car, one perk of travelling with celebrity, as he crossed his arms at his chest in an obvious attempt to stave off the chill in the fall air. 

“So we’re going to the hotel first, right?” Dieter asked. 

“No, the car is taking us straight to the event.” Came a voice from behind the couple, Rosie Jones, all five foot nothing, petite, red headed powerhouse who was furiously tapping at one of her three phones that she carried at all times. 

Dieters first ever publicist, well first he had actually acknowledged and first that he sometimes listened to. 

“That’s a shame,” Bryony muttered as she inspected her nails, this week they were stiletto shaped in an ombré of grey and soft pinks, Dieters choice. “If we were going to the hotel I could have grabbed myself an extra sweater.” She tugged her coat tighter around her. 

Dieter narrowed his eyes at her, “How far away is the car?” He asked, turning to Rosie. 

She didn’t look up from her screen, “Should be here in the next couple of minutes.”

“What’s the matter Mr. Ohio, cold?” Bryony asked, she swore she saw his teeth chatter. 

“No, just curious about the schedule,” Dieter replied.

After a short ride, they arrived at their destination, the Cincinnati Zoo.

The moment they stepped out of the car, the chill hit Dieter once more, causing him to shiver involuntarily. Bryony gave him a knowing look but was met with a trademark Dieter grin.

Trying to keep his dignity intact, he quickly steered towards the gift shop as Rosie threw her arms up in defeat as she had just been mid sentence explaining how the photo op was going to go.

Five minutes later Dieter reappeared wearing a bright pink crew neck sweater, not out of the ordinary by any means. Except it was emblazoned with the name Fiona and an image of the animal in question.

Bryony rolled her eyes, “Feeling warmer Bravo?”

“It's sweater weather,” He responded, “Didn't want to disappoint Fiona.”

The trio headed towards Fiona's enclosure. As they approached, Dieter's excitement became evident. For all his flamboyancy and celebrity persona, there was a child-like wonder in his eyes as he neared the hippo enclosure. 

Bryony nudged him, “Look at you, all giddy.”

“It's not every day you get to visit with your hippo bestie!” he retorted.

Rosie briefed Dieter about the photo op, emphasizing the importance of promoting his role as an ambassador for the zoo. The zookeepers had set up a special private event, allowing Dieter to feed Fiona a pumpkin, marking the beginning of the fall season.

Bryony watched, amusement clear in her eyes, as Dieter gingerly held the pumpkin out towards Fiona, his eyes wide in awe as the massive creature gently took the treat from him. The flashes from cameras around captured the moment, but Bryony knew the true joy in Dieter's heart would remain a cherished memory.

“I can't believe this is my second time meeting Fiona!” Dieter gushed as they walked away from the enclosure, his steps light despite the cold. “Thank you, Bry, for coming out here with me.”

She let out a small chuckle and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, I had to make sure you didn't try to jump into the enclosure or something. That, and making sure you actually came home.”

Dieter chuckled. “I might be a lot of things, but I’m not about to leave you for Fiona. Anyway, I think, just maybe, you rank a tiny bit higher than Fiona in my heart.”

Raising an eyebrow, she teased, “Really? Even after she just let you feed her a pumpkin?”

He winked at her, “Well, Fiona might let me feed her pumpkins, but you let me—”

Bryony cut him off with a laugh, “Let's keep in G rated Bravo, we’re in a family establishment.” Reaching out, she intertwined her fingers with his and pulled him close. She rose up on her toes to press her lips against his. When they parted, she smiled up at him, never tired of the dopey grin he got when they kissed,  “But why don't we head back to the hotel and you can elaborate on what it is I let's you do?”

[carcare5k]

How to Identify the Best Ceramic Coating Shop Near Me

When it comes to maintaining your car, finding the right services nearby can save time and ensure quality care. For superior paint protection, a "ceramic coating shop near you" offers the latest solutions to keep your vehicle's exterior sleek and damage resistant. In Coimbatore, the best car service centers provide comprehensive care, from regular maintenance to advanced detailing. In emergencies, a reliable breakdown car service can get you back on the road quickly. For smoother drives, a trusted wheel alignment center near you ensures precision and longer tire life. Additionally, keeping your vehicle comfortable in all weather, a "car AC filling service near you" ensures your air conditioning system works efficiently.

[mariamakeslemons]

Chapter 6 (Run over by a Clown Car)

So, when I say witch, I mean basically a magician with a familiar. Wizards are just magicians, no familiar of any kind. The reason I say this is I'm introducing an OC who is Reader's teacher this chapter!

TW: Mild mention of gore.

You blink awake slowly, confused as to how you ended up in your bedroom when the last thing you remember is passing out in the forest near the Killer Rabbit’s cave. Turning your head, you see it’s only the next day, but that just confuses you more. How did you end up in bed? How did you not wake up wherever the tall bastard would have dragged you?

Sitting up in bed, you suddenly stop at the sight of a white wrap on your arm. You know you were injured yesterday due to the fucking Bond summoning Spirits to attack you, blood dripping dramatically down your arm and neck. Who would have treated your injuries? Ogun lets out a happy trill, catching your attention as he flies overhead, tight circles over the desk in your room. Slowly, you slide out of your bed and stumble over to the desk, your hands bracketing in a note.

‘Give me a call when you wake up, so I know you’re okay. I dressed your scratches as best I could, but I needed to get back to Base. Also, when you call, let’s hash out the details for our next date.

~Your soulmate, Kyle Garrick’

You stare at the note, your brain seeming to screech to a halt before spinning at everything Kyle’s written for you. He knows that he’s your soulmate? He treated your injuries? He was in your room? Taking a breath, you spin on the ball of your foot, walk back to your bed, and flop face first into the mattress to scream out your embarrassment and horror. Ogun lands and makes tutting noises at you, the judgmental prick.

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

Gaz enters your shop, sidestepping a woman with bright red, curly hair. She gives him a brief double take, before blinking and giving him a smile. He smiles back, before jumping when a tiny girl hurries after the woman, nearly tripping over her feet. The woman catches the girl and the pair walk down the street without a word.

“Kyle?! What are you doing here?!” you yelp, getting his attention with ease. You look so flustered at the sight of him, that he finds himself smitten all over again.

“Hello, Love,” he greets you, walking up to the desk as you give Ogun a panicked look. The phoenix lets out its laugh-like cry, flapping his wings at your flustered panic. Gaz’s smile grows as you keep glancing at him, before averting your wide eyes. Fuck, you’re sweet. He gets up to the desk and leans on it, amused by your starstruck look and flustered behavior.

“So, I was hoping to ask you out for another date,” he opens with, chuckling when you list a little in your surprise. You straighten back up as you fidget with your fingers, the cute fluster getting replaced with nerves. Gaz immediately clocks it, his grin dropping as he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“…Are you just asking because you know now?” you ask softly, “I never wanted you to feel like you had to love me, just because the fates declared you’re my soulmate.”

“No,” Gaz stops you, “No, it wasn’t about finding out that we’re soulmates, which we will talk about, by the way. It’s because I find myself smitten with a gorgeous witch who’s too sweet for their own good.” The way you look at him, like you want to believe him, but don’t know if you can. Instead of trying to repeatedly tell you the same thing, which you likely won’t believe, he instead continues, “I just want to take y’ out on a date.” You fidget some more, before slowly nodding.

“Okay,” you eventually agree, only for both of you to jump when the door to your shop slams open.

“Child, what is this I hear of you fainting while preforming a spell?!” an old man roars, startling Gaz. The man’s beard is pretty impressive, but he’s built like Ghost while bulked up. He’s wearing robes and a fatherly frown of concern.

“Master Prometheus!” You choke out, scurrying out from behind the desk to hug the man, “Welcome back, sir!”

“Yes, yes,” the man, Prometheus, sighs, his expression softening as he hugs you back, “It is good to see you again, Child. However, that will not distract me from asking about your fainting, nor questioning about this young man here.” Gaz snaps to attention when the old man’s gold eyes turn to him, looking him over contemplatively.

“Sargeant Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, sir. I’m their soulmate, and I was asking them out on a date,” Gaz explains. The old man hums low in his throat, squinting at Gaz before leaning back.

“I see, you’ve spoken with Lady Primrose,” Prometheus comments, releasing you from his arms to really look Gaz over, “She spoke to you of the Child’s ancestry and your connection to them. Under the belief that they had cast a spell on you.”

“I can’t excuse that,” Gaz admits, “But there’ve been records of soldiers going after witches before claiming that they’re in love. With their seeming connection to König, it wouldn’t have seemed too out of place for a witch doing something with a mercenary to put a spell on a soldier.” The old witch frowns down at Gaz, narrowing his eyes at the confession. You look at Gaz, an obvious confliction of feeling on your face, hurting his heart.

“Love,” he says, “I didn’t even think you cast any spell on me until Captain Price brought up the worry. He only brought it up because of how quickly I fell in love with you.”

“Love?” you repeat, the confliction leaving your face to only be replaced by shock, “You love me?” Gaz jolts, realizing what he said. And, it’s true, he’s absolutely in love with you. In less than a month, Gaz has found himself falling ass over tea kettle in love with you, and he finds himself okay with that.

“Yeah,” he admits, “Yeah, I’m in love with you.” You look at him in shock, as if in disbelief that he could feel this way about you. He’s so tempted to lean close to you, to kiss your slack mouth over and over until you’re truly breathless. He wants to make you pliant with affection, all sweet and soft for him.

“As pleased as I am that you two are establishing a relationship,” Prometheus cuts in, smirking when you and Gaz jolt away from each other, “I have questions to ask my dear student, namely why they seem so weak.”

“I don’t know,” you immediately confess, “Since you last saw me, someone Bound themselves to me, but that doesn’t drain magic, especially if the person Bonding is human.” Prometheus hums thoughtfully, stroking his beard at your words.

“You were Bound?” the old man asks. You nod and tell him the same story you told Gaz when he first showed up. About the insane woman, her demands for learning necromancy, König Binding himself to you, and how you used a Decay spell on him.

“Do you know how the girl made him rise?” Prometheus asks.

“Yeah, I know how. She stole one of the books, not a proper grimoire, but one that most beginner witches use to study theory,” you answer, surprising Gaz. He thought you didn’t know how she accomplished raising König from the dead.

“Wait, you knew how she did it?” Gaz asks.

“Well, yeah,” you confess, “I told your Captain as much when they showed up on the day that Leprechaun showed up.” Gaz winces, feeling a bit like an idiot. After all, Price had said he was there to ask questions when they showed up. He just hadn’t listened, too busy talking to Soap to pay attention.

“Still, for her to have figured out how to create a spell from mere theory…” the old witch mumbles to himself. Suddenly, you jump and glare over your shoulder at no one. Well, no one that Gaz can see, but he knows exactly who it is.

“Is it König?” Gaz asks, seeing Prometheus arch an eyebrow at the Austrian’s callsign.

“Unfortunately,” you grouse, waving your hand in irritation at where the ghost probably is.

“Who is this person and why are they egotistical enough to call themselves ‘King’?” the old man asks, causing both you and Gaz to laugh. Because he’s right. The giant of a man was egotistical outside of his work, where his ego is admittedly warranted due to his competence. But any other time, the man is an uncomfortable nuisance at best.

“Stop whining,” you order, wiping a tear from your eye while still giggling, “Where is your corpse right now?” Gaz watches as your grin drops into the most incredulous expression he’s ever seen on your face as you look up at where the fuck’s hooded face is.

“What,” you deadpan, sounding so done with everything the fucker has put you through. There’s another pause, before you bury your head in your hands.

“Why are you like this? Why do you do this? Why?” you question, muffled by your hands covering your face.

“What happened, Love?” Gaz asks, concerned by your reaction.

“He got ran over by a clown car on a country road,” you tell them. Gaz feels his brain short circuit, trying to figure out what that’s supposed to even mean.

“As in there were many people in that car, or a literal car filled with clowns?” Prometheus asks, sound as thrown off as Gaz feels.

“The later,” you admit without hesitation.

“What th’ fuck,” Gaz wheezes as Ogun lets out a drawn out keen.

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

It took a few minutes to gather everything you might need, but soon enough Gaz stands beside Prometheus once more, on a country road, as you calm down the very literal group of clowns that crowd around the semi-flattened, semi-scraped corpse belonging to the Austrian.

“I don’t know if I’m impressed or concerned that he was killed in such a manner,” the old witch murmurs, looking over the corpse almost curiously.

“Considering he’s died from peeing on a Leprechaun, falling down a flight of stairs, Ogun sneezing on him, and a killer rabbit,” Gaz ticks off idly, “I’m not.” Prometheus frowns at the list, looking confused and thoughtful at the described deaths.

“Those are not normal deaths,” the old man mumbles, almost to himself. Gaz bites his tongue to not say something sarcastic, instead watching as you wave off the clowns, who were packing back into the small car.

“I’ll never understand clowns,” you declare, cracking your knuckles and neck before turning to König’s corpse, healing the body in preparation for raising him.

“Why?” Gaz asks, “Don’t they have magic?”

“Usually not,” you say, squatting down to start coaxing the Austrian’s body back together, “But they can still pull weird shit off like that. The car’s not enchanted, none of the clowns have magic, and yet…” Gaz purses his lips at that, realizing that you are absolutely correct with that declaration of weirdness. He nods in agreement as you knit the corpse’s skin back together over the scrapes while “inflating” the crushed parts. Prometheus leans forward, clicking his tongue and poking at the corpse himself.

“You’ve put in a lot of your magic into him, Child,” the old witch comments.

“Unfortunately,” you agree, “I’ve been Bound to him for six years.” Prometheus’ head snaps up, looking at you seriously.

“…I see,” he intones, pulling back reluctantly to stand beside Gaz.

“Why do you keep calling them Child?” Gaz asks as you work on remaking König’s clothes.

“That is their fae name,” Prometheus explains, “like my name of Prometheus is a fae name. It is to keep us safe from the fair folk.” Gaz lets out a noise of understand as you stand back up and start chanting again. The old man’s frown deepens, as he obviously knows just what you’re saying as you cast your spell.

“…Is this the spell they’ve been using around you?” Prometheus asks.

“Yes, Sir,” Gaz answers, watching you carefully as the Austrian starts to shift and move as he returns to his body. The old man lets out a low growl at that, one that makes Gaz want to look at the man, but he sees you swaying concerningly and hurries over to support you instead.

“Fuck,” you groan, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes, “migraine.”

“C’mon, Love,” Gaz encourages, “Let’s get you home.”

“Do not worry about a portal, Child,” Prometheus tells you, waving his own hand to summon one of his own. Gaz gives the old witch a smile, which is ignored as the old man is staring down König.

“Thank you, Master Prometheus,” you sigh, smiling when the old man pats your head idly, before shooing you both through the portal. Gaz follows you into your shop, supporting you as he walks you toward the stairs leading to your apartment over the shop.

“Wait,” you rasp, “Wait, no. I can go up without you, I promise.”

“I want to make sure you’re okay,” he explains softly, “I want to help you. I want to, Love.” The look on your face breaks and fills his heart in equal parts. A look that tells him you dreamed of this sort of situation, and now you’re just waiting to wake up. You turn your head from him, a small smile on your face that he can’t quite figure out.

“I only need a nap and I should be good,” you whisper.

“Then, I’ll be here until you wake up,” Gaz promises, getting another look from you. Taking a risk, he presses a kiss to your forehead, unable to help the smile from crossing his face as you seem to melt. He helps you over to your bed and supports you as you slowly lower onto the mattress.

“Take as long as you need,” he instructs you, helping tuck you in, “I’ll be here.”