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queenquinzel715 · 2 years ago

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Jethro Gibbs An undercover job turns to romance

Wrd count: 4,313

Warning: adult content, knife cutting (no self harm)

Jethro Gibbs (I know nothing about the military protocols so just believe it lol)

(Y/n) P.O.V

My morning was going just like all the others. I'd wake up, eat breakfast, fill my travel mug with coffee, and go to work. However halfway through my eggs, bacon, and toast when my cell phone rings. I sigh as I place my book down, and answer.

"(L/n)." I answer.

"(Y/n) we need you to come in. We have a… well the best type hinky." I hear Abby's cheery voice.

"Okay I'll be right there." I hung up with her.

I quickly get dressed into my scrubs, pull my hair into a high ponytail. Once on the road I make a quick stop for gas, and a couple drinks for my fellow colleagues. As I walk into the NCIS building I greet security and others as I get into the elevator. I hear heavy metal music as the doors open, and it brings a smile to my face.

"Good morning, Abby." I smile at her as I place her big gulp next to her quick fingers.

"Y/n you doll." Abby gives me a big smile before she takes a sip.

"What's the big hinky?" I laugh at her excited smile.

"Well this morning Gibbs and his gang had a call to this military housing neighborhood, and found a newlywed couple completely torn apart." She informs me.

"And?" I push because I know there's more by here turning to the computer screen.

"I've already found a handful of murders that were just swept under the rug, because they didn't have any sort of evidence." She walks over to a table. "Until I figured out the weapon is both a hunter's knife, and a scalpel." She then smiles in triumph.

"It's like you're a psychic, and you just give us pieces to throw us off." I laugh with her, but it's short lived by Special Agent Gibbs walking in with a box full of evidence.

"Abby, this is for you. (Y/n) I need you upstairs." He walks back toward the door. "Thanks for getting her here, Abbs." He says just as he walks out.

I give Abby a quick look before quickly walking to the elevator. Gibbs and I stay in silence the whole way until we get to the group looking at multiple people's pictures on a screen.

"(Y/n) great." McGee says. "We need you to go on an undercover operation. I just need you to pick a male that will pass for a Marine." He runs off like I knew what he was talking about.

"Gibbs?" I look at him with a pointed look, hoping he'd fill in the spots.

"We know the killer is going after newlyweds, so you are the bride." He smirks once he's finished. "I already have an idea of who it is, but of course we need to prove I'm right. I picked you for this." He ends his speech there.

"Okay." I turn to McGee. "What do I need to do?"

The rest of the day I'm given a crash course on how the undercover business works, and once I was done with my three hours course I found out that Gibbs is going to be my husband. I returned to the gang's area, and saw Gibbs watching the others talk.

"So my dear husband, how will our wedding work, hmm? Quick courthouse, or are you just gonna throw me over your shoulder like a caveman." I joke as I sit on the corner of his desk.

"Well I was thinking the club over the head would be easier." He smirks at me when I gasp. "You asked."

"So seriously, does this start immediately today?" I ask, grabbing the file about the suspect.

"You are a free woman until tomorrow night, and then we will sign the marriage certificate. I will get my uniforms, the address we will set up, and we will begin then." He puts away his belongings, and as he stands he pulls on his coat. "Chinese or pizza?" He asks.

"Chinese." I respond as I follow behind him.

This has been a new norm for me and Gibbs for a couple months now. I was pretty bad when I had to end my engagement, because my fiance was sleeping with our neighbor. An entire five year relationship down the drain. I didn't leave the lab for two weeks before Gibbs and Abby came knocking on my door. Apparently Abby had some concerns for my sanity so she went to Gibbs, and he came straight to the lab. Ever since then he has taken me to dinner every other day, or brings me dinner in the lab.

Tonight, we sit inside a little Chinese restaurant eating in a comfortable silence. With Gibbs I've learned, to much relief, I don't have to speak unless I absolutely want to.

"How's the boat coming along?" I ask as we throw away our trash.

"Pain in the ass." He chuckles.

-next morning-

I walked into the office a little bit early with coffees, and sat at Gibb's desk until I saw DiNozzo walk in with Kate in a heated discussion.

"Oh please DiNozzo all because you think it's him doesn't mean it is." Kate rolls her eyes at him, but lights up when she sees me holding a coffee cup in the air for her.

"(Y/n) you've read the files right?" I give DiNozzo nod in response. "Okay so don't you think it's Corporal Simon. He just fits every creepy fib." He acts like he's shaking.

"All because he's creepy doesn't mean anything, DiNozzo." Gibbs says before I could open my mouth. "And you. Why are you at my desk?" He says in my direction.

I simply hold up the coffee cup.

"Aw lovely wife boss." DiNozzo gets smacked in the back of the head for that.

For the next couple of hours I'm with Abby in the lab testing blood samples, fingerprints, and retesting the little bit of evidence for the past murders. By two in the afternoon Gibbs came to the lab to collect me, and my bags to go to our new home. Once there we five the whole moving in show I'm giving direction to Gibbs and DiNozzo as they carry furniture. Inside I'm dying of laughter, because every time Gibbs gives me a side eye I know he wants to tell me something smart. We had pizza delivered and sent DiNozzo back to the office.

"How do you want the sleeping arrangements to go?" I ask as I clean up the trash.

"Well I usually fall asleep in my boat." He speaks in a voice full of normalcy.

"Gibbs! That's not good." I fuss. "You told me "you can't do things that harm your body, or we won't solve shit" and look at you breaking your body down." I continued to fuss, and didn't realize Gibbs had gotten up from the table.

"Yea. I know." His voice comes right behind me as his hand drops the fork into the sink. "Then tell me where to sleep." He looks into my eyes.

"I put bedding in both rooms, so just pick one." I nervously turn back toward the sink.

"I'll take the room closer to the living room just in case." He grabs our bags by the doors, and goes toward the rooms.

Over the next couple days Gibbs, Kate, DiNozzo, and McGee have ran around the entire Marine Base to find who's actually the murder, but since I'm the stay at home wife I'm doing home things. I've taken broken down boxes to the trash, messed in the garden in the front yard, and went grocery shopping at the grocery store on base to meet other stay at home wives. As I'm taking the groceries into the house I hear a female yell hello through the front door. I secure my gun in the waist of my pants before walking to the door. A brunette woman is standing with a big smile, and a wrap covered plate.

"I didn't mean to intrude. I just wanted to say hello, and welcome you to the neighborhood." She smiles at me. "My name is Christine."

"Well that's so kind. I'd invite you inside, but the place is a complete mess." I give a smile as I take the plate.

"Oh I understand. I just wanted to drop off some sweets, and let you know if you need anything I can help. I work in the main office, so I can pull some strings." She gives me a wink.

"Well that's comforting to know." I laugh. "Thank you again, but I have to get dinner started before my husband Jethro comes home." I give a small wave as I shut the door watching her walk down the driveway.

I place the plate on the counter as I call Gibbs.

"Yes Mrs. Gibbs?" He answers.

"I was wondering when you will be back. I just met the most wonderful person." I vaguely respond.

"Be back in an hour. Everything okay?" He asks quietly.

"Yes, perfectly fine." I reassure him, and he hangs up.

Just like clockwork, an hour later Gibbs, and Kate walk through the door. I'm pulling the chicken out of the oven as Kate walks into the kitchen.

"Smells great (y/n)." She comments.

"Thank you. I love cooking." I hand her a plate, which she takes with a great smile.

"So who was this neighbor you met today?" Gibbs gets to the point as I walk to the table where they have everything set up.

"A woman named Christine. She didn't exactly say she was a neighbor, just that she worked in the main office and could pull some strings in case I needed anything, and handed me the plate of cookies there on the counter." I say pointing to the still wrapped plate. "Told her I had to get dinner ready for my new husband Jethro." As I fill him in on what else happened in my day I'm fixing both of our plates, because I realized he hasn't even looked in the kitchen direction.

"She does have access to high documents, and can cut through a lot of red tape." Gibbs informs me, and gives me a thank you nod when he takes the plate.

"Wait, can I see the witness report again?" I ask, and Kate hands it to me.

I read through the report, and found where a witness saw a brunette white woman, with long legs, short torso, and pointed face. I place the paper down as I point out the passage I read.

"This describes Christine." I inform them.

"I figured." Gibbs sighs. "We'll follow up on this in the morning. Thank you." He holds up the paper as he drinks the rest of his beer.

Once dinner is over Kate leaves. Gibbs goes to the garage, and I to the bath. I can't help but think how this is so simple for us. How we fit into the role perfectly, but I know it has to end. After I clean the rest of the kitchen I come out to find Gibbs glaring at the evidence board from the garage door. I take his empty bottle, replacing it with a new one.

"You already know who's doing this, don't you?" I lean against the table.

He leans next to me with his arms crossed.

"My gut tells me it's Christine. The evidence we have points to her office." He shakes his head.

I give him a hum in response as I stand on my feet. I can feel his eyes watching me while I walk toward my room. I do turn back at him with a soft smile before going to the door. I throw on my tank top and shorts for bed, and end up just laying there in frustration. I haven't had any sort of touch since my ex, but I can't do anything like that here with Gibbs' falcon hearing. I lay there for three hours until I've had enough, and I throw the blankets off me. I grumble under my breath as I open my bedroom door, but I quietly walk down the hall to the kitchen. I pull pb&j stuff out only for the garage door to open. I grab the large knife from the knife stand, and throw it at the door, only for it to get stuck in the doorframe.

"Whoa! It's me." Gibbs holds his hands up as he comes into the light better.

"Oh my God Jethro I'm so sorry." I run toward him, but he grabs my hand before I could grab his.

"Good throw." He keeps my hands into his one while he pulls the knife out of the wall.

"Good throw?! Gibbs, that's all you can say?" I keep freaking out.

"I thought it was Jethro." He looks into my eyes with a smirk.

He lets go of my hands to go put the knife back. He then starts making a sandwich.

"I…well..it just came out." I stumble over my words, and my face heats up.

"I think you should get used to calling me Jethro." He keeps his back to me while he speaks.

I'm too nervous to say anything, but he soon turns with two sandwiches in his hands. He holds out one to me with a paper towel wrapped around it as he takes a bite of his.

"Thank you Jethro." I smile as I take the sandwich.

We end up sitting on the counter, and Jethro telling me stories. We laugh, I joke about his military days, and he jokes about my technical "support" skills. The sun is starting to rise as my eyes become heavy.

"You should go get some sleep." He softly says.

"You're right, but so should you." I look over at him as he gets down.

"I will." He softly holds my arm as I get off the counter.

We separate into our rooms, and he is gone by the time I wake up. I stay inside for the day, and just watch movies. My phone rings as I'm stepping into the bath, and it's Jethro. I sit on the side of the tubs as I answer.

"Yes Jethro?"

"I have pizza for dinner." He simply tells me.

"That's nice." I sarcastically respond, trying not to laugh.

"I'll get you garlic bread. What is that noise?" He has the most annoying hearing.

"That is the bathtub water running." I run my foot in the hot water.

"I'll be there in an hour." He then hangs up causing me to laugh.

I'm too relaxed to hear the front door opening, but when I hear doors opening I call out for Jethro. When I don't get a response I slowly get out of the bath, wrapping my house robe on. I'm about to reach for the gun I have in my nightstand when the door is burst open. I give a scream of surprise, but I'm quickly shut up by a gun being pointed at me. Christine comes creeping into the room with a hard look in her eyes.

"What are you doing?" I keep up the act, hopefully I can stall until Jethro gets here.

"Living room, now." She demands.

I timidly walk to the living room with my hands raised, and slowly sit on the couch. I watch her look around the living room, and kitchen before she comes in front of me. She points her gun at my head as she sits on the table directly in front of me.

"So tell me how long have you and hubby been together?" She asks, sounding sweet.

"Y..year." I look confused.

"Ahhh newly newlyweds." She stood to go over to the bag she had put on the loveseat. "I was with my husband for six years before we decided to get married." She turns with rope and a knife in her hands. "We then were married for two before he was deployed. He was a Marine that was sent overseas, obviously that's all he could tell me. I was kept in the dark the whole time while my husband was tortured by terrorists." She takes her seat back on the table. "Tell me what do you think Jethro would do if you were taken."

"I…I don't know. I'd hope he'd help me." I shake from her moving the knife closer.

"Sad isn't it? Shouldn't the answer be something on the lines of "he'd burn the whole world apart" or "he'd never stop looking"?" She cuts the arms of my robe open to the elbow. "You want to know what the US military does to help their Marines?" I scream from her cutting a short cut going down my arm. "Quiet!" She shoves pieces of robe into my mouth. "Four men died because the US tried to play into the terrorists computer, instead of simply allowing the terrorists into the Union, and they would let the Marines go." She cuts another line. "They could've said they would allow it, get the Marines, and then grab the terrorists!" Her voice gets louder as she goes.

I see movement from the corner of my eye, but I keep watching Christine move the knife around. She goes to cut my arm again when the front door, garage door, and backdoor open.

"Freeze NCIS!" I hear from my three favorite people.

Jethro comes in through the backdoor, DiNozzo through the garage door, and Kate comes in the front with their guns raised. Christine looks at me in surprise as she drops the knife and gun. Jethro softly grabs my face to make me lock eyes with him.

"I'm here. Come on." He helps me stand, walk to my room while the others handcuff Christine.

I'm quiet as Jethro cleans up my wounds with the first aid kit I keep in my bag. I'm so out of it my robe opens slightly, and I didn't realize until Jethro closed it more. He gives a deep sigh as he cleans up the trash.

"Thank you Jethro." I timidly tell him as he goes to walk out.

He turns back, and kisses me hard with a hand on my cheek, his other on my thigh. I grip his shirt in my hands as I kiss him back. We pull apart after a moment, and rest our heads against each other.

That night my nerves were level, and everythings calmed down. I start packing up, and put the bags in the garage for the guys to load up. Tomorrow the movers will come for the rest.

"Ready." Jethro walks up to me, grabbing my bag.

"Yes. I checked everywhere to make sure nothing was left." I tell him as we walk to his car.

"Tomorrow morning we need to meet at the director's office." He informs me, once we are on the road.

He helps me carry my bags into my apartment, and shuts the door. I softly smile at him as he walks toward me. I rest my hands on his shoulders as his hand rests on my waist. He kisses me deeply as he pulls me to his chest. I melt against him, having my fingers run along his shaved hair. I gasp when we pull back, but his warm hands moving up my back makes me softly moan.

"Room." He orders.

"Yes sir." I give him a sly smile as I walk him toward my room.

I hear him chuckle as he follows me, but once to the door he pulls me in from my waist. I throw my shirt off so I can feel his hands again. While he works on the buttons of my pants he gives me soft kisses to my neck. I lean my head against his shoulder just melting against him. The feeling of being protected feels so much more different, but amazing. He flattens his hands to slide my pants down, and he lets me walk out of them. I turn to him, locking eyes with him as I lay on my bed.

"You sure about this?" He asks me while untucking his shirt.

"I'm more than sure." I give him a straight answer.

Once he gets down to his boxers he crawls over me with a dark look in his eyes. I put my hands on his cheeks to pull him into a deep kiss. His skillful hands unhook my bra, making me throw it behind him. I move my hand along his shoulders while he kisses along my neck to my chest.

"Jethro." I moan softly when his lips wrap around my nipple.

He wraps his arm around my lower back pulling me closer, biting lightly on my nipple. His other hand moves my underwear down, but once he got to my thigh, he had pulled back to snatch them off my ankles. My legs open back up for him to lay comfortably in between them. He looks me in the eyes as he slides his boxers off. My knees rest on his hips, relaxing into the bed, feeling him rub against my entrance. Him slowly entering me makes a shiver take over my body, but Jethro deeply groans. His hand grips my thigh in a tight grip, causing it to rise higher.

"(Y/n)." He rests his head on my shoulder.

"Please move Jethro." I whine.

He starts to move back some only to piston back inside. My body arches up to his chest, and my throat closes on the scream that wants to leave. All I could do was grip his bicep, lock my ankles together, and enjoy the feeling of him stretching me. The feeling of his hands, his deep harsh movements, and the tightening feeling in my stomach. I start to lose my mind.

"Let go for me." He groans in my ear before he kisses my neck.

He kisses me as he goes harder making it very difficult to let my moans out, but I just hold onto his back as he just lets go. With a deep groan and final thrust Jethro and I finish together with a loud moan from me. He lays next to me with an arm under my head as we catch our breath.

"Wow." I breathed out.

He chuckles, turning over, and grips my lips with his forefinger and thumb. I giggle as we kiss a lot more softly now. We lay together for a while before finally getting in the shower. I did think Jethro was going to leave, however when I went back to lay down he joined me. I slept amazing with his warmth next to me whenever I would turn.

When I wake up I see a hand placing a coffee mug on my nightstand, and a hand rubbing along my side.

"You got to wake up. We still have to work." He talks quietly in my ear.

"Thank you." I smile as I reach for the mug.

"You are quite welcome." He chuckles as he grabs his clothes.

"Jethro!" I giggle at his joke, placing my hand over my eye.

"I'll see you at the office. I have to change." He says as he throws his clothes on.

Once he leaves I finish my coffee, get dressed, and try to keep the smile off my face as I walk into the office.

"Well what made you so smiley this morning?" Abby asks as I walk into the lab, and pull on my lab coat.

"I'm just glad to have my bed back." Is all I tell her.

"Is that so?" I hear behind me.

I turned to a smirking Jethro holding a cardboard cup holder with two coffees, and in his hand was a big gulp for Abby.

"Jet…Gibbs." I exclaim almost messing up.

"Morning Abs." He hands her the drink, and walks back to me.

"(Y/n)." He hands me a coffee. "Director needs us." He leans me with a hand on my lower back to the elevator.

"I'm sorry I didn't know if you were okay with me saying anything, or if…" I'm stopped by him stepping closer to me.

He kisses me softly like he's been doing so for his whole life. I'm just about to relax into him when the elevator opens, and there stands Kate and McGee. They are shocked when they finally realize what they just saw. I step out of the elevator, quickly getting to the director's office. I stop at his door, and wait for Jethro. Jethro walks up the hall with purpose, and goes right into the office.

"Alright let's get you two divorced." Director Morrow places the papers in front of Jethro.

"What if we don't sign?" Jethro asks so nonchalantly.

Director Morrow looks lost as he turns his attention to me, then back to Jethro. I'm just frozen from shock.

"I'll let you two talk." Vance leaves quickly, and once he's gone Jethro turns to me.

"What are you doing Jethro?" I timidly ask.

"Well I was thinking how easy it was for us to be together this week." He starts. "We don't have to sign just yet. Let's give it some time, and then if you want we can sign these papers." He lifts them as he speaks.

"So you're making me number three?" I sass.

He shrugs as he throws the papers back on the director's desk. The rest of the day DiNozzo gave Jethro so much crap about how he didn't get to throw a bachelor party. I also got an ear full from Abby about how I should get a big dress. Kate was like an older sister asking me if being married is what I wanted. Her being Catholic marriage is a big thing, but after telling her how I felt, she understood.

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ominoose · 8 months ago

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𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐳𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲

Pairing: Jake Lockley x AFAB!Autistic!Reader Summary: Short fluff self-insert with Jake because fandoms gotta become cringe again. Also shout out to Bigfoot enjoyers! Warnings: None WC: 779

“And so like, they weren’t even just screaming, they were vocalising! Phonetically they were forming words, like there was cadence to it, y’know?!”

“Mh hm.” Jake nodded, nursing the coffee mug in his hand, watching the short woman pace back and forth across the kitchen, her own cup of tea completely forgotten and abandoned on the table like many others over the ages. Poor things.

“And- And the University of Wyoming studied the recordings for a year! And guess what!”

The man was an expert at this, and knew well the question was rhetorical, there wouldn’t be enough time to actually get a ‘What?’ in there. Instead, he widened his eyes a little as he took another sip of bitter coffee, waiting expectantly for the next revelation.

“They said the noises were from lungs that were larger in capacity than humans! And it was an actual deliberate language!” The huge grin, wide eyes and shaking of her hands marked the clear importance of the sentence, this was not a finding to be taken lightly.

“No way.”

Coming home from a late shift in the cab, Jake usually would’ve poured a glass of whiskey, kicked off his shoes, loosened his tie and claimed the couch to binge some shitty reality tv. Sue him, it was entertaining to be invested in drama that was less world ending over godly feuds and more Becky's boyfriend kissing her ex. If his girl came to sit beside him and let him use her thighs as a stress toy, it was the recipe for a perfect night.

When he came home tonight to see his beautiful girl practically bouncing on her toes, hands stimming, actively chewing back a smile and practically bursting at the seams with some hot info instead, how could he not walk over and get his fill? After all, she info-dumped with more passion than any gossip the Kardashians could give. As her man, it was his solemn duty to share her burdens, even if that burden was her excitement over some Bigfoot evidence from some random American woods.

“I also heard that the area the sounds were recorded historically had a lot of Chinese settlers- and the vocalisations have a large resemblance to Mandarin! I mean that, like, implies the Bigfoot community only either cropped up at that period or something but, like, it’s still insane I mean can you imagine we haven’t encountered Bigfoot yet because they all speak Chinese and can’t understand us?” How she spewed so much without taking a single breath was a mystery in and of itself, those crypto-whatsits oughta look into that.

“Who’s ‘we’, bebita? There’s only one American in this room and that’s me. Stop trying to steal my guy.”

“Your guy?” The smile on her face grew, adoring that he entertained her info-dumps and enamored with his cheek, “Since when did Bigfoot go to New York?”

The Latino shrugged, completely nonchalant as he drained the last of his coffee.

“When he calls my cab to take him there.” The curl of his lips betrayed his own amusement and the short woman giggled as she bounced into his lap, hands patting his shoulders.

Stimming was still a relatively new concept to Jake. To him, he understood it as needing to shake off big feelings, good or bad, before they drowned you. He could understand that, feelings were a fuckin’ lot even to him, and he didn’t have autism (no matter how much his amor tried to peer review him, he’d dodge those accusations like he dodged the Avengers).

Seeing her stim to him, with him, over him, that was intimate. That coiled into his very soul, snug and warm. Knowing her feelings for him were so strong, so intense she had to literally, physically, manage them before they made her heart explode? It was literally impossible for the thoughts in his head to try and do some self-sabotage. No one could tell him she didn’t love him, not even himself.

That wasn’t even accounting for the obvious fact that she felt safe enough to shake her heart around right in front of him, with that beautiful smile too. She’d kill him before any bullet or cultist ever could, and he’d accept it with open arms.

“You think that Mothman guy and Bigfoot are amigos? Think they’ve ever hooked up?”

The light in her eyes when he casually sprinkled her other hyper-fixation in there, always making a point of showing he remembered each and every detail of her spiels, could lead him out of the darkest black hole.

“You’re weird, Jake Lockley.” Her giggle was girlish, high pitched and sweet as honey, “They’re divorced, actually.”

#jake lockley x reader #oscar isaac #omiwrites

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sequinsmile-x · 2 months ago

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Salience

/ˈseɪlɪəns/ Noun

the quality of being particularly noticeable or important; prominence.

-x-

Hi friends <3 this is a fic for the lovely @ssa-sparks who deserves the entire world and who I love very dearly.

Hope you all like this, and let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: burns, panic attack/flashback

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She felt anxious.

Not in the way she was used to these days, but in a way she hadn’t felt since she was a teenager, all long limbs and insecurity about who she was as she tried to get the attention of the boy she liked. It was odd feeling this way as a grown woman. She knew who she was, a sense of self she’d clawed out of the grave that had once borne her name, the new her built out of the ashes of who she used to be. The fluttering in her stomach, the pleasant nerves thrumming under her skin as she stood on the brink of something new was enjoyable, entirely different to the pit she’d had there for months, the heavy weight that had settled low in her gut ever since she found out Ian had escaped from prison, and it was all because of one man.

Part of her wondered if Aaron would ever actually ask her out. They’d skirted around it for months, both of them a little shy because of everything they’d been through, and for a while, she wondered if they’d ever take that leap. If they’d ever jump over the line that they’d walked like a tightrope for years, ready to hold each other’s hand on the way down. She was just days away from asking him out, from breaking the pact she’d made with herself that she’d let him make the first move because it would be important to him, when he did it. His smile soft as he passed her a glass of wine and asked if she wanted to go for dinner, as if that wasn’t exactly what they were doing at the time, Chinese food containers spread out on his coffee table as Jack slept just down the hall.

She thinks she said yes before he’d even finished asking the question, her answer prepared for much longer than she’d care to admit to even herself. She kissed him at his front door when she left that night, a gentle thing against his lips, an answer to a question she’d had for years about what he’d taste like. It had been three days since then and their date was tonight. Aaron had assured her that they wouldn’t end up having to go away on a case, something she was sure Penelope had something to do with, and she’d caught him looking at her all morning. His eyes fixed on her and his smile soft whenever she tried to sneak a look at him.

She knows coffee could tip her over the edge, that it would make her anxiety shift from strangely pleasant to overwhelming. As she waits for the tea kettle to boil she digs through the cupboards for some chamomile tea.

“So,” JJ says, appearing out of nowhere, smirking when Emily jumps for a split second before glaring at her, “You and Hotch are making eyes at each other so much I’m surprised either of you are getting any work done.”

Emily huffs out a breath and dumps a tea bag into a mug, “JJ-”

“Em, I’m just teasing you,” she says, leaning her hip against the counter, “Although, if you guys are this intense now I dread to think what you’ll be like after you’ve seen each other naked,” her smile gets wider when Emily rolls her eyes, “I’m happy for you both. We all are.”

Emily hums, “So everyone knows?”

“Hotch asked Penelope to make sure we didn’t get a case this weekend,” JJ says, her arms crossed loosely over her chest, “Plus, we’d be awful at our jobs if we didn’t see how the two of you are around each other.”

She suppresses a smile at that, warmth blooming in her chest, flowers of hope and something she refused to call love crowding her lungs, “Thats…” she drifts off, not sure what to say, still so used to hiding everything from everyone, even those she loved, that she struggled to share even when she wanted to, “Thank you.”

She lifts the tea kettle as it comes to a boil and starts to pour it into her mug. She’s distracted by the sound of familiar footsteps, by the smell of his cologne that was a calling card that let her know he was near, and she looks up for a split second.

“Em, careful-”

JJ’s warning is cut off as Emily’s hand moves just enough that the stream of boiling water slips over the edge of the mug and onto the hand holding it steady. She gasps, the pain burns through her and she drops the kettle down, a hiss of pain forcing itself past her lips.

“Fuck.”

JJ and Aaron spring into action simultaneously. JJ ensures the kettle is on the counter correctly, not wanting any more boiling water to spill on the floor. Aaron reaches out for Emily, his hand at her elbow as he starts to usher her towards the sink, saying something about needing to get her hand under cold water that she barely hears. Everything fades, even the pain. The edges of it fuzzy as she desperately tries to suck in a deep breath, her lungs aching as the smell of burning flesh overwhelms her, forcing her back into a memory she had tried her best to move forward from.

She’s immediately back there. The concrete floor cold and damp as it presses through her pants, the material of it sticking to her skin with what she knows isn’t her blood, yet, but the memory is confused. Everything happening all at once as she hears Ian’s laugh, a cruel callback to a sound she’d once found strange enjoyment in, the ability to make him laugh something she’d prided herself on when she lived under a different name. She can hear him taunting her, claiming her as his own as he leans over her, the scent of cigar smoke and whiskey on his breath mixing in with the smell of her skin burning.

Her chest feels like it’s on fire. Her skin melts as her lungs burn with the need for oxygen, and she can’t feel or see anything. Anything other than the smell of her burning skin out of reach as she desperately tries to scramble for it.

Everything comes flooding back in a moment, the shock of cold water on her hand bringing her back to herself as she sucks in a shallow breath. She looks around, desperate to pull her hand from whoever was holding it, their grip on her wrist the next thing she’s aware of as her senses return.

“Em,” Aaron says, his eyes soft and kind as she looks at him, “Em, it’s just me.”

“Wha…what happened?” She chokes out, her eyes wild as she looks around them and realises they are now in the accessible bathroom. She has no idea how they got here, and has visions of him leading her through the bullpen, his hands on her back as he guided her through their concerned colleagues, “When did we get here?”

“Don’t worry,” he says, smiling at her, his gaze flicking to her bright red hand under the cold water, “I didn’t carry you.”

She chokes on a laugh, the sound raw and painful as it forces itself from her still aching lungs, “Thank fuck for that,” she says, wiping her cheeks with her spare hand, grateful that he hasn’t acknowledged that she’s crying, “Being clumsy enough to pour boiling water over myself and having a panic attack in the same minute is embarrassing enough,” she says, her smile fading as she tries to fake it, the corners if it never quite catching in place, “Last thing I needed was my boss carrying me like I’m some damsel in distress.”

He smiles, reaching out with the hand not holding hers under the running water to tuck some hair behind her ear, the action so achingly gentle she has to stop herself from shying away from it on instinct, “You’re never a damsel in distress, Em,” he says, letting his knuckles linger on her cheek before he pulls back, not wanting to cross any lines, “You’re always the hero in my book.”

She laughs bitterly, not sure how that could be true given everything that had happened over the last year, “I already agreed to date you, Aaron,” she offers him a half smile, “You can stop wooing me.”

“Never.”

“Never?” She asks incredulously, furrowing her brows and he shakes his head, his smile turning shy in a way that makes him look young, making her wonder if this was the version of him that had asked once Haley out.

“We could be married 50 years and I’d still woo you,” he says, his eyes going wide as he realises what he’s said, and he clears his throat, his gaze once again fixed on her hand, “How does it feel?”

“Cold,” she says, smiling when he looks at her, a look of mild disbelief in his eyes, “It stings a little.”

“We have to keep it under here for 20 minutes. Then I’ll dress it for you. Good thing this is where we keep the first aid kit,” he smiles reassuringly in the way she’s seen him do with Jack when he presses Batman bandaids to his skinned knees and she wonders if he’ll kiss her injury better for her too. “What happened?”

She tenses, not wanting to get into it yet, the edges of her vision still blurry from her panic attack, “What?”

“How did you miss the mug?” He asks, “I’ve watched you hit the bullseye when playing darts and at the shooting range. Didn’t take you for the clumsy type.”

She rolls her eyes at herself, focusing on the burn in her cheeks rather than her hand and the phantom burn in her chest, and she looks down at the ground between them, “I…was distracted by you.”

He clears his throat, something that draws her attention up to him, and she watches him fight a smile, “Really?”

“Please don’t gloat whilst my skin is still blistering.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, winking at her, and she can’t help but smile, entirely unsure when he started to have this effect on her. When he managed to sneak under her defences, leaving them intact to everyone but him, and make her smile just minutes after she was thrown back into one of the worst moments of her life.

She hums, biting the inside of her cheek as she continues to try to centre herself, “Everyone saw me freak out?”

“JJ did. Derek came over when he heard you scream-”

“I screamed?” She asks, spitting it out, her cheeks warm with embarrassment drawn out of her by his naked honesty, his inability, and lack of willingness, to bullshit her as disarming as it was charming.

“You did just pour boiling water on your hand, Em,” he says, raising his eyebrow at her, “I think even you are allowed to react to that,” he quips and she huffs out a breath but nods, “They distracted everyone else and I brought you in here and locked the door,” he pulls her hand out of the stream of water for a moment to look at it before he returns it, the fresh sting of the coldness of it making her hiss, “I figured you wouldn’t want an audience.”

She smiles at that, the butterflies in her stomach briefly starting up again, their wings singed by the panic attack, the flutters not as strong as they had been all day, “Thank you.”

He smiles and nods, shrugging as if it was nothing, as if it wasn’t everything that he knew her well enough to get her somewhere no one else could see her, “You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart.”

The nickname makes her want to confess her love for him there and then just so she can hear it for the rest of her life. The way it catches on his voice, how it sounds as he wraps his tongue around the syllables, but she stops herself. She knows she loves him, and she knows he loves her too, but she never wants to associate it with this. Her last ever first I love you in the air still tinged with the smell of her burning skin and a phantom ache on her chest. She wanted it to just be about them, not about the man who’d done his best to make sure she never had anything like this.

Aaron keeps her hand under the water for exactly 20 minutes, an alarm on his watch that he stops from chiming the moment before it’s due. He guides her over to the toilet and closes the lid, encouraging her to sit down before he kneels in front of her, the first aid kit in hand.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks, his focus briefly on the kit as he looks for the bandages he needs. She’s grateful that he’s given her time, that he didn’t ask the second she could breathe again. She knows if she says no, that if she wants to keep it to herself, he won’t push. He won’t force her to talk until she is ready. It makes her want to tell him, her desire to keep it to herself nowhere to be found.

“It…” she clears her throat, unsure when she’d placed her good hand on her chest, her thumb rubbing back and forth over the brand covered by her shirt, the edges of it as familiar as the rest of her, “It was the smell.”

He read the report about what happened to her. She already knew that, but that the way he looks up at her, his eyes briefly lingering over where she’s rubbing soothing circles on a phantom ache, only confirms it. He nods, returning his focus to her hand, his touch soft as he wraps the bandage around it.

“For me, it was the sound.” He says, and she furrows her brow. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting him to say, not really, but it certainly hadn’t been that. He smiles softly when he looks up at her for a moment, “Of the knife,” he clarifies, “Every time I heard a knife against the air I just…froze,” he sighs as he’s visited by the memory, a spectre of his past sitting on his shoulder, “I couldn’t cook or prepare food for a long time. I lived off of frozen meals and takeout.”

She presses her lips together, love for him bubbling in her chest, “How did you…get past it?”

He blows out a slow breath and tucks the edge of the bandage in under itself, testing it was loose enough not to hurt but secure enough to stay in place, “One day I did it without thinking,” he says, closing the first aid kit and looking up at her, “I went to the knife block and pulled one out of it and made Jack dinner. I didn’t even realise what I’d done until after he was in bed.”

She nods and stands at the same time he does, reaching out for him with her uninjured hand to link her fingers through his, “Thank you for telling me that.”

“Of course,” he says, using his free hand to cup her chin to make her look up at him, “It will get better, Em. This doesn’t undo anything or make you weak.”

She presses her lips together and chases his hand as he cups her cheek, stamping a kiss against his palm before she smiles at him, “Are you sure you still want to go on a date with me after seeing all of that?”

He leans forward and kisses her, the action lost to a smile before he pulls back, “Nothing could make me change my mind,” he says, looking down at her injured hand, “Want to reschedule?”

She shakes her head, “No, not at all,” she scrunches her nose up, “You may have to cut my steak up for me though.”

He chuckles, “I’ll happily do that for you in 50 years too when you have dentures and can’t chew anymore.”

She scoffs, narrowing her eyes as she shakes her head at him, “I’ll have you know I take excellent care of my teeth.”

#hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss fan fic #aaron x emily #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss

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loveroftoomanyfandoms · 1 year ago

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Cooking Up Love, Chapter 11

Pairing: Chef!Matt Murdock x F!Journalist!Reader

Rating: T

Story Summary: Here

Warnings/Tags: Hallmark levels of fluffy, cheesy goodness (and speed that their relationship develops, lol), no use of Y/N, Matt is not a vigilante, idiots in love, Kelsie is her own warning 😈

Word Count: ~1k

A/N: Super short but super important chapter here! This is setting up our Mega Angst for the story, which will be coming next! 👀

As always, thanks to @theradioactivespidergwen for the stellar divider! 🥰

Tag List: @yarrystyleeza @hailey-murdock @mattkinsella @bellaxgiornata @danzer8705 @chezagnes @shouldbestudying41 @thepunisherfrankcastle @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @roseslovedreams

Ugh, why isn't this coffee kicking in, you thought to yourself while you sat at your desk attempting to proofread several articles for the Thursday digital edition of the paper later that morning. I've read this same sentence no less than 5 times.

You shook your head, trying to clear it. The unusual quiet in the normally bustling office definitely wasn't helping your sleepiness. Maybe some stronger coffee will help.

You stood up and walked towards the break room. Skyler had brought a bag of espresso roast coffee in the previous week and you were pretty sure there was some still left.

You paused as you spotted Ellison at the Keurig. "Copier's on the fritz again," you said, walking over towards the cabinet that held the coffee mugs. "Thought you should know."

Ellison nodded as he waited for his coffee to finish. "Hopefully there'll be enough money in the budget to replace it next year. Damn thing's probably older than I am."

He looked over at you and squinted. "No offense, but you look like shit."

You huffed out a laugh. "Gee thanks, Mitch. You sure know how to make a girl feel special."

"Rough night?"

You shook your head. "Just tired. I only slept about an hour last night."

Ellison studied you for a moment. "Look, why don't you take the rest of the day off? Go home and get some rest."

You opened your mouth to protest, then thought better of it. You were still exhausted and a nap honestly sounded wonderful at the moment. "Are you sure?" you asked instead. "I was just going to get some more coffee and try to power through the rest of the day."

Ellison nodded. "Absolutely. It's been a slow news day, and besides, you've been working your ass off lately and deserve a break."

You smiled. "Okay. Thanks, I appreciate it."

Ellison shrugged. "Eh, don't get all sappy on me. I just don't want you burning out on me, otherwise who else would tell me if my editorial column sucks or not?"

You grinned. "Oh I'm sure people would be lining up for that privilege."

Ellison chuckled. "Seriously, go get some rest."

You nodded. "I will. Thanks, Mitch. Really. I'll see you tomorrow."

You walked back out to your desk and gathered your things, then stopped by Skyler's desk. "Ellison gave me the rest of the day off, so I'm heading home. I'll see you tomorrow, 'kay?"

Skyler nodded. "Okay. Get some rest."

As you headed down to the first floor and out the door, you considered stopping by Daredevil on your way home so you could apologize to Matt in person.

You headed towards your apartment building, sighing happily when you finally walked in the door.

You shook your head. You were so tired that you honestly weren't even sure if you could come up with a coherent apology. I'll talk to him after my article is turned in.

You peeked in your pantry and refrigerator, wrinkling your nose at the paltry options you had for dinner that evening. Instead of a choice between boxed pasta, instant ramen, or leftover Chinese takeout you wished you had Matt's spaghetti carbonara, pesto-parmesan linguine, and tiramisu. Maybe I could order something for delivery later, try something else on the menu.

You headed into your bedroom, changing into something more comfortable before climbing into bed.

Your mind drifted to your article. You really didn't want to have to replay the last few minutes of the blind tasting yet again, but you needed to add a bit about it at the end so you could give it a quick read-through then send it to Ellison.

You sighed. You were a professional, dammit, and no matter your feelings, you were going to write a damn good article about Matt… Even if you never spoke to him again after it was all over.

I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night… No, take responsibility for your actions, Matthew.

I'm sorry for trying to kiss you last night… Actually, no, I'm really not.

I apologize for my behavior last night. I must have misread the situation and… Ugh.

Matt sighed as he rode the elevator up to the Bulletin offices, wishing he would have had time to make a fresh tiramisu for you.

He stepped off the elevator, unable to detect your now-familiar heartbeat among those of the rest of the Bulletin staff.

"Can I help you?" said a woman's voice to his left.

"Uh, yeah." Matt turned towards her and asked to speak to you.

"She's not here."

Matt sighed. Damn it. He probably wouldn't have time to come back later and based on what Foggy had said about you looking miserable he wasn't sure if you would be willing to come by the restaurant either. "Do you know when she'll be back?"

"Actually ," the woman continued, "she's out on assignment for the rest of the day. You know those investigative types, always looking for their next big scoop."

Matt furrowed his brow. That had been the exact opposite of the type of stories you had told him you were interested in writing. "I thought she was in Features."

"Oh, yeah, she is, but she really wants to be an investigative journalist, you know, digging up the dirt on people, finding out their deepest, darkest secrets and publishing them for the world to see." The woman paused. "Nothing nor no one is going to stand in the way of her and a good exposé… even if she has to make one up."

She made a dismissive sound. "Anyway, would you like to leave a message for her? I'll make sure that she gets it."

Matt shook his head. "Oh, uh, no, that's okay. I'll… catch up with her another time. Thank you."

"Sure thing. Have a nice day!"

Matt walked back to the elevator then headed down to the first floor. He had thought that he was getting to know you, but after that surprise revelation from your coworker he wasn't so sure.

He shook his head. Could you have been lying to him this whole time?

#lotmf writes #Cooking Up Love Masterlist #Chef! Matt Murdock x Reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x you

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thedeerman · 7 months ago

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RadioApple Fic:

Do You Want To Know?

Ch3: Wonder

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

The evening comes and goes without any real events. Cherri was in charge of dinner and ordered some Chinese food. Honestly, Lucifer loved fried rice and mei fun so it was a win as far as he was concerned. No one else seemed to have complained either, and everyone eventually went their separate ways for the evening. The next morning however, one of the first things Lucifer thinks of is the letter exchange. Before he even gets out of bed, he wonders who wrote the letter he’s going to receive, and… His eyes snap to the envelope on his desk. Alastor… Why did it have to be Alastor? He hated even having to think about the guy. Thinking of Alastor led to thinking about Alastor’s relationship with Charlie. And that always led him down a dangerous path of frustration and self hatred. Not something he felt like unpacking yet again, not first thing in the morning.

Lucifer had stopped wearing his full coat and hat around the hotel recently, wanting to take on a more ‘casual’ appearance. It was for both himself and the new guests, and he’d started to like being able to walk into a room without all eyes leading to him. He could never lurk in the shadows the way Alastor does but- Lucifer blinked. Why is he still thinking about Alastor? Is it just that he’s the only one in the hotel that Lucifer truly dislikes, or is it because his interactions with him are some of the only genuinely interesting things that happen to him here? Most days, Lucifer can go hours without paying much attention to anything or anyone around him. He’d spent so much time alone, so many years without other souls to interact with on such a regular basis. As a result now, he tends to get lost in his own thoughts. Mind always drifting from one thought to another, to another, and then another… And before he knew it, he’d be so far from the original conversation happening around him that he could hardly get back. This is part of the problem with group therapy. There are very few, very few voices that would catch his attention every single time. That he could truly focus on, even if just for a moment. Charlie was one, of course. Her voice could bring him back from the farthest depths of his wandering mind with ease. The only other soul that’s been able to get his attention like that in recent memory was… Yep, Alastor.

Lucifer shook his head, willing his distractible mind to wander no further. Downstairs, coffee, morning meeting. Simple. He desperately needed a caffeine boost. He stuffed the envelope with the letter for Alastor into his pocket and started down the long hallway towards the center of the hotel.

Alastor was the first up and around this morning. Unlike the previous day, he was up bright and early and making a pot of coffee before anyone else was awake. He downed a cup, washed and replaced the mug, and decided to spend a bit of time wandering the less traveled halls. These were halls he rarely used, and some that he hadn’t even seen yet. He wasn’t part of the construction, of course. He had still been recovering after his fight with Adam. Adam… Alastor suddenly steadies himself against the wall as he mentally relives the moment that he was struck down by the first man. The images flashed again and again in his mind and he was completely incapable of stopping it. The shadow on the wall frowned at Alastor’s state and attempted to drag the demon into the shadows, to escape from the hallway, back to the safety of his own room. A sound coming from the end of the hall, however, caught Alastor’s attention, pulling his mind from the onslaught of brutal flashbacks and back into the present. The shadows released their grip as Alastor quickly recovered, his typical smile falling into place as he brushed wrinkles from his coat. By the time Lucifer turned the corner into the same hallway, Alastor was already resuming his walk like nothing had happened.

Lucifer was on his way down to the meeting room from his tower when he felt something odd. He stopped for a moment, trying to place the strange aura that suddenly caught his attention. It felt.. Uncomfortable. With a touch of panic. Lucifer had a sixth sense for this, having been an archangel and all. But his wandering mind usually didn't pick up on much unless it was something pretty intense. There were plenty of new, heavily traumatized sinners starting to stay at the hotel, so this wasn’t an entirely uncommon occurrence. But something about this one seemed a bit more familiar.

He decided it probably wasn’t anything to worry about and kept on down the hallway. The feeling remained for several moments, and distracted Lucifer enough that he tripped right over his own two feet. He landed clumsily on the floor, his wings coming out just a moment too late to catch him. Nice, he thinks. Taking the whole ‘fallen’ angel thing a bit too literally… Lucifer picks himself up, tucks away his wings and dusts off his shirt, continuing down the long, empty hall. Except when he makes a turn around the corner that would bring him to the main staircase, it isn’t empty anymore. Lucifer tries not to stumble over himself in surprise at seeing Alastor on this side of the hotel… What’s he even doing over this way..? He doesn’t bother to ask. The angel takes a moment to wonder if they’ve had a single non confrontational interaction…ever. He doesn’t like the radio demon. The radio demon doesn’t like him. But this was his daughter’s hotel and she could really use some peace of mind. So he makes the decision right then and there not to start anything, not to let Alastor start anything. Just… Walk past him. Just walk past him.

And he’s on his way to doing just that when he notices something… A shadow. He’d seen Alastor’s weird, semi autonomous shadow…thing.. But it always seemed to be reflecting whatever the demon himself seemed to be doing. Now, it seems.. Upset? Frazzled? Unhappy? Lucifer’s pace slowed just a tad, his mind suddenly wondering what could cause such an odd being to be upset. What does a shadow stress over? Lights? At that moment, he glanced up to the demon as he passed by. His smile was the same big wide creepy thing that it always was, but his eyes… They were wide with what Lucifer could only guess was panic, despite nothing out of the ordinary happening around them. He looked like a deer in headlights. Ha, I’m so funny, the angel thinks to himself. But what the radio demon was worrying about wasn’t his problem. He kept walking, not letting his mind be turned into another Alastor induced mess. Downstairs. Coffee. Morning meeting. At the end of the hallway he realized he had done it, he walked past Alastor! What a… ridiculous thing to celebrate. Oh well, low expectations lead to less disappointment, after all! The king whistled a happy little tune as he made his way downstairs and to the kitchen, where a fresh pot of coffee was thankfully ready.

The morning meeting was brief, mostly just going over everyone's tasks for the day. On the way in, Charlie took each resident’s envelope and marked the appropriate names on them. At the end of the meeting, Vaggie handed them out, along with a new envelope and piece of paper. Lucifer spent the entire meeting focusing on not looking at Alastor. He didn’t want the demon to know that he was the one assigned to write to him, and he didn’t want him to know that he spent a considerable amount of time this morning thinking about his odd shadow creature and how it worked. Damn, why do my thoughts always end up leading to this asshole? Lucifer frowned to himself, lost in his own mind again on his way back to his room. He decided he wasn't feeling up to any more chance encounters and decided to just teleport himself.

Back in the comfort of his own room, Lucifer decides to open his letter. He’s actually nervous about what might be in it for some reason. I just want these people to like me, he thinks nervously. He tears the envelope with his name open and drops it to the floor. The paper inside is neatly folded into a perfect square. Lucifer opens the letter and reads the contents.

“Name two things about your person that you admire and why.”

One thing I admire about this person is his raw power. It has a lot of potential. Another thing I admire is his determined unwillingness to back down from a challenge.

Lucifer reads the lines over and over again, wondering if the sender was being truthful. If whoever got his name was too afraid to be honest with the king of hell and decided to go with something simple and believable. Or… it was also a possibility that whoever got his name genuinely believed that these were both true and admirable qualities. The fallen angel smiled. A genuine, happy smile. Someone… this person! This person admires my stubborn refusal to back down from a challenge? Lucifer laughed. It was the very thing that got him kicked out of heaven. His stubbornness. His pride. His sins. And yet, whoever wrote this note, they saw it as an admirable trait. He laughed again, the thought of his biggest flaws being any sort of positive? Ha! No. He appreciated the sentiment, but no.

He gently folded the paper back into the square shape it was before and set it on his desk. Next to it, he placed down the paper with the new writing prompt. The one he has to write to Alastor. He once again remembered his frustration at having to think about him at all, but his thoughts quickly turned to this morning, before everyone else was awake. When something felt off in the hallway and the shadow looked upset and the sinner’s eyes looked like a wild animal staring death in the face and why why why can’t he just stop wondering about it?

Lucifer leans back in his chair and wonders for the millionth time why his mind can’t settle down. No sense letting this take all day… He picks up his pen and looks at the paper Charlie gave him. The prompt at the top read

“Name one thing that you’re curious about in regards to your person.”

Well that one isn’t too hard… Lucifer began thinking of all the different things that he would ask if anyone would give him the damn answers. Why are you here? What do you intend to do? What are your intentions with Charlie? How do you get into every thought in my mind every waking moment? Why - Damn it. If he were to put anything like that in the letter it would be obvious who’s writing. And it’s not like he’s going to be sending back a response anyway so… Lucifer takes a moment to think. And then he writes.

Alastor,

One thing I’m curious about is your shadow. Is it a part of you? Its own being? Does it make its own choices?

Lucifer hesitates as his thoughts seem to just bleed right out through the ink in his pen but decides there’s no harm in wondering. So he includes,

Does it have a name?

The king looked over his letter and decided that would do just fine. This was an easy one, everyone wonders about Alastor. CONSTANTLY. The guy is some sort of weird enigma that Lucifer didn’t really have the patience to care about. And it’s not like his shadow isn’t out for display all day anyway, anyone would wonder what’s up with it. He folds the letter up and puts it in the new envelope, ready for tomorrow’s meeting.

Alastor is not in a good mood. He still smiles, makes little quips here and there, slinks around the shadows and appears where he isn’t always expected. Watching. Listening. All of his usual activities. But after his sudden panic at remembering- No. There’s no reason to get all worked up again… The radio demon was many things, but panicked? Fearful? Never. Well… Almost never. This wasn’t his first or only brush with death, and it likely wouldn’t be his last. So just dropping it is the most logical thing to do. Just not even bothering with letting the thoughts take root. He went about his typical duties until late in the afternoon, when he retired to his room in his radio tower for some time alone.

Alastor sat down, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He should’ve stopped at the bar on the way up. Oh well. It was then that he remembered Charlie’s little letters game from earlier, which makes him think of Lucifer, which makes him think about seeing Lucifer in the hall that morning after barely pulling himself together from- NO. He stops his thoughts in their tracks and pulls the envelope and paper from his coat pocket.

The demon used his razor sharp claw like a letter opener, neatly slicing the envelope open. He burned the envelope in his hand and watched the small green flame slowly eat the paper. He hummed to himself, a little fire never failed to raise his smile just a tad. Once the envelope was nothing but ash, he opened the clumsily folded paper. Alastor wondered for a moment who it was that had written him the letter, which said:

“Name two things about your person that you admire and why.”

Alastor,

One thing I admire about you is your willingness to use your power to protect this place, even if you don’t completely believe in it. Even facing a danger that could have killed you. Another thing that I admire is your ability to get people to listen to you. No matter where you are, or who you’re speaking to, people always tend to listen.

Alastor’s eyes narrowed at the words written on the page in front of him. This very well could have been written by Charlotte, the demon thinks to himself. It wasn’t at all like Niffty’s formatting, and this certainly wouldn’t have come from the mind of Husker. Alastor didn’t know enough about Angel or Cherri to make a solid determination there, but he wondered if this could have come from Vaggie? He mindlessly played a little jazz tune while pondering, but ultimately decided that the game was a bit more fun when the writer was anonymous. Alastor then took the letter, flattened the creases as best he could, and put it on his desk in the tower. Turning to the other piece of paper, he reads the next prompt.

“Name one thing that you’re curious about in regards to your person.”

Alastor wasn’t sure what to make of this one. There were many things he wondered about the king of hell. Why does he squander his power? Why has he hidden away for so many years? Why did his ex wife leave him? What’s he been doing since then? Who- Wait. The radio demon blinks as he wonders why he would ever produce such a train of thought. He had no need to wonder about those topics, nor had he ever wondered about them before. But now that he has wondered about them… No. It has to be something that anyone would be curious about. Alastor knew that if he again mentioned the king’s power or use of it, he’s likely to be suspected. And then the rest of the week wouldn’t go nearly as well. He wondered, what would the other residents want to know about him? Something… mundane.

Favorite color? Food preferences? Hobbies? Only radio static and the light sound of jazz could be heard in the tower as Alastor sat unable to make such a simple decision as a question on paper. He closed his eyes for a moment, but immediately felt the panic start as his mind played him the scene again. The demon quickly stood from his chair, eyes wide and ears flat against his head. His shadow frowned at him, earning itself a glare and low growl from its master. I will not be pitied by a shadow, he thinks to himself. Perhaps a bit more busywork was what he needed to get his mind working properly again. He opened his portal and stepped into the hotel lobby.

Lucifer was a little bit busier today, his day off from chores having come and gone. Niffty actually did most of the cleaning herself, but with more guests arriving every few days, it was only right that the rest of them lent a hand. Today, Lucifer’s job was cleaning up the messes that left things in need of fixing. Couches, chairs, tables, walls, floors, doors, lamps, whatever got damaged, Lucifer could use his magic to quickly repair. That was his job for the day, and he didn’t mind it. Charlie had given him a clipboard noting everything that needed to be fixed and where in the hotel it was. For now, some damage to a wall in the lobby. Going around fixing things was yet another task that would let Lucifer’s mind wander into dangerous territory if he wasn’t careful. The best way to combat that was to be around his daughter, who could keep his attention better than anyone. But as she was running a hotel and had things to do, his next best option was-

And at that moment, before Lucifer could even chastise himself for his thoughts, Alastor appeared through a portal only a few feet away. Lucifer’s eyes went wide for just a moment before he quickly looked away, back to the wall he was supposed to be repairing. But the energy coming from the demon behind him felt… uncomfortable. Lucifer shook his head a bit, begging the thoughts to take a hike and leave him be. But alas, this was Hell. And nothing ever went the way you wanted it to here.

“Salutations, your majesty!”

Lucifer visibly jumped at the sudden intrusion by the very demon he had just been begging himself not to think about. He closed his eyes for just a second before plastering on his 'You aren’t going to get under my skin today, no thank you' face and turning around to face Alastor.

“Uhhh, hi! Yeah, just fixing up this wall here.” He explained, as if he needed to. Jeez, just treat him like your supervisor, why not? He thought to himself.

“I see. Not to offend, sire, but it does appear that this wall is still broken. Was this too difficult of a task for you today?” Alastor spoke through a cruel smile. “I’m sure I could speak with Charlie about getting you a less strenuous task if need be?”

Lucifer refused to drop his smile, mirroring the face of the stupidly tall demon in front of him. “Oh that won’t be necessary, unlike some of the other staff, I can actually just get this done,” he paused with a smirk, waved his hand, and the wall was brand new, “with a flick of my wrist.” He smiled smugly but Alastor was no longer looking at him. He stepped forward to run a hand over the wall, brushing past Lucifer as he did.

God, why’d he have to step so close? He’s so… But his thoughts were interrupted by that radio filtered voice. “Hmm. I do wish that I had been present for the remodeling. But I suppose I can always make my own adjustments later…” At that, he slowly turned his head to face Lucifer, with a wicked looking smile on his face.

Now, listen. Lucifer was not afraid of the radio demon. Not in the slightest. The sinner couldn’t hurt him even if he tried. So why does he always freeze when they make direct eye contact? Only this time, he doesn’t just freeze. He blinked once, then twice, then turned around on his heel and speed walked away. He might not have a mirror handy, but he was 100% sure that he was blushing. Like, a weird amount. His face was flushed as he escaped the room, pausing in a hallway to catch his breath. What the fuck is up with me today?

Lucifer checked the time on the phone he rarely used. Well… it’s 5 o’clock somewhere… he reasoned. Not like he needed to, it was Hell. The bartender worked from bright and early to late and dark. After taking a moment to compose himself, he walked over to the bar and took a seat all the way at the end. The bartender, Husk, the weird cat demon guy, glanced over at him briefly before asking “What’ll it be, your highness?” in a deep, gravely tone. Lucifer didn’t always like to be referred to by those titles, not when he was trying to blend in decently well around the new sinners. But when Husk spoke to him, the title never felt forced, feeling like a nickname that the cat had given him.

Before Lucifer could speak up, Husk says “Yeah, I’ve seen that one. Gimme a minute.” The devil wondered for a moment what that could have meant until a glass was set in front of him. It was the same drink he had ordered some nights ago, when he sat talking with the spider demon, Angel, about his frustrations with Alastor.

Ugh, once again, He thinks to himself as he takes a sip of the drink, I’m back to thinking about him. Lucifer takes a moment to appreciate that the demon in front of him had remembered one of his drink orders before his mind catches up to the last thing he’d said.

“Wait, I didn’t say anything. What do you mean?” he asks. The bartender replies, “That look. I’ve seen that look on your face. You ain't exactly hard to read, highness.” At that he pauses mid sip, again thinking of the last time he ordered this drink. His eyes got wider. He turned to look directly at the demon in front of him. Husk’s golden eyes and half smile didn’t reveal much, so he decided to see where this would take him.

“I’m still not entirely sure what you mean by that…” he lied. “I’m surprised you remembered what I like though.” Husk let out a small laugh as he turned around to put half empty liquor bottles back on the shelves behind the bar. “Just a skill you pick up after a while,” he responded. “When you spend as much time as I do listening to the same people bitch and moan every day,” he paused for a moment, “Well, I suppose you just pick up on some things.” He glanced back at the king, who immediately felt his face getting warm again. Whether from the liquor or the gaze from the oddly wise seeming demon in front of him, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was both of those things that prompted him to continue speaking for a little while, just small talk back and forth.

After a few minutes of chatting, allowing himself to voice some of his lesser sorrows, he decided he’d spent enough time wallowing. “Well… Thanks. For the drink I mean. But no more complaining to the bartender for me today!” He chuckled as he quickly downed the alcohol left in the glass like it was the most refreshing thing he had ever tasted. Having calmed his nerves a little, he went back to Charlie’s checklist and continued his task for the day.

Alastor very much liked being someone that knew things. His favorite hobby, even more so than his radio broadcasts, was gathering intel. Just waiting, just watching, just listening. Noting down every interaction he witnessed in a folder in his mind, ready to sort through later if the need comes. Hell was a game of 5D chess, and knowing your opponent’s next move was vital.

This leads to a lot of free time spent lingering in the shadows where no one is aware of his presence. And one of the best places to do this was near the bar.

The radio demon would sometimes sit at the bar for a drink, but oftentimes would just watch from afar. He couldn’t get too terribly close, or Husker would certainly sniff out his presence. But there were multiple places he could lurk where he could hear anything said to the bartender in question. So when the demon traveled through the shadows by the bar on his way out of the lobby, he noticed the king sitting on the far end. It was barely 4 in the afternoon. This should be good… he thought to himself.

But really, he didn’t gain much. Husker was practically speaking in code as far as Alastor was concerned. None of it seemed important enough to pay much attention to, until the king said something unexpected.

“I don't know, maybe I’m just not trying hard enough. But I suppose I do hole myself away in my room a lot… Maybe too much. I don’t know. I come to every morning meeting though!” He reasoned with himself as the bartender continued organizing his liquor shelves. “And I’m doing my best with this letter thing but…” Husk put the bottle he was holding down with a sigh and turned to face the king. “Don’t even talk about it. Your damn mouth is gonna get us both sent to group therapy if you start spilling now.” Lucifer couldn’t argue, he was right. Where his brain started going, his mouth might follow. He nodded, agreeing. “Yeah that’s true.” The conversation went back to nothing important, as far as Alastor was concerned.

The king eventually finished his drink and thanked Husker before pulling his clipboard from a small portal and hopping off of the barstool. As Alastor watched him go, completely unaware he was being watched at all, he had a thought. Sinking into his shadow, he made his way back to his radio tower. When he reappeared in front of his desk, his smile became less forced. He sat down and lifted his pen. On the paper that Charlie had given him earlier, he began to write.

One thing I am curious about is your absence throughout the day. Aside from scheduled meetings and chores, you almost always seem to be missing.

The demon’s smile grew as he wrote. Now knowing that the devil was self-conscious about his lack of presence throughout the day, he could use this. It was a simple enough observation that anyone could see, and Lucifer didn’t know he was listening in on the conversation with Husker. Incompetent. That’s how this is going to make him feel. And that was something Alastor had used freely in the past. The king’s struggle with his own incompetence. Chuckling to himself, he folded the paper neatly and placed it into tomorrow’s envelope. Once he was done, the radio demon decided to partake in his second favorite pastime, broadcasting his radio show.

Chapter four below!

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel alastor #fanfic #mine #do you want to know

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karatekels · 1 year ago

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Disorderly Conduct - Chapter 1

I am so, *so* excited to be writing for another TIG character! While The Kidnapping/Black Friday has... a lot of issues (mostly not enough TIG and his backstory, imho), I love Cash so much!

This will not be anywhere near as dark as "Unjust Reward"; this is more of a thriller/drama/(romance?) that I have 6 posts planned for! Chapters will also likely be shorter than what I usually post (probably between 2k-4k).

TW: (for the fic, nothing in this chapter) Police corruption, police violence, unlawful seizure and detention (holding someone against their will), violence, bondage, possible dubious consent

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Chapter 1 - Suspect:

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“–We’ve got to be hypervigilant, follow any hint of a lead; if those drugs hit the street, I don’t even want to think about what it’ll mean for violent crime in the area. So, keep pounding the pavement, everyone, and let’s make this bust before we miss our chance. Dismissed.”

You join the throng of other officers leaving the briefing room after your morning meeting, stopping in the kitchen to top up your coffee before returning to your desk. Finding a spot for your mug amongst the mountains of case files, you take a seat, looking at the piles of unsolved cases with a sigh.

You knew you were a good cop; a lot of your fellow officers were great cops, but there were only so many of you, and only so many hours in the day. The crime rate in the city was at an all-time high, and you were all constantly working overtime, even though you weren’t always paid for it.

You’ve been an officer here for a couple of years now. Initially underestimated as a smaller, female officer, you had slowly but surely made a name for yourself in the precinct as a scrappy, determined woman who always got her perp. You were fueled by a strong sense of justice, something you had had for your entire life, and while it had earned you the reputation of being uptight or a killjoy in your early life, it had served you well in your career.

You bring your computer out of sleep mode, sweeping your hair into a messy ponytail that didn’t quite keep the hair out of your eyes as you start to review the report you had been typing up when you first got in this morning. It was a straightforward B&E, it wouldn’t take you long to finish.

A shadow falls over your desk as a tall, broad-chested officer walks past you without a glance or a word of acknowledgement. Your eyes follow the man as he moves to his desk, all the way on the other side of the precinct, and you sigh.

Cash…

You had been partners for nearly a year upon your addition to the police department. More than that, you had been friends… or so you’d thought. You’d been a great team, and had a higher rate of solved cases than any other pair of officers in the precinct. You had so many memories associated with him: “take-out stake-outs” where you’d gorged yourself on Chinese food while waiting for a perp to appear, working a case late-night at your desks and spit-balling ideas until you’d cracked it, celebratory beers at the local watering hole that all the cops frequented when you solved a case.

But that was before his suspension.

You still didn’t know what he had done to warrant the suspension; no one would tell you. It had all happened so suddenly; you had been working a case, splitting up to follow separate leads, and he had gone radio silent. Upon your return to the precinct hours later, Cash’s desk across from yours had been cleared out, and the Chief had called you into his office telling you that you would be getting a new partner, that Cash had been suspended.

The Chief had adamantly refused to tell you what had happened, only that you were being reassigned and that Cash would be back in a few weeks, pending approval by the review board.

When he had returned, it was like he was a completely different person. Before, he had been energetic, eager to talk, laugh, get the job done. Now he was quiet, and angry, and didn’t seem to want anything to do with anyone, especially you. It was like he had completely shut you out of his life overnight without so much as a goodbye, let alone an explanation.

In the beginning, you had been persistent, trying to get him to crack a smile or laugh with you at first. But nothing worked. He would walk away whenever anyone approached him, keeping his head down; the only person you’d seen him speak to other than the Chief (and even that was only when necessary) was his new partner, Glen, and they didn’t seem to work much together, often working separate cases in silence.

Your eyes are still on Cash as he takes his seat at his desk; you can’t help it, you’re worried about him. You missed him, as both a partner and a friend.

His pale blue eyes lock with yours, and he stares at you intensely for a moment before giving you a brief glare, then pointedly looking away.

You’ve been feeling uneasy for awhile now. Cash had shared your sense of justice when you had been working together; it was one of the things that you’d had in common. The few case reports of his you’d managed to get your hands on since his suspension had mentioned reckless, unpredictable behaviour, and it had you worried.

For awhile now, you’ve been trying to figure him out, and you think you may have an idea of what he’s up to. You wouldn’t put it past him to do something dangerous, a ‘Hail Mary’ where he would put himself in harm’s way to save the day, and get back into the department’s good graces. Because he often worked alone, Glen off doing his own work, no one would be there to check him, keep him from doing something stupid.

You had been debating going to the Chief with your concerns about Cash over the past couple of months. You had no evidence to support your claims, just that gut instinct that had served you well on the force numerous times before. Unfortunately for you, Chief Levinson was the definition of a by-the-book, no-nonsense police officer; he didn’t operate the precinct based off of hunches.

Still, you had done great work since joining the department, and maybe your spotless record would give him reason to take you seriously, despite your lack of evidence. You owed it to Cash – at least, the memory of the Cash that he used to be – to give it a shot. You would hate yourself if you didn’t at least try to look after him, especially if he wound up doing something stupid.

You grab a random casefile off of your desk, using it as a pretense to go and speak to the Chief. Locking your computer, you get up, walking over to the Chief’s office and knocking on the open door.

“Officer L/N. What can I do for you?” Chief Levinson asks, looking up from his desk after a moment of you awkwardly hovering in his doorway.

“Got a second, Chief? I’ve got something I want to run by you,” you ask, clutching the casefile more tightly than necessary, making sure that he can see it.

“Sure thing, come on in.”

Cash’s piercing gaze tracks your movements as you walk into the Chief’s office, closing the door behind you.

---

You take a seat across from the Chief, his ornate wooden desk between you, and try not to appear nervous.

“So, what’s this all about? What case are you working?” he asks, skipping the pleasantries. Chief Levinson had never been a man who liked to waste time being cordial.

“Actually, Sir… this isn’t about a case.”

You don’t miss the way that his jaw ticks. He had quite a short fuse when he was stressed, and the quarterly report he’d recently submitted to the Commissioner had been less than satisfactory. It wasn’t as though the department wasn’t solving crimes, but the sheer volume of them as of late had been overwhelming the precinct.

“I certainly hope you’re not here to talk about the weather, L/N. We’ve got more open cases than we know what to do with; I don’t have time for idle chitchat. You certainlydon’t have time for it,” he chides you, and you bite your tongue to keep your face carefully neutral.

“I understand, Sir. This isn’t for a case, but it’s something that I think needs to be brought to your attention.”

“Well, spit it out then, L/N. I haven’t got all day,” he tells you gruffly.

“It’s about Cash, Sir.”

“Officer Ewing? What about him?”

“I’ve been concerned for awhile now that he’s going to do something risky. He lives for this job, Sir, and he’s changed since his suspension. I think he may do something drastic to try to earn the department’s respect back. Your respect, Sir.”

The man leans back in his chair, surveying you quietly for a moment with a contemplative expression.

“I see. And what evidence do you have that makes you suspect this?”

“I worked side-by-side with Cash for months, Sir. I really feel like I know him.”

Or knew him, a cruel voice whispers in your head. You ignore it.

“I asked for evidence, L/N. We don’t deal in speculation in this precinct,” he tells you firmly.

You’re mildly worried you’re going to make yourself bleed from how hard you’re biting your tongue.

“I understand, Sir. I… I don’t have any evidence, just a hunch.”

“I can appreciate your concern, Y/N,” the Chief says kindly, and you stiffen at his use of your first name; it came across to you as patronizing, though you’re fairly sure he’s not trying to be. “I know that it hasn’t been easy for you since Cash’s suspension, and that you don’t like being kept in the dark.”

“It’s not about me, Sir, I –” you start to protest, but he interrupts you.

“But I sincerely doubt that Officer Ewing will do anything that isn’t strictly by-the-book. He knows he’s on thin ice after his suspension, and he won’t want to rock the boat.”

“But Sir–”

“Do not concern yourself with Officer Ewing, L/N. That’s an order. Now, I suggest you get back to work – I’ve seen the amount of open casefiles on your desk.”

“Yes, Sir,” you say through gritted teeth. “Thank you for your time.”

You leave his office without another word, refusing to look across the room to Cash.

You spend the rest of the day angrily typing up reports.

---

The evening finds you sitting alone at Hank’s, the local cop bar, nursing a beer. You’re still grumpy about how your chat with the Chief went, staring into space as you try to figure out what more you can do to get him to take you seriously.

“What’s got you all surly and seething?” comes a voice from behind you. Turning your head slightly, you see Cash standing next to you, still towering over you even from your tall perch on the bar stool. He’s wearing his dark leather jacket on top of his uniform, and lightly tinted sunglasses, despite being indoors at night. What a tool, you think to yourself.

“Are you speaking to me, Officer Cash?” you ask with mock surprise, your eyes wide as you put a hand on your chest. The sort-of nickname slips from your lips easily; he’d always hated his last name, so you’d taken to calling him Officer Cash when you’d first started working together. “To what do I owe the honour?”

It’s been months since he’s bothered to say a word to you, months since you stopped trying to reach out. To your surprise, he takes the seat next to you, and you silently raise a questioning eyebrow up at him. He says nothing, and you gnash your teeth.

“That seat’s taken,” you snap at him, irritated.

“By who, your imaginary friend? Grow up.” He holds up two fingers to the barkeep, who slides him over two beers. Cash wordlessly pushes one over to you as you finish your first, and pushes his sunglasses to the top of his head.

“What do you want, Cash?” you ask him tiredly, pointedly ignoring the proffered beverage.

“Why do you assume I want something?” he asks, cocking his head and staring at you, eyes unblinking. You look away first, lowering your gaze to the chain he wore around his neck.

“I don’t know, Cash. Maybe because you haven’t bothered to speak to me in months,” you growl at him angrily, still refusing to meet his eyes; you don’t want him to see how much his absence has affected you.

“Crime’s been on the rise. We’ve both been busy,” he replies, clearly avoiding the actual subject.

“Don’t give me that crap. You’ve been avoiding me ever since you got back from your suspension.” You scowl, snatching the beer he’d passed to you off of the counter and taking a swig.

“We’d been reassigned partners by the time I came back,” is all he says, and you roll your eyes at the weak excuse.

“We were also friends, Cash!” you hiss, trying to keep your voice down, but you’re getting angry. You’ve been wanting an explanation for ages now, but the opportunity to hear one finally presenting itself to you while in the presence of alcohol wasn’t ideal; you tended to get mouthy when you drank.

“We were friends,” you repeat softly, a wash of sadness coming over you as you speak the words. “It shouldn’t have mattered that we were reassigned.”

“Yeah well, things change,” he retorts, refusing to elaborate. You glower at him, anger replacing your grief in an instant. Cash had always been able to set you off, even back when you had been working together.

“Clearly. Whatever you did to get suspended must’ve involved you shoving your head up your ass.”

“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand, Y/N,” he warns you, his voice tight.

“Of course I don’t understand! No one will tell me what happened! You won’t tell me what happened. Forgive me for wondering what my so-called partner did to nearly get himself kicked off the force!” you seethe, jaw clenching as you feel your throat constrict, the way it tended to when you were about to cry. And you would not be crying in front of Cash Ewing; not tonight, not ever.

But damn, him abandoning you with no explanation had hurt you even more than you’d thought it had.

“You know that what goes on in disciplinary hearings has to remain confidential.”

“Yeah, yeah. It still doesn’t explain why you haven’t talked to me since coming back. You’re always disappearing, going off by yourself, and I’ll be honest with you, Cash: I think it’s sketchy as hell.”

You emphasize the last sentence, wanting to let him know that you were suspicious about what he was doing and that you had been keeping an eye on his movements, and he stiffens. The look he gives you is honestly terrifying – a wide, piercing stare, like he was trying to read your mind – but you refuse to look away first, setting your jaw. After a long moment, he lowers his gaze, taking a swig of his beer.

“Mind your own damn business,” he snaps at you, and that sets you off.

“I was, up until you decided to deign me with your presence. Why’d you even bother coming over here?”

He takes a long drink, looking past you with a thousand-yard stare.

“Wanted to ask if you needed help with that case you went to the Chief about,” he says knowingly, and something about the intense way he’s looking at you sends a shiver down your spine. What had he heard?

“…But forget it. Forget all of it, Y/N,” he suggests firmly, his mouth twisting into a cross between a grimace and a smile. He quickly polishes off his drink, sliding the bottle over to the barkeep and leaving without a word. You stare after him as he walks out the door, feeling frustrated.

That last thing he said had sounded awfully like a warning to you…

He was up to something.

You’re going to find out what.

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Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Not really a fun fact, but Cash’s character doesn’t have an official last name (neither does Glen’s, which is CRAZY to me since cops are usually called Officer L/N), so I used the last name of the character from TIG’s first acting role, Catlin Ewing.

(Side note: Has anyone watched him in Another World? I’m not really a soap opera person, but I mean, it IS TIG, so let me know if I should check it out!)

#thomas ian griffith #cash #cash x reader #black friday 2007 #the kidnapping 2007 #dark desires october #disorderly conduct #eventual smut

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papacopia-crucified · 2 years ago

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After Dark pt3.

(I just can’t with these cute little bats ❤️)

The weekend was short, time flew as you listened to you favourite songs, cleaning and of course cooking. You loved Italian cuisine and Chinese too. Penelope was still sad about Copia, and you were too. You missed how that cute little bat looked at you, oh you missed him dearly, but it was for the better for him to leave. You hate to admit it, but it’s true. If he wanted to go who were you to stop him. At that moment you realised that didn’t even took a picture of him, just to seal a piece of him into your heart, and of course take a printed one into your rat’s aquarium.

As the day went by it was already Saturday evening. And you knew that you have to work tomorrow night as usual, but only because it was paying well. Like last time, you needed that 100 dollar. As always you did not bought anything to yourself but to Penelope. She needed a new little house, and food of course. You wanted to give her everything she needed.

You rescued her years ago. Let’s just say you were in the right place. Her previous owner just tossed her out from a moving car. It made you furious you even flipped off the car. You ran to her side to check for bruises, but she was okay. You knew that she’ll need you so took her in, since then you see how she looks at you. She’s glad that you took her home that day. And she’s happy ever since.

When you woke up next day you felt more exhausted than usual. You didn’t have a dream about Papa, and it made you disappointed, wanted to know what happened after “you” died. But you’ll never have an answer to that, unfortunately. A light breeze touched your ankle and realised that your window was open.

“Huhh….? I did not open it yesterday. Weird. Well at least we have some fresh air here, don’t we Penelope?” You glanced over her and you saw that she’s peacefully sleeping and it made you smile, closed the window afterwards.

Your thoughts were filled with the strange dream you had, you had crazy dreams before but this was not like them, like it was not a dream but a memory. Memory of the past. You shook your head as you walked into your kitchen and started the coffee maker. You grabbed the milk from the fridge and put sugar into your coffee mug, you poured the hot liquid into the mug and filled it halfway and the other half with milk. You usually don’t drink coffee at home, but there’re occasions you enjoy home brew more. Just like you enjoy homemade pasta, your granny always sends you.

“I don’t wanna go to work today.” You banged your head down on the kitchen table and that’s when you heard a squeaky noise.

“Huhh..?” You shoot your head up

“Oh…. Oh you! Aww… I missed you.” You grabbed the large bat into your hands and hugged him to your chest. Then you brought him to your eye level.

“Don’t you dare leave me like that again Copia. I was so worried about you. Silly bat.” You hugged him to you again and practically ran into your bedroom to bring him to Penelope.

“Look, who decided to come back.” Penelope opened her eyes and when she saw Copia she squeaked happily and Copia flew into the aquarium next to her to cuddle.

“Aww…. Don’t move. I’ll grab my phone.” You wanted to take some pictures of them, just to look at it if you’re sad, even if you’re not home. Practically they will be with you always. That day was rather happy for you. Your favourite bat came back. Time flew by fast and it was already night time.

“Alright guys, turn around. You don’t wanna see me almost naked.” Their head turned and you just sighed and stripped. You were standing there in only just your underwear. As you looked over to Copia, his little eyes were fixated on you. Only you, not even looking away, and it made you flushed. You did not understand, how this little bat made you all worked up.

“You’re lucky that you’re cute Copia, otherwise I’d toss you out of the window.” And he…..winked??!

“W…what?! Did you just winked? I can’t believe I’m attracted to a bat.” He made an angry noise

“Don’t worry Copia. I love you.” His eyes softened and laid back against Penelope, went to sleep after. Strange… You picked out your attire for the night shift and said goodbye to Pen and Copia and closed the door after you left the house. The route was quite peaceful, no macho men whistled at you, for Satan’s sake. As you were halfway you heard flutter of wings and a pair of feet landing on your shoulder. You panicked and looked at your shoulder.

“Ah. Copia. What you’re doing here? You scared me.” He just tilted his little head then bowing it down. “Come on now. I cannot be mad at you, you know? You wanna come with me to a shift? Alright let’s go then.” You said and smooched his little face and went on. As you approached the club, you noticed Michael’s stare at your lil guy, he was the guard of the place.

“Hey there (Y/n). You got a little friend?”

“Yeah. His name’s Copia.” You smiled and he knew immediately that why you choose him that name, he knew about your obsession about Ghost. He was your gay friend btw.

“Boss is already here. He wants to talk to you, and get Marge along with you.”

“He wants to discuss something…. Again??! It’s what the third time this month.

“But I knew something that you don’t…. Your little boy band….”

“Oh shit…. You mean…..?”

“Uhmmm….. they’re gonna make a lil’ concert here.”

“Yesssss…..” you were so excited about it. You could not even imagine how it will turn out. But trust me, Copia’ll know. Cause it’s his doing…..

“Did you hear that Copia??? Papa’s coming..” you squealed in excitement and went into the dressing room, and you bump into Marge.

“Hey girl. What’s on your shoulder?”

“It’s Copia.”

“You named a bat after that Emeritus guy?” She made a side eye, well let’s just say that she doesn’t like you one bit…. Sadly.

“His name is not guy. He’s Papa Emeritus the Fourth. And yes I did name this lil guy after him.”

“I still don’t understand how Michael allowed that here.”

“Well sweetheart, he’s my best friend and Clay’s actually has a pet bat, so… oh yes Mike said that Clay wanted to talk with us.”

“Again?”

“Yeah. So just get up your ass and let’s go. We’ll open in one hour.” You placed down Copia on your dresser and told him to be there, after both of you went up to the boss’ office and knocked on the door.

“Come in.” You opened the door and smiled at Clay

“You wanted to see us?” You sat down in a chair in front of the table he was seated and so did Marge.

“Yes. You probably knew that once in a month, there’s live music here. So, the thing is you two will have a different attire today, after all Ghost will perform here. You two’ll have the attire in your dressing rooms. Let it be a surprise.” He winked.” You can leave now, prepare for the concert.”

“Thank you.” Marge stood up and walked away, you quickly bid goodbye to Clay and followed Marge to the rooms.

“Why is this attire in not good? I don’t understand. It’s just a band…” you just rolled your eyes and when you opened your locker you saw a costume there.

“Are you kidding me?? I will not wear this.” She exclaimed and tossed the nun attire onto the dressing table. You were so excited for it, did not even hesitate to dress up. When you fixed everything on you, looked into the mirror and looked just like a Sister of Sin. And of course there was an upside down cross necklace with the G on it.

“I look absolutely ridiculous.” Marge was a little edgy as usual but it cannot ruin your mood. Finally you’ll see your favourite band live.

“Why I think it’s gorgeous, do you like it too Copia? Huhh…? Copia?” He was nowhere to be seen and it made you a little sad.

“Huhh…. He left you, as everyone else.”

“Fuck you. Shake your butt to the bar and get everything started I’ll join you shortly.”

“You just don’t boss me around.” She left for good, and you were alone, just looking at your reflection.

“I’d make a great Sister of Sin.” You winked at your reflection and joined Marge to prepare everything for the night shift. It was rather easy to me in the costume. And the though that you only wear panties and you’ll see Papa…. It made you wet. As the night went on, people started to crowd into the not so big room. There were some Ghost fans too. You recognised them from afar. It was rather easy to speak with them, they even commented nice things about your costume. They left you huge amount of tips, yes it’s your lucky day. The DJ suddenly stopped the music and had a mic in hand.

“As you know, we hold only one concert here in every month. You lucky bastards has the opportunity to confess your sins here. Ladies and gentleman, welcome Ghost!” As he stopped speaking all of the ghouls started to appear from backstage, you screamed as loud as you could. Cumulus made a hand sign at you and you just waved. You were so excited you feared that you’d collapse down. And that’s when he emerged, Papa, Cardinal Copia, the fourth Emeritus.

“Hello everyone!” Papa shouted into the microphone and looked around, his eyes found yours and you refused to move, like you were made out of stone. “Are you ready?” He shouted and the crowd there went crazy-crazy. Songs followed another song, and you were behind the bar, singing along to them, enjoying the music, especially Papa’s voice. They then started to play the first chords to Cirice.

“Omg Marge please. I’ll be back, I have to pee.” You lied, you did not want till to miss your chance to be Ciriced by Papa.

“Alright, but be fast. There’s a ton of people here.”

“Thanks.” And you ran into the crowd, and I have to you say you did not care that they were mad at you. You felt the pull, to be close to him. Bodies were collided against each other, the heat was unbearable but you managed to get into the first row. He was more majestic up close. He noticed you right after. He just….. stared, like he’s seen a ghost.. (I know it’s bad… srry.) He dropped onto his knees in front of you, and you stretched you hand out like everybody else and he grabbed yours.

Can’t you see that you lost without me

I can feel the thunder that’s breaking

In your heart

I can see through the scars inside you.

That’s when he kissed your hand. Your heart was racing, making you dizzy. It felt like there’s nobody there but you and Papa. The world slowed down at that moment.

I can feel the thunder that’s breaking in your heart.

That’s when he let go of you. Singing again to the people, the crowd, and you knew that you have to go back to the bar, and that’s what you did. Marge was rather angry when she saw you approach her.

“Where the hell were you??”

Calm down. The toilets were all occupied. I had to wait.” You just shrugged your shoulders and began to work again, time flew by as the many songs of Ghost played and it was the end of the show. It was the best day of your life, for sure. You’ll remember it for the rest of your life.

“We have come to and end. We enjoyed playing for you. Until we meet again!” Papa made the crowd cheer, they screamed and waved at them as they slowly went back stage. Mike the DJ went beck behind the deck and played the regular music we always play.

“What a night, huh?” Asked suddenly a man right in front of me.

“Yeah. What can I get started for you?”

“I’ll have a beer, and your phone number.” He said in a flirty tone. And of course you had none of it, he wasn’t even your type. What was even your type? Ahh I know. He’s 5’7, his face painted like a skull of a rat, and he made your panties soak like hell.

“I’ll not give you my number, but you can ask for Marge’s. She’s more of a hook up type.” You smiled at him, secretly wanted him to choke on the beer.

“She’s not like you. You seem…..innocent.” He wiggled his eyebrow and tried to grab your hand.

“Don’t do that again. Or I’ll call security.”

“Listen here you little……” a hand suddenly grabbed onto the bully’s arm.

“I think the lady said no.” Your eyes widened, it was him. That guy looked at him and laughed.

“Get in line Emetus or whatever your name is.” That’s when Papa grabbed his hand tighter stretched it out and pressed him down by his neck right onto the countertop.

“It’s Emeritus, and if you bother her again, I’ll feed you to my ghouls. Now get out of here.” Papa pushed that asshole aside and he just left, without a word.

“T….thank you. Uhm… Papa.” There you are, legs like jelly again, face as red as a beetroot. Fortunately he cannot see due to the lack of light.

“There’s nothing to thank cara mia. He was being rude to you.” He said and sat down where the bully sat.

“Can I get you anything Papa?”

“Sorella please call me Copia.” He smiles, like actually smiles. Here they are, the butterflies in your stomach.

“Alright…. P…. Copia. Thank you again for saving me. How can I repay you?”

“Wear that smile you wore when I grabbed your hand and kissed it. It suits you.” He was now looking at you with such an intense stare you have never seen before. Like he wanna devour you from your head to your toe. You bit your bottom lip and a little growl left his mouth.

“I will.”

“Oh shoot.. I have to go now Sorella. It was nice meeting you again.” He smiled and took you hand again and kissed the top of it. He’s gonna be the death of you. You’d die happy now,

“It was a pleasure Copia. Take care.” You made a bold move and leaned in to his face and kissed his left cheek. Now it was his time to blush.

“You too my Dear. Goodbye!” Papa squeezed your hand and after he disappeared into back stage.

“Looks like you have a fan here.” You did not even realised that Marge saw all of it, of course she had to comment about it.

“Oh shut up and work.” And that’s what you two did. Finally it was the end of the shift, and you cleaned up the bar after went back to the dressing rooms and changed back into the attire you chose at home, then said goodbye to everyone. You kept the necklace, practically it was yours so, why not take it. You heard shouting from the back alley and cause your curious as always wanted to see what was happening there. Darkness was the only thing you see at the other end of the alley you saw two people, punching each other. Then one of them grabbed the other by his head and moved it to the right, then he….. bit his neck. A white eye glowed only in the blackness of night. A minute passed then two, finally the man let go of the other and it’s body crashed down in front of you, that’s when you saw blood. Leaking from the man’s neck, you recognised him, it was that bully from before.

“Shit….shit….shit. Who are you?” You shouted to the other, his mismatched eyes bored into yours, he slowly stepped closer and closer. Your blood ran cold, legs were shaking from fear, but you were brave and waited for him to step into the light.

“He deserved it, Cara Mia.” That voice

“Deserved what, death?”

“Nobody messes with my Amore Mio, like this pathetic fragile human being.” That’s when he stepped into the light. His lips were ruby red from the warm blood and it was dripping down to his chin, down to his neck. His eyes never left yours.

“Copia?”

Whew. I finally finished it. ✅ I hope you like it.

As always feedback is appreciated🤭🙏❤️

Love you all ❤️

#papa emeritus iv x reader #cardinal copia x reader #the band ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus 4 #bat!Popia #dracopia x reader #dracopia #after dark #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoulettes

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medeafive · 1 year ago

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For @wntrsnat - prompt: "How long have you been sleeping with him?" Turned it into a Cop AU.

Chapter 2 on AO3

He should have come earlier. But he didn't want to ask and she didn't ask herself and there was Barney and everything at work and all he's been doing is texting her every few weeks How are you and she always texted back okay. Nothing more. Coulson had to press on him pretty hard before he realized he really should go visit his former colleague, his former partner. After two years.

"How is your new one?" Natasha asks, arms crossed, feet on the table, coffee mug clutched to her chest. She took well to New York. Well, she also took well to Chicago, before everything went to hell.

"Wanda?" Clint shrugs, playing with a pen. "Dunno. She's, like, 20 at best. Talks about her true crime podcasts all day."

Natasha's lips curl into a smile. "Sounds fun."

He snorts. "She did a tarot reading for me last week."

Natasha tilts her head. "What did it say?"

"Just the usual bullshit," he lies. He's not going to tell her he came here because of some stupid cards. "Can mean everything and its opposite, too."

"Mhm." Natasha puts her mug down and pulls her feet off the table, still wincing slightly. "Hold on, I have to read that."

It almost felt like the old days until she winced. Now it's all flooding back in, the pain, the fear, the guilt. She's frowning at some mail or the other, scrolling through quickly, efficient as always. She looks older. "I should have looked after you better," Clint says.

Natasha rubs the scar on her abdomen absent-mindedly. "Nothing you could have done, really."

It feels like there should have been something. He should have been able to prevent his partner from being abducted, from being shot, from bleeding out within an inch of her life. Should have been with her, should have found her sooner, should have - It's too late for all of that. "Fury misses you."

She grins, clicking on something. "Did he say that?"

"No. Of course not."

She nods absent-mindedly. "I miss you, too. All of you."

She could have come back. After the hospital, rehab, therapy - But she didn't want to, understandably. Too many memories. Instead, she chose New York. Not a quiet small town posting, New York. She was always a big city girl. "You can visit sometime."

She rubs her nose, as always when she's scared but doesn't want to show it. "Yeah. Might just do that."

He sighs. "I think she has potential. Wanda. She sees things other people don't see."

"Let me guess," Natasha remarks. "She's also terrible at filling out forms?"

"Horrible."

She smiles, satisfied with her guess. "Sounds like you fit together perfectly."

Not like with Natasha. It was never the same, the work, the late evenings, the horrible lunch choices, coming in in the morning and seeing this other girl at her desk - He swallows. "I finally got a place for Barney. Assisted living."

She looks up. "Really? That's great."

"Yeah, it's in Ohio, but whatever, I guess." He rubs his old wrist injury. "Moved him last week. He seemed happier without me, too."

"I'm sure that's not true, Clint," she chides.

He breathes out. They were never on good terms, him and his brother, and then that idiot had to wrap his car around a tree, couldn't even die in the crash, too, the only living relative - "It's for the best, in any case."

"Yeah," she agrees. "Happy for you."

He breathes in. "You know, I -"

The door opens without warning and in walks the guy at whose desk Clint's sitting, Barnes, Natasha's new partner. Dark hair, piercing blue eyes. Broody type. "I sent you the witness statements from the 26th. Don't think there's anything helpful in there."

"Thanks, I saw it," she replies. "I didn't notice anything either but we can go over it later in more detail."

Barnes nods, fishing some menu from his desk. "Sounds good. I'll go get Chinese, you want anything?"

"The usual," she replies, folding her forearms on the desk. "Sesame noodles with chicken for Clint."

"I'll see whether they have that," Barnes says, already pulling the door shut behind him. "Okay. See you."

He doesn't know when the uneasy feeling in his stomach started but it gets so much worse when he sees how she looks after Barnes. "He seems alright."

"Yeah," Natasha agrees absentmindedly. "He is."

Better rip the bandaid off. "How long have you been sleeping with him?"

She sighs. "Clint -"

"It's fine," he replies. "You can just tell me."

She bites her lip stubbornly, some older trauma coming through. "I'm not."

"Tasha. Come on."

She sighs again, pushing some file to the side. "Three months."

Three months. If he had just gotten over himself five, four months ago - Too late for that. "Well, I'm happy for you."

"Not telling anyone," she mutters, plucking invisible lint off her desk. "Or they won't let him take the Sergeant's exam."

Of course he's taking the Sergeant's exam. "Don't worry, I don't even work here."

She smiles weakly. "Sorry."

This wouldn't have happened if she hadn't gotten shot. Who knows what they would have become if she had stayed in Chicago, where people assumed they were either siblings or married for a decade, where everything was perfect until everything went wrong - Too late. "Nothing to be sorry for."

She swallows. "You wanted to say something, right?"

He's not going to tell her now, not about the request to be transferred that he has at home all filled out, just waiting for an envelope and a stamp, New York - Too late. "Oh, don't remember. Can't have been important."

Her eyes narrow, exactly like the old Tasha, the one who always saw through his crap. "If you're sure about that."

"You should visit sometime," he says instead. "Coulson asked. If you're ready for that, of course."

"Mhm." She shakes her head. "You know what, I think I might be. You still do the Thanksgiving party?"

He snorts, ignoring the cold hand squeezing his heart. "Of course we still do the Thanksgiving party."

Chapter 2 on AO3

#BNC2023 #natasha romanoff #clint barton #bucky barnes #buckynat #clintasha #black widow #hawkeye #winter soldier #fanfic #my writing

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duskwoodgirl4life · 2 years ago

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This started out as a Oneshot but the more I started writing I had to turn it into a story

Chapter 1

It had been 2 years since MC last spoke with Jake. Everyday she looked at her phone for any sign of new messages from him she sat and thought about it all of the time. Now that she had moved to duskwood to be closer to the group it was some comfort to her. While MC was sitting by the window watching the rain run down the window. Her thoughts drifted back to Jake and how he promised her that he wouldn't leave after he got out of the mine. He would find a way for them to be together. He told her that he loved her when MC read it her heart warmed and a smile spread across her face. She wrote back to him "I love you to Jake"

She felt something inside her that knew she had to go and find him. She got up from the windowsill and took out her laptop looking at all the locations close by that had a Chinese restaurant across from it. That's if he was even a neat one this was just a shot in the dark that he might be near one. MC quickly wrote down several locations and packed a boy with everything she would need. Before she left she sent a text to Jessy letting her know what she was going to do.

MC: Hey Jessy, there is something I have to do. I think you know what I am going to do. Please don't be mad. I have to do this.

Jessy: MC, I get it please just be careful and if you need anything please let me know day or night stay safe MC xx

MC: thanks Jessy xx

MC put her phone back in her pocket making sure she had everything she put on her jacket and grabbed her car keys. Once in the car she opened up the chat between her and Jake she thought for a few seconds about sending him a message. The more she thought about it her fingers started to type out a message.

MC: hi Jake, long time no speak I know you're in hiding but I can't do this anymore you can hate me for it if you want but I am coming to look for you. I can't live without you Jake I love you Jake xx

MC hit send and a wave of emotions washed over her had she done the right thing in letting Jake know she was coming to find him. MC started the car and set the first location on her sat nav. The first location would take her to Colville; it was a big town outside of duskwood Jessy had told her a little about when they first met. After a few hours of driving MC pulled up at the first motel MC got out of the car and went to get a room. The motel looked a little run down and the vacancy sign was broken. There were some not so friendly people hanging around outside but MC just kept her focus on the reception area.

Once MC made it inside she paid for a couple of nights upfront, the receptionist gave her the key to her room. MC made her way up the stairs to her room. The inside looked a little better than the outside. There was a double bed in the center of the room with a TV on the wall. On either side of the bed were two night stands, the bathroom was simple, it had a shower, toilet and sink. On the desk in the bedroom was a kettle and mug with some coffee and tea. MC closed the curtains and locked the door, turned on the TV for background noise and sat down on the bed.

MC pulled out her phone and saw a message from Jake, her heart started to race for the first time in 2 years he had reached out to her.

Jake: MC, do not come looking for me it is for your own safety, I will not put you in danger please go home.

A tear ran down MCs face she couldn't believe he was being so cold, didn't he get that she was so in love with him that she needed to be with him. She had spent 2 years thinking of the day they would finally get to meet. MC started to type a message back to Jake she wasn't going to give up on her mission to find him.

MC: No Jake!! I won't. I am going to find you. I need you, listen hackerboy I love you do I am going to find you!!

MC threw her phone down on the bed anger taking over her, sure part of her understood why Jake didn't want her to find him but he promised her that they would see each other again. MC knew there was nothing she could do right now so she grabbed some instant noodles from her bag and made something to eat.

The next morning MC woke up looking at her phone and there were no new messages from Jake. She got up out of bed and went to take a shower feeling a little better. After the shower she made a coffee and sat down on the bed. While MC waited for the coffee to be made she got dressed and dried her hair. Once the coffee was done she sat at the desk with her laptop with the boy mug in her hands.

MCs POV

There are a few locations I can check out today after what Jake said last night my hopes of finding him feel defeated. I have to find him though I miss him so much I've never felt like this about anyone before. I don't even know what I'm going to do even if I manage to find the right location. Do I just go in and start looking around? I know I can't just sit here and do nothing. I gather my thoughts and recenter myself taking a deep breath in and out I put my trainers on and head out the door. I drove around for a while with no luck. I decide to pull over and grab some food from a small convenience shop.

Feeling defeated, I head to my car putting the bags on the back seat, I look up to start the car and see a figure in the shadows coming closer. My heart started to beat even faster it felt like it was going to jump out of my chest as the figure got closer I realized that it wasn't Jake they just continued walking towards the shop. I start my car and head back to the motel for the night there is nothing more I can do right now. I'm starting to think Jake doesn't even want to be found. Would he purposely hide himself even more just so I won't find him? I have all these thoughts running around my mind. I was so focused and hell bent on finding him.

The next day MC checked a few more places with no luck, she headed back to the motel to check out. Once in the car MC checked her map before moving onto the next location the next one would lead her out of colville and into the next city. She took her phone out before setting off. She looked at her message and noticed that all her texts to Jake had been deleted. The more she looked she noticed that not all of them had been there was one left. It was the very last message Jake had sent her before leaving the mine "I love you MC" "I love you to Jake" a tear fell down MCs cheek her heart felt like it was breaking.

Would she ever be able to find him? Will all the promises he made stay the same empty, nothing but empty promises from him did he even mean what he said in that mine. Or was he just saying it to make MC feel better? MC threw her phone on the passenger seat and started the car. Driving to the next location on her list more doubts started to fill her mind was she doing the right thing? She shook the thoughts out of her mind and continued driving.

Once she arrived at the next motel she parked the car and went to check in, this motel was a lot nicer and the room was more cozy and welcoming. The double bed was in the center of the room with two night stands either side. The bathroom was a lot bigger, the shower had more space to move about on one of the walls was a towel warmer. There was a desk in the corner of the room equipped with a kettle, coffee and tea.

MCs POV

As it's still light outside I can go and get some more supplies from the shop across the road from the motel. Grabbing my jacket and keys I make my way over to the shop and pick up a few things. While I walk about the shop my mind drifts back to Jake remembering all the promises he made me. Was it really all for nothing? Did I really care that little to him for him to delete all the messages we had sent each other. The more I thought about it I knew I had to be wrong. He kept that one message there for a reason he really did love me and just doesn't want to put me in danger.

I want him to hold me in his arms like he promised, I want to go on that date with him to a Chinese restaurant. I could feel the hope starting to rise inside me. I knew I could do this. I have to do this. It's the only way we can truly be together and if that means leaving my old life behind I will gladly do that for him.

Jake I will find you, I will look into your bright blue ocean eyes and tell you how much I love you.

#duskwood #everbyte game #duskwood jake #duskwood hacker #iamjake #duskwood jake x mc #i love you jake #jake x mc #he loves me #i love you #i will find you #my heart belongs to you

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willbrakeforneature · 9 months ago

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blue skies opened up today after an overcast few days ☁️ I ran ~22 miles over the last three days (usually load my week at the back end) and talked over some run plans for next weekend where I’ll be crewing/pacing friends at a 100K race.

I treated myself to a few beverages, the recently acquired tea paired with a new ceramic mug 🙂 I picked up some beans from a favorite local coffee house. Fair trade coffee and handmade ceramic cups make up some of my compulsions.

The Ale-8 as my cemetery snack, my mom and I usually bringing something to enjoy as we visit. I laid some flowers out for my Dad, grandparents and friends ~ I chose red carnations for Valentine’s Day and the Chinese New Year. The crocuses were in bloom and the magnolia buds seemed like they were about to break.

#running #trail running #personal #ale8 #spring is near

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venus-light · 2 years ago

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A list of pleasures of the flesh and small joys about being alive:

Beautiful people, sex, friendship. The flesh of fruit. The petals of a flower, and the smell of baking bread. Toast that crunches in soup, a soft cat on the windowsill. New songs to sing in the kitchen, playlists made with love, another shot pulled back with laughter.

Another experience ticked off the list. No rush. Cool tattoos. More piercings over the years. Singing your heart out and being applauded. Remembering how someone takes their tea. Soft hair. Painting stars on your face. Getting drunk at a party. Making two coffees in the morning. Maybe three. Cradling the warmth of a mug in your palms. Having a blanket placed on your lap. Sitting down in a newly clean room. Scented candles. Sleepovers. A shelf full of drinks. Lightning storms caught on camera. Tropical weather. False eyelashes. Takeaway food from all corners of the world. Having a nickname. Walking quietly in the early hours of the morning. Talking excitedly on the same wavelength as someone.

The kindness of a bus driver. A sweet, excited conversation with a waiter. Being lost in a crowd. Teaching something to a friend. Existing in beautiful nature. Having people to share it with. Beautiful sunsets in the evening through a car window. Roadtrips. Cathedrals. Being called over to join someone. Choosing each item carefully from the grocery store. Seeing growth from the people you love, seeing them look visibly excited, visibly happier. Clicking with someone you just met. Cooking for someone. Navigating a new city.

Making your siblings laugh. Making your friends laugh. The sound of an ensemble harmonising together. The ring of violins and cellos. A city dressed up for Mardi Gras. A sincere compliment. The hours waiting in anticipation before a concert. People playing chess on the floor in a crowd. The feeling of riding through tunnels on a subway. Tall boots. Bubble tea. A couple falling asleep together on the train. Pride flags in unexpected places. Solidarity in unexpected places. A crowd singing together on the streets of Melbourne. The bold lights of a performance.

Art that grabs you by the throat. Sexual tension. Intricate rituals. Understanding. Safety. Challenge. Acceptance. Love. Healing. A group hug with friends. Singing duets. Spinning around in a new flowing dress. Dressing yourself up in glitter. Not feeling alone in the world. Strangers who smile at you on the street. Cute kids. Travel. Self-made photoshoots. Hearing your musician friends play and laugh and sing. Nighttime in a new city. Collapsing in a hotel room and taking your shoes off. Playing soft, calming music so your siblings can fall asleep. Taking the top bunk.

Acts of care. Warm drinks and gloves on a cool day. Mountains though the window. Opening someone’s drink for them. Swigs of water after a long volleyball game. Good banter. Fulfilling conversation. Celebration. Snow. A great joke in a story you keep coming back to. Resting your legs in a pool. A shoulder to cry on. A Chinese name for your younger sister.

A poem that makes you see shrimp colours. The ocean. Space. Forests. Crowds. Choirs. Music. Vastness and magnitude and interconnectedness. Forest cities. The feeling of being desired. The relief of being a part of something larger than yourself. The feeling of pride when you create something beautiful. Costume design. Children’s performances. The way creativity flows like a mysterious, branching, unpredictable stream. Being remembered for something you love and are good at. Experiencing intrigue. Wonder. Appreciation. Beauty. Desire. Trust. Intimacy. Catharsis. Awe. Relief. Surrender. Letting yourself be moved to tears.

Feeling yourself grow and change with time. The slow work of building skills over the course of years. The fulfilment of a new technique finally clicking. A great serve in volleyball. A high five. A high note that resonates just right. Makeup that shimmers. Dewdrops on the bus window. A dress that captures the light.

Beautiful comics and artwork. The feeling of finally understanding something. Characters and people that capture a fragment of yourself forever. Work that changes you. Resonance. Melting. Fondness. Pride. Self-recognition. Vanity. Nonconformity. Joy. Giving in to something. A really good u-quiz.

Understanding and acceptance. Setting boundaries, finally. Letting go of resentment, finally. Letting go of a life lived in service, shedding a dead identity like old skin. Making choices out of love for yourself, and out of love for others. Ninety three thousand photos in your camera roll. Mementos of love and grief. Protest marches. Charity work. Cafe desserts. Time spent in joyful conversation. Chatting on the couch with family and friends. Learning how to love someone else. Someone else learning how to love you. Being flawed, accepted and safe.

Choosing what feels good over what looks good. Living on your own terms. Letting go of repression. Forgiving yourself. Unburdening yourself from shame. Offering yourself acceptance, understanding, solidarity, compassion. Having the safety and self-assurance to offer the same to others. Refusing to assimilate, and choosing to be authentic instead. Being in a room for the first time, where conflict and disagreement is safe. Being flawed and vulnerable and embraced. Waking up one day and realising you’re not afraid all the time anymore.

#poetry #spilled ink #personal growth #gratitude #venus writes

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