#i hope that nice lady will always have good business and i hope i conveyed my thank you sincere enough so that she will know i appreciate it

[collecting--stardust]

to all the people who has ever given free food to others during their work, thank you so much it really means a lot and I hope you will always be blessed :)

sincerely,

someone whose day gets brighter because they received free food <3

[medusapelagia]

M - Mixtape

M is for Mads (@the-redcrate) that helped me brainstorming and find the right take on my Exchange fic!💜

I hope you will enjoy your present 🎁!

Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Steve /Eddie (mention of Chrissy /Robin) WT: no one Words: 790

There are different kinds of mixtapes. 

The mixtapes with all the songs that have been recorded from the radio, which are a mix between advertisements, songs without their beginning and songs without their end, there are the copies from another cassette, and Eddie has dozens of those, and then there are THE mixtapes: the ones with the perfect songs in the perfect order, put together to convey a message.

Eddie is the best at choosing the right songs, that is why he has started an entire business where he creates the perfect mixtape for each person and the weeks before prom are his personal high season.

Tens of jocks and shy girls knock on his trailer door to ask him for a mixtape.

Pricing is different and mostly depends on the person who is asking for a mixtape: if the person was a dick to him during the year, that immediately translates into fifty percent more on his usual rate, if he was nice to him he can do a ten percent discount, but they flatter him, well then he will let the other person rob him blind. Especially if the person in question is Chrissy Cunnigham, Queen of Hawkins High.

“So who is the receiver of your mixtape, my queen? Jason Carver?”

She shakes her blond curls “No. We have broken up.”

Oh. That’s new “I didn’t know. Are you ok?”

“Yeah. I mean, it hurt a bit, but it’s for the best, right?” she asks with a hopeful smile and all that Eddie can do is smile back.

“So, who are we trying to conquer?”

“Oh, no, it’s for a friend. She… she is going through a hard period and I thought that one of your mixtapes could cheer her up.”

“So no love songs, am I right?”

She blushes “No, not for the moment at least.”

“Fine. Tell me the name and I’ll get to work.”

“Robin.”

Eddie turns toward Chrissy “Robin? From band?”

She nods.

“And you say she is going through a tough period…”

“Yeah. I mean, she is always with Steve but it’s obvious that he doesn’t care about her like he cares about Nancy, and she always looks so sad at the cafeteria, and I thought that, now that I’m single we could go to prom together, like two besties!”

Eddie raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment.

“I’ll make the perfect mixtape for you. There is something you would like to tell her?”

She hides her hands in her jacket “Well, I’d like to tell her that she is fun, and caring and that she makes me laugh even on my hardest day.”

Eddie takes notes of everything she says, and then she looks at her “Three days from now your mixtape will be done.” 

She hugs him and when she leaves with her blond ponytail Eddie stares at the notes that he took, it looks like maybe a love song or two is actually needed.

What Eddie is not expecting is seeing Steve the Hair Harrington asking for a mixtape.

“Still trying to get back your lady?”

“Nancy? Nah. We are done.”

“So who is the tape for?”

“Me?”

“You?”

Steve nods “Dustin insists that I have horrible taste in music and that I need to broaden my horizon.” He makes a nice imitation of the kid, then turns toward Eddie “So I thought that you could help me. He is always saying how cool you are, and how cool is everything you do, so...”

Eddie smirks “I thought that my music ‘Wasn’t music’.”

“Come on, you were playing some screaming guy at full volume in front of my house!”

That’s true, maybe Eddie did it to piss Steve off just a little.

“So a mixtape for you? Ok. I’ll do it.”

Steve tries to get his wallet “For the boy who drives the shrimps I’ll work for free. Are you on babysitting duty for prom?”

“Yeah…” he answers bored.

“Cool. I’ll see you there and we will listen to some good music.”

Steve stares at him for a long moment, then he nods and gets back to his car.

In the next few days, Eddie works on twenty different tapes and even catches a couple or two listening to his mixtapes, sharing the headphones, but the one he worked harder on is burning in the pocket of his jacket. He has an entire plan figured out: he will wait for Steve to drop the kids and then he will propose to go smoking at the quarry, listening to some good music, and who knows, maybe Steve will get the message he tried to convey with his mixtape and they will share more than a couple of joints and some good music.

[semisgroupie]

Third Time's The Charm

Club Member!Taichi x Fem. Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: fingering (f!receiving), exhibitionism (Oikawa watches), condom usage (i know, crazy right?), praise, many many check ins, safe word mention, characters are college aged (both seniors in college so 21/22)

A/N: this is my submission for the @hqintheclub Haikyuu University Sex Club collab! Read the rest of the works here! I am so thankful for this network and to contribute to the collab, I hope this does a good job in conveying safe sex practices. Also a huge huge thank you to @meiansmistress for beta-reading!!! Yes the safe word is a little tribute to what Taichi does in the timeskip.

Once Shinsuke called the end of the meeting, Kawanishi stood up and made his way to the front of the room with his clipboard in hand.

“Alright my fellow club members, I’m just going to go over the statistics before the end of the month, who need to go for their STD tests and the notes I took from this meeting.” He adjusted his glasses and flipped through the papers. “Okay, so some recommendations from this meeting are, ‘buy scented toilet paper’ by Tooru. Yeah, not happening.”

A whine came from the back of the meeting room.

“Dude, why not? You know how girls have to pee after sex? They could have something that smells good while they do it!” Tooru’s eyes lit up offering his proposal, just like every other month, only to have it shut down again.

“Buy scented candles or something for your smelly bathroom.” Chuckles and snickers erupted in the room while Tooru sat back and pouted like a child. Kawanishi went through the rest of the recommendations and other areas of concern before moving onto the last topic.

“Okay, so for the fun part. Time to see who has had the most and least sex this month.” The room went dead silent as Kawanishi went over the log book. He did a onceover of the totals before looking at the group.

“So the lucky guy with the most amount of happy customers is… Osamu with eighteen.”

“Huh? ‘Samu? He isn’t even here! Not even a member.” Atsumu huffed and kept on ranting and raving about his brother until Kawanishi interrupted him.

“Actually, he’s an unofficial/official member who does not need to really attend meetings since we haven’t properly officiated his membership. But we definitely need to do that since he’s definitely bringing popularity to the club. Next is Mr. Chairperson Tooru and Mr. President Shinsuke both tying in with twelve happy ladies. Congratulations to the both of you. So, now the two least are—well you guys shouldn’t be surprised as these results have been consistent for a while now. But in good spirit, it’s me with two and Keiji with one.”

A shrug came from Keiji as the results were read. Kawanishi felt the same way, it got annoying every single time he had to read the results. They both knew they had to get laid but Kawanishi had his eye on a special someone.

The meeting was called to an end and Kawanishi made his way to his room to get ready for his chemistry lab. There was only one thing circling in his brain—he had to raise his number, but how? There was that one person he wanted but he wasn’t even sure if she even had plans to use the services the club provided, let alone choose him.

You were Kawanishi’s cute little lab partner. Always looking at him with bright doe eyes and always greeting him with a huge smile. You were too cute, too innocent to use the sex club. Kawanishi was sure of that. You probably even had a boyfriend so any hope he had for you was gone.

That was until he overheard you talking to your friends.

You were huffing and complaining about your sex life as you stood in front of the lab room—well, lack of sex in your life. You had a cute pout on your face as you rambled on, completely unaware of Kawanishi eavesdropping on such a private conversation.

“My toys aren’t even as enjoyable anymore! I just give up halfway through because it's the same thing over and over, I’m tired of it! And there’s absolutely no way I’m going to find a random guy on Tinder because he could be a creep or just horrible at sex.”

You sighed and started scrolling through your phone while your friend started thinking about what you said. Kawanishi recognized her, he knew her name started with a J and she was with Osamu last week. He remembered her moaning—well, screams—of Osamu’s name. As Kawanishi shook the thought from his head, “J” spoke.

“Remember that hook up I told you about last week?” She waited for you to nod before she continued speaking, “Well, there’s a website I met him off of. I’ll give it to you now and check it out. I think I saw a picture of your lab partner on the site. But check it out and let me know who you pick. Enjoy your class!”

You gave her a quick thanks before walking into the lab room, getting your goggles and supplies as Kawanishi soon followed. You made small conversation but every time you snuck a glance at him, you couldn’t see him as the type to be a part of the university’s sex club. Jay probably got him confused with someone else but for some reason you couldn’t wait until you got back to your apartment.

You just had to make sure. It was just curiosity. Well, that was what you kept telling yourself when you opened up your laptop and typed the web address in. You were met with the website, seeing the names of all the members and things that they specialized in. While you were scrolling through, your eyes widened and your heart dropped to your stomach.

Secretary: Taichi Kawanishi Specialty: Fingering

“Holy shit. It’s him.”

You read the name over and over again. Maybe it was just the lack of sleep finally getting to you or maybe it was because you unknowingly inhaled some drug that caused you to hallucinate and see his name. No matter how many times you refreshed the screen and rubbed your eyes, nothing changed. His name was still there and so was his specialty.

“Fingering? Well, he does have nice fingers. They are very long.”

You started thinking about his slim fingers, wondering how they would feel on your skin, grazing your most sensitive parts, but before you got too deep in thought you snapped yourself out of it. This was your lab partner! Not some pornstar or prostitute. Not some rando you met on a dating site. You would see him again if you decided to go through with it. How would that change how you two interacted with each other? Would it bring unnecessary tension?

You had this back and forth with yourself all night. You finally made your decision when you couldn’t get yourself off, the toy on your clit no longer bringing the same satisfaction it used to. With a huff you grabbed your laptop and went back to the website. Once the page loaded, you looked through all the guys and their specialties.

“Corsetry? What is that?”

You looked through the rest of the other specialties and you were equally intrigued and confused. You went back to Kawanishi and stared at his name. You didn’t want to ruin anything but you couldn’t stand this any longer—you needed a good fuck and you needed it badly.

“Fuck it.”

You scheduled an appointment with him, Saturday evening, a time where the site said he would be free. You put your laptop away and went to sleep.

The next morning Kawanishi woke up to frantic knocking on his door. He rolled out of bed and opened the door to be welcomed by Tooru.

“Dude, what the fuck? Did someone die?”

“No but check your phone, someone has been scheduled for tomorrow evening.”

Kawanishi rolled his eyes and checked his phone, the notification woke him up.

“Y/N scheduled me for tomorrow evening?”

“Don’t worry my friend. I will get you condoms. But aren’t you glad I sent you for STD testing on Monday? You can thank me later.”

The rest of the day went by normally, then Kawanishi remembered one of the main rules.

“New members and members who fuck the least need to fuck in front of an official club member.”

Kawanishi went to some of the other guys first, but Keiji and Koutarou both said they couldn’t. Shinsuke had to visit his grandmother and some of the other club members were occupied. That left  only one person.

“Tooru, are you busy tomorrow evening?”

Tooru thought for a few seconds then shook his head. He furrowed his eyebrows in a silent question as to why he would be needed tomorrow evening.

“You forgot the rule, didn’t you?” Tooru kept a confused look and shrugged his shoulders.

Kawanishi pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed before continuing. Only if anyone else was free. He would take anyone at this moment over Tooru.

“People who fuck the least in the club need to fuck in front of an official member, and everyone one else is busy so I’m asking you.”

A smile grew on Tooru’s face as he got up and wrapped his arm around Kawanishi’s shoulder.

“Oh my friend, don’t make me seem like I’m the last choice—“

“—you are.”

“Ouch, anyways I’ll be glad to watch. Do you need any tips? All the girls have left with a smile on their face after a night with me. You know I would’ve never thought I’d say this but you should’ve gone to Seijoh or maybe I should’ve gone to Shiratorizawa… I would have gotten you laid all the time, or at least done a better job than stupid Ushiwaka, you wouldn’t have had this little dry spout you’re having now—hey!”

Kawanishi removed Tooru’s arm and walked out of his room.

“Thanks for doing it, I don’t need your help though. If you try coaching me, I don’t care what I’m doing, I will throw you out of the room myself.”

Kawanishi spent the rest of the night and most of the day Saturday organizing his room, making it neat and stuffing his mini fridge with drinks and snacks. When it was time for you to come over, he waited for you in front of the club house.

As he waited, his nerves were getting the best of him. He hadn’t felt this nervous since he lost his virginity. Before he could really start worrying, he saw you approaching, giving him a small wave before you could greet him with a hug.

“Hey, well first off, thank you for choosing me for this. I should explain that we will have someone watch us, so if that makes you uncomfortable I completely understand. It’s just a rule we have for the club and I can show you the rule book if you need me to once we get to my room.”

“It’s okay. If you don’t mind me asking, who will it be?”

Before Kawanishi could answer your question the man in question wrapped his arms around the both of you.

“Hello you two! I shouldn’t need to introduce myself but I’m Tooru and—oh! I recognize you, Y/N right? I think we had biology together last year. You saved my ass so many times with your notes. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Kawanishi here treats you right—ow!”

Kawanishi pinched Tooru’s side and gave him a mean side eye.

“Tooru, remember what I told you yesterday.”

Tooru raised his hands in surrender at Kawanishi’s warning and you couldn’t help but laugh at the interaction. The sound of your laughter helped calm Kawanishi down a bit. He just had to get it through his mind that you were just a regular person with needs just like him, and he was going to help you satisfy those needs.

Light conversation was shared between the three of you as you all walked to his room. Once you crossed the threshold of his bedroom, Kawanishi took your hand as he led you to the bed and sat next to you. You rested your hand on top of his and offered him a shy smile, leaning in slowly.

“C-can I kiss you Kawanishi?”

He cupped your cheek and closed the distance between the both of you. Your lips felt so soft against his and he couldn’t stop himself from deepening the kiss. His hand moved to squeeze the fat of your thigh that was exposed by the skirt you were wearing. He broke away from the kiss to sit against his headboard, patting his thighs.

“Come on, come sit on my lap, pretty girl and we can get started. If you feel uncomfortable, your safe word is mojito. Once you say it, I will stop whatever I’m doing and we can just cuddle or do whatever you want, okay?”

You settled yourself on his lap with a meek “yes” before leaning back in to kiss him. Tooru was sitting on the spare chair in the room, scrolling on his phone. It was adorable to see you get so shy. You were always so confident and so outspoken, but once Kawanishi got you inside his room you crawled into a little shell.

He pulled you down to kiss you this time as his hands wandered over your body. His hands moved over your clothed breasts, squeezing them softly, making whimpers leave your lips. He moved his hands lower to your ass, squishing the flesh, and when you bucked your hips into his he gave it a light smack, swallowing the moan that left you. He pulled away to look at you.

“Can I touch you some more? I just want you to feel really good for me.”

“P-please touch me, w-want more.”

He smirked at your stuttering—it made this even more enjoyable. He leaned in and trailed kisses from your lips to your jaw and neck, your hips bucking more. You were so sensitive he couldn’t wait to see how you would react to his fingers. His hand trailed up your thigh and his thumb grazed against your panties. You bit down on your lip, trying to hide your moans.

It was embarrassing to you how quickly you were falling apart; he hadn’t even touched your skin for more than a few seconds and you already felt like once his fingers touched your bare pussy, you would cum.

Kawanishi licked your neck as he slid your panties to the side.

“Are you ready? I’ll go nice and slow for you.” He spoke into the skin of your neck as his fingers rubbed your slick folds.

“Yes, please.”

Your head dropped to his shoulder once he slid his middle finger inside you, moving slowly. He hissed at the way your cunt swallowed his finger, thinking about how it would feel once his cock was buried inside you. He sped up his thrusts, your muffled moans and whimpers encouraging his actions further. He slipped another finger in, leaning back to see your expressions as you quickly lifted your head from his shoulder.

Your jaw went slack as moans kept falling from your mouth, your hips bucking into his hand as you got lost in the pleasure, chasing your orgasm. His fingers were so long and hit so deep. They felt so good, better than any toy you had used in the past month or so. You were embarrassingly close to your orgasm after only a short time.

“Ka-Kawanishi, ‘m close!”

“I know, just cum for me, okay? Cum all over my fingers, let me know how good I’m making you feel.”

He thrusted his fingers faster, using his thumb to rub your clit. He rubbed your back with his free hand while watching all your expressions. Your hands made their way to his shirt, balling the fabric in your fists as you came undone on his fingers with a moan of his name. He slowed his fingers down to help you relax, making sure he wasn’t overstimulating you.

“You did such a good job for me. You look so beautiful when you cum. So good for me. Are you okay?”

“Yes I’m fine,” you reply breathlessly.

“We can stop here. All I care about is you cumming. I could continue fingering you until my fingers turn pruney if you want or I could get you some snacks and water and just talk.”

You shook your head; you couldn’t leave him hard. You wanted to fuck him, and the snacks and drinks could always come later.

“I-I want to fuck you. I want you to feel good too.”

“Don’t worry about me, this is all about you and your pleasure. I’m here for you, okay?”

You nodded as he reached over for a condom on his nightstand. You lifted yourself off his lap slightly to remove your panties and skirt as he pulled off his sweatpants and boxers, revealing how hard he was.

“Okay, so how do you want to do this? I want you to be comfortable and enjoy yourself.”

“I want to ride you.”

You sat yourself on his thigh as he opened the foil package and rolled the condom onto his cock, pinching the tip of it. Once it was on, he placed his hands on your hips to help you guide you down on his cock. His grip tightened, feeling your warmth envelop his cock and fighting the urge to just thrust up into you. He moved you down slowly until you bottomed out.

“You did amazing, now take your time. I’ll help guide your hips so you don’t go too fast.”

You placed your hands on his shoulders as you slowly bounced yourself on his cock, the tip brushing against your g-spot over and over again. Praises kept falling from Kawanishi’s lips as moans kept coming out from yours. Tooru couldn’t help but start palming himself over his sweatpants at the sight of you and Kawanishi, your sweet moans and cries filling the room. Your hands went under your shirt, freeing your breasts from the confines of your bra. You played with and teased your nipples, adding extra stimulation to the pleasure you were already feeling.

The closer you got to your orgasm, the more your legs shook, making him take more control. He bounced you up and down on his cock, thrusting his hips up to meet yours. You felt so good around him and the sight of you playing with your nipples turned him on even more. If he thought you looked beautiful when you were fucking yourself on his fingers, you looked like a goddess now. Your pussy clenched his cock tighter and tighter with each thrust, signalling to him that your orgasm was approaching.

“Cum for me Y/N, cum for me. I know you’re close, I feel you clenching me so tightly. Come on and cum for me.”

Once the soft commands were spoken, you came around his cock, your eyes clenched shut as your jaw went slack letting out a silent moan. As you were riding out your orgasm Kawanishi couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. Small beads of sweat rolled down your neck and you finally opened your eyes to make eye contact with him. You leaned down and connected your lips with his once more.

Kawanishi kept thrusting until he filled up the condom with his cum. Once he felt you relax around him, he lifted you up slowly and laid you down on the bed, covering you with a blanket. He pulled the condom off, tying a knot and throwing it out in the trash can in his room. He nodded at Tooru, giving him the signal to leave, and so he did with a wink and a wave.

Kawanishi reached out for your hand and helped you get up as he walked you to the bathroom.

“I just need you to go to the bathroom and then we could watch something.”

You did your business and left the bathroom with a small smile on your face.

“Is there any way we could have this happen again? I don’t know if you guys can have regulars or if it's against the rules.”

Kawanishi chuckled and walked you back to his bed.

“We have no rules about regulars and I’d love to do this with you again.”

He kissed you on the forehead and handed you a water bottle to drink from before laying down next to you.

As he laid down next to you, talking about a random topic you brought up, he finally understood when people said the third time's the charm. He couldn’t have asked for a better person to raise his total to three.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 7

Sorry this took so long y'all. This chapter was difficult to write. Hannibal invites Theresa for dinner and y/n finally confronts her.

Trigger warning: mentions of suicide, child sex abuse; graphic descriptions of violence; confronting an abuser; body-shaming

The stitches in your cut hadn't even dissolved before Theresa intruded on your life again. Before you stormed out, Hannibal did in fact invite her to dinner. Polite society would rule the invitation null and void after that confrontation, but Theresa felt herself exempt from the laws of politeness. Like Evangelicals or craisins, Theresa loved to insert herself where she was clearly not wanted.

Of course, you were peeved at Hannibal for upholding the invitation when she called. But you could tell he had something planned. He was intrigued by her audacity and wanted to see how far it would take her. You couldn't begrudge him professional curiosity, as you too wondered what the fuck her problem was.

In truth, you saw what he did to your grandma, and you wanted to see him do it to Theresa. You wanted her subject to the same psychological torment that she put you through. And that, you realized, was why he honored that invitation. He wanted to vindicate you. And that was the sexiest damn thing you could possibly imagine.

Theresa showed up alone. That was her first mistake.

"Thank you for having me, Dr. Lecter." Theresa greeted, shedding her long coat and dropping it to the ground. "Will [F/N] be joining us?"

"[F/N] will most certainly be joining us." Hannibal said, his voice hardening. He noticed her coat in a pile on the floor and something in his head clicked.

"I hope I'm not overdressed." Theresa tossed her hair over her shoulders. 

She was. And you knew even before she showed up that she'd wear that green evening dress with the plunging neckline. It was the same one she wore to prom. She kept it as a memento all these years to memorialize the day she completely fucked you over. 

She was here to make history repeat itself. 

"Not all, Ms. [L/N]," Hannibal grinned, glancing at the staircase. "[F/N] is just touching up her makeup.”

“That sounds like [F/N].” Theresa laughed. “She always took the most time getting ready in the morning. And she was always the ugliest. It was quite sad, really.”  

Hannibal reminded himself what he had in store for Theresa before letting himself get angry. “If you could join me in the kitchen, I could use a little help with the appetizers.” 

Theresa took the bait and followed him through the threshold into the massive kitchen. 

“Could I trouble you for some psychological advice, Doctor Lecter?” She said, leaning against the island.

“That depends.” He answered, though the tone of his voice connoted a firm ‘no’. “Are you going to be honest with me?” 

Theresa mounted herself on top of the island and crossed her legs. “I’ve just been having quite a bit of trouble in my marriage.”

"Please get off my counter." Hannibal politely demanded. "I just sterilized it this morning."

“My husband just isn’t so excited by me anymore.” She pouted like a child. “He just doesn’t seem interested in... well, any of the things I have to offer him.” 

“Have you considered the possibility that you have nothing to offer?” You said. You approached them with purpose, the skirt of your purple dress fluttering behind you. Your favorite pair of strappy heels clacked against the tile and echoed through the room with every step. 

“[F/N] makes a valid point.” Hannibal agreed, taking you under his arm. “You’re an abusive narcissist, a serial adulterer, and you’re quite horrible at flirting. I certainly don’t understand what you could possibly have to offer.” 

“Nice to see you again, [F/N].” Theresa said, resigned to her defeat. “I didn’t want to say anything at the wedding, but you look like you’ve gained a few pounds.” 

You almost laughed. Growing up, Grandma had subjected you to every form of body-shaming known to man. Nothing Theresa could say would have any effect on you. 

“Really? Because I’ve never felt better in my life.” You smiled, knowing it to be true. “Hannibal is an amazing cook. You’d probably gain weight too if you were eating so well.” 

"Well, I have appearances to keep up." She refuted. "Gideon and I both have very busy schedules. Besides, he finds the kitchen more of a woman's domain."

"Unfortunate for you." Hannibal threw a dish towel over his shoulder and picked up a wine bottle by the neck. He kept his hands busy by pouring three glasses of wine. "That Gideon does not put in the time to keep you well-fed and fulfilled. Might I suggest not molesting children as a remedy?"

You snickered as he handed you a glass. You migrated to the dining table, where the trial was set to take place.

"Did you invite me here just to gang up on me?" Theresa leaned back in her chair. "Because if so, that's really mature."

"Of course not." You said, Hannibal pulling your chair out for you. You placed your napkin in your lap. "Well, maybe a little."

Theresa took a long sip of wine. "You're not going to get an apology if that's what you're after."

"Oh no." You shook your head. "I've stopped expecting basic human decency from you years ago."

"Good." Theresa huffed. "Since that's clearly what you want me to be, that's what I'll be."

"Don't give me that shit." You sighed. "I know what gaslighting is and you're not as good at it as you think."

"Y'know I never asked to be a parent figure to you and Anna." She crossed her arms.

"You may not have asked for it but you sure as hell enjoyed it." You countered, furrowing your brow. "Don't act like you weren't the dictator's right-hand man. You sucked up to grandma and always got preferential treatment."

"I was a kid." She shrugged. "You're really gonna blame me for the shit I did before my skull fully hardened?"

"Well, it exposes a way larger pattern of behavior." You explained. "You're a megalomaniac that wants power without responsibility. So you attach yourself to someone with power, probably another narcissist who's too self-involved to see what a leech you really are. It's what you did with grandma and it's what you're doing with Gideon."

Dressing Theresa down like that gave you a rush. It made you feel alive. But more importantly, it made her look small. It stripped her of her power.

"Well done, Sherlock." Theresa taunted. "But you're forgetting one thing. If I were a megalomaniac, why would I waste my time beating up on you? Some nobody with no power to speak of?"

"Because I'm a living reminder of your past." You narrowed your eyes. "I remind you that you can't just beat everyone into submission."

"Ladies," Hannibal interrupted, holding three bowls. He placed one in front of you, the savory broth enticing your nose. "This is pot-au-feu. It is a simple French stew made from beef, vegetables and potatoes. I added a marrow-bone for extra richness. It's the perfect combination of simplicity and substance."

You couldn't even wait for Hannibal to sit down. You'd been so hungry all day. Smelling the meat slowly braise over the course of the day was torturous. You went straight for the marrow, which was a recent favorite of yours.

Theresa picked the bone up between two fingers and dropped it onto the table, her face wrapped with disgust. "I think I'll pass. I'm not a dog."

"You are not." Hannibal said, spearing a piece of meat on his fork. "I find dogs much better company."

Theresa tented her fingers and glared at Hannibal. "So you're just going to let her rip into me? Aren't you supposed to be the professional here?"

"Don't discount [F/N]'s analysis just because she is a student." Hannibal glared back at her. "From what I know about you, she's dead on."

"Isn't this entire interaction a professional conflict of interest?" Theresa folded her arms. "I don't trust her to analyze me because she hates me."

Hannibal put his utensils down. Anger flashed across his face. "I don't think you quite understand what this interaction is. You are not owed an unbiased psychological profile, especially not from me. You are not my patient. You are [F/N]'s abuser."

Theresa narrowed her eyes and leaned over the table. "So if you understand that, why am I here?"

"You think very highly of your intelligence, Theresa." Hannibal glanced down at his dish. "Perhaps you can figure that one out yourself."

You coughed, narrowly avoiding choking on your food.

"Darling, please pace yourself." Hannibal instructed, though he seemed pleased with how enthusiastically you inhaled your meal. "You're going to make yourself sick if you eat too fast."

"I'm sorry." You said after taking a long sip of water. "I don't know why, I'm just so hungry today."

Hannibal dropped his eyebrows, looking worried. "Did you take your medicine this morning?"

"I think so." You nodded.

Theresa smiled and reached for her phone. The movement caught Hannibal's attention, and he could tell what she was up to right away.

"Theresa, it's very rude to text at the dinner table." He scolded, taking a sip of wine. "Surely, anything you're saying to your grandmother and Anna, you can say to us."

Theresa, too proud to back down, slipped her phone into her purse and met your eyes. "You're pregnant."

"Brilliant fucking deductive reasoning." You rolled your eyes. "A woman gains a little weight and has a healthy appetite? That's the only logical conclusion I would draw."

"Well, aren’t we defensive?" Theresa taunted. "Congratulations, by the way."

"Theresa, stop it." You gritted your teeth, trying not to convey how pissed you were.

"You're going to need to drop out of school to take care of the baby full time." Theresa sneered.

You knew exactly where she was taking this and you wanted more than anything to just disappear. You reached for the wine bottle and refilled your glass. "Shut up, Theresa. Shut the fuck up before you say something you'll regret."

Her face lit up from the satisfaction of finally making you angry. "And someday you'll blow your brains out just like your mother!"

This time, she would regret it. You chucked the empty wine bottle across the table. It hit her directly in the face with a deafening crunch before ricocheting off the table and shattering on the ground.

Theresa brought her finger to her nose, noticing the stream of blood trickling from her nostril. She stood up, stabilizing herself with the back of the chair.

"I didn't think you had it in you." She jabbed before collapsing to the ground.

You went silent, too afraid to look at Hannibal.

"For what it's worth, darling." Hannibal piped up. "I always knew that you did."

[penny-anna]

a hundred buttons

“It’s this dress,” Yennefer admitted. “It fastens up the back with about a hundred miniature buttons. It’s, not strictly possible for one to remove it on one’s own.”

Jaskier snorted. “Oh? Well, how would usually get it off?”

“Usually I just,” she said, and motioned, trying to convey the general idea of I unfasten them all at once, with magic. “Whoosh.”

His eyes widened as he grasped the problem. “Ahh, I see,” he said. “That does sound very awkward.”

Temporarily bereft of her magic, Yennefer finds herself in a tricky position.

(On Ao3!)

The room was too small for Yennefer’s liking, and she paced it from end to end, keeping her ears pricked up. There could be someone standing right outside the door, waiting for her, and she’d never know. There could be someone lurking outside the window. She lifted a corner of the curtain, peering out at the empty blackness.

She dropped into a crouch, making certain that the knife she kept strapped to her angle was still secure. Standing up, she resumed her pacing. Her corset was beginning to chafe at her, pressing uncomfortably snug around her ribs.

She was itching for this to be over.

Footsteps pounded down the stairs. Geralt’s bard put his head into the room. “Evening,” he said, though it was well after midnight. “Still up?”

“Evidently,” she said. “Any sign of Geralt?”

He pulled a face. “Not a whisper. I take it you haven’t had any luck with the curse, then?”

“For the last time,” she said, “it is not a curse. A curse I could handle. The lingering effects of a magical void are the farthest thing from a curse.”

“If you say so.”

“In fact one might say it’s the precise opposite of a curse.”

Smacking his lips, he said, “it’s all the same to me.”

He, of course, had felt nothing at all, even when he was standing in the void itself. He hadn’t felt its deadening silence, its stomach-churning emptiness. He hadn’t felt anything vital inside himself go dark.

No, he’d just stood there with his hands on his hips and said, “what’s got into your pair, then?”

She was tired. She hadn’t realised how much she’d come to rely on her magic to give herself little boosts, after a long and difficult day. She said, “I can’t imagine where he’s got to.”

“Well, he’s away in a huff, so probably nowhere in particular,” said Jaskier.

“He isn’t in a huff,” said Yennefer.

“Hmm, I really think he is,” the bard said. “You know, because you so unfairly snapped at him that this entire situation was his fault?”

“It wasn’t unfair.”

“Even though this whole mess is quite patently no-one’s fault,” he went on as if she hadn’t spoken, “and there was really no need for any shouting or throwing things or storming off in huffs.”

“Debatable,” she said. “Did you come down here just to irritate me?”

“Ah, no, I came down because I forgot my pack,” he said. “And, I suppose, to say that I’m going to bed.”

“Alright,” she said. “You do that.”

“Are you staying up?” he said. “Because if so I’d appreciate if you could stop rattling about. This house is very creaky.”

“I shall rattle as much as I like,” she said. “I’m waiting for Geralt.”

He tilted his head to the side, and stepped fully into the room. “Much as it doesn’t behove me to express concern for your wellbeing,” he said. “Given how much of a huff he was in there’s every chance he won’t be back before morning, so I wouldn’t bother.”

There were times – not infrequently – when he’d go out of his way to remind her that he’d known Geralt longer and therefore knew him better. Oh, he’d said airily, Geralt can’t stand sheep’s cheese. Oh, Geralt always gets like this after a hunt. Geralt doesn’t like it when people touch his weapons. Geralt won’t like this. Geralt doesn’t do that. It was difficult to gage if that was what he was trying to do now, without being able to look into his mind, but she didn’t think it was. He seemed to be making a sincere attempt to offer her some advice.

She had to admit, privately, that she felt a little better for having him in the house. Unlikely as it was that they’d be attacked by marauders or wild beasts or monsters in the twelve or so hours before the effects of the void wore off, she was painfully aware that she was limited in her ability to defend herself and that if the worst did happen, the bard’s help might be better than no help at all.

But his being aware of that most uncomfortable facet of the situation – the thought of his having the gall to feel protective of her – made her skin crawl.

“It’s fine,” she said curtly. “I’ll wait up for him.”

“Hm,” he said.

“What?”

“Are you alright? Aside from the obvious, I mean. You seem a little – frazzled.”

She was tired. She was sweaty, and itchy. She wanted badly to complain to someone and since Jaskier was the only person around for miles he’d have to do.

“It’s this dress,” she admitted. “It fastens up the back with about a hundred miniature buttons. It’s, not strictly possible for one to remove it on one’s own.”

He snorted. “Oh? Well, how would usually get it off?”

“Usually I just,” she said, and motioned, trying to convey the general idea of I unfasten them all at once, with magic. “Whoosh.”

His eyes widened as he grasped the problem. “Ahh, I see,” he said. “That does sound very awkward.”

He looked her up and down, pursing his lips. She avoided his gaze.

“Well,” he said at length. “Night, then.” Turning, he left her alone.

Yennefer stood in the middle of the room, listening to his footsteps recede up the stairs. After a moment, they faltered and then began to descend.

Leaning back into the room, he said, “would you like some help?”

“From you?”

“I do have,” he waggled his fingers, “some experience removing ladies’ clothing. And very dextrous hands.”

“I’ll wait,” she said.

“All night?”

“If necessary.”

“Are you sure?” he said. “I promise not to tell anyone. Not even Geralt. I, I really do understand how, hm. Uncomfortable this must be.”

Yennefer heaved a sigh. Her corset creaked faintly beneath her dress. Oh, but she ached to have it off. “Fine,” she said.

“Goodness,” he said, upstairs in the bedroom, peering at her back in the flickery lamplight. “They are small, aren’t they? You can barely see them.”

“Just unfasten it,” she said. She felt a gentle tug at her neckline as he began to ease the first button out of its hole. “It’s a very fashionable and elegant design,” she said stiffly. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“It is very nice,” he agreed. “I suppose this is the sort of thing one usually has a ladies’ maid for.”

Or a husband, Yennefer thought.

“So this void business,” he said, working his way down her back, carefully teasing out each button. He was being more delicate about it than she’d expected, trying not to damage the embroidery. More delicate than Geralt would probably have managed to be. Well, she supposed, he’d always had a healthy respect for nice clothes. “Did it – hurt?”

“No,” she said. “It wasn’t pleasant. But no.”

“I see,” he said. “Good to know.”

“Worried about Geralt?” she said.

“Naturally.”

“It’s uncomfortable,” she said. “That’s all. It’ll pass.”

“Let’s hope it passes soon.” He was almost all the way down her back. “I imagine it’s worse for you. Isn’t it?”

Geralt was hampered, by the loss of his signs, but by no means was he rendered powerless. He wasn’t stripped bare, the way she was. She wasn’t entirely sure he understood – that he realised that, although they’d both had something taken from them, his loss wasn’t the same as hers.

She said, “I can handle it.”

“Good grief,” he said. “How far down do these go?”

“Most of the way.”

He reached the small of her back and dropped to his knees to keep going. “Ah,” he said, his face perfectly level with her behind. “Quite a view.”

“Bard,” she said, “if you say one word about my backside my first act when this wears off will be to flay your skin from your body.”

“Understood,” he said, reaching, cautiously, for the buttons. “I shall keep my comments to myself. Although, if I might say, they are all complimentary.”

“I am currently mentally cataloguing all the spells I know to flay a man alive.”

“I’ll be quiet.”

He finished unbuttoning her, in silence and – to his credit – clearly taking care to touch her bottom as little as humanly possible. With a sigh of relief, she pulled the dress down her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

She stood in her corset and petticoat, her arms and shoulders bare, gooseflesh rising on her skin in the chilly room. It wasn’t a position she’d usually like to be in when alone with a man she didn’t fully trust.

But then, she supposed she must trust Jaskier; there was no way she’d have agreed to this otherwise. Somehow she hadn’t noticed that she had come to trust him.

“Goodness,” he said, rising to his feet. “Laces too?”

“Corsets usually have them,” she said, putting her hands upon her hips. She was very glad she didn’t have to look him in the eye for this.

“Shall I –”

“I’d appreciate it.”

“It would be worse,” he said as he began, cheerfully, to unlace her. “I once had a tryst with a lady who was wearing – five layers of petticoats. We had to put them all back on in rather a hurry, and then I managed to tie myself to her stays and her husband was coming up the stairs so we were both panicking –"

There was the faintest creak on the landing outside. The bedroom door opened.

They froze, Jaskier’s fingers stilling on her laces. Geralt was standing in the doorway, staring at them. Yennefer stared back.

He walked like a cat, in spite of his considerable bulk. Bereft of her magic, Yennefer hadn’t sensed him approaching at all. The look on his face was utterly inscrutable. She hadn’t the slightest idea what to say and evidently Jaskier didn’t either.

At some length, Geralt said, “what are you… doing?”

“I’m undressing your lover,” said Jaskier. “Why, what does it look like I’m doing?”

Geralt said nothing at all. There was no change to his facial expression. Turning upon his heel, he walked back down the stairs.

Jaskier resumed unlacing her corset. “Do you suppose he understand that was a joke?”

Yennefer said, “I wouldn’t count on it.”

[beskarhearts]

Hey! Maybe a request where the reader is jealous? Because Din is getting very close with another person? I’ll leave the rest to you :)

You’re literally the best writer out there, have a lovly day<3

Jealousy (Din Djarin x reader)

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!reader

Word Count: 1828

Warnings: cursing, I think that is it

Notes: Ahh, thank you!! That is so kind of you and I hope you have a wonderful day! This is set during Chapter Four, when Din is on Sorgon. I hope you like this! I had a fun time writing this out and being able to have some fun with it. 

If you want to sent in a request, go ahead and do so right here!

______________________

You liked Omera.

It seemed impossible to not like her.  She was kind and extraordinarily patient, not only with the children and the people in the village but with you, Din, and the child as well. She also seemed to be a natural leader among the farm in Sorgan. And she was surprisingly handy with a blaster, which you and Din were very appreciative of considering the rest of the of the people in the village were less qualified for the tasks to come. Not to mention that on top of all of that, she was beautiful with pretty hair and nice eyes. The kind you imagine would be easy for a man to fall for.

Even a man like Din Djarin. 

And there was where your only problem with Omera lied. It was petty and ridiculous and childish, but you couldn’t help but want to scowl whenever you saw the two of them together. You couldn’t even see Din’s face but you could sense the heart eyes he gave her whenever they were with each other. And was it really necessary he stand that close to her when he was working with her on firing a blaster? Not to mention the way they both seemed to just naturally gravitate towards each other, even though they had only met just a mere handful of days ago. It took you what felt like ages to get through Din’s stoic exterior but Omera seemed to be doing that job with ease.

It was silly. You knew that. You had known Din for long enough to consider him your friend, a thought which Din reciprocated. You had somehow been dragged along with him once he rescued the Child, traveling through the galaxy with the two. You guess at this point you were also work partners of sorts. You both took care of the kid and protected him, you knew your way around the ship, and he tried his best to provide safety for the two of you. You both had a rhythm and it worked incredibly well. It was the kind of dynamic you didn’t want to mess up, especially with stupid things like ‘oh, hey Din. Did I mention I am practically head over heels for you?’

So, instead of confessing any deep harbored secrets that you buried within yourself, you just bit your tongue and narrowed your eyes as you continued to watch Din and Omera. Right now, you instead tried to not watch Din and Omera show everybody how to use a blaster, working together like some power couple. Instead you sat with Cara and took a break, both of you sipping away at spotchkas as you avoided the sight of the two training people. And you were content with doing that. You liked Cara and had gotten pretty close with her having spent lots of time with her recently (mostly to avoid Din at all costs but also because she seemed to be a well-adjusted, strong individual.)

“You know, jealously isn’t a good color on you.” Cara teased, breaking you from your train of thought.

You hadn’t even realized you had been staring until she had broken the silence and you whipped your head away from the pair, giving Dune a big scowl which only caused her to chuckle. “I am not jealous.”

“Oh, so you are just giving that nice, lil’ widow that look for fun?” Cara retorted, raising an eyebrow at you knowingly. You had only known this woman for a few days, but she was good at reading people. Too good.

“I like Omera.” you retorted, hoping your voice didn’t sound as strained and foreign to her eyes as they did to yours.

“I believe that. But I don’t think you like that that Mandalorian over there also seems fond of the single hot mom of the farm.” 

“Gee, sounds like you are interested.” You were hoping the joke would turn the conversation to her but she just shrugged. 

“Not my type.” She paused and gave you a small grin before continuing, “What’s your type?”

“Stop.” You warned, giving her what you hoped to be an intimidating look but you knew she saw your flushed cheeks by the way her grin continued to grow.

“Let me guess. Lot’s of metal, no sense of humor, flair for dramatics, handy with a blaster-”

“Alright, alright. Shut up!” You interrupted and she just let out a bout of laughter. You took a big gulp of spotchka, wanting to bury yourself in a whole. You were so consumed by embarrassment that you hadn’t even noticed Din walking up to you. You didn’t look up until his large frame stood in front of the chair you were sat in.

“What is going on over here?” Din asked, a hint of curiosity in his tone.

“Oh, just boy talk.” Cara gave you a teasing look as her eyes landed on yours. You squinted at her, hoping you were able to properly convey how frustrated you were with her in the moment.

“Boy talk?” Din asked incredulously. He knew you well enough to know you didn’t want to spend your time on conversations like ‘boy talk’.

“Well, I’m not quite so fond of boys. But your girl here is.” Cara gave a quirked smile as she rose from her seat. “Speaking of, I’m going to go say hello to this nice lady over here.” She gestured her head to a woman who was kneeled in the middle of the crop and had continually been giving Cara small smiles throughout the day.  The woman walked away, but not before giving you one last smile and a nod of the head.

Din took her spot on the seat, sitting down and looking over at you. You desperately tried to avoid his gaze, looking out into the farm only for your line of sight to land on Omera. Maker, you are pathetic. 

“You are avoiding me.”

You couldn’t help the way you froze a little, your hand that held the bottle clutching onto it tighter. You had been avoiding him. But you couldn’t admit that because then he would want to know why and you were pretty sure you had endured enough humiliation from Cara alone. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Din let out a sigh. He wasn’t dumb. He could tell how you were purposely not looking in his direction. How every time he tried to make his way to talk to you, you would suddenly disappear or be very preoccupied. How whenever he made his way into the hut you both shared, you would somehow always be asleep when he was present. “So you just haven’t been speaking to me because you don’t want to?”

You felt your heart drop at the tone of Din’s voice. He was a strong, tough man who didn’t often show his emotions. But you could sense a bit of hurt in his voice and felt awful. He was one of your only friends and you might of been his oldest friend, and you had been ignoring him because of your stubbornness and selfishness. But even upon this realization, you still had the pit in your stomach that had been persistent for days now and you couldn’t help the next thing that came out of your mouth. “Maybe you’ve just been too busy with Omera.”

You clamped your eyes shut once you realized you had said what you were thinking out loud. You almost hid your face in your hands but you fought back the urge and instead looked at him squarely, trying to show that you weren’t bothered. Din looked back, his visor peering at you with such intense focus that it made you uneasy. “Omera?” 

You let out a small grunt. “Yes, Omera. The woman who has practically been stuck on your hip.”

Din’s helmet just tilted slighted. “She has been helpful.”

“Helpful is what we’re calling this?” Din didn’t responded, only tilting his helmet even more to express his confusion. You let out a sigh and rolled your eyes. “C’mon, Mando. She is a pretty, single woman who is strong and competent and keeps giving your damn googly eyes.”

“What are you talking about?” Din asked.

You couldn’t tell if he was acting stupid or if he was just trying to drive you nuts, but he seemed to be doing both with success. “You like her! She likes you. It is so obvious.” 

Din started to shake his head and you felt yourself taken aback when a chuckle began to pass his lips. He calmly leaned back into his chair, his relaxed form contrasting greatly with your pinched up body. “Omera is a nice woman. A friend.”

“A friend?” You lamely asked, looking at him with a skeptical expression.

Din looked back at you and leaned forward. “I don’t like Omera.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.” You muttered.

“Why are you bothered by it?” Din asked and you leaned back, narrowing your eyes.

“Bothered by what?”

“By the thought that I could be attracted to Omera.” Din calmly said.

Oh yes, you definitely wanted to disappear now. You fumbled with your words, feeling your face warm up. “I-I don’t care.”

“Really?”

“Really. Omera seems great.” You didn’t even sound convincing to yourself and Din knew you well enough to know when you were lying. 

“Cyar’ika.” Din called your nickname like he had so many times before. It was Mando’a but he never told you what it meant, which drove you crazy when he first started. But now he used it often enough that you liked it, made your heart warm up in your chest. You didn’t respond but he rose from his seat, looking down at you. “I don’t like Omera.”

You nodded slowly. “Okay. Not that I would care if you did or anything...”

“You wouldn’t?”

He knew you were lying and now he was teasing you. You were sure of it. You just glared at him and rolled your eyes once again. “Shut up, you stupid tin can.”

Din let out another chuckle. “I like seeing you jealous.”

You didn’t have the chance to say anything before he gave you a small nod and walked off, towards the hut you two shared. You sat frozen in your spot and your brain felt like it had turned off. It took you a moment to readjust before you rose from your seat, walking after him. “I’m not jealous!” you called out.

Din froze where he stood and turned to look at you. You finally stopped in front of him, arms crossed in front of your chest and looking up at him defiantly. “I was hoping you were.”

You stood there stunned, looking up at him dumbly. “What does that mean?”

“You know what that means.” Din said before walking away once again.

Instead of rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help the smile that broke out on your face. 

[say-narry]

The Tonight Show

>> Versão em PT-BR

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Sorry, english isn't my first language! Hope you all like!

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"Ladies and gentlemen, let's hear it for our friend and singer Harry Styles and his friend and new Marvel's actress, Y/N Y/LN!" Jimmy raised his arms pointing to the stage entrance and Harry and Y/N entered side by side.

They smiled and waved to the audience, who returned the whistling and clapping.

Harry greeted Jimmy with a brief hug and Y/N did the same, giving kisses.

Jimmy pointed to the two dark armchairs next to his table and Y/N sat down next to Jimmy and Harry next to him.

The whistling and clapping ceased. They were both smiling for the cameras and sure enough, The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon was scoring very high ratings.

"Great to have you here, everybody! " Jimmy started "We've been on this marathon interviewing friends in the business world and you're closing with a bang!" there was some applause "How long have you been friends?"

Y/N and Harry looked at each other and posed as if they were thinking.

"About three years, right?" Y/N looked at his friend, who agreed. "I wasn't so well known yet, I was participating as a co-star in This is Family, Harry was very nice to send invitations to everyone to his show. From that moment on, we started our partnership."

"Very nice that! And you must hear this question a lot..." a chill went through their stomachs, they knew what it was going to be "Nothing ever happened between you?" Jimmy let out a chuckle and their cheeks flushed.

It was more the discomfort of the question than the act that never happened. They were very close friends, nothing more than a tight hug and kisses on the cheek.

On social media, it was clear that Harry was the friend every woman would want to have, and to S/N fans, there was nothing going on between them since she had a few quick flings with Chris Evans, but only one person knew how much Harry was in love with his best friend, ever since he saw her in the sitcom she acted in, it motivated him to give input to the cast. He himself was that person. He wanted to see if the energy she conveyed on the small screen was the same, but it wasn't. It was simply much better. Y/N was Harry's fit, he had known that since they had spoken in person and Harry had already pulled strings to keep her around.

"No, we never had anything." Harry answered.

"Okay!" Jimmy joked making a funny face. "Kidding guys, it's uncomfortable this kind of question, but I think that just like me, your fans also think that you would make a cute couple."

"We see this a lot on twitter, I often take screenshots and send them to Harry, we laugh a lot, but we have a mutual respect. " Y/N tried to close the subject.

"And about your new song, Harry..."

"We are back with our guests, guys, and they agree to play our "hit the target" game!" Jimmy pointed to three dolls with the picture of himself, Y/N and Harry. There were scores written on part of each one's body.

"It's just a game, but we want to test your aim!" Jimmy continued "As you can see, there are points on every part of our body. Whoever manages to get the five arrows with the most points can choose a charity to donate 50 thousand dollars!" Harry and Y/N clapped side by side again "The loser will have to answer a question from our little box." Jimmy waved a dark red cube and his friends agreed.

The game began with Jimmy aiming at the head height of his paper doll. He fired all five plexiglas and accumulated 100 points.

The next player was Y/N, who ended up taking off her heels to make her move firmer, being assisted by Harry, who made the audience gasp for the act of affection when he held her to take off her shoes.

Y/N shot the first one, hitting the heart of her dummy, starting with 300 points. The next two missed, and the last one hit his dummy's forehead, adding another 100 points.

Harry just looked at her amused. She was good at this, sometimes you guys played this at his parties, it was a game that got on his nerves, because he wasn't good at it.

"Come on, Harry!" The host handed the little arrows to Harry and he positioned himself as Y/N did, maybe if he followed her way, he would be able to hit more points.

Big mistake.

The first arrow hit his wrist, starting with ten points. He made a snapping motion of his neck, drawing a few laughs from the audience. Harry shot two more arrows, one of which hit his arm, and the other fell before it hit the dummy.

"I think it's those rings." He complained loudly and took them off, giving them to Y/N who put them on, showing his fingers to the cameras, making a joke to the home audience.

Harry pointed to the heart of his dummy. If he got it right, he wouldn't have to answer the question.

And he shot. The arrow made a turn and unfortunately stopped in his arm, giving him another 50 points.

Harry would have to answer the damn question.

He groaned in despair as Jimmy and Y/N celebrated their victory.

The announcer walked away and picked up the red box and waved it at Harry. Who pouted in disappointment, sure all his fanclubs would be commenting on his cute expression.

"Take a little paper and read it to us, Harry." Jimmy held out the box and Harry put his hand inside, feeling some papers on his fingers.

He moved his hand a little and brushed at a piece of paper. He unfolded it and read.

His breathing had suddenly become heavier. It seemed as if he was out of breath, his fingers holding the small paper trembled.

"Er... Your challenge is: declare yourself to your crush!" The audience let out a few shouts and Y/N, always very expressive, opened her mouth and her eyes widened. Harry denied it with his head, laughing sideways, trying not to show his nervousness.

As close as they were, Harry didn't mention his girlfriends. She followed his fans that were also Harry's fans and sometimes she saw news about him dating some woman, but if he didn't say anything, it could be just his friends and if it was, she wouldn't invade his intimacy, she would wait for him to say something. Nothing had to be heavy in that friendship, she was aware of that, sometimes they would rather spend their time talking about random things like constellations and signs than their boyfriends and that was fine with her.

"Is this really necessary?" Harry asked in a playful tone.

Jimmy laughed and nodded positively.

They had formed a sort of open wheel on the stage.

"Come on, H! You can do it, because that's what I want to know too!" Y/N teased him.

He looked at her, closing his eyes as if she had failed in some secret plan of theirs.

"Okay... The person I like is very special..." He took a breath, playing with the paper in his hand "I won't say the name, but I will tell the situation we lived."

Y/N squatted down next to Jimmy, who hugged him in a friendly way while they listened to Harry.

"We were at a party among friends. We drank a lot, which we never did. It was on our friend's yacht, it was really an exciting day. I remember that we drank so much that this person... vomited a green liquid on my feet." Jimmy made a face of disgust and the audience murmured with disgust as well, Y/N remained static, because she knew this story. She had been there. She had vomited on him, which got a good laugh when she sobered up. "It's disgusting, I almost followed this person, but seeing this person so vulnerable, so sensitive in my arms... It made me see how much she was the perfect person for me, showed me how completely in love I was with her."

Y/N's heart soared, but as an actress who had conquered Hollywood, she made the best expression of curiosity, pretending not to know what it was all about.

"Do you have any idea who it is, Y/N?" Jimmy asked.

"I have no idea, I wish I could use my mind reading powers right now." She joked, referring to her character.

On the other side of the stage, there was an embarrassed Harry. His heart was tight, because he knew his best friend wasn't stupid and hadn't forgotten that day on the boat, when he took care of her, so much so that she slept on his lap and thanked him for it. He knew how spontaneous she was, he was dying for her to run out of Jimmy's side and jump on his lap and kiss him in front of everyone.

On the social networks, there was no other talk. Both of their names were at the top of the world trends topics, and in the news of the famous as well.

Y/N had donated the amount to the institution that cared for homeless people in New York. In a game of scenes, she returned the rings to Harry and didn't look at him, just went along with Jimmy's antics, leaving her friend completely out in the cold.

She didn't want to even think about it. Harry had never given the slightest sign of interest, he had gone out with a woman in the last few days... She was just another friend, no?

Jimmy thanked them both for their presence. They posed for some pictures with the host and the fans in the audience, both of them swallowing dryly and not looking at each other.

Soon the Y/N's accessory called her over and they left. She couldn't look at Harry, couldn't imagine that her favorite teenage singer, her current best friend, was in love with her, a foreigner new to show business.

It had been 15 days since the show had aired. There was still some murmuring on the social networks, Harry and Y/N had come in to check what they were talking about and most had picked up on Harry's words, they had even gotten pictures of them both from the day of the party on the yacht. It was clear from the whole thing.

But they hadn't exchanged a word, their friendship was shaken and Y/N couldn't stand it anymore.

On her day off in London, she took a coat since it was autumn and considerably cold in the late afternoon. She had always been a person who liked to dot the i's and cross the t's. Why was she running away this time? It was Harry there. It was Harry declaring that he was in love with her. What was the problem? She had been in love with him since she was a teenager, the Hollywood world was attractive and fantastic, but to whom could she be sincere, be herself, be the Y/N who left Brazil in search of opportunity and conquered the world? Except for her family, Harry was the only person fit for the job. Him. Only him.

Harry lived a few blocks away, she closed the apartment door and left the condo, there were no paparazzi, not that she had seen.

She pulled up her black hoodie and put her hair over her face, walking quickly through the cold streets of the chic neighborhood.

Braving some closed pedestrian signals, she arrived after a few minutes at the brown stone wall and black gate.

She had the key, they were so close at that point. They trusted each other.

Entering and closing it quickly, she saw some lights on. Y/N hadn't wondered if Harry was accompanied by someone else, his producers or his family.

Her finger slid between the detailed gold knob and opened the door, the wind and the smell of Harry's perfume went straight to her nostrils, filling her lungs.

She stepped inside and took a deep breath. Her heart seemed to throb close to her throat, and as cold as it was, she was sweating.

"Harry?" She called out. "H?"

No sound, no "I'm here!" The alarms hadn't gone off, he could be in the shower or in the studio composing something.

"Harry! It's Y/N, we need to talk!" She said a little louder "If you're with someone, I'm leaving..."

She walked to the center of the huge decorated room, there were some golden items, it was Harry's face. Y/N smiled as she touched a beautiful vase on the table. She couldn't lose him. She loved him, loved his way, his voice, his everything.

"Y/N." She heard Harry's husky voice, behind her between two sliding doors. It was his home office.

Harry was wearing a robe, his face had a sad, tired expression. His hair was not as she was used to seeing it. It was just the way it was. His nose was red, as if he had just cried.

That was it.

"Hazza!" Y/n murmured, walking slowly over to him, who bowed his head in shame.

"What was it?" Without denying his Aquarius side, Harry answered short.

The woman took a breath of air, until she walked more quickly in front of her best friend, stretching her hands until she held his face and joined their lips.

If you could see their stomachs, it would be something similar to fireworks in Copacabana on New Year's Eve.

Harry pushed the doors aside and took his best friend by the waist, pressing her against him.

How much he had dreamed of this. How much he wished it would happen. Their lips were warm, their tongues met, caressing each other, the sighs were audible, Harry couldn't help but smile at that.

"Forgive me." Y/N pulled away minimally whimpering, stroking between his best friend's jaw and neck. "I'm not afraid when I'm the superhero, but in real life... I'm a coward."

Harry shook his head negatively.

"I shouldn't have exposed us like that." Harry passed his hand over his girl's face "But I had to tell the truth."

Y/N agreed, putting her arms around her best friend's neck, hugging him tightly.

"I'm glad you came." Harry murmured. "I couldn't stand another day without talking to you."

"Not anymore, babe. I'm yours from now on."

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

Any suggestions?

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

To @leeroysdancer ;)

[theglowyscorpio]

all set | eren x reader

a/n: this is a story in the making, currently available at AO3 and Wattpad. If you like it, please don't hesitate to give me some kudos, leave a comment or maybe follow me on my social media! <3 Any feedback is highly appreciated since I'm just getting started!

pairing: eren yeager x female reader

tags: mature content, alternate universe (modern setting), college/university, recreational drug use, implied sexual content, M/F, F/F, the author is not religious lmao

word count: 4.3k

current chapters: 2/?

playlist: this one was made with a particular playlist in mind. they are really great songs that help to convey this chapter, so I hope you have a time to check them out! :)

a. slomosa - kevin b. upsahl - drugs c. rosenfeld - like u d. kaiba - overdose e. lil kapow - tinman f. bodega - how did this happen!?

***

all set

I lost count of how many parties I went to this week. There was one at Shina, another at... Sasha's. Wait, was it? Or Ymir's? Honestly, both their houses look fairly similar and we always see the same faces over and over again, regardless of where we are getting wasted. Definitely two at my house. The timeline is blurry at this point. If my liver could talk, it would spit out "Screw you, Eren." and I wouldn't be able to disagree.

Classes will start next week so everyone is acting like we're going to stop doing all this for the rest of the semester. That never happens.

I barely enter Reiner's house and the music is already piercing my head. My ears will soon tell me to go screw myself too. The bass was loud. But it was good.

— Hey, finally — Reiner says, giving a hard slap in my back. I can't even get mad at him because he probably didn't mean for it to hurt. Fucking strong bastard.

— Sorry. Lost track of time.

— You know where the things are — he leaves me behind and disappears through the noisy music.

It's hot inside. August has been particularly cruel this year. I'm using a black t-shirt, which is luckily pretty thin, and my black Adidas pants that are somewhat breathable. My hair is in a bun. I will probably be sweating soon, though. Reiner's AC won't do miracles with this amount of people since it is specially packed today. I guess I might see some new faces tonight, huh.

This fact already makes things more interesting.

I walk through the room and then arrive in the kitchen. Connie and Sasha are there.

— Eren!! — I barely open my mouth to talk and Sasha is already giving me whatever weird drink they made. Their drinks sometimes are... unusual, for the lack of a better word. Most of the time they are simply pure shit. They call it scout's fuel, always the same name regardless of what's inside. Maybe that's why my liver hates me so much.

— Thanks — I'm already used to the goddamn gasoline taste — I guess you both want to get us wasted tonight.

— It's our personal mission, so enjoy the fuel — Connie says laughing, raising his plastic cup. I love this duo – who doesn't? – and I can't help but laugh with them, even though it tastes so bad — Everyone is already here, come on — I follow them and find all the familiar faces I've seen all week: Bertholdt, Historia, Ymir, Mikasa, Annie, Armin, Jean, everyone.

The girls look hot, even though I'm used to them. Either way, I avoid hooking up with my friends since the last time didn't work so well. It's better to avoid Mikasa today.

We all sit together while drinking. I light a joint I had already prepared at home and say — Am I crazy or is Reiner's party bigger than usual? —, releasing the smoke a few seconds after. This one is the best grass we could get around our area, I've saved it primarily for today and now I see that might have been a great decision on my part. I'm glancing through the room and looking for some girls, might share this shit with one - or a few - of them later.

— Thank god, I was tired of seeing your ugly faces every fucking time — Jean says. The girls look at him and he rushes to add — I mean, the boys, of course. It's always nice looking at all of you, ladies.

It's not enough to avoid Annie's kick anyway — We can say the same of you, horse face.

Reiner arrives at the perfect time and explains — Since the new semester starts Monday, news about today traveled fast and we got a lot more company than usual.

— Do you know all of them, Reiner? — Historia asks — I've talked to a bunch of them tonight and there are people from all over the campus and from all years as well — Historia always looks pretty, her blonde hair shining even in the low light of the party. Guys make a line to talk to her at all parties so there's no surprise that she's already familiarized with the whole scenario. I wonder what Ymir thinks of it. Probably followed her during this little field trip.

— Hell, no — he grabs the joint of my hand and sucks deeply — I know some of them and some are Bertholdt's friends but there are some random people.

— I bet Reiner knows a lot of the girls — I take my joint back from his fingers — I assume they aren't Bertholdt's friends, though — and grin.

— Hey, I don't see you with any new company either, dude — Bertholdt tries to grab my weed as well, but I avoid his advances. He instead grabs my cup and drinks all of it, leaving me empty. He makes a funny face at the taste. Suit yourself, man, I think to myself, laughing on the inside.

— Yeah, but I'll work on it in a sec — I tease him knowing that he can't handle much of Sasha and Connie's fuel. He always knocks out before everyone. I hope he realizes he needs to stay awake to try anything with Annie. Someday. He simply never gets there.

Hange arrives almost falling over Ymir and spilling her drink on the floor in the process — I think we should all make a toast and make this last party a wild ride!!! — her yelling stabbing us louder than the music.

— Bitch, you are this fucking drunk already? — Ymir says to her, holding Hange's weight on her back — What the hell did the gasoline duo do to you?

— Okay okay, enough with the questions, let me fill your cups because this is the night! — Sasha says, just pouring all that mystery liquid that soon will go straight to our heads — Also, Reiner, where's the food?

We raise our plastic cups and Connie yells — To the new semester! — and we drink, feeling the immediate burn on our throats. It's hard being a scout.

— I need to get laid today — Jean says as he lays his back on the couch — Gonna arrive for the classes pretty motivated next week — he then rests his left arm at the back pillow, behind Mikasa's head.

— You should start roaming, then — her cold delivery puts Jean's subtle attempt at flirting six feet under the ground, as usual. It was pretty damn quick, but I could notice Mikasa glancing at me and then looking the other way. Yeah, I think I need to start roaming soon, too.

— That sounds great, then let's do that!!! — Hange grabs Jean by the arm and they disappear amongst the crowd.

— When all this fun ends, I'll be the one who will probably have to take him home after he gets slapped by some girls — Armin and Jean live with me so we normally go back together. Armin is the responsible one between us, which is not exactly hard considering how Jean and I are — Gonna at least drink some beer before that happens.

— I'll go with you, this drink sucks — Annie says, finishing the drink anyway and following him. We always drink the last drop of it, we never learn.

The girls went dancing, the music was exceptionally good today. A lot of bands I already liked plus some I have never heard before. I need to remember to ask Reiner for this playlist later. Connie was already surrounded by a different group, everyone likes to talk to him. He is popular. The rest dispersed as well and I could hear Hange's screams far away. This is going to be a night for her, indeed.

I start walking around, meeting a lot of people from my classes and others from the campus in general. I talk to all of them and drink a lot in the process, which feeds my need for nicotine every time. I grab my pack of cigarettes and while smoking, I see Levi.

— I must be dreaming — I say, letting the smoke leave my lips with a smile. It reaches him and looks at me with a deadly expression. He is smoking as well, but he only admits one specific brand of cigarettes and hates all the others. Levi usually doesn't show up at these "brat" parties, as he likes to say, since he's a few years older than us. I normally see him at Shina's, which is a popular club slash bar near our university. He's the owner so we all met him there, after going so many times. Shina has the best parties and the best drinks of all the clubs near us. And it couldn't be any other way, since Levi is a perfectionist. There's also a small stage there, where indie bands perform from time to time. My band does some gigs there sometimes.

— Hey — he replies, as cold as ever. He's Mikasa's cousin, so they have the same expressions and hard-to-approach vibe — Already high, I see.

— Always. In fact, today I hope to be higher than usual. What miracle brings you here?

— Some people from the staff decided to come here today so there are fewer brats to piss me off — he drinks what's probably a high priced whiskey and continues — and there's a new girl at the club so we have been showing her the area for a few weeks now.

— There's a lot of new girls here today — although I know Levi doesn't give a crap.

— So? — yeah, he doesn't.

Levi is a pretty successful business owner and even I have to admit that he's hot – is not only common knowledge but a mutual agreement between everyone –, so girls are always trying to get him, but he doesn't screw most of them. He doesn't fuck brats, period. He says he doesn't have the patience. That makes the girls even more desperate. He has the highest standards of every guy I know. When he was still in university – the same we all go –, he screwed not only the hottest girls but also the professors - which went after him and not the other way around. At least that's what I've heard. I think Levi never had to actively look for any girl, to be honest.

I can only laugh at his reply. That's just so him.

— If you want more stuff than what's already in your system, Floch is over there.

— I want, actually. I was going to look for him — I see Floch's red hair among some folks. Floch is usually as busy as Connie but with less than half of the charisma.

He finishes his cigarette, blowing its last white smoke into the air, and we both hear a loud HELL YEAH!! coming from all the other way across the room — Tsk, is that Hange?

— Pfft, it was before, I think it's Sasha now — he doesn't laugh at my reply. He never does. I think hell would freeze while heaven catches on fire.

I think about the music again. It's so good today, what the hell — Hey Levi, don't you think this playlist is too high quality for a Reiner party? I don't get it, his music taste is always pure trash.

— That's from our new girl — he drinks the last drops of his whiskey and starts to leave — You might find her around here — he then suddenly stops and looks at me — Don't get your hopes up, though.

I am not able to ask what he meant by that because he leaves too quickly. Time to look for Floch.

— Hey, Flo-

— Here.

— You didn't even let me finish.

— I know what you want. You are not in the mood for cocaine so you want MD instead, blah-blah-blah-blah. Is that kind of night — he pauses for mere seconds — Am I wrong, Eren?

— Nope, right as usual — Floch is the main person you go to when you need drugs. I mean, good drugs. He looks like your standard rich boy – which he is, by the way – that can do no wrong, but you can get the best stuff from him. I've always found this funny. The weed I have today was his work. He knows my taste well.

Reiner's frat house is huge, so there's plenty of room to walk. I'm approached by a bunch of girls on the way but for some reason, none of them piques my interest. I am pretty set on going after something new today and I have no problem getting laid. It happened every single day this week and it truly happens anytime I want. Which, okay, boosts my ego a little bit. Maybe a lot. I might even have hurt some girls in the process. I was never slapped though, unlike Jean. So that's a win in my book.

I see a few of my friends again, mainly Historia and Reiner, and they are talking to a girl I've never seen before.

She has long black hair and short messy bangs, the kind that goes a little above the eyebrows. I didn't know black hair was my thing until now. Her face has the perfect features, at least for me. She's wearing a sleeveless white top that is so tight that hugs her figure perfectly and makes her breasts look amazing. That type of top that shows the girl's side boob, and I'm a total sucker for those. It is also short so you can see a bit of her waist. And I don't even have to see her ass because I already know it is probably too damn good. Her light blue ripped jeans are cool as well and she has black sneakers. I like her style. She has a bunch of tattoos - a lot on her right arm, one on her left hand, and probably some that I couldn't see because they were behind her clothes. I intended to, though.

Fuck, she's hot.

Historia looks mesmerized talking to her, which is a very privileged view from where I stand because, as I've already said before, she is also beautiful. But she isn't exactly hot. This girl is. Way too much. Oh, and Reiner is there too. Whatever.

I can see a lot of guys want to approach her but none of them do. I went for it. Wasn't this night supposed to be wild?

— Hey, Eren! Guess what, Y/N is the new DJ at Shina! I was telling her how we go there all the time.

— Hi, Eren, nice to meet you — she says, with that kind of smile that people who know they are hot make. I do that too.

— Hey, Y/N — I say. And as I told you seconds before, I'm good with that type of smile as well so that's what she gets — Levi told me he came with the staff and a new girl, so I suppose that's you.

— Yeah, I'll start there next week.

— I talked to him about the party's playlist because I knew it couldn't be Reiner's.

— Yeah, it's Y/N's. She prepared it for the party when I invited the guys from Shina yesterday. We were in the same high school. — Reiner says that looking at me with a face that shows "See that, dickhead? I've known her for some years now".

— It's pretty good! I can't wait for the next party at Shina's to see your set! — Historia was always an angel.

REINER, WHERE'S THE REST OF THE ICE, MAN??, someone screamed far away.

— Shit. Catch up with you later, Y/N.

Too bad, huh, Reiner? He gives me a look that I can't quite figure out what it is, but I know for sure it wasn't a look of support. In the fucking slightest.

— I think Ymir is calling me as well, sorry!! — It was painfully obvious that Ymir wanted to make out with Historia for some time now. They never did. I think only Historia hasn't realized yet that Ymir is thirsty for her for god knows how long.

After Historia left, there was only me and her — So, by any chance, do you go to the same university as us? You look our age but Levi said you are new here — I tried asking this without looking at her body, but looking at her face was even worse. Her eyes were piercing me in the best way possible.

— I'm not exactly new, I'm from the same uni as you guys, but I took a gap year — she takes a sip of her drink — You probably never met me but I'm in the same year as you all are now.

Since Reiner knew her from high school, he also knew she was at the same university all along and never told any of the guys. Smart fucker.

— So that makes you a year older than me — I smirk at her.

— I guess it does — she smirks back as she lights up a cigarette and blows the smoke at me.

Ok, looking good so far.

I'm pretty high at this point, the MD and the music are making me horny, so I don't even bother to pretend that I'm not looking at her body. I'm looking at everything.

— You took something, didn't you?

— Do you want some? I can show you later where to get the best stuff. Anything you are in the mood for.

— I'm all set — she shows me her tongue and I see the acid. The view makes my own tongue feel lonely, maybe I should use it to steal that from her mouth. I hope she's horny as well.

We talk a lot about music since it's something that we both enjoy. She's passionate about it, I can tell. She asks about my band with true interest. Doesn't sound like small talk. She touches her hair and it makes me want to stuff my face in it. She has the smile that makes you want more. Her voice has the same effect.

The loud music allows us to talk near each other's ears. I hope she moans as loud as her playlist. The girls usually love my hair for some reason, either if it's in a messy bun as it is right now or if it's loose. They all love my green eyes too. She can see all that with somewhat detail since we are so close, even though it is a little dark here. If I take you to a room you can see me better, I almost blurb it out. I can see her too and that kills me.

She looks receptive to me but normally at this point I would be already hooking up with the girl. This time it isn't happening. I never have to work so much. I think I understand why the other guys didn't approach her before. She's a little intimidating to talk to, and that comes naturally to her – it doesn't seem to be on purpose. I flirt with her the way I normally do but she is hard to get, she hits every ball I throw. I remember what Levi said before. Oh, right.

But I'm vibing way too much at this point, I think if I touch any part of her I'll get hard immediately.

— This gap year you've mentioned... Did you go anywhere specific?

— I know it will sound cliché, but I went to Europe.

— Where in Europe?

— Everywhere — she says — I went down — the corner of her lips forming a smile  — And up. Everywhere. — and I can swear she sounds flirtatious as hell. I want to bite her lip.

— That sounds... Awesome. — I think she wants to bite me too, or at least I hope she does — Was there any particular reason to leave? If that's not too much to ask.

— Hm, I was kinda... — she stops to think for a few seconds as she holds her hair up and makes a ponytail, looking at the ground, the cigarette glued to her now closed lips. Her neck became exposed, it looks soft as hell and I can't wait to bruise it. She releases the smoke, that flows into the room, and looks deep into my eyes, as deep as I want to be inside her right now — ...stressed.

I reach my limit at this point.

— I can help you with the stress if you want.

— Really? — she's looking at me with the same teasing look and I'm doing the same, so we both know that's not a question I have to answer. Her tongue quickly passes through her top lip, her mouth forming a little wet smile — I don't think I need any help though.

I threw the ball and she hit a home run. My team was out.

I was not expecting that.

We hear some of the guys from Shina calling for her — Oh, they are calling me — Y/N looks at me again and says — See you around, Eren — giving me the same fucking grin I wanted to bite before.

She walks away and I see that her ass is, as I suspected from the very beginning, too damn good.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

After this, some time has passed. I look at the clock. Yeah, maybe a lot. I couldn't tell before because I'm drunk and drugged. I see most of my friends, all fucking wasted. Armin is holding up pretty well, Bertholdt's is knocked down for God knows how long, Mikasa probably smoked way too much weed (who am I to judge?) and looks dead on the couch. I don't see Ymir, Historia nor Reiner - there are too many people in this house to keep count. Sasha's eating something in the kitchen, I can't see what it is, but certainly, she got hungrier than normal after smoking some pot Connie gave her. Connie always holds his drinks well, he's still talking to a lot of people. I pass in front of one of the bathrooms and Hange is there, getting everything out of her system. Oh, and Ymir. There she is, holding Hange's hair, looking as pissed as ever. Levi probably went home hours ago. Jean is making out with some chick, he's going to score tonight. To be fair, he always does, but never with Mikasa.

I saw a lot of pretty girls today and I went for none of them. They tried and I shut them down, even the ones I normally fuck. There's someone I want to taste tonight and she's nowhere to be found. The guys from Shina are missing too, so I know I won't see her today anymore. Damn.

I'm not pissed at her but I'm pissed at the situation.

— Armin, I think I'm going to take off, are you coming?

— Yeah, I'm already pretty tired — he gets up — Jean's probably going to stay here.

— Yep. Probably. — Am I pissed that Jean's getting laid? Even though I could have as well? With someone else, at least? My mood feels off.

— I'm going with you too, I've lost count of how many assholes I had to shut down today. I think I even punched a few — I don't have to look to know that's Annie speaking — You were right, Eren, is it especially crowded today. In the shittiest way possible.

— Then let's go.

— Wait, I need to get my bag first, I left it in Reiner's room.

— I can get that for you, wait up.

— It's a black one. Small.

I sign a thumbs up for her and climb the stairs. I am hundred percent sure I'm going to see someone fucking there but that's the usual. I'm pretty sure I've already seen some people screwing in the corner of the living room minutes before. No one cares.

I open the door and see Y/N in her underwear, putting her white top back on. She does indeed have other tattoos.

— Hey there! — she says smiling, as she also puts her jeans back up, making little jumps so they pass through her ass. Her hair is not in a ponytail anymore.

I say hi in a confusing way.

— I came here to get my friend's bag — I look around for milliseconds like I don't know where the hell I am until I see Reiner lying - clearly naked - under his sheets. Can't be anyone else, with that bleached hair and huge biceps.

What? Ahn?

Hey... Wait a second.

Historia? Clearly naked as well? What. The. Hell. I guess she's not exactly the angel I thought she was?

They are sort of awake, sort of sleeping, kinda like on a different planet. You know, the type of thing that happens after a really strong fuck? That sort. They look exhausted. They look destroyed. And not in a bad way. AT ALL.

— Oh, I saw a bag before. Here you go — she gives me Annie's bag. She's all dressed now. She notices my confusion, I'm too high to act any other way — I've told you I don't need any help — her eyes piercing mine for the hundredth time tonight. Her smile hurts now. Ouch.

She grabs her sneakers and walks towards me and the door:

— I'm all set.

She leaves the room as I hold Annie's bag.

Yeah. I was not expecting that.

***

Thanks for reading (if there's even anyone here lmao). Chapter 2 will be uploaded later but it can be read now at AO3 or Wattpad.

[stardust-walker]

High Hopes

word count: 3979

Chapters: 1

A week went by in the blink of an eye. It felt like it had dragged on at the same time. The group they were with was larger than Dove had expected it to be. There were about 40 of them, give or take a few. Dove hated it. Sure, some of the people were nice but some of them were people that she generally tried to avoid when not somewhere like where she worked...or used to work, rather. Still, it wasn't that she minded the people they were around at all as long as they contributed and minded their business.

She was used to seeing people like Merle Dixon, methed out of their minds and in for a 72 hour psych eval, strolling out the door after they had kicked it out of their system only to come back a few weeks later most times. Dove was sure she actually had seen Merle like that before but she wasn't about to mention that to him.

"How's your cheek feeling," Carol broke the silence as the two of them walked down to the water, each of them carrying a load of laundry in their arms.

"It's fine. Just stings a little when I touch it is all," Dove cleared her throat. She'd been trying not to think about how the bruise was probably fading, most likely an ugly yellow color by now. "I could ask you the same thing." She hadn't meant it to come out as mean as it did but she noticed the older woman almost flinch at the harshness of her words. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have said that." Dove shook her head and gripped the load of laundry she was holding a little tighter.

Carol held her head a up a little higher as she fell into step next to the younger woman. "You're right. You shouldn't have." Dove didn't know what to say. There was probably nothing she could say, after all. She'd made the decision on her own to set up her tent a short distance away from her sister and brother-in-law. If she'd been closer, it definitely would have caused a scene if it were more accessible for her to run to her sister's aid. It had happened before and it would probably happen again.

"Listen, I'm sorry. I guess I'm just a little..."

"Tense. We all are." Carol shook her head as they stepped through the trees into the small clearing where a small group of other women sat, all doing the same thing they were about to do.

"This is just fucking prehistoric," Dove snorted and shook her head. They had talked about this when more people started filtering in. They definitely had to be careful about other people coming into camp. Some of them could be dangerous. Uncertain times meant that people might come a little more unhinged than they might normally. Most of the other women seemed alright, for the most part. Jacqui was kind, definitely opinionated and observant. Amy and her sister Andrea kept mostly to themselves but seemed pretty nice for the most part. Carol seemed to have really clicked with Lori and Dove found herself not minding the other woman. She'd heard bits and pieces about her husband, Rick, and it made her heart break for Lori and Carl.

Dove had kept her distance from most of the men. Dale seemed pretty nosey, especially when it came to matters like the bruise on her face when he'd first shown up to the camp with Amy and Andrea. Shane had taken over as leader right away. No one seemed to want to question a cop's authority even in what might be the end of the world. Glenn was sweet; she was pretty sure he'd delivered her a pizza a few times when she was late night cramming for college but she didn't want to ask. Even though she didn't want to be around Merle, or his brother by extension, she didn't mind them coming around in the group. They were contributing to feeding the group, after all. Dove was pretty sure they were holding out on some of their hunt, but could she really blame them? Ed had almost lost his mind over Carol offering Lori some of his food on the highway.

In spite of their faults, the Dixons had actually managed to enlighten the people around the campfire on the first night they'd joined them. "Shoot em. Right in the damn head. One of them comes at you, you take the fucking shot. Ain't nobody there anymore." The tone of the younger Dixon had actually made Dove shudder. He was dead serious, there was no doubt about that. Then Merle had called him a fucking buzzkill.

It wasn't hard to notice their sibling dynamic wasn't exactly the healthiest. Maybe her relationship with Carol wasn't the healthiest either. She was a therapist, not a god. "Time to put the mask on," Dove mumbled, causing Carol to let out a quiet laugh as Amy turned and waved at them.

"Hey guys! We thought you were about to ditch out on laundry duty," Amy beamed at them.

"And miss out on some quiet time? Wouldn't miss it for the world," Carol replied brightly as she walked up and sat her and Ed's basket of laundry between her and Jacqui. Damn, she's good at this.

"I mean, I wish it was more like sitting in a laundry mat relaxing instead of manual labor, but I can't complain. I'd rather be doing this than sitting up there debating about what's more important to grab on a run to the city." Dove rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner and Jacqui laughed.

"Were they arguing about what's more important, toilet paper or batteries for the flashlights again?" Jacqui raised an eyebrow and Dove nodded.

"Please, tell me you'll talk some sense into these men on the run if they ever let anyone else go. I mean hell, grab both. I'd say they're both priorities. The campfire is nice every night but once it gets dark? Hell, it's like we walked into fucking Deliverance territory out here." Dove finished by whistling a part of 'Dueling Banjos'. Carol swatted at her with one of her shirts as she went to dip it in the water.

"You stop that." Carol shook her head in an attempt to seem disapproving, but she let out a quiet laugh. Andrea and Amy were laughing next to Dove.

"You think this was what people did when they had to wash clothes together before washing machines and stuff," Amy broke the silence a few minutes later.

Dove wiped the back of her hand across her forehead and moved her hair out of her field of vision. "You mean sweat to death?"

"Give themselves back problems?" Jacqui added before she nodded at the other women. "Probably."

"Probably complained about their husbands too," Andrea added with a subtle look towards Carol. Dove straightened up, ready to say something to the other woman about minding her business when a branch cracked in the woods behind them.

Everyone straightened up at this and Dove reached for the knife she had set next to her basket of laundry on reflex. She overextended herself, not realizing how far it was from her in her panicked state and fell to her knees, fingers closed around the handle of the knife as two figures stepped out from the trees.

Jacqui let out an annoyed sounding sigh as she lowered her own weapon, not bothering to hide the fact she rolled her eyes. Andrea scowled at the two men as Amy attempted to look composed even though Dove was sure she'd heard her panic too.

Carol looked the most shaken up of all of them and Dove couldn't blame her for that. It was what her home had created for her. Instant panic at the thought of the person stepping into their conversation being Ed.

Dove stood up slowly, throwing her knife back into the dirt as she brushed her knees off. "Jesus Christ, Merle. You're lucky none of us had a gun. Would've blown your head off," She grumbled as she turned her back to the older man, heart still racing at the potential of one of those walkers coming out of the woods at them.

"Oh do you think one of you would have, Birdie?" Merle didn't bother to hide his amusement. Dove turned slightly and flipped him off.

"Leave us alone, Merle. Can't you see we're workin' here?"

"Dove..." Carol tugged at her arm and Dove relented, picking up another shirt as she sat half turned towards the woods now.

"Well, shit. We just came to tell you lovely ladies that we hunted squirrel for dinner later. But if you're gonna be ungrateful about it then, shit."

Andrea frowned. Amy tried her best to hide the fact that she was disgusted at the fact that they were having to eat 'little woodland creatures' again. Dove had heard her complaining about it a few nights ago.

"Not being ungrateful, Merle. Just prefer you call me by my name is all," Dove rolled her eyes.

"Oh I'll call your name..." Merle was for sure going to say something that would make Dove want to go for her knife again when Jacqui cut him off.

"Will you be skinning them then? We'll cook them, so long as you do that." Dove shot Jacqui a quick look, trying to convey some kind of thank you without any words.

"I'll do it," a different voice spoke and the two set of sisters turned back to the hunters.

Dove raised an eyebrow slightly. They'd all barely heard Daryl speak since the first night when they were talking about walkers and Chupacabras. He seemed to let Merle do all the talking; or maybe Merle let himself do all the talking.

" Thank you," Carol nodded at him and turned back to the laundry. Ed would be mad if they were gone too long like they were last time.

"Yeah, thanks Daryl." Dove said as the two brothers turned to march back off towards their own campsite. Merle kept walking, the others kept washing their laundry, but Dove didn't miss the fact that Daryl turned slightly and nodded at her in recognition.

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

Dove was always good at keeping herself busy The only way she kept track of days was after she happened to find her planner in her bag as she was looking for clean clothes. That was how she came to realize that three weeks had passed so quickly. How had they been out here for a month at this point? She couldn't imagine how bored the kids around the camp felt and that was when she decided how she would spend the rest of her evening.

Dove sat in one of the folding chairs with a look of concentration on her face. Dark eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed as she glanced up and then back down at her hands again. "Got it," she said so suddenly that Sophia jumped a little in the chair across from her. Carl leaned forward in anticipation as a smug smile appeared on Dove's face. "Got any eights?" She sounded so sure of herself.

"Hm...go fish!" Sophia said brightly after a few seconds.

"Ah hell," Dove grumbled. She didn't miss the sideways look that Carol shot her when she swore. "Alright, Carl. Don't let me down, buddy."

The little boy shrugged, a smile on his face. "Go fish."

"Ah, double hell," Dove almost shouted, much to the amusement of her niece and the little boy.

"Children, that's enough of that," Dale chuckled as he walked past them towards the campfire, "besides I think dinner's ready anyways."

Before Dove could say anything else, the two children jumped to their feet. Sophia following close behind Carl as the two of them ran off to join their mothers near the fire. "Fine! Y'all were a bunch of cheaters anyway," Dove called jokingly after the children and she heard Glenn let out a laugh.

"How can someone cheat at go fish?" Glenn inquired as Dove strolled over behind Dale, who was shaking his head at the younger woman.

"Well, Glenn," Dove sighed as she sat down next to the Asian man, "You can have an eight in your hand and not give it to someone when they call it. Ain't that a good example, Carl?" She turned to look at the boy and waved a finger at him disapprovingly.

Lori ruffled Carl's hair as Glenn let out a quiet laugh. Dale shook his head as he started passing around one of the paper plates that was piled up with meat. "Well, it should be reassuring that fish isn't on the menu for tonight," the older man said which caused Amy to giggle.

"It smells good," Sophia piped up from the spot on Dove's left as the plate got passed to her. Dove shared a look with Carol before her gaze shifted up slightly. Ed didn't eat with the group, but still he lurked there like an albatross around her sister's neck. Carol forced a smile as she handed a piece of the currently unidentified meat to the little girl before passing it on.

It was actually peaceful that night as everyone sat around the fire. It was clear to Dove that most of the men, Shane and the Dixons especially, seemed to still be on high alert. However, the quiet was welcome.

"Ya know, I gotta say. This is probably the best thing I've eaten in almost a month," Shane chuckled as he moved to run a hand through his hair. The group nodded in agreement, a few mumbled 'Thank you's being uttered as everyone gradually finished up their meals.

"Yeah, rabbit is a little more tender than squirrel," Merle Dixon announced loudly as he threw a small bone into the fire.

Sophia let out a little squeak from next to Dove and the dark haired woman moved to put an arm around her niece as Carol brushed Sophia's hair back. "No, no, Soph. I'm sure Merle's just joking." Dove shot a dark look across the fire at the older man. She momentarily thought about jumping over the fire and punching him right in the mouth. The thought would have to be enough for her for today, though. Ed mumbled something from behind Carol, but she was grateful that her sister seemed to ignore it.

"A very mean joke, but I'm sure he's joking," Carol whispered as she pressed a kiss to her young daughter's forehead.

Dove still rubbed the little girl's arm in a comforting manner, her gaze shifted to the other man across the fire from her. Daryl looked miserable as ever but she locked eyes for a split second before he stared back into the fire.

"Yeah, Sophia, I'm sure he just cooked up Daryl's Chupacabra," Morales smirked from beside his wife. The laughter wasn't so quiet now as almost everyone around the fire struggled for a moment to hold in their laughter before Merle let out a loud, obnoxious laugh. Knee slap right along with it.

"You hear that, baby brother? You'd know all about that Mexican goat sucker, wouldn't you," Merle shoved Daryl's arm roughly.

Sophia shifted uncomfortably in her mother's arms, but a small smile was on her face. Lori rolled her eyes disapprovingly. "Are we really going to bring that up again? You gave the kids nightmares with that story..."

"Mom," Carl hissed through gritted teeth, "I didn't have nightmares, I swear." There were scattered chuckles around the fire this time. Shane reached over and ruffled the young boys hair, though this only caused the scowl to deepen on Carl's face.

"Yeah, I don't know why y'all try to make fun of that story, either. There's a lot scarier things out there than a Chupacabra," Dove announced to the fire. She couldn't stop the smirk that crept onto her face when most of the attention shifted to her.

"Dove's right. The walkers..." Amy frowned and leaned closer to her older sister.

Dove shook her head quickly, a hand ran through her dark hair. "Nah, I don't mean the walkers. I mean the wendigos," she stated matter-of-factly, "which, hell, might mean the walkers for all we know."

Ed snorted from behind her, "You sure you were workin' in that psych ward and not a patient there? I mean, you were not around enough to be in the loony bin," Ed kicked at the dirt by his feet. 

Dove sneered at her brother-in-law, "You know what..."

"Yeah I thought you were a psych doctor, not a psycho doctor," Merle snickered as he leaned forward in his chair.

"You know what, to you too, Merle Dixon," Dove turned again, a finger pointed at the older man. "I wouldn't make fun of things that you don't have knowledge of! The mind is a powerful thing. Chupacabras might not have been real once, but they might as well be now. There were these monks who practiced this super deep thought...meditation shit, you know? People said that if they focused hard enough on something in their heads, they could make it real. I mean that's the basics of it, but if enough people believed in it, they could make it real." Dove noticed now that most of the attention was shifting from her to Merle. Daryl, however, seemed to have finally moved his focus from the fire right to her.

"Sounds like psycho bullshit to me," Merle leaned back in the folding chair he was sat on, arms folded across his chest.

"Call it psycho bullshit all you want," Dove shrugged her shoulders, "but wendigos seem pretty damn real to me right about now." After a few moments of silence, it was Carl who spoke up.

"What's a wendigo," the quiet little voice spoke up from where he was perched at his mother's feet. Carol narrowed her eyes at her sister, their eyes locked for a moment before Dove looked away. There was movement next to her as Carol stood up, taking Sophia with her. "Thanks for the food. Night. C'mon, Sophia," Carol's voice was quiet as she placed a hand on Dove's shoulder for a moment before moving to usher the young girl off to bed. Dove thought she heard Sophia say something in protest but she didn't come back to the fire.

Dove cleared her throat and shook her head. "Well, Carl. I'll tell you." Dove looked at her feet for a moment before she turned her attention to the little boy, a reassuring smile on her face. She was going to tell this story now, even if just to spite Merle Dixon and Ed Peletier. "You see, back in the olden days, they used to tell stories to people in order to keep them from doing bad things." That was probably the easiest way to explain that to people, especially with children present. "There were these people called the Algonquians," Dove started.

"This is some of that featherhead bullshit. I should've known," Merle snarked.

"No one's making you listen, son," Dale said in a tone that was probably meant to be warning.

"If you don't want to hear the story, why don't you just wander off back to your tent and hope the Chupacabra doesn't get you," Jacqui piped up from the right side of Dale.

"Go on, Sawyer. I wanna hear the rest of it," a quiet voice spoke up. Maybe it was the fact that Jim, who barely spoke, actually said something to her that made her want to continue.

Dove narrowed her eyes slightly, "Anyways, yes they were a Native American tribe. Someplaces in Canada too, I think. There was this story about this trapper from Alberta, I think his name was...Swift something. His family was starving and one of his kids ended up dead."

"What happened to them," Andrea questioned.

"Well...by the time they found them, the guy had killed and ate the rest of his family that was still alive." There were murmured comments of disgust and horror from around the fire. Carl stared up at his mom with wide eyes for a moment before trying to seem like he had some composure. "But mostly, wendigos are seen as these supernatural beings. Cannibals. It was something they used to keep people from eating each other when they were starving in the winter. Legend said that whenever someone resorted to cannibalism, they would never be full again. They would just keep eating and eating. Never stopping. Constantly searching for new victims." Dove finished with a sinister tone.

"Well shit," Merle uttered from across the fire.

"And you know what their favorite food was?" Dove continued in a quiet tone, eyes flicking quickly from one person around the fire to another. "They especially liked to eat....little boys!" She almost shouted as she jumped slightly in Carl's direction.

Laughter echoed around the campfire, Lori shook her head as she tried to suppress a laugh. Carl was trying to look like he hadn't clung to Shane's arm for a split second, a nervous laugh escaped his lips.

"Nah, I'm just joking. What they really have a taste for is bald rednecks," Dove smirked as she reached over to ruffle Carl's hair. She thought she saw a smile for a split second across Daryl's face before Merle flipped her off.

Dove was tempted to say something else, but the smug look stayed on her face as Shane cleared his throat. "As much as I love campfire story time," Shane gave Dove a look that caused her to simply shrug her shoulders, "I think we should all be getting to bed. Especially the little ones."

"Sure thing, Deputy D-" Merle began.

 Andrea cut him off by jumping up from her seat. "Right well, night everyone."

Everyone said their goodnights as they began to trickle off to their respective tents. Merle and Daryl were some of the first ones to leave, not surprising anyone.

"Nighty night, Merle. Don't let the walkers bite," Dove called to the retreating backs of the hunters.

Lori shoved her shoulder slightly as she laughed quietly, "God, you're bad."

"Ah he can take it," Dove shrugged her shoulders.

"Night, Lori." Dove turned on her heel after a few minutes of helping clean up around the fire and started off towards her own tent. As she ducked into the tent, she hoped that sleep would come easier tonight. All she could do was listen to the quiet arguments from the tent closest to hers. She waited for a moment and, just like the past few nights, her tent unzipped.

"Dovey, are you sleepin'?" Sophia's voice, groggy and half asleep sounding, came from the flap of the tent.

"Not yet, bug. C'mon. You can stay with me again," she moved around in an attempt to make room in her sleeping bag for her niece.

Sophia shuffled over and once they were all settled, she yawned "Can you tell me a nice story to help me sleep?"

Dove flinched as she heard Ed shout something from a little farther away, followed by an unsettling quiet. "I sure can. You want me to make up one about Princess Sophia?" Dove tried to hide the stress in her voice. Her hands shook as she stroked her niece's hair.

Sophia nodded slightly, probably already starting to nod off in the safety of another tent. "Alright, there once was a beautiful princess named Sophia. She lived in a big castle in the mountains with her mommy and her auntie where everyone was always happy and she got to eat cupcakes whenever she wanted...." Dove continued the story until Sophia nodded off, the story made little sense by that point as Dove allowed herself to finally fall into a restful sleep.

__

@crossbowking​

[thebrochtuarachs]

Something in the Rain - “So We Meet Again”

A/N: Thank you for all your lovely comments on this little fic. <3 Thinking about where this story could go has been a great feel-good exercise for me and it has helped me a lot to separate my work life and my home life. I hope this update brings a little joy to you as we continue to stay home in this pandemic. As always, your comments and suggestions are always welcome. Lots of love, M.

AO3  / C1: A Day In June : C2: Definitely, Maybe

XXXX

Three days have passed and Jamie has not found or seen his mystery lass. Not that it bothered him, really, but it’s more on his curiosity to see if there was something deeper to be explored there. He isn’t an expert on love, but the lady interested him enough.

He tried to catch her by the plaza, by the stoplight, he even went as far as hanging out after hours by the building he dropped her off hoping to run into her again (he’d make an excuse that he was passing by) but she was nowhere to be found. After three days of no progress (and him thinking he might be borderline stalking already), Jamie decided to press pause on it.

It’s now Thursday and he’s on another lunch run routine. He normally just gets the first thing that piques his buds, gets it to-go, goes back to his office and eats it fast so he can prepare for his afternoon schedule. Walking around, a familiar smell suddenly engulfed him and he naturally radiated closer to the source. That is when Jamie found himself standing in front of Mrs. Kim’s Korean Street Food Hub ordering a six-piece soy chicken wings to go.

“5 mins. Wait for your order to be called.” the cashier said. Jamie nodded and took his number.

It was a small kitchen stand with four tables cramped in a small space. If he waited by the pick-up station, he would block anybody that came in. His options were to find a seat or wait outside.

All tables were occupied except for one that had an extra seat available. The person, whose back was to him, was a doctor, as indicated by the white coat, probably practicing some method by the subtle movement of hands, reviewing a procedure, probably, on her mobile.

“Hi, do you mind if I sit down? I’m just waiting -” Jamie was cut off as a familiar face dawned to him. “ for my order”

The person in the white coat was a lady who grinned at Jamie as she took off her headsets and acknowledged his presence. “Oh my god, hi! Please” motioning for him to take the seat in front of her. “Umbrella guy, how are you?” she said.

Jamie, still quite stunned to see her, took a while to compose himself and reply. “Uhm, I went to get some lunch and remembered the smell. I thought I’d check it out”

“Oh, you have to try their soy chicken, it’s the best!” she blurted excitedly. “It’s my favorite. I usually just get it on Fridays but today, I’m celebrating a win so I’m treating myself.”

“Oh, I see” was all Jamie managed to say. He wanted to ask more about it but to his surprise, his mind is holding back. “I’m Jamie, by the way. Jamie Fraser.” He introduced himself, extending his hand.

The lady quickly took a tissue and wiped off fingers and offered the same. “Claire. Claire Beauchamp”

“Claire Beauchamp” Jamie finally had a name. “It’s nice to formally meet you.”

“Likewise, Jamie Fraser” Claire replied.

“So, you’re a doctor.”

“I am. Why?”

“Nothing. Just..” Jamie took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure how it would be taken but he took his shot. “Well, I dropped you off in another building the last time so…I wouldn't have guessed” Jamie rambled, as he made an embarrassed face when Claire turned away a bit to chuckle.

“Ah, right.” Claire could sense his hesitation but swiftly eased him out of it. “Well, Jamie Fraser, I am a doctor by profession. I just so happen to have business there last week”

“I didn’t mean to pry -”

“No, don’t worry about it” she answered right away, waving her hand in affirmation.

“NUMBER 11! ONE SIX PIECE SOY CHICKEN WINGS TO GO!” the cashier called out.

“That’s my order” Jamie reluctantly stood, not wanting to lose the moment but did so anyway to get his order. Returning to Claire, he saw that she was only halfway done with her dish and decided to take the opportunity to extend their meeting. “I ordered this to go but would you mind if I ate with you?”

Before Claire could reply, her beeper went off and she moved to look at her message. By the sudden change on her face, Jamie knew that she had to leave.

“Sorry, I have to get back to the hospital.” Claire said.

“No, don't be! Go ahead, duty calls” Jamie replied, hoping that he conveyed his admiration to her dedication more rather than the slight disappointment he felt.

As if knowing the drill, a staff of the restaurant handed Claire a paper bag to slip her food in and she packed her meal. “Look,” Claire began as she stood to leave, looking at Jamie and his takeaway. “I’ll be here for lunch again tomorrow if ever you’re free.”

“Yes, sure!” Jamie replied, a little too quickly but hoped she didn’t notice.

Claire’s beeper rang again. “Sorry, I have to get going. Let me know how you liked the chicken! Bye!” She gave him a small wave and left.  Jamie followed soon after, heading back to his office, excited to taste his Korean meal.

Simply bizarre things just happen when he's with this woman and he is left utterly mystified by it all. Recalling his past circumstance and today's unexpected meeting, he simply couldn't stop the smile it has brought on his face.

Tomorrow, then.

[pinkhairedlily]

Chapter 3 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

“Good morning, Sensei.”

Long trails of pink hair fell just inches above Kakashi’s face. He opened his eyes from a short morning nap and found Sakura shielding him from the summer sun. The book he was reading was on his stomach, turned down and split on the page he stopped.

“Good morning, Sakura. You let your hair down.”

She grinned at him and took a few steps back as he stood up. “I didn’t have time to dry my hair. I didn’t want to be late on my first day of class.”

“You had time to wake me up though.”

Internal panic coursed through Sakura which intensified more when he yawned and smirked, obviously teasing her, but it emphasized the small mole above his chin – something she was always fascinated about. “It’s bad impression when freshmen students find their teacher littering on campus grounds, Sensei.” I’m so proud of my quick wit. She happily sauntered away from the speechless, heads-over-heels, oblivious student trap.

Kakashi walked with her until the main entrance of the building, easily avoiding Sakura’s inquisitions of his summer break shenanigans and pinning the lack of it on the endless teacher trainings and seminars. Just before he left her to go the faculty room, he took a rubber band from his wrist and gave it to her. “In case you’ll get conscious and want to tie your hair. Have a good day, Sakura.”

She wasn’t conscious at all; she let it down for him, the hair tie in her skirt’s pocket – her pink strands freed at will to demand for his undivided attention, but she opened her palm to receive his offer all the same. She sighed after his fading figure in the gathering crowd.

New class lists were pasted on the bulletin board, and she scanned for names. Two particular people caught her attention. Ironically, they also appeared within her field of sight.

“Oh, Sakura. Good morning!” Naruto’s loud voice was ringing even though he just entered the building. If she would describe him, he was the embodiment of sunshine. He just had that positive energy around him which she liked. Walking close behind him was Sasuke, the stoic genius of their batch, and the opposite of Naruto. “How was your summer, Sakura?”

“Hmm, nothing much.” She glanced ever so quickly at Sasuke and saw him pay no mind. She liked that about him because while he was so unlike his loud, chatty friend, his energy was warm and kind, just hiding behind a tall wall of vulnerability. “I heard you joined the baseball team. Congratulations!”

Naruto shyly scratched his head. “I’m still a rookie though. I’ve got ways to go.”

That wasn’t entirely true. Sakura heard through the vine that he got mad agility skills, and that every sports team wanted him to try out. So much has changed in a year.

“Come on, we’re gonna be late.” Sasuke said.

“I haven’t seen which class I’m in yet!”

He grabbed the blonde by the collar and led the way. “We’re classmates.”

“Yeah, we’re classmates.” Sakura fell in step with Sasuke, Naruto frozen in shock. What an odd trio they must have been.

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

Their seating arrangement was pasted on the board when they came in. Sasuke got the seat beside the window – a good position for daydreams and afternoon naps. Sakura was placed beside him with a nice center view of the room, and Naruto was in front of her.

“Hey, Sakura. I need to tell you something, but it’s quite embarrassing. You see, I tend to fall asleep in the middle of class and since I’m in front of you…..erm….uhhh.”

“What he meant to say is he drools,” Sasuke interrupted. This apparently irked Naruto who full on glared at him.

“Well, yes, I drool. I have short attention span and classes make me so sleepy, but I hope that won’t disturb you. Just please look over my head.”

“How can she when there’s a porcupine sitting on it?”

Sakura chuckled at their weird, friendly banter. “Yeah sure, whatever you say Naruto. I don’t get easily distracted anyway.” She forgot to ask earlier if Kakashi will still be teaching Math for second years or which section his homeroom will be. As if her thoughts conjured him, he walked in their room, his silver hair glinting against the sunlight, and his eyes wandering in search for a face. Hushed gushes of admiration spread through the students, awed by the silent imposition of his presence. Then, his eyes fell on her.

He bridged the gap between them in easy, wide strides. “Ms. Haruno, the student council is looking for you.”

“They really sent you on an errand, Sensei?” No one dared to look beyond their interactions. She was easy-going, casual without being disrespectful, the model cheerful student, and the teachers’ pet. Teasing him with her half-truths hanging in between words was not difficult to cover up.

“Of course, I’m the council’s adviser.” And of course, she was thankful for his obliviousness.

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

“What do you think could it be? Did Sakura get into a scuffle?” Naruto asked after Sakura left with Kakashi. “No, that’s not really possible.”

Sasuke shrugged. He just wanted the day, or rather, the term to end quickly. He purposely avoided visiting the café, going in the mornings rather than late nights, partly because he didn’t want to run into her and partly because he was scared. He was just safely keeping his distance.

Sakura returned just before the next class started with an exuberant expression. The next teacher basically confirmed the news. “Congrats, Ms. Haruno Sakura. Thanks for stepping up to be the next student council president.” The position was left vacant after the initial appointee decided to focus on preparations and review to move abroad for college. The council, with faculty approval, recommended her to take the rein.

Hmm. They trust her abilities to this extent, huh. Sasuke looked outside, uninterested with the unfolding event and the break of congratulations around her. He saw her reflection on the window, smiling widely at her classmates, but her hands told another story, her fingers just solely focused on the rubber tie around her wrist.

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

Naruto had to stay behind for baseball practice which Sasuke was thankful for, but his feet didn’t want to go back home so he hid in their spot, napped for a while, and waited for Naruto’s message. When the blonde finally finished, Sasuke went to the field to fetch him.

“Sasuke, they’ll be joining us for dinner!” Naruto said.

“Sure, invite another team more.” Just his luck, Sasuke hated company, but like all other instances, he kept being dragged within his friend’s orbit. The team waved at him silently, knowing for a fact now that he didn’t respond to anyone other than Naruto.

“Really?” Naruto’s eyes perked up then a moment later realized that Sasuke was being sarcastic. He wrapped an arm around his shoulder and led the way to their usual ramen house.

“Get your hands off me, you vermin.”

“Awww they told me this was probably your love language – friendly banter.”

“Naruto, that didn’t come from us. We don’t want to get killed!” his teammates collectively chimed behind him. “Sorry Sasuke.”

Sasuke released a heavy sigh, quickly glaring at the players, but also letting the remarks slide. At least, this was a better option than being early at home and alone. After dinner, Naruto badgered him for desserts.

“I think I need a sugar rush. All the sugar left my body during practice. I envy Team Captain Haru.”

“The one with the undercut? His hair looked boring.”

“He has a steady supply of sweetness in his life. His girlfriend, Hinata, always visited during summer break. Quiet but supportive of our practice games. She cheers for him on the side and brings us snacks. I want a girlfriend too.”

“That’s normal, considering you’re a hormonal teenager.”

“Aren’t you the same?”

“Nope, I’m just a teenager.” His feet unconsciously led him to the café where Sakura worked. Ah, shit. “Hey, let’s go to another place.”

“This looks okay, grumpy! Besides, my feet hurt. Please have mercy on your dear friend.”

“You’re not my friend.”

“That’s a part of your love language too. Ehe. Come on now.”

Despite internally wishing she wasn’t present this evening, he found himself face to face again with Sakura. She had the usual disguise, but her makeup was on the heavier side – cat-shaped eyeliner just made her eyes stood up more. When she saw them, the first thing she did was look at him, conveying a questioning look, possibly on whether Naruto knew who she was. Sasuke subtly shook his head once.

Ever the simple-minded, Naruto’s focus was on the sweets. “I’ll have strawberry milkshake and a slice of red velvet cheesecake please!” It was going so well until he saw her face. Leaning in to Sasuke, he whispered. “She kinda looks familiar, don’t you think?”

“Your order, Sir?” Unfazed, Sakura continued doing her job. Her eyes looked towards the last plate of cream puffs.

“One slice of tomato cake and a matcha latte.”

“What?” Sakura and Naruto said at the same time.

“Even the lady agrees that that dessert sound unappetizing!” Naruto stuck out his tongue for a more theatrical effect. “Get a brownie or a cream puff.”

“I’m treating you so let me eat my tomatoes in peace.” Sasuke held out his card to Sakura who was still weirded out by his selection. Did he really give off a strong impression of his cream puffs inclination?

“I feel like we have a vibe going on.” Naruto leaned towards the counter, seemingly flirting with Sakura-in-disguise. “Maybe it’s because you have the same eye color?”

Before he could embarrass himself any further and prematurely confess his yet half-hearted feelings, Sasuke dragged Naruto away from the counter and on the farthest table of the café. “You made her uncomfortable. Stop it.”

“She looked like Sakura! But of course, our student council president looks more ethereal. I bet she’s so busy with school and club activities, she won’t have time for this.”

He spent an hour or so listening to Naruto talk about his baseball practice, the expired ramen he accidentally cooked last night, and the difficulty of their classes. It somehow ended on a note, much more like an imposition from Naruto, that Sasuke will give him supplementary lessons in this café and with his allowance.

They were about to leave when Sakura beckoned them over. She had two paper bags in her hands, and Sasuke noticed the absence of cream puffs. Someone must have ordered it already.

“Here’s a treat on the house – one for each of you. We’re giving freebies if you order within this timeframe. Come again!”

“This is so great! Thank you!” Naruto beamed at her but remembered something. “Hey, I’m sorry if I felt like a creep earlier. It wasn’t my intention.”

“Uh, that’s all right. I get that a lot.” She beamed back at him.

“You have the same beautiful eye color with our classmate. She’s cheerful, assertive, and has this positive energy around her. We hope we could be friends with her. Thanks for this again!”

Sasuke was too late to stop Naruto’s ramble, but he guessed it turned out fine. She just continued smiling like a good ole polite employee. “Get going, Naruto. I want to rest.” The two of them stepped out on the street with the fresh evening breeze.

“I feel like I still creeped her out.”

“Maybe you did.” Sasuke smirked at the tortured expression on Naruto’s face.

When he came home, he opened the paper bag to place the contents inside the fridge. It didn’t occur to him to ask why that promo wasn’t offered to him when he came last time, but nonetheless, he was a bit glad that he had something to munch on aside from processed food. His thoughts halted when he saw the cream puffs inside. His hands fetched his phone and he quickly dialed Naruto’s number.

“Grumpy, you missed me already?”

“What did she give you?”

“Who? Oh? You mean the café lady? Brownies! Do you think I can share these with Sakura tomorrow?”

Sasuke hang up on him without answering his question. He just kept on staring at the cream puffs on his kitchen counter.

Yeah, I better keep my distance.

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 4

[braindeacl]

Buzzkill | Eilidh & Vic

SETTING: Vic’s residence. TIMING: A few weeks ago. PARTIES: @natusvincere & @braindeacl SUMMARY: Vic has the angry-online-lady come over to help with her bee problem. But finds she knows the person knocking.  WARNINGS: N/A

Getting rid of a phallic-shaped bee nest and it’s accompanying vibrating man in a place like White Crest really should have been simpler than this, but Vic was already annoyed.  It could have been a simple exchange between her and the woman from the internet, until she tried to scold her with talks about bees and their moral superiority over the rest of the world, or something like that.  As the inevitable knock on the door came that evening, Vic hoped that their exchange would be quick.  Give her the nest and a nice glare for good measure, and hope to never hear from her or the bees again.  She pulled open her front door, but who she met on the other side was certainly not who she was expecting.  “Eilidh?”, she asked, bewildered.  An old, regretful hook up- and possibly the most annoying person on the planet. “Why are you here?”  She didn’t try to hide her disdain.

It should’ve been a simple exchange. Now it felt more like a rescue. That woman… the woman on the internet had no regard or respect for nature. Thankfully Eilidh had noticed the post and decided to extend a helpful hand, though with how the interaction spiraled, it extended to the bees and the bees alone. Plus she finally would be seeing the hive in person! She only had a faint idea with what she was dealing with—the shape indicating a specific and rare type of bee, despite her initial thoughts of mere coincidence. Coincidence wasn’t entirely off the table, but she eagerly ran straight for the tantalizing conclusion. She gave one loud knock against the door, a big bang on the wooden structure. Door opened, and she planned to keep it short, but definitely not sweet. Until... Until her name was spoken. Her chosen name. The one she rarely gave out. The pits within her boiled over, threatening to erupt from her. Throat prepared to growl, teeth prepared to snap. But then she looked harder. Recognition registered. The prepared growl lept out as a curt laugh. Teeth still considered to snap. “Ah, hell. Vicky! Should’ve known it was you.” A pyrite in the rough. Vic had certainly enchanted her, bundled her up warm. And left her out in the cold when she was done with her. At least the sex had been fun. Perhaps the only truth she knew of the woman. “Wanna give me your phallic hive, huh? This some long-winded way to say you wanna fuck again?” 

Vicky.  It was all Vic could do to not physically shudder at the ridiculous name.  She’d pretended to tolerate it back when she’d gotten to know the other woman, but the ruse had died down pretty quickly when it became obvious that she was not a vampire like Vic had first suspected.  She hadn’t needed her anymore after that, so she ghosted her, effectively.  She was so glad to be rid of the constant need for affection and sickening smell of dirt that she barely felt guilty for hanging her high and dry.  It was business, and Eilidh had no right to feel jaded.  “I should have known this was you”, she said after a while, closing her front door with a force that could only convey anger and annoyance to her companion. She ignored her accusation of wanting more, choosing instead to cross her arms and lean back against the side of her house, waiting for Eilidh to show any semblance of decorum.  Her father would have told her she looked like a child.  She stood up straight almost instantly.  “I can think of about 100 things I’d rather do”, she shot back, walking down her front steps and fully expecting the other woman to follow.  The path to her shed wasn’t long, though it was surrounded by blooming, in season flowers.  Their bright colors never matched Vic’s disposition.  “I was rather concerned about someone who was both enamored with the offensive shape of the hive and also more obsessed with bees than their own self respect that I didn’t know who’d show up today”, she said as she walked.  It was a total lie- most of her time before Eilidh had arrived had been spent on making herself look presentable- would this strange woman be pleased with how she looked?  What a waste of time, now that she knew who’d showed up.  She turned around as she led her, her innate curiosity taking over.  “What are you even planning on doing with the hive, anyway?”  She was not interested in old pleasantries or even apologies.  Whether or not Eilidh understood that was not her problem.

Eilidh had spent so long leaving others, never giving them the chance to do the same to her—because they will, they always will—she had almost forgotten how it felt to be on the receiving end. Almost. That old wound sported a new opening, stinging in the spring air. She had to be quicker next time. She had to be the first to go. Like the injured animal she was, she bared her teeth. It almost looked like a smile. “Would say the same. But never knew you well ‘nough to know.” At least some satisfaction was found at the clear revulsion on Vic’s face. It made the almost-smile more genuine. “Oh, hundred! Finally learned new tricks.” She followed behind Vic at a distance, physical mirroring the emotional. It was weird. Finally being here. Flowers in bloom. Dancing under the moonlight, despite the looming frost. Those gentle petals had once adorned the nape of her neck, intertwined in her hair. But now they ignored her. As cold as the air in her lungs. As the woman before her. At the inquiry, Eilidh’s divided attention snapped back to the leading woman. She too was equally beautiful, shimmering under the stars. But so far away. “Gonna relocate them. Find a place where they can thrive. Deep in the woods.” Far away from others, far away from her. So no one would destroy them. People had a habit of doing that to powerful, mysterious things. Things they didn’t understand. Suddenly, there was a sound from behind. Ever curious, she turned her head, and after a beat she realized it to be muffled barking. A true smile twitched on her lips. “Can I say hello to Winnie? That’s the only bitch I wanna see right now.” Truthfully, she had missed that kindred spirit. But bitterness forced her tongue, and her chances were most likely shattered. 

Eilidh wasn’t wrong.  In their time together, Vic had managed to get a considerable amount of information from her companion, all without revealing much about herself.  “That was intentional”, she said through a forced smile.  She scoffed, forcing herself not to turn back and face the other woman, despite the urge to defend herself.  “You say ‘finally’ like our time together wasn’t enjoyable for you. Did you keep coming back for more because you enjoyed the drive over, then?”  They arrived at the hive almost as soon as Eilidh finished sharing her plans for it and Vic locked eyes with her, unable to bring herself to gaze upon it in the company of someone else.  Bees could be heard vibrating from inside the nest, and a few buzzed around it as well. “Well...as you can see it’s very phallic”, she said, blinking awkwardly.  “I suppose it’s best hidden away in the woods, that way no one has to witness such an atrocity.”  Now if Eilidh would just take the hive and go, she’d never have to think about either of them again.  Of course she wouldn’t be so lucky.  She scoffed at Eilidh’s request, flaring her nostrils in annoyance.  Winnie adored everyone and anyone, and she wasn’t afraid to show it, either.  Of course Eilidh would want to see her.  After a beat of staring at the other woman, she rolled her eyes dramatically, walking a few paces around the side of the house to open her back door.  It wasn’t even a moment later that Winnie came bounding outside at lightning speed, panting and slobbering excitedly.  She did an energetic lap around the shed before she ran right toward Eilidh, trying to jump up and get a lick at her face in between excited barks.  “Winnifred, nej!”, she scolded, worried that her oaf of a canine would knock the other woman down.  The last thing she needed was a lawsuit on her hands.  Her words seemed to fall on deaf ears, or at least disobedient ones.

“Now, yes.” Eilidh stated plainly. While she could still at least enjoy the view—Was she wearing that dress just for me? Ha!—there was no more substance. At least, that’s what she told herself. But a wondering did linger—who was this woman truly? Did she laugh same as before, fuck same as before? The questioning caused negative emotions to simmer—brought a fog in her mind. But a comment, followed by a screaming thought, brought her back. It's not an atrocity! She wanted to scream, to go on yet another tangent. But they’ve had that whole song and dance before. And she had more than just mere words in her arsenal. A growl took the scream’s place. Feelings effectively summarized by that primal rumble in her throat. “Must be why you’re out here. By yourself.” Before Vic could register what she meant, Eilidh turned to face the hive. It truly was phallic. Much more magnificent than in the pages of that old book. She took a step forward, then another, then one more. Testing her luck. Testing their patience. With one more questioning step—snow giving a satisfying cruuunch—the bees started to stir, awoken from their stupor. Buzzing sounding more like a warning hiss. Her feet came to stop—let her eyes do the work instead. The hive seemed to be fixed on the exterior of the wall, entirely out in the open. There would probably be no need to remove any bits of Vic’s shed in the process of securing the hive. Though, she might—she will—just for the hell of it. The backpack resting on her shoulders slid across her arms, joining the ground with a muffled thud. Searching hands grasped at the needed supplies. But as these items were revealed, basked in moonlight, a familiar jingling entered her ears.

Fingers released, letting the supplies rejoin their brethren for now. Eilidh had more pressing matters to attend to. The swarm gave another eruption of noise as the canine came just a little too close. But it was softer, subdued, perhaps having already grown used to Winnie’s antics. One second, she was lost behind the shed; the other, she was barreling straight for Eilidh. “A bhobain!” Arms opened wide in preparation, and Winnie wiggled herself into that waiting embrace. Then she practically wiggled herself out of it, her excitement unable to be contained by herself or Eilidh’s grasp. All Eilidh could do was laugh—sound like a wind chime in a hurricane. The laughter quickly died, not for lack of amusement, but for Winnie’s tongue encasing her whole mouth. She did not stop these feverish licks and returned the affection with scritches upon the dog’s nape. 

Eilidh’s flare for the dramatics seemed, somehow, even more annoying when Vic wasn’t putting on a front to charm her, and she rolled her eyes at the attempted insult, even if her companion could not see. Her looks were never an insecurity for her, at least not for a few centuries now.  Funny that she seemed to affect the other woman so much that she felt the need to insult her.  Again, she thought about how Eilidh had no reason to feel scorned or hurt.  Even if it was essentially fake, they had had a good run, and Vic had treated her right.  “I’m out here by myself to avoid running into people like you”, she shot back, though in White Crest, someone like Eilidh was the least of her concerns. Despite her annoyance with the woman, though, there was something fascinating about the way she explored the nest with such care.  There was a newfound cautiousness and gentleness there, one Vic wasn’t used to seeing from Eilidh.  Something sparked in her, too, when she watched the interaction between her and Winnie.  “How’s Tulip?”, she asked, against her better judgement. Eilidh’s dog, who was maybe the pure opposite of Winnie in demeanor, always elicited a sort of soft spot from Vic.  “I mean, is she surviving you?”

Good humors returned with each lick placed on her face, all Eilidh did in response to Vic’s retort was a simple laugh. The implied insult fizzled and died upon her ego—though the heat of its death did create some form of pride. Her simple presence—despite how literal the comment—could cause such a brash reaction? Funny! Momentarily distracted by the thought, she hadn’t noticed the shift of weight upon her body, until she was sent tumbling down under Winnie’s excitement. Upper hand secured, Winnie took upon the opportunity with vigor, making sure every inch of Eilidh’s face was marked with her tongue. More of Eilidh’s laughter filled the air in response. White vapors of breath clouded them in fog. Giving them some privacy. It was only broken with the mention of her own canine companion. Hands pressed and pushed into Winnie’s face—squishing those skin rolls into one—until her tongue licked the air in vain. “Thriving, actually. Been doing lots of swimming.” Warm weather drew the dog to water like moth to flame. Warmth that had slipped passed her fingers, same as Vic’s. “Well, had. Before a layer of ice blocked us out. Assholes.”

Winnie laid in wait, now frozen mid-lick in something akin to acceptance. But instead of allowing that tongue to return, Eilidh wiggled out from under her hovering form. As her feet found footing, she finally released that hold upon the dog, who gladly resumed those joyous kisses. Eilidh whispered something in her ear, gave a kiss of her own, then stood. The hive felt her presence once more, buzzing in welcome or threat or both. Those dropped supplies returned to her grasp, out into the crisp air, ready for use. “Time for a neuter.” 

Vic wanted to continue to scowl, but Winnie pushing Eilidh down was quite a sight, and despite herself, a smirk came to play on her lips.  “Winifred!”, she scolded with barely any gusto.  She nodded at the mention of the weather, annoyed that it had taken such a turn, recently.  “Winnie rather enjoys the snow.  She thinks it’s Christmas in July.”  She wondered, briefly, what it might be like for the dogs to get together to have a playdate.  As annoying as she was, there was something sweet about watching the way Eilidh interacted with Winnie, as if they had been lifelong friends finally reunited after being torn apart.  

She let out a shallow breath as her companion turned her attention to the bees, briefly wondering why the vibrating man never came around when she was outside.  Was he afraid of her?  He should be.  “Will it hurt them?” she asked, eyeing the supplies curiously.  “Where in god’s name did you get all those things, anyway?  Do you just carry around supplies for bees just in case one of their hives happens to be shaped in a horribly offensive way?”

Eilidh shook her head down to the eagerly waiting dog. “Perhaps Cailleach brought you a gift, eh? Do we got you to blame for all this?” A finger booped playfully on top the canine’s nose. Winnie’s tongue slapped desperately across her own muzzle, trying to return the favor and lick that pressing digit—but reflexes were too slow and all that tongue met was crisp air. Despite Eilidh’s hand clearly returning to her side, that tongue continued a good few seconds before realizing defeat. At the sight, laughter burst out of Eilidh once more. Ripples of that giggle still ricocheted off her throat as attentions focused fully on the task at hand. Well, almost fully. “Won’t hurt ‘em.” Despite the smile that still clung to her lips, drops of aggression bled into her voice. Assuming the worst. Because she didn’t have the best examples to work with—and the better ones were lies. “Don’t be too disappointed.” 

The aggression bled out, for the most part, leaving behind her usual humors. “Stole ‘em. Shhhh, don’t tell. Always gotta keep ‘em on hand. These fuckers are sprinkled all over town. Got a second bag for pussy-shaped hives, too. Can’t mix those two up. ‘Less you want ‘nother Clevesdale incident.” In that following beat, unwavering eyes stared at Vic—expressionless. But only for a beat, for soon a lip twitch betrayed her and she sighed an amused breath. But the truth remained on her tongue. The fuck did Vic think, she’d show up empty-handed? Not that Eilidh was particularly above brute forcing some projects—perks of her biology led to lack of need for safety precautions. So, the supplies she hoisted from the bag were for the bees’ sake. Not her own. They found themselves onto her hands, inching closer to the hive. The inhabitants stirred at the action, air taking on a quick heartbeat in their unified song. But frost lulled them back to sleep. Leaving her to her work. “Gonna help? Or just stand there looking pretty?” 

Winnie seemed to be satisfied with her greeting, finally leaving Eilidh be in favor of giving Vic a quick, affectionate nudge before she ran off into the yard, darting past trees and zipping through flower beds and jumping into piles of snow, then circling the women quickly before doing it all again.  She’d once heard someone refer to this behavior as the ‘zoomies’, though she’d never lower herself to call it such a thing.  She didn’t know why she was relieved to know the beasts wouldn’t be hurt.  They had, after all, offended her greatly with their hive.  But she didn’t have too much time to think of it before Eilidh made her backhanded comment.  She narrowed her eyes at the woman, crossing her arms over her chest.  “Can’t be more disappointed than when you showed up on my doorstep, darling”.  If she were being honest with herself (an annoying habit she picked up lately) it was a bit of a strange relief to have Eilidh there.  Her companion, for all her bite and quirks, wasn’t a threat, and Vic supposed that was good enough for her.

“I never know when you’re being honest”, she responded, ignoring the rather large piece of irony that came with her saying such a thing.  She pursed her lips with disdain as Eilidh continued, clearly unappreciative of her choice of words.  “Can’t you find another word to describe them?  P...ussy is so- crass.”  The bemused twitch of her lips let her know that Eilidh thought she was being funny.  Vic, for her part, let out another annoyed huff.  Again, too, at the idea that she was meant to help.  (She ignored the way her heart fluttered at being called pretty, the way it always did when beautiful women took notice). “I had you come so I wouldn’t have to do the work”, she muttered begrudgingly, despite walking closer to Eilidh and the hive.  The bees buzzed around her at first, and she instinctively wanted to run away even though she knew they couldn’t hurt her.  She looked at Eilidh expectantly, and then down at her bag, not quite knowing what she was meant to do.  After looking between them once more, she hoisted it up, holding it out so Eilidh could rummage through.  “I think you mentioned on the ‘online’ that you’d remove this for free, but I will be paying you.  How much does one usually charge to remove offensively shaped hives?”

“Don’t be such a pussy ‘bout pussy.” The way the word struggled to release from Vic’s mouth—like sap oozing from a tree—sent chuckles freely from her own. Which quickly turned to a scoff at Vic’s protest. “I think ‘least you can manage”—words cut short as her idea came to life without any instruction, her bag brought up an easy arm stretch away—“… that.” Hands returned to the bag once more, confirming she had all she needed, though Eilidh no longer needed to bend as before. As they returned to the icy air, fingers brushed against Vic’s own. Despite the cold, only warmth pricked at her affected palm, up the connected arm. A reaction born of a time lost to a lie, she tried to remind herself. But the mind rarely won against the body, for it was one against all. So, she returned her gaze to the hive. She knew how to feel about that. “Not sure.” In truth, money was not something she put much thought into. The main reason it crossed her mind was to ensure the creatures that have come and gone from her life received satisfactory care. And Vic’s ignorance did present an opportunity to secure much funds for such care. But something else knocked at her mind, pushing out before it could supply an outrageous number value to her labor. “How ‘bout we trade in favors?”

The close proximity of foreign entities (What do they want? What will they do?) and of foreign tools (Will it hurt? Will it kill?) finally jolted the hive out of the winter stupor. A black cloud overcame the hive, phallic-shape lost under the swarm of small bodies. But what started as irregular began to form purpose. The lumps of the cloud elongated and quivered until something familiar was forged. Like looking at a fucked-up a mirror, Eilidh was greeted by the top-half of a humanoid body. Suspended in air, made entirely of bees. “There you are.” The being looked at her. Seemingly. The structure at the top, resembling a head, was tilted down. And the curve facing the shed was more pronounced, like where the skull met the back of the neck. Leaving the front pointed at her. Staring at her. A sea of many returned her gaze, a collective of eyes focused exclusively on her. Trying to meet one pair was fruitless—they weaved in and out of each other, blending into each other. Where one ended and another began was left unclear. But that was intentional. For they were more than just those of their parts. Not one. Not all. But both. And neither. And something new. 

“There is a man obsessed with insects in town.  Or- he inherited an obsession with insects, from what I’ve summarized.  He wanted to come get the hive as well if I’m being honest.  I agreed to let you come take it before your rudeness came out.”  Vic watched the ground as she spoke, the way the snow glistened against the twilight of the evening made it look like a natural shimmer on the ground.  She wondered what color paint it would take to achieve such a color.  “I’ll ask him what his going rate is.”  She narrowed her eyes at Eilidh, wondering if she was being serious with her implication.  “It’s incredibly illegal in the United States to trade services for such favors”, she chided disapprovingly.  “You expect me to behave like a depraved criminal?”  The thought was appealing, even if she didn’t particularly want to admit it.  Her bed had been particularly cold lately, especially since Marley found herself practically hitched.  It would be easy with Eilidh, especially if she could find some good-quality earplugs. 

Vic wanted to flinch as the bees swarmed, childhood fears of discomfort bubbling to the surface at the thought of being stung by the beasts.  But then she blinked as the swarm became more concrete, not quite believing what she saw forming in front of her.  “Oh.  That’s the naked man”, she said, everything coming into place.  “Perhaps this is why it appears he’s vibrating from afar.”  She stepped closer to Eilidh and the bee man, realizing now that these bees were less natural than she thought.  Phallic loving bees for sure, judging from the shape of the hive and the vibrating man’s apparent appendage.  “Maybe he needs to earn your trust before they’ll let you cut it down”, she suggested, her voice a hushed whisper in Eilidh’s ear.  “Naked man!”, she was shouting now, even though the bee man was barely two feet away.  “You are not safe here.  Or- you do not belong.  I do not wish to look at your offensive, ugly hive any longer!”

Eilidh blinked. Only once, realization pushed away the confusion and forced out a laugh. Loud and brief—thunderclap of amusement. “For someone who can’t say it. You got pussy on the mind.” Certainly hadn’t been the main path her mind ventured. While Vic’s body had been a topic—and sex did find itself lower down on the list—it had focused more on humiliation than pleasure. Though for some, the two weren’t so exclusive. The latter especially took a run about in her thoughts. Caused a prick of rage, though left an aftertaste of craving. A craving she thought she’d been done with, after the abandonment set in. But anger and lust often paired, at least for her. She eyed the woman up and down, hands unsure if they wanted to slap or caress. “‘Pends. How desperately you want ‘em gone?” Those hands found an answer at Vic’s… attempt to placate the hive. Directed shout caused the amalgamation to flinch in its own special way. Form rippled as if struck by the sound waves. Solidity returned at the insult, though stillness did not. Vibrations shook its entire core—caused a buzzing unlike anything heard before. Before the situation could be worsened, those decisive hands finally found themselves on Vic. And gave her a blunt shove. Right into the snow. “Anyway. Wanna get away from this bitch? To some place nice and warm? Summer’s only a few miles away.” Stillness. Silence. The hive watched her with consideration, head tilting in thought. 

Vic knew her face could no longer blush, but she was sure that the moment a laugh bubbled out from Eilidh, her cheeks turned a bright crimson.  She didn’t know why she assumed Eilidh had been making such an offer, but hindsight made her utterly embarrassed that she’d said it out loud.   “It’s just what I’ve come to expect from you”, she muttered out weakly, her hands traveling to smooth down her hair in an effort to keep themselves busy.  “Desperately enough to invite who I thought would be a stranger over to take them”, she answered honestly, wondering if this whole interaction might be over by now if she had just let the insect man grab the hive instead.  It certainly would have filled her with much less dread and guilt, that was for sure.  Vic let out an equally surprised and offended grunt when she was shoved to the ground, and her hands barely caught herself in time to stop herself from landing face-first in the snow.  The nerve of Eilidh pushing her down on her own property!  As she picked herself up and brushed herself off, face contorted with a mix of annoyance and offense, she distantly heard what her companion was saying to the dickbees.  “Bitch?”, she asked incredulously, clearly offended.  “That’s incredibly rude.  If you’re going to insult me, at least do it while I’m out of earshot like a decent person”, she huffed.  The bees, for their part, seemed calmed by Eilidh’s offer, and their shape began to form less of a man with every passing second, as if their demeanor was calming.  Despite all of the offense, Vic couldn’t help but glance again at Eilidh.  “I think they’ll like their new mom”, she said dryly.  Eilidh seemed to have some sort of special connection with stupid creatures, if her relationship with Winifred was any indication.

Eilidh smirked, eyes refusing to join the ground with the woman she addressed. “Then get outta earshot.” She felt a sudden pull for the amalgamation, at that quip of motherhood. Such a word always putting her in an odd sort of way, whether pleasant or distressed. But it passed just as the sourcing comment. A thought of apology was absent from lips and mind. Her attentions instead fully found themselves on the buzzing entity—though reaction would be mirrored if the two women had been alone. The two eliciting different reactions from the entity: buzzing turned chorus with Vic and trembling turned stilled at Eilidh. Both coursed over each bee unit as the legion’s gaze went back and forth. Overcome by waves of sound and silence. The silence won, revealing the hum of brisk winds in its wake, as the rocking head settled on Eilidh. Only turned to movement again to give a small nod. Almost simultaneously, Eilidh’s hands clapped together. That nod returned on her own head. “Lovely. Let’s get on it, then.” She began her work removing the hive as inhabitants watched with a curiosity. Even assisted when needed. Hands, both of flesh and of bees, worked silently for a minute or two. Until Eilidh broke it. “I’ll message later the payment. This was lots of work, you see.” The hive began releasing its hold on the shed easily, as if all it needed was a simple push. “Gonna need to really consider all the parts.” 

Vic crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at Eilidh, sending her a look of scorn and distaste.  “You get out of my earshot!”  Although there was a feeling, deep and dark and desperate to be ignored, that she didn’t want Eilidh to leave at all.  She watched with rapt attention and curiosity as the bees and Eilidh worked together to do their work, her companion seamlessly joining a computer-like system of workers who knew what needed to be done and when.  It was so easy for them to join together, even as Vic had only moments ago been thinking how inconvenient and annoying they both were.  She let out a huff when the work was done, unsure of what exactly she was feeling.  An urge to call Morgan pricked at the back of her neck like a bee sting.  “I’ll be waiting, then.  Don’t know why everything has to be such a big production.”  Eilidh, still in love with the theatrics, could have just told her how much she wanted here and get it over with.  But Vic didn’t hate the idea of having to meet up with her again.  As she watched her go, Winnie settled at her side, her breaths heavy and rambunctious as she watched with some longing her friend leave.  Vic tried to ignore her own feeling of longing, but life was never so simple or kind. 

[spidernerdsblog]

I forgot that you existed: Chapter Three

A/N : Chapter three is here. It’s a little bit longer than the previous chapters got a little carried away. Things are getting little steamy between our ex lovers. In this chapter I have incorporated some other songs felt it will go with the situation the songs go side by side with the scenes as you read. Hope you like it. Feedback and suggestions are always welcome.

Pairing : Tom Holland × Singer reader

Summary: It's been more than five years since you and Tom have gone their own ways after a heartbreaking breakup which had left both of you shattered. Both of you thought that you were finally over with each other and were happy in your respective lives until you meet again at a reunion trip planned by your best friend and you realize you are still not done with each other.

Warnings: mild cursing

Mini playlist: It’s nice to have a friend by Taylor Swift, Physical by Dua Lipa, Into you by Ariana Grande

In the evening a barbeque was arranged. All were enjoying chatting, eating and drinking. You occasionally glanced towards Tom and El all cuddled up. When suddenly Paddy called you

“Hey Y/N it’s been so many years didn’t hear you sing”

“Then how are my albums selling if I’m not singing Pads” you joked giving a surprised look

“I meant up close live like you used to do”

“Yes Y/N please sing something I always wanted to go to your concerts but never got the opportunity” El insisted

“But I don’t have my guitar or any kind of instruments”

“That’s not a problem we have your old guitar wait a minute let me get that” Ed got up to bring it.

“You still have that?”

“yeah Tom insisted to keep it here” Harrison said.Tom and you looked at each other.

“Okay this song is totally dedicated to you guys and please no posting in your social media accounts because this will be in my next album too, the music company will kill me.” You joked. You tuned in the guitar and started playing

School bell rings, walk me home Sidewalk chalk covered in snow Lost my gloves, you give me one "Wanna hang out?" Yeah, sounds like fun Video games, you pass me a note Sleeping in tents

It's nice to have a friend (Ooh) It's nice to have a friend (Ooh)

Zendaya leaned her head on your shoulder you smiled at her.

Light pink sky up on the roof Sun sinks down, no curfew Twenty questions, we tell the truth You've been stressed out lately? Yeah, me too Something gave you the nerve To touch my hand

It's nice to have a friend (Ooh) It's nice to have a friend (Ooh)

Harrison got up from his seat and grabbed your shoulder from the back giving you a hug as you sang.

Church bells ring, carry me home Rice on the ground looks like snow Call my bluff, call you "babe" Have my back, yeah, everyday Feels like home, stay in bed The whole weekend

It's nice to have a friend (Ooh) It's nice to have a friend (Ooh) It's nice to have a friend (Ooh)

It was an emotional moment for all of you as everyone gathered around you for a giant hug though Tom kept his distance.

“Okay enough of tears. Tomorrow is going to be a fun day because its beach day.” Harrison announced. Everyone cheered.

“So better we all get a goodnight’s sleep”

 You were a late riser when you are on a holiday so when you woke up Zendaya was already dressed for the beach day

“Good morning sleeping beauty”

 “Morning” you mumbled

 “So excited for today?”

 “Totally!!”

 “Then get your ass out of the bed and freshen up”

 “Yeah” you rubbed your eyes

 “I'm going downstairs to check what others are  upto don't fall asleep in the bathroom.”

“Okay”

 You got up and went to the bathroom to brush your teeth and then have a shower . The cool water relieved your muscles instantly .

 Paddy, Jacob and Ed were busy setting up the table. Harry and Chloe were helping Sam in the kitchen.

“What's up boys?”

 “Breakfast is almost ready”, Sam said, tossing the ingredients in the fry pan.

 “The food looks so delicious gotta take a picture will make a perfect story. Oh shit I forgot my phone.”

 Tom was coming down the stairs as Zendaya stopped him.

“Hey Tom can you please go and tell Y/N to bring my phone with her when she comes downstairs.?”

Tom hesitated to go but eventually agreed .. "yeah okay"

You came out of the bathroom all fresh a towel wrapped around your body. As you started humming a song and drying your hair with a blow dryer.

Tom stood in front of your room. He really had a bad habit of not knocking before coming into your room since childhood so out of habit he just opened the door.

 As the door flung open. You shrieked, clutching your towel tightly.

“Oh my god!!! What the fuck Tom!!!”

 Tom couldn't help but stare at you in a towel hair all wet, beads of water dripping down the ends. Your smooth skin glowing in the sunlight coming from the windows giving you an ethereal look.

 “Stop staring you creep and close the fucking door!!!” You yelled again.

Tom was startled as he closed the door behind him.

 “Seriously” you huffed “I said to close the door and leave not to come inside you idiot!!”

 “It's in a way your fault why didn't you lock the door?” Tom quipped back

 “What!! After all these years you couldn't learn the basic manner of knocking the door before entering someone's room. And it's my fault?”

 “Okay I'm sorry calm down I just came to convey Z's message she said you to bring her phone as she forgot to take it with her that's all.”

“The message has been received and now you may leave I have gotta get dressed”

 Something went across Tom's mind as he gave you a mischievous look "what if I don't?"

 ‘What do you mean?” You were confused

 “I meant this isn't the first time I have seen you like this, actually seen more than that.” He winked.”Then why so shy to change infront of me now?”

 You narrowed your eyes," you think this is funny Holland?"

 “Whatever you think princess.” he grinned

 Tom was testing your patience but you weren't the one to give up so easily . So you decided to play along with his dangerous game.

 "You know what I actually don't mind either ." you smirked. "But I don't think El would be quite pleased to see her would be husband with his ex just in a towel."

 You started walking towards him with a sultry look in your eyes, your hand grabbed the tucked end of the towel as you motioned to remove it from your body. Tom was stunned by your answer little did he expect you would say that. Inappropriate thoughts started to hover in his mind but half of his mind reminded him it is wrong he's engaged to El and he can't break her trust. Tom shut his eyes and turned his back towards you as he opened the door and left closing it behind . You shook your head and laughed at how flustered he looked. You quickly got ready putting on your shorts and an off shoulder crop top.

 You came downstairs, breakfast was already served. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and toast instantly made you hungry. There were freshly baked muffins too.

 “Here you go rock star.” Chloe handed you your plate of food.

 “Thanks darlo” you cooed

 You bite into your muffin as you get lost in its flavors.

"mmmmph.. I think I had a foodgasm" you giggled as others also started laughing.

“How do you cook so tasty food Sam? it's too good. I missed this so much”

 “Glad you liked it Y/N”

 You went to pick up another piece of muffin from the plate on the table as you were interrupted by another hand. It was Tom. You looked at him.

"Umm.. ladies first" He said moving his hand.

 You took your piece and went to chat with others.

Tom's eyes followed you thinking of how unbothered you were after the little stunt that you pulled off a while ago.

 “Yo man where are you lost at” Jacob broke his train of thoughts

 “Nothing bro” tom shook his head

 “Where's El?”

 “Oh she's getting ready will be down in a minute.”

 ..................................

Finally you were all on the beach. The weather was perfect and you can't wait to go surfing after so many years. You spread your towel on the chair and put your bag on it. You grab your sunscreen lotion and apply it to your exposed areas. As you heard El calling sweetly. She looked gorgeous in bikini top and a sharong.

“Tommy can you please help me apply the lotion on my back.”

“Sure darling.” Tom took the lotion and started applying it to her back.

You kept looking as you smiled, eyes furrowed.

 "Typical" you heard Zendaya saying and looked at her as she rolled her eyes.

 "I find it cute though" you winked as both of you started giggling.

Tom looked at both of you scrunching his face as he understood why you both were laughing.

 You then spoke loudly to grab everyone's attention "are we going for surfing or not because the water will not come to us we have to go to the water! Or are we here just to apply sunscreen and get tanned" you gave a side look, that was enough to get on Tom's nerve, your revenge taken for the morning fiasco.

 Zendaya gaped at you with a smile. "You are such a bitch" she lightly punches your arm giggling.

 “Wasn't that the plan?” You raised your brow

 “Don't get so cranky grandma we are going for surfing. Let me get the surf boards first” Harrison said.

 “Do it fast.”

“Hey El you’re not coming?”

“Oh no I can’t surf”

“Tom can teach you, can’t you Tom?”

“Oh no it’s ok we have come to enjoy don’t want him to give surfing lessons instead of enjoying I can learn afterwards as he’s going to be there for me forever”

“You are really a sweet girl El I really like you. Tom is really lucky to have you”

“Thanks” she giggled shyly as she hold on to Tom’s hands.

 You felt really good surfing after a long time. You made Harry click some good Instagramable pictures of yours while surfing. You were all wet when you came on the shore, clothes sticking to your body. You raised your hands above your head and stretched your body. When you heard someone say

“Nice tattoo”

You looked at the man with flowy dark brown hair and indigo eyes. He was tall with a broad chest and well defined abs . You glanced at your tattoo on the left side of your hip and then looked at him

 "Umm thanks" you furrowed your eyes smiling.

 “Solo trip?”

 "Oh no with my mates they are over there" you pointed towards your group.

 “ Oh great!! By the way I'm Steve.. Steve Johnson  and I know who you are. Big fan of your works.”

“Thank you” you smiled shyly

 “I really like your tattoo”

 “You like my tattoo or is there something else you like ?” You narrowed your eyes grinning.

 "Yeah I like you too by the way" he scratched his head giving a goofy smile looking down his feet then to you.

 You shook your head and laughed

 “But still what is the meaning behind it?”

 "Nothing special. I just liked the design and I had a scar over there so I had to cover it up." That wasn't the actual story behind it and you knew it very well.

 Tom was with El listening to her chatter but all his attention was in your conversation with Steve. And he knew that the tattoo on your hip was there for a special reason not for any mere scar.

 Happy first anniversary to us. You clinked your champagne glasses together. It's been one year since Tom proposed you to be his girlfriend. Tom had decided to have a candlelight dinner with you at his house. He had cooked your favorite dishes. After dinner you both sat down on the all couch cuddled up to binge watch star wars movies.

“Y/N?”

 “Hmmm”

 “Please never leave me even if I am being an asshole to you sometimes. Please don't ever leave me”

“I'll always be there for you dummy.” You messed his hair. “Besides who else will tolerate your tantrums other than me.”

“Pinky promise?”

 You giggled “yes pinky promise.” You both hold on to your pinkies.

“You know what I'm thinking to get a tattoo”

“Don't get under your foot it really hurts” Tom chuckled.

 And the next day you were in a tattoo parlor as you went through the catalog and found the exact design you wanted.

You couldn't wait to show it to Tom as you reached his house you just ran inside as you saw him in the kitchen you went and hugged him from back and gave a kiss on his cheek. “I have a surprise for you”

He turned around the kitchen island to face you.You lifted your top to reveal your hip. You had got a tattoo of two hands pinkies intertwined as a reminder to your yesterday's promise of not leaving each other.

The promise you made was already broken. And maybe the heartbreak you had was a scar for you. 

“Okay then you enjoy your day I gotta go find my friends.See you around.”

 “Yeah sure.” You gave a smile

As he left Z, Chloe and El huddled around you

“Oh my god Y/N who was that hot guy?” Z asked excitedly

 “Umm his name is Steve and he likes my tattoo.” You giggled.

 “It's barely our second day here and you got someone to get laid way to go girl” Chloe lightly punched your arm

 “Oh shut up I barely know him” Harrison called you all to say something. Z, El, Chloe went towards him. As you were about to go you heard Tom

“So you finally found someone who can apply sunscreen on you too”

“What!? Oh come on we weren’t making fun of you, we just didn't think you were such a hopeless romantic type of guy”

 “When you are with the right person it feels good to be a hopeless romantic. Like take it for yourself you were always a fun type not marriage or romancing type”

 “So you're admitting that I was fun, glad to hear that.” You winked.

“Hey Y/N come on lets play volleyball”

“Yeah coming!! Haz”

“So what are teams?”

“It's me vs you. 

“Fine by me.Gonna kick your ass like always.”    

“Don’t get so overconfident darling I have upped my skills. Okay let's toss  whoever wins will get to choose first their team members.” 

“I’m gonna be the referee” El announced.

Harrison won the toss he chose Ed, Jacob, Tuwaine, Chloe, Harry

You had hoped Haz took Tom in his team but damn you Haz ,so you had Z, Paddy, Tom, Sam in your team

“Hey we are short of one player” you complained

You saw Steve coming from the other side with his friends. Zendaya elbowed you

“Babe it's your chance go and ask him out” You giggled and immediately ran towards Steve

“Hey hi”

“Hi again beautiful”

You hesitated a bit “Umm do you wanna? do you mind if I ask you to join us? We are playing volleyball and I'm short of one player.”

 “Of Course love, it will be my utmost pleasure.”

 You both came back and took your positions at the back. The game started and you were impressed by Steve's skills. He was really good at the game.

“Didn't think you would turn out be such a player.”

“I can be more than that love if you want.” He winked.

You blushed profusely “for now I just want to beat my best friend's ass in the game”

“As you wish mam”

Tom was standing in the front and he could hear all of your conversations. It would be a lie if he said he wasn't feeling jealous.

Both the teams were on tie the last round was do or die for you.

You went to serve the ball but accidentally it slipped and it went and hit at the back of Tom's head. You gave a panicked look while others started laughing.

“I'm really sorry Tom the ball slipped from my hand” you also started giggling.

“But I think you did that intentionally Y/N” Tom said angrily

 “What do you think I don't understand why you are acting to be so nice”

“What are you saying Tom I don't understand I already said that I'm sorry it was totally an accident?”

“Are you sorry? You just can’t tolerate that after so many years finally I’m happy with someone”

“Yo Tom calm down” Jacob said

 “Yes Tom stop overreacting!” Chloe yelled

“Tell your friend to stop acting to be so nice!!”

“Hey man you are unnecessarily making a big deal out of it” Steve came in your defense.

“You please stay out of this. Its between us”.

“Tom you can’t speak to Steve like this”

“Oh now I get it all this to grab his attention. You are wasting your time on her dude take my advice leave her she anyways will leave you after she gets whatever she wants from you”.

Your blood was boiling at Tom’s words. El was totally confused at the whole scene she wasn't getting why Tom was reacting like that, your temper rising as you noticed her and abruptly spoke

“Hey El I know you are totally confused at what is going on let me give you a pretext to it ,you actually know half of my identity that is I'm their childhood friend but I'm more than that to your fiance actually.” you jabbed at her

“Y/N I said you no” Tom yelled

“Oh it’s too late now honey”

“For the record I'm his ex girlfriend. We had been in a relationship since we were teenagers then we broke up six years ago. But I guess he couldn't get over it as that is why he couldn’t say you about me” you glared at him looking up and down. “Maybe you are failing to give him the love he needs that is why he can’t forget me and is acting like a dickhead.”

El was definitely hurt by your words. She ran towards the beach house teary eyed. Tom ran after her “El wait! Don’t go! I can explain!! Please listen!!”

“Fuck you Y/N!!!”

You gave him the finger with both your hands with an uninterested look on your face.

The game obviously had to be ended after the heated argument. And everybody came back to the beach house. You were all sitting in the living room. Tom and El were in their room. Probably sorting out the matter after your big revelation.

“What is the problem with Tom?” Z exclaimed

“He has totally gone nuts” Sam scoffed

“Y/N are you okay?” Harrison nudged your shoulder

“Yeah I'm fine but I really feel bad I shouldn't have spoken to El like that. That was totally rude. I just got really angry. I didn't do it intentionally.

“It's okay Y/N we know it was never your fault. Tom has always been a dickhead.” Harry reassured you

‘I think I need to talk to El and clear things out before it gets more complicated.”

El was standing at the porch when you approached her.

“Hey”

“Hey” she gave a half smile

“Listen I came to apologize for today. I'm really sorry I shouldn't have talked to you like that. It was so rude of me. I just couldn't control myself after what Tom said. I don't know what Tom said to you about me but I have no intention of interfering in your lives. I'm really happy for both of you. To be honest I still love him, he is my best friend though he doesn't see me like his friend anymore. I don't want to become the reason for a rift in your relationship.”

“I understand Y/N in a way it was Tom's fault, he was the one who overreacted in spite of you saying sorry.”

“Thank you El for understanding.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah sure”

“Why did you guys break up?”

You sighed deeply “because I was way too selfish. I couldn't give the love he deserved. But now I feel you can fill that void in his life. You took El's hand in yours El “I'm giving his responsibility to you El. Please never leave his side. Fill his life with love and happiness he deserves. And if you guys want I can..I can leave tomorrow itself.”

“No Y/N I wouldn't want that you both share a past together but that should not affect our future. You will always be a good friend to me.”

“So if we are all good you guys are coming to the party right”

“Party??” El gave a confused look

“Yeah Harrison arranged a sort of welcome and success party for me, gonna have fun tonight.”

 “Yeah sure and I'll persuade Tom don't worry.

...........................................................

 You chose your little black dress with a deep plunging neckline as your outfit for the night. Zendaya was still confused between two of her outfits. You both did your make up and got ready.

“What's with that cleavage?” Zendaya quipped

“I don't think I stand a chance with that Steve guy after today's events so I have to find a new one” you laughed.

 As you guys reached the night club, you could hear the music blasting from outside. The bouncers checked your ids and let you in. Harrison ordered the drinks as you all gathered together. Harrison raised a toast

“To our long living friendships and our rock-star's successful album.”

You all cheered.

“Okay guys the drinks are on me for tonight, help yourselves” you announced.

The boys cheered. Everyone scattered the couples went for a dance as you looked at Tom and El dancing and laughing. You were sipping on a margarita when you felt a light tap on your shoulder and you looked back.

"Hey you went away without even saying a proper goodbye"

“Umm hi, sorry actually I wasn’t in a good state at that moment”

“Yeah I understand. how are you now?”

“Fine.”

He was checking you out all thanks to your dress

“Up here Mr.” You grinned

He gave a lopsided smile “you look hot”

“Thanks”

Physical by Dua Lipa starts playing

(Common love isn't for us We created something phenomenal Don't you agree? Don't you agree? You got me feeling diamond rich Nothing on this planet compares to it Don't you agree? Don't you agree? )

 Zendaya came and grabbed your hand “come on slowpoke. Let's burn the dance floor.” She pulled you to the dance floor.

(Who needs to go to sleep, when I got you next to me?

All night, I'll riot with you I know you got my back and you know I got you So come on, come on, come on Let's get physical Lights out, follow the noise Baby, keep on dancing like you ain't got a choice So come on, come on, come on Let's get physical)  

You both swayed to the music as you both started lip syncing with the song loudly and laughing. You grooved sensuously giving occasional glances to Steve. He took the que and approached you. You felt his arms around your hips as he turned you towards him. You put your arms on his shoulders as you both swayed to the music looking into each other's eyes.

“Hey Steve!! come on mate you have to go!” you heard a group of men calling out

“Er... sorry I have to leave my friends are calling. See you again” 

“It’s ok bye see ya” You came back to the counter. You ordered some lemon drops. You gulped it down and bite into the lime.

“Didn't think you will make him leave you so soon”

You rolled your eyes “wasn't today enough for you.”

“I can never get enough of you princess”

“Stop calling me that!!”

“Why does it turn you on?”

“Huh!!” you deadpanned. “It makes me feel nauseated. You don't excite me anymore Holland” you grinned. He was going to say something as Tuwaine interrupted

“Hey let’s do power hour” Tuwaine suggested

“Yessss!!!!” the boys shouted in unison

“Guys seriously none of you can handle yourselves after that. We girls have also come to enjoy not to carry your drunken asses home” You jabbed.

“We can handle ourselves Y/N don’t worry” Harry assured you

“We’ll see that”

The game started only Paddy didn’t participate as he was not sure of his capacity to handle . Jacob gave up half way through the shots. Sam and Harry both struggling to keep up the pace lastly giving up. It was now between Tom, Harrison and Tuwaine. Tuwaine won eventually. And now all the boys were definitely drunk as you had expected.

You were having your shots as Tom took one from you.

“Aren’t you already enough drunk loser”

“I’m not a loser” he said in a raspy voice

“Then who lost to Tuwaine anyways I’m gonna go dance you sulk here loser”

 Into you by Ariana Grande starts playing

(I'm so into you, I can barely breathe And all I wanna do is to fall in deep But close ain't close enough 'til we cross the line So name a game to play, and I'll roll the dice, hey)

You walked to the center of the dance floor swaying your hips a little as you start grooving to the song. You felt a little tipsy as you danced along the song, drunk sweaty bodies hovered around you. 

(Oh baby, look what you started The temperature's rising in here Is this gonna happen? Been waiting and waiting for you to make a move Before I make a move)

You started dancing with some random drunk guy. You glanced at Tom as you placed your hands around his neck and danced with that guy. Yes the alcohol in your system wanted Tom to make a move.

(So baby, come light me up and baby I'll let you on it A little bit dangerous, but baby, that's how I want it A little less conversation, and a little more touch my body 'Cause I'm so into you, into you, into you)

Tom clenched his jaw as he gulped down a shot slamming the glass on the bar counter and started walking towards you. You continued to dance sensually.

(Got everyone watchin' us, so baby, let's keep it secret A little bit scandalous, but baby, don't let them see it A little less conversation and a little more touch my body 'Cause I'm so into you, into you, into you)

You felt a familiar pair of arms around your waist as he turned you and pulled you closer to him. Your palms resting on his broad chest. The smell of his cologne taking over your senses.

(This could take some time, hey I made too many mistakes Better get this right, right, baby)

You placed your hands around Tom's neck as you get lost into each other's eyes. The world seemed a blur to you at the moment as you cared less of who was watching, you just wanted to live this moment.

(So baby, come light me up and baby I'll let you on it A little bit dangerous, but baby, that's how I want it A little less conversation, and a little more touch my body 'Cause I'm so into you, into you, into you)

 He took your hand in his and twirled you around a few times before pulling you closer, your back pressed to his chest, your bodies swaying, occasionally grinding against each other.

(Got everyone watchin' us, so baby, let's keep it secret A little bit scandalous, but baby, don't let them see it A little less conversation and a little more touch my body 'Cause I'm so into you, into you, into you)

 He brushed aside your hair with one hand, his other hand on your shoulder as he kissed you behind your ear. You gasped at his touch as you felt your body was on fire. You tilted your head a little to give him more access as he brushes his lips on your neck. Tom's hands ran down your arms lacing with your fingers.

(Tell me what you came here for 'Cause I can't, I can't wait no more)

You suddenly felt whatever is happening is wrong, you pulled away from him to leave as he caught hold of your hand.  

(I'm on the edge with no control And I need, I need you to know You to know, oh)

You looked at him and then to your hands. He pulled you impossibly closer as you slammed into his chest. Your legs were wobbly as he steadied you by holding your waist. The smell of his cologne doing things to you. Old memories, nostalgia hitting you. He lifts you up and spins a little.

  (So baby, come light me up and baby I'll let you on it A little bit dangerous, but baby, that's how I want it A little less conversation, and a little more touch my body 'Cause I'm so into you, into you, into you)

You look at him with droopy eyes as he brings you down; he hugs you even closer. He knelt near your neck, nose brushing against the bottom of your ear. You whimpered when his hot breath ghosted your ears. "Do I still excite you babygirl?" he whispered in your ears. You could just hum in response, your body shivering at each and every touch of his.

(Got everyone watchin' us, so baby, let's keep it secret A little bit scandalous, but baby, don't let them see it A little less conversation and a little more touch my body 'Cause I'm so into you, into you, into you)

Purple lights danced across Tom's face illuminating his  brown eyes, highlighting his each and every feature. You went dizzy when his lips ghosted at your sweet spot at the nape of your neck. You threw your hands around his neck tugging his hair at the bottom. His hands snaked around your waist sensually gliding to your thighs at the hem of your dress.You weren't that drunk so soon the realization hit you where it is leading to. You thought, what were you doing? This is so not right. You struggled to free yourself from his hold pushing him away by his chest.

(So come light me up, so come light me up my baby A little dangerous, a little dangerous my baby A little less conversation and a little more touch my body 'Cause I'm so into you, into you, into you ) song fading away...............

You both stand in the middle of the dance floor breathless. You ran your hand through your already messed up hair. You stomped off to the bar counter as Tom followed you.

...............................................................................

Taglists: to be added send a message or ask I'll be happy to add you in the following chapters.

@sophs-library​ @sleepybesson​ @spideyparkerstark​ @itstaskeen​ @milli86​ @biebsmylife95​ @quaksonhehe​ @hannahholland1811​

@astridcommings

[sablelab]

Covert Operations - Chapter 134

SYNOPSIS: Everyone who worked in Med Lab was under suspicion of being the mole including Dr Foster and Bóinne Rivière.  Murtagh asks his friend Fergus to help him with information about the Med Lab nurse from her profile but when he checks he discovers that she has been earmarked for cancellation. In trying to find any Intel that will help her, Fergus comes across an encrypted file.  A feeling of déjà vu overcomes him and his suspicions are roused by the only one person who was capable of making such a code … a nemesis from the past.

I really am very grateful to all the readers of Covert Operations and I am truly appreciative.  THANK YOU muchly.

Chapter 133 and all other chapters can be found at … https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations.   This story is not on Ao3.

   CHAPTER 134

 It had been a couple of days since Jamie and Claire had left Section, and Fergus Claudel had been collaborating all the data he could on those that Madeline had requested to see if he could find anything on a mole in Section One.  So far, he had come up empty and he was still investigating all avenues to try and clear up suspicion on his friend’s fiancée.

Tonight, as usual, Section was deserted except for Comm. It was peaceful and quiet and Fergus had the perfect time alone to do his searching task on Bóinne Rivière and others in Med Lab without being disturbed by anyone. It was just how he liked it especially when he was faced with the problem of doing something without anyone looking over his shoulder. However, just as he was about to pull up the Med Lab nurse’s profile, Murtagh and she appeared in Comm., so he shut down the link before his friend came any closer and could see what he was accessing and changed to another innocuous file. The last time he had seen the two of them together had been after their happy announcement but now they were dressed for the outside, obviously heading out on a date to celebrate their engagement and pending marriage.  As they were making their way over towards Fergus, Bóinne suddenly stopped and spoke to Murtagh. “Oh … I’ve forgotten my jacket … I’ll be right back.” “Okay honey … I’ll just wait over with Fergus,” he replied good naturedly. She gave him an indulgent smile then left to go back to her quarters to pick up her coat. In the meantime, Murtagh walked over to where Fergus was sitting at his station. Noticing that he was working on something on his computers as usual, he stood next to him totally absorbed in his own agenda and asked in an eager voice.

“Did you get my stuff yet?”  Fergus kept on working but he still answered his friend. “What stuff?” “The stuff I sent.” However, the computer whiz didn’t have a clue what Murtagh Fitzgibbons was taking about. “No?” he replied somewhat baffled at his statement. In Murtagh’s frame of mind it was as if the whole world revolved around him and Bóinne and he couldn’t quite understand why Fergus knew nothing about the message he’d sent to him just a little while ago. “You must know!” he strongly clarified; shocked that his best friend hadn’t read this important memo from him, so he elaborated for his obvious oversight, “Bóinne! ... Why, Bóinne, of course!” Fergus looked at his pal conveying in his glance that he’d had more important things on his mind lately than correspondence from him. “I've been a little busy, Murtagh. I haven’t even told you what happened to me in the White Room.” However, the munitions’ expert brushed off his comment, “No need ... you survived … that’s all I need to know.” He was too wrapped up in his own feelings to ask any further questions and before Fergus could reply Murtagh continued, “Hey, it’s Bóinne’s birthday tomorrow. I need to get her something that she really likes.” “Why don't you ask her?” was Fergus’ pragmatic response as it seemed that most logical thing to do. At his buddy’s reply, Murtagh came to stand in front of the computer and looked at his young friend with an incredulous look on his face. “You ..., ah ..., don't know women very well, do you?” Fergus looked up at his friend and met his gaze, before breaking into a grin then a laugh at the twinkle he saw in the older operative’s eyes. “Right now?” “Yeah ... right now,” he grinned in reply knowing that his young buddy would help him with the information he needed to know about his fiancée. “Before she gets back.” It was so glaringly obvious that Murtagh Fitzgibbons was in love. His friend had never looked happier and Fergus was very pleased for him. Having never seen him this way before, he took pity on his lovesick pal. He pulled up Bóinne Rivière’s profile knowing that he would have to do it at some stage to see if she was linked to the passing of Intel to Colum from Med Lab. He was a little hesitant that something might pop up that his pal shouldn’t see, but once her data appeared on screen, he only read out the pertinent information to him.  Sitting back in his chair he began to read aloud the nurse’s profile. “Let's see what we've got. She plays the piano ...” Murtagh accessed this piece of unknown information about his beloved. “Nice,” he replied eager for more titbits of her accomplishments. “... is fluent in French, Swahili and Russian.” The admiration for his fiancée was heart-warming but Murtagh could only manage a suppressed “Mmmm” when Fergus relayed this piece of information. He continued reading some more facts, “... broke her leg when she was twelve ... got thrown from a horse.”

A sudden image of Bóinne as a child flashed through Murtagh’s head of her riding her pony. “Really ..., huh ..., it’s great stuff Fergus.” Breaking from his reverie, he asked, “What else?” “She had two black cats as a child which she doted on.”

All of a sudden something else unexpectedly appeared on screen from her file as Fergus was reading, that gave him pause.   He frowned as he silently read the information to himself.  Unfortunately, the older operative noticed the change in expression on the young techie’s face and asked a little anxiously.

“What is it?” He was a little discombobulated at his friend’s change in demeanour and leaning closer, Murtagh tried to view her profile, but Fergus quickly darkened the screen before he noticed anything.

“Nothing …That was it,” he replied hoping that his buddy would be satisfied with the information about Bóinne he had relayed and forget about his hesitancy in sharing more before his quick closing down of her profile. “Well ... that's enough. Ponies and black cats, right?”

“Yes … that’s right.”

“Hmm? … cats!” He repeated as an idea suddenly formed in his mind for a present.  He gave Fergus a happy nod knowing that their collusion had paid dividends, but he was quick to curb his enthusiasm as he looked up and saw Bóinne approach them after collecting her jacket from her quarters. Smiling she came and stood beside her fiancé comfortably linking her arm through his and asked, “You ready to go?” Murtagh Fitzgibbons was a man in love and because he was enamoured with this woman he couldn’t contain his joy in seeing her again especially after his buddy had managed to sow the seed of an idea for a special birthday present for her.

“I guess you know I've missed you …” he replied holding her gaze. She merely just smiled coyly, before turning her attention to the computer expert. “Would you like to join us Fergus?” she asked in a gentle tone wanting to include Murtagh’s best friend in their happiness.  “To help us celebrate?”  Under the circumstances Fergus knew that they would want to be alone. “You don’t need me there to celebrate. Thanks … but no.” Three was a crowd and he would only be the third wheel, nevertheless he was touched that he’d been invited. “Have a great night.” “We will.” The couple didn’t take much persuading and Murtagh Fitzgibbons quickly hustled his lady love off, impatient to be out of Section where they could have some privacy. “Okay … Let's get out of here ... quick before this young whippersnapper changes his mind.” They’d both smiled and happily left him alone at his station.  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ However as soon as they were out of sight, Fergus pulled up Bóinne Rivière’s file once more, to reread her profile. As he read her details and scrolled down her data, he was suddenly gob smacked at what appeared on the monitor … it was the flashing last line that held his attention.  STATUS: EVALUATION UNSATISFACTORY TRANSFER TO ABEYANCE TERMINATION RANKING: 2 This Intel shocked him to the core, especially knowing that Murtagh had finally found some happiness in this hellhole, even though it looked like it may be fleeting. But now he was faced with a dilemma.

Should he tell Murtagh about Bóinne's new status or let him enjoy the time they had together? This news would be devastating for his friend.

There must be some mistake that her evaluation was unsatisfactory, he thought. How could that be and why had she been scheduled for cancellation? He was flummoxed as to how she had come to get such a rating. Her skills in medical seemed to be above board and she appeared very dedicated to her patients. However, everyone in Med Lab was under suspicion, but he couldn’t see how they would have the means to set up hidden surveillance or the motive to do so. Given Madeline’s directive, he’d always been worried that he would have to do this check on Murtagh’s fiancée, and those in Medical including Dr Foster, but he never thought he would find anything.  On the other hand, this was not a surprising outcome as everyone in Section was expendable. No one was immune to the life that was Section One. Things could change in the blink on an eye. Nobody ever knew how long they were for this world especially in the line of work people did, and it wouldn’t take much to put an operative into abeyance if it was decreed by the powers that be that they were unsatisfactory, as like what had happened to Bóinne. But this just didn’t make sense. Operations and Madeline already knew that she had failed her evaluation. Why did they want him to do a cross check on her? Were they just trying to join the dots and link her to Colum too, to warrant the cancellation? This was getting more complicated by the minute. He hoped to god that he could find something that may change their minds. It became more urgent now, knowing that he didn’t want to see Murtagh’s happiness shattered before it had begun. His buddy deserved to be happy and he would do everything in his power to find some anomaly in this decision … for his best friend’s sake. Fergus decided that he would do a thorough check of all Med Lab staff first before concentrating on who he thought was a prime suspect … a nemesis from the past … Frank Wolverton-Randall. Hopefully he would find something that would incriminate him and perhaps at the same time find some Intel that would get rid of the unsatisfactory tag and cancellation notice on the medical nurse. Fergus knew that he was now racing against the clock to find something ... anything … to exonerate her from suspicion and ultimately cancellation. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ It was late. Madeline had given him time to come up with something and so far, there was nothing of interest that they didn’t already know. Dr Foster and Bóinne Rivière appeared to have taken no part in transferring Intel to Colum Mackenzie, so that left him with his gut feeling that Frank Wolverton-Randall was somehow involved. He just needed a bit of luck to find a connection.  Tiredly Fergus removed his glasses and sat staring at his monitor hoping that the new parameters he’d just typed in would reveal something. What seemed like ages really didn’t take that long, for in no time a wall of numbers began scrolling up the screen in a never-ending progression. He studied the numerals and mentally tried a number of ways to go about deciphering them but couldn’t put his finger on what would be the best way to go about it. The monitor mounted above his head showed the same image but he numbly stared at the screen unable to get a handle on the code. Frustrated, Fergus got up to stretch his legs but he was restless and rubbed his hand over his head. He’d attempted several tried and true methods but nothing had worked so far. He was getting nowhere fast for everything he’d tried came up a dead end. He started to pace back and forth as one idea after another popped into his head that he could try to solve the puzzle. This code was obviously hiding something or someone, and must have been deeply encrypted, but he would find the way in. At least it was a glimmer of hope and something he could take to Operations and Madeline when next they met.  Fergus took a deep breath. It just didn’t make sense. This code was layered and multifaceted.

There was only one name that came to mind capable of inventing such a thing … his arch-rival and his prime suspect … Frank Wolverton-Randall. If anyone was able to produce such an encrypted code it was his nemesis. He was the only one that Fergus could think of that had the means to design something buried so deep that it would be too difficult for a layman technician to find. His suspicions were heightened once he found that code. He was having difficulty decoding it and only Frank had the expertise to invent such a thing like he’d done once before. His reservations grew all the more that he was indeed a mole for Colum. But he needed to solve this code first or else all his theories were just guessing about him, so Fergus typed in a different cypher to access the operative’s file, which after a while hit a stumbling block. It was then that the penny dropped that Wolverton-Randall could very well be implicated and had buried important files from detection.

If it took all night Section’s computer genius vowed that he would get to the bottom of whatever it was that Frank was trying to hide. 

Operations and Madeline would need proof and concrete evidence that he was Colum’s mole and that he was the one who was relaying intel to him at Oversight. So far, all Fergus had was supposition about an operative and one he didn’t like that much. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Frank Wolverton-Randall’s supercilious face kept making a vivid image in Fergus’ mind and he found that the man was doing his head in all over again just like he’d done when he’d first arrived at Section One those years ago.

He’d been having difficulty in solving an extremely problematic encryption and had been unable to decipher it much to his chagrin. So, he’d put forward a pretty select group of three people to his superiors who could possibly help. However, bringing anyone into Section clandestinely would always be challenging and Jamie and Claire had been given the task to bring in the one person Operations thought would be the best fit to help him … Frank Wolverton-Randall. He’d been blindfolded and brought into Section and would be released as soon as he had completed deciphering the code. But Fergus had reservations about his superiors’ choice of Frank from the very start because of constraints about him.

These recollections made Fergus Claudel remember his words vividly.  

He had pulled up the holograph profile and read the information noted to Operations and Madeline at the time they were considering him for this job. 

“The third candidate could be tricky sir.  He’s young. ... His name is Frank Wolverton-Randall. Graduated high school at eleven; college at thirteen. Received his Ph.D. after six months. Wrote his thesis on non-linear principal components. Because he's the youngest tenured Professor in the history of the University, he's highly visible.”  “What makes you think he can do this?” Madeline had asked.  “He's written several papers on statistical L-trees. Exactly the kind of approach that's needed.” Although Frank’s resume was exemplary, nevertheless he’d been a little peeved at the fact that the young man had been brought into Section because of something he’d been unable to solve. His resentment must have reflected in his tone of voice when Madeline had replied. “Fergus ..., remember, this is not about who's smarter than whom. He'll challenge you. Stay above it. We have an objective and a deadline.”  There was truth in Madeline’s words but it still stuck in his craw and made him have some doubts about Frank’s ability, but nonetheless he nodded his acknowledgement of her statement. At the time they’d needed his expertise. Their plan was to get Wolverton-Randall to decode the challenging program without him seeing or knowing about Section One so that they could release him when he was done … however, it had backfired on them.  Although Frank had quickly figured out the code, he was bored and got curious about where he was and had wandered outside his room against strict instructions not to. Operations and Madeline found out that he had seen Section, so they decided that he had to stay … the only other alternative was cancellation.  He was then left with a recalcitrant and pretentious operative working with him who was forever to be a thorn in his side. It was the attitude of the teenager that really riled him. His scornful jocularity was still a very vivid memory when he’d gone to his room and found Frank working on the computer. He’d ignored his juvenile obnoxiousness, and put the laptop down and started keying in commands to bring up the code that needed deciphering.  “Good. You know what? I wish you guys would let me in deeper, because there's really not too much more I can fix here,” Frank announced cockily. He remembered looking up at him startled by his statement. Every time the boy spoke it was a personal affront to his own capabilities and he didn’t like it.

“Fix?!” he remarked, the inflection in his voice one of disdain for the upstart who was superciliously questioning his ability. “Yeah, you had some bad modification dates in your ... ah … master symbol table. Don't worry. I fixed 'em.”  Frank Wolverton-Randall was reprehensible, but he’d managed to shrug off the slight and got back to the job at hand, but he couldn’t help the sarcastic words that left his mouth in a rhetorical taunt of his own.

“Let's just get to work, okay? Then you can go back home to your Mummy...”  “Sure Frenchie ... So ... you're the guy who couldn't break the code,” was his backhanded retort. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Frank was a vengeful, loose cannon, when he came into Section One calling everyone names and treating the whole thing like a game. At the time Section’s IT prodigy had thought how could someone so smart be so stupid? Although he was very young, that was no excuse for his behaviour. There was also a rivalry and a jealously between the two computer geniuses and Fergus didn’t trust him one iota. Frank was very underhand and had been a thorn in his side on more than one occasion.  Fergus could still hear his hollow words when Operations had praised him for his achievement in cracking the code.

We're going to make a great team Claudel … but there was an openly blatant, ulterior motive in his statement to him about his aspirations in the pecking order at Comm. 

“Yeah, well, you're the boss, for now ...” Trying to flippantly pass it off as a joke did not cut the mustard with him.  If he could implicate others and hack into his computer, Frank was one to watch very carefully.  There had been occasions too, where the upstart had humiliated him with his self-importance and on one occasion his narcissism had nearly cost him his life. When transmission went haywire during a mission while they were at Comm., and he couldn’t get it back up, Section’s leader had stood him down and placed the newcomer Wolverton-Randall in charge.  Frank succeeded but he thought that Frank had planned this from the very start to make him look bad.

The new operative had been placed in charge of his post by Operations while he’d been sent out on a mission for the very first time.  He had wanted out but, Section’s leader told him that he was keeping him inside the terrorist organization to gather more intel.  If he hadn’t thought of a way to get out himself, Dougal Mackenzie would have left him there indefinitely … leaving Wolverton-Randall in charge of Communications, and thus fulfilling his promise to be the boss himself one day. He would have been replaced by the very person who had manipulated his way into his position by skulduggery and deceitful tactics.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Those incidents were all very telling reminders about Frank’s motives and aspirations and were certainly a major factor to Fergus’ doubts in the situation that had now arisen with the Rising Dragons’ mission and breach of Section protocol.  At the same time, all of these memories were raw and it was little wonder that he was suspicious that Frank Wolverton-Randall was the one supplying Intel to Colum Mackenzie.  He had an axe to grind about a lot of people at Section One and payback was a bitch.  If he could do something underhand to destabilise the Rising Dragons’ mission, then Fergus knew that Frank would have no compunction but to do so.  Hence it was imperative that he was able to solve this code and he wouldn’t let it defeat him … not like the last time.  Suddenly, Fergus’ eyes lit up. Déjà vu. It all began to make sense and came flooding back to him as he thought of a different way to attack the code and decipher the Intel it contained.  Memories of that night had given him the clue he needed.  Fergus rushed back over to his station and once there gathered his thoughts, put his glasses back on and then started typing in a new set of parameters of a function that wasn't in the program. As he worked, the young techie’s face changed from angst at not being able to resolve a problem to one of immense satisfaction knowing that he was about to solve a complex puzzle.  He realised that this cypher had an outer shell ... but that was a big decoy. He then typed in another command and waited for it to cycle through the multi-threaded inner workings of his computer. Once he’d finished typing in the commands, he looked up at the monitor above him. It showed a percentage scale as the new program loaded and started deciphering the complex code.  The monitor showed a two-dimensional grid in which the encryption appeared as a series of spikes, like a mountain range. Fergus watched as the algorithms darted all over the screen until the new program finished decoding and the scale at the top read "DECRYPTION COMPLETE." The grid now showed structures shaped like rectangular towers slowly surrounding the spikes. From this grid he could now convert the grid table to words and read the messages contained in the code.  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Flushed with a sense of triumph at cracking the complex code, Fergus Claudel leapt up from his seat, pumped his hands in the air yelling, “YEAH!!!” He was a computer genius and he knew it. He looked around the deserted Comm. with a sense of accomplishment and excitement, now wanting to share his sense of victory with others, but there was not a soul around to share in his delight. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His hypothesis was correct. At last he’d found some incriminating Intel about his nemesis Frank Wolverton-Randall being the mole and with his involvement with Colum Mackenzie. He’d been instrumental in Intel tampering and now Section’s resident mainframe mastermind had the proof he needed.  Fergus began uploading the data about Frank to his computer. “Come on, come on, come on.” He whispered impatiently to himself as the files downloaded.  This is what he had wanted to find and it just may be what would facilitate Operations and Madeline to reassess Murtagh’s fiancée, Bóinne Rivière’s evaluation status. He sat back in his chair and waited until all the data was downloaded. Once it had done so, he saved the information to a disk ready for his next meeting with Section’s leaders.

Finally, with exhausted release and immense satisfaction at what he’d found, Fergus Claudel breathed a sigh of relief which echoed in his all-conquering acclamation that echoed throughout Comm. when he’d finished the download.  “YES!!!!”  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~to be continued next Friday 31st July

[todisturbtheuniverse]

FIC: Set All Trappings Aside [8/9]

Rating: T Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Pairing: f!Adaar/Josephine Montilyet Tags: Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Class Differences Word Count: 5000 (this chapter) Summary: After months of flirtation, a contract on Josephine’s life brings Adaar’s feelings for her closer to the surface than ever. It highlights, too, all of their differences, all of the reasons a relationship between them would not last. But Adaar is a hopeful woman at heart; if Josephine can set all trappings aside, then so can she. Also on AO3. Notes: While the context for this story is the Of Somewhat Fallen Fortune questline, some of the conversations within it didn’t quite fit for this Inquisitor. The resulting fic is a twist on the canon romance. This Adaar and Josephine have featured in other fics, so you may miss a little context if you haven’t read Promising or Truth-Telling, which both come before this one. Chapter-specific note:  All of the remaining chapters are up on AO3; they’ll be posted more slowly here on tumblr so as not to clog your dashboards.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

"She's late," Bull said.

Dorian rolled his eyes. "You don't say."

Cassandra, ignoring them both, continued to look toward the village through her spyglass. Josephine watched her, hands clammy. They were all awfully comfortable with the idea that something had already gone wrong. Perhaps from long practice. 

Josephine, unfortunately, wasn't practiced at all.

Cassandra lowered the spyglass. "That's the last of them."

"Really," Bull said, doubtfully. "All of 'em in the tavern?"

"Or standing around outside it." She tucked the spyglass into her belt. "Ten, all told. A few in older gear, but otherwise well-equipped."

"I'd've left some men out in the field. They have enough to spare for that. Catch us off-guard when we're in the middle of cracking heads."

"I believe they hope that if they are all in one place, you can be prevented from doing that," Dorian said dryly.

"We'll see how that works out for them."

"No change to the plan, then," Josephine broke in.

They all looked to her, as if they'd forgotten she was there. Fair enough. She wasn't usually here when they did this kind of thing. And after this experience, she hoped she never would be again.

"If she wasn't fast enough to observe without being made, none of us are," Bull said. "So either she's injured or worse, and we need to ride to the rescue sooner rather than later—"

"Bull," Dorian said, not exasperated now, but sharp. Maybe Josephine's face had given away something of how she felt about this hypothetical scenario.

"—or she's just tied up, and we might as well get on with it," Bull went on, perfectly even. "We're not going to figure out more about these people by standing out here with our thumbs up our asses."

Dorian glared at Bull. "If they've gone to the trouble of luring her here, she's probably the picture of—"

"She'd rather know the score than listen to me lie," Bull interrupted.

"We don't gain anything by waiting," Cassandra said, taking over. "She is very good with those daggers, but not good enough to handle a dozen opponents at once."

"She lacks the reach," Bull agreed.

Josephine looked to Cassandra again, who looked back at her, frowning. "They're not Red Templars," she said, not reassuring—that was not Cassandra's forte—but simply conveying facts. "I'm certain of that much. Well-outfitted, but no identifying regalia."

"Professionals, then," Bull said. "Not hungry folk."

"I just imagined I would know more about them than that when I walked into this negotiation," Josephine said.

"We always knew that we would have limited information," Cassandra pointed out. "Besides, you have worked miracles before. I have watched you change the mood at many a meeting in a single blink."

"To you, it may certainly seem that way. There is a lot of groundwork before we reach that point." Josephine took a deep breath. "And the stakes here are higher."

"Nah," Bull said. "Just think—usually we have to do this part without you."

Dorian looked torn between outrage and amusement. "You are creating more and more problems for future Adaar, you know."

"She can handle it," Bull said easily, and winked at Josephine. Well, maybe he just blinked. It was hard to tell.

"Very well," Josephine said, ignoring all of this regardless. "Let's waste no more time."

They took the wagon-rutted road on foot, leaving the horses tied at the turnstile that marked the highway. Josephine took the opportunity, as they walked, to unwind the chain of office that had been packed carefully away in her saddlebags and don it again.

"If they are as well-researched as they seem," she said, to Cassandra's questioning look, "then best they know who they're dealing with from the outset."

Cassandra's mouth twitched toward a smile. "They may be so distracted by the idea of all the money they don't know that we don't have that it will all be over before opening remarks."

"You would like that," Josephine said mildly. "Given your distaste for wasting time."

"Mmm," Cassandra said, noncommittal, but still she smiled. She hadn't drawn her sword, but her hand rested on the pommel; she watched the fields, eyes seeking any sign of movement.

Josephine spoke more quietly this time. "Do you think she really could be injured?"

Cassandra's gaze flicked to her, just for a moment. She hesitated before answering. "Yes. Anything is possible. If this is a hopeful grab for money, though, they would be stupid to seriously wound her." She let out a barely-audible sigh. "As long as she keeps her mouth shut. But if these people know her...if they wish to harm her because of some personal vendetta...well, she is resilient. She will recover."

Adaar had once told Josephine a story too terrible to be false. Now she had a hard time forgetting it, the images it had evoked: the close cellar, the tortured sawing of blade against horn, the just-in-time arrival of the Valo-kas.

She'd promised Adaar that no one would do that to her, ever again. She hoped that she was not too late. 

"And if it's worse?" Josephine asked, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"She would fight," Cassandra said easily. "To her dying breath. We would already have heard the ruckus." She paused, considering. "And if she got the opportunity, she would run."

Josephine held onto that through the long walk down into the valley, where the light from the Dancing Star still gleamed, brighter and brighter, resolving clearly now into firelight, not a star at all. The others didn't talk much, either, all preparing in their own way: Cassandra, steadily alert; Bull, whistling a low tune; Dorian, fingers tapping out a rhythm on his staff; and Josephine, combing over the possibilities, trying to think of what she'd missed, trying to guess at every angle this adversary might arrive from.

Five mercenaries stood just outside the tavern building, bright with nervous energy. They perked up when they saw the group. "Nice of you to finally join us," one of them—a lean woman with her hair braided tightly out of the way—called out. "No funny business means no mages." She pointed at Dorian. "Give up your staff."

"Of course, good woman." Without any apparent hesitation, Dorian threw the stick at her, maybe a touch harder than necessary. She fumbled the catch a little.

"Boss wants to talk to someone agreeable," she said. She leaned the staff against the wall behind her. "Amenable, like. Just one."

Some might call the diplomats, merchants, and nobles Josephine dealt with mercenary, but she had rarely dealt with actual mercenaries. Still, they were just people, in the end. People she wanted something from, who wanted something from her.

So she had gotten through many moments like this. She had just not been bargaining for her heart, then.

But her head took over. Like Adaar's long years of practice with a blade, Josephine had honed her craft until it was muscle memory, until it was second nature. She did not hesitate.

"Lady Josephine Montilyet," she said, stepping forward. She did not curtsy. "Chief Diplomat of the Inquisition. I believe that I will serve." Before they could get halfway through their uneasy looks to one another—maybe they hadn't bargained on quite so high an officer—she pressed ruthlessly on. "I must insist, however, that I bring some protection to the table. Cassandra will accompany me."

This was important; they would have a hard time inside, at the crucial moment, if only Adaar and Josephine were on hand to deal with the number Cassandra had marked going into the tavern—or, worse, if Adaar wasn't in there at all.

The woman said, "Boss said just one."

Josephine smiled, unthreatening, polite. "Two is not so different than one. We come in good faith; our mage has already surrendered his weapon; this is the nature of compromise."

With a scowl, the woman flung open the door to the tavern. Josephine heard the murmur of conversation through the thin walls. She listened with half an ear in case the words became discernible while she observed the others.

One of the men, standing a few feet to the right of the tavern door, had paled. His eyes flicked from Josephine's chain of office to the tall, tall points of Bull's horns. His armor was older than the rest, not as well-fitted or well-maintained. The mercenary standing beside him wore a similar outfit, but his jaw was set. He did not look at their group at all.

The woman reappeared, a sour twist to her mouth. "You two, go in." She gestured to Josephine and Cassandra. "You two, stay put." She pointed at Bull and Dorian. Bull made a display of scratching his belly and yawning.

"Thank you," Josephine said pleasantly, and led the way into the tavern.

It had been mostly cleared. There were a handful of small tables in front of the hearth, where three of the mercenaries stood; one of them broke off, following Josephine and Cassandra to the table that stood apart from the rest, where one man sat.

Adaar was on the ground behind him.

She still catalogued the rest of the room, took in all the information she could: a third mercenary near the hearth with lopsided leather armor; the old man behind the bar on the wall opposite, shoulders hunched, watching the room from beneath a furrowed brow; the man at the table, tossing one of Adaar's daggers idly as he watched them approach.

But she spared a heartbeat for Adaar, to feel the relief that she was alive, even if she couldn't allow it to show on her face.

Adaar knelt on the tavern floor, a mercenary to either side of her, their weapons already drawn, guarding. The neutral expression on her face spoke to how deeply annoyed she really was; Josephine had seen it now and then, when a visitor to Skyhold got too pushy with their demands. But her dark eyes met Josephine's, and they were steady, unafraid. There was a suspicious red shininess around one of her eyes, but she appeared otherwise unharmed.

They'd bound her hands behind her back, a problem she was likely already working on, especially now that the mercenaries were distracted by newcomers. Josephine would need to buy her time.

"Ah," Adaar said, breaking the silence. "The cavalry."

"Shut up," the man at the table said, eyeing Cassandra. "Moiraine failed to mention that your bodyguard is the bloody Hero of Orlais."

"I assure you," Cassandra said, in a tone that no one would have believed, "tales of my exploits have been greatly exaggerated."

It would be best to remove attention from her, immediately. "I don't think it's unreasonable to enlist such a chaperone," Josephine said, "considering the number of soldiers you have in this room."

Six, by her count. Just one more than Cassandra had marked. Bull and Dorian would have their hands full outside once it all began, and in these quarters, she would have a hard time keeping out of the way. It was several feet to the bar counter; she wondered if she would be fast enough to dive behind it before the mercenary standing behind her could act.

She sat. The man at the table still held one of Adaar's daggers, though he'd stopped tossing it. The other lay on the table in front of him like a trophy. She heard the mercenary behind her settle into position—no weapon drawn, and within reach of Cassandra, but the casual threat was clear.

"I assume your lieutenant already introduced me," she said. The man across from her glanced at her chain of office, as if in acknowledgment. "Who do I have the pleasure of dealing with?"

He sneered. "Ellis Koster," he replied. "Of Koster's Carvers."

The company name didn't give Josephine much confidence, but she pressed on. "I wish we'd made this acquaintance under more pleasant circumstances, but we must make the best of what we have." She folded her hands on the table in front of her. "So, to business: what do you want?"

He pulled a folded slip of paper from his breastplate, placed it on the table, and slid it across to Josephine under the point of his forefinger. There was a smug look about his face, every movement slow and exaggerated, as if he'd always dreamed of doing it—holding all the power, dictating to others.

She had been afraid, waiting for Adaar's return, realizing she wasn't coming. But now—now, seeing this foul man put a price on the head of the woman she loved, seeing him crush it beneath his insignificant finger, she was angry. She was furious.

She took the paper, unfolded it, and read the sum with a carefully schooled expression. Even had she been seriously considering the ransom, it was a preposterous amount. No one could be under any illusions that the Inquisition had such deep coffers.

She adjusted her understanding of his intelligence.

"What offense has the Inquisitor made against you to make such an amount appropriate?" she asked, looking up again.

A little surprise tugged at his features. "Against me, personally? None."

"Then I find it hard to believe that you demand this payment seriously," Josephine said, setting the folded paper delicately on the table.

"This ain't a court, Ambassador. I've got something you want; you've got something I want. I baited a trap, and this is the tax you pay to get out of it."

"I see," Josephine said. "Well, then I think you know that this is far too much to demand for one person."

A little of the lurid anticipation fell from his face. "That so."

She did not elaborate; she simply waited, keeping all eyes on her. She had learned early in her career that silence was a powerful weapon. Even now, she saw it doing its insidious work: sowing doubt, planting second thoughts—not just in Koster, but in his thugs.

One, in particular. The woman by the hearth with the ill-fitting armor. The rest of them showed discomfort in other ways, in a hardening of the brow, a shifting of weight, but this one had panic in the twist of her mouth, in the nervous flex of her fingers.

The barkeep, by contrast, had stilled. He glared—not at Koster, Josephine, or Adaar, but at the nervous woman across the room.

Interesting.

"Because it seems to me," Koster said, breaking the silence, "that there's not much of an Inquisition without an Inquisitor."

Josephine felt the flush of a minor victory. He hadn't been able to outlast her, and now, whether he understood it or not, she had reclaimed some of the power he had tried to hold over her.

"The Rift is closed," Josephine said, choosing her tone carefully. Bored, relaying outdated facts. Her attention already turned to other, more serious things. "The days of paying off common thugs so that we can retain the Inquisitor's services are past. There is the matter of Corypheus, certainly, but we will be able to make do, I believe. After all," she gestured to Cassandra, "we are among esteemed company."

She sat back, physically signalling her disengagement, ignoring the discomfort of putting herself any nearer to the thug behind her. Adaar was no longer looking at her, she saw; she was instead focused on the mercenary by the hearth, the woman the barkeep was glaring at. She avoided Adaar's eyes. Her hands had curled into fists.

The barkeep knew this woman, Josephine realized. And so did Adaar.

"That's too bad," Koster said, drawing her attention back to him. "Too bad for you, I mean."

Josephine tilted her head to the side, as if vaguely curious. "Oh? How so?"

He put the dagger down on the table and leaned forward. "You can't imagine I'll let you leave, Ambassador, if you don't give me what I want. The next person to sit in that chair might be more interested in playing ball if we have half your war table in our cellars."

Josephine allowed a beat of silence, and then she brought a hand to her mouth to cover an amused laugh.

"By all means, Messere," she said, twisting the honorific into a taunt. "Show us to our accommodations. We will see who decides to negotiate with you next. For your sake, I do hope Nightingale does not take an interest."

Finally, he betrayed a twitch of unease. She'd guessed correctly; his mercenaries had recognized her, and he had recognized Cassandra. Not a small leap to imagine he'd heard of Leliana—and some of her less savory methods of doing business.

Sometimes it was good to have questionable friends.

"Perhaps it's time for us to move on, then," Koster said, staring Josephine down. "We'll take what we need from these fine people and make ourselves scarce." He had an ugly, unkind grin. "Wouldn't do to leave anyone to tattle on us, though, would it?"

"You said no one would get hurt!" a new, shaking voice broke in.

Josephine judged it acceptable to look toward the woman. She'd taken a step forward from the hearth; the other mercenary, a few feet away from her, put his hand on the pommel of his sword, frowning.

"Vilya," Adaar said, her voice low, "don't—"

"I told you to shut up," Koster snapped over his shoulder. He pointed at Vilya. "And you—"

The situation was rapidly escalating out of her control, but Josephine had bought enough time. Adaar's gaze swept the room, cataloguing and assessing, muscles tensed on the verge of movement. She was ready.

Josephine caught Cassandra's eye and gave the tiniest of nods, one that Koster, distracted by a room of unraveling threads, wouldn't notice. Cassandra's sword made a magnificent, ominous sound as she pulled it from the sheath. All eyes went to her.

In that moment, Adaar was meant to act. Josephine was meant to dive for cover. 

But Josephine wanted more than to cower in a corner while others took care of this creature. He had made it necessary to say untrue things, words that had left such a sour taste in her mouth. She would play a small part more in his demise.

She snatched up Adaar's daggers.

"Catch!" she called, and threw the blades to Adaar.

Adaar was already moving. She had one foot planted on the floor beneath her; her hands, trailing snapped rope, reached up to pluck the clumsily-thrown daggers from midair. Her rise was graceful, effortless, and as she straightened to a height taller than either mercenary flanking her, she left a dagger in each of their chests. She never took her eyes from Josephine.

"Duck," she replied.

The room erupted. Josephine scrambled under the negotiation table. She heard the whistle of a near miss above her; the mercenary standing guard over her had acted, but too late. Only a second later, his body thudded to the ground behind her. Cassandra's sword had found an opening.

Three down, she thought, pulling her knees tight to her chest, so as to present the smallest possible target.

From her vantage point, she couldn't see much. She saw Koster's boots and Adaar's bare feet, moving, in and out, back and forth; she heard the snarls of his rage and Adaar's eerie silence. When she dared glance over to her right, she saw Cassandra's greaves, the occasional flash as the firelight reflected off her sword—and her opponent's. She kept him crowded near the hearth, blocking his path to his commander.

Vilya's was the only face Josephine could see. She'd backed into the far corner, huddled on the ground behind the tables and chairs.

Josephine returned her attention to the fight in front of her. She stared at the light way Adaar's feet moved across the dirty floorboards. Her footing was so sure, so graceful. Koster lunged and hacked, and Adaar, without the benefit of armor or boots, moved fluidly out of his way—and yet, at the same time, closer. Trying to get inside the reach of his weapon. There was a yelp—she'd made contact—and then an angry bellow; her points made, Adaar slipped out of reach.

But Koster was not ready to give up. Josephine had hoped that the blood now dotting the floor would slow him down; instead, he stopped swinging so wildly, waited, focused. She heard him give a mean, breathless laugh, and her blood ran cold.

"I've heard tales of your skill," he said. "Glad you measured up to the challenge. But someone got the better of you once. Maybe I'll take the other horn, as a trophy."

Adaar didn't rise to the bait. Josephine had seen her temper, secret, boiling. But she directed it as she liked; it did not direct her.

Josephine could hear the smile in her voice. "I've been saying for years that I'm just not symmetrical anymore."

The battle rejoined. Their feet moved faster now, the movements so quick they left Josephine breathless. She clenched her fists and watched, not daring to blink.

Now and then, she saw the length of Koster's sword, just barely sweeping into view. It was after one such upswing that she heard a dull, sickening thud.

Adaar had frozen in place, her stance unbalanced, wobbling. Koster gave another nasty laugh. Josephine tossed a panicked look toward Cassandra, but she was still occupied with the other mercenary.

She cast around frantically for a weapon, found her guard's fallen sword, and snatched it up. Then she crawled toward the fight, the scene coming into view as she peered out from beneath the table.

Koster's sword was stuck in Adaar's horn. Josephine's heart seized, but Adaar was smirking, and after a second's panic, Josephine understood why: the sword was truly stuck, about a third of the blade's width trapped in the horn. Koster pulled and pulled at it, the look on his face transforming from triumph to concern, and Adaar only turned her head in a way that made pulling it free harder.

"Sorry, is the angle bad?" Adaar asked, all innocence.

The next time he pulled, she pulled too, away from his sword. The sudden release of the blade threw him off-balance; he caught himself on the backfoot, but not fast enough. Adaar had used the moment to move in, lightning-quick, daggers extended. She crashed into him, toppling them both to the floor.

For a long, terrifying moment, they both lay still. Josephine could not move, could not breathe— 

Then Adaar, with a hard exhale, rolled off Koster's body. The hilts of her two daggers stuck up from his torso. One had left his breastplate askew, no longer protecting his ribs; Adaar must have cut the leather fasteners that held front to back, at his sides, on an earlier pass.

The other, she'd left in his neck. Blood was still pumping from that wound, though sluggishly. Josephine's stomach turned, but she ignored it. She scrambled out from beneath the table, around Koster's body, and to Adaar, who still lay on her back, breathing heavily, mouth twisted in a grimace of pain.

Closer now, without a sword in the way, Josephine saw why. Koster's sword had clipped the pointed tip of Adaar's ear in its doomed arc toward her horn; the wound was still bleeding.

"I don't think he understood symmetry," Adaar said, fumbling to feel at her ear. She smiled at Josephine. "Were you going to duel him?"

Josephine stared at her, uncomprehending, then remembered the sword in her hand; with a noise of disgust, she tossed it away with a clatter. She caught Adaar's hand instead, pulling it away from the wound.

Footsteps approached from behind, and Josephine tensed, but then Cassandra asked, "Are you well?"

"Fine," Adaar said. "Thanks for the rescue."

Cassandra snorted. "What will we do with this one?"

Josephine turned. Cassandra held Vilya by the shoulder. The woman stared at the ground. The other mercenary lay dead on the floor beside the hearth.

"Herah," a reedy voice said—the barkeep, shuffling toward them with the aid of a walking stick. "I mean, Your Worship—"

"Don't start with the holiness stuff, Hammond." Adaar sat up with a grunt, holding fast to Josephine's hand. "Please."

"Well." Hammond cleared his throat. "You're not going to hurt her, are you? She's been awfully stupid, but...she didn't fight."

Adaar looked at Vilya and sighed. "I don't want to. But I do want to know what's going on. What happened, Vilya?"

For a moment, Josephine was sure that Vilya would keep quiet—but then she spoke, low and fast, not looking up from the ground. "Trade's been bad. Crops didn't do well this year. Everybody says the war's coming this way, if we don't starve to death first, and when Koster came along, he said he could help us. Get the Inquisition to protect us."

"You knew he was going to lure me here," Adaar said.

"He made it sound so easy! Made it sound like you'd just pay up and be on your way. He said you wouldn't miss it. And the Inquisition wouldn't leave us vulnerable again, after that." Her voice was thick with tears. Josephine felt a pang of sympathy. Here were their desperate folk, driven to desperate things.

"Who else?" Adaar asked.

"Just Cossus and Herbert. I swear."

"They came in one night with those Carvers," Hammond said, "leading the way. No one in town's spoken to them since. They've been sleeping here." He shot a look at Vilya. "Not by my choice."

Adaar rubbed her unbloodied hand over her forehead. "Well, Vilya," she said, "you—and Cossus and Herbert, assuming they were smart enough to surrender—have two options, the way I see it. You can beg your families' forgiveness, work off your guilt here. Or, if you really want the protection of the Inquisition, you can work for it."

Vilya finally looked up. She swiped at her eyes with a fist. "Can we...can we think about it?"

"Think fast. I'm not staying long." Adaar nodded to Cassandra. "See if Bull and Dorian need help. And keep an eye on her and her friends until someone else can."

"Come," Cassandra said to Vilya, pushing at her shoulder.

"Herah," Vilya said, still tearful. Now that she'd looked up, her eyes were fixed on the blood streaking down Adaar's cheek, down her neck. "I'm—"

Adaar waved her off. "Don't say it til you mean it."

Cassandra prodded Vilya along to the door. When it opened, noise poured in: Bull in the midst of a lecture on company ethics; fire crackling beneath the occasional yelp. The door swung shut again, muffling the sound.

Adaar let out another deep, bone-weary sigh. "Sorry about the mess, Hammond."

The barkeep scoffed. "We'll set Vilya and her friends to scrubbing. The blood'll be out in no time, or we'll have them laying a new floor. I'll get you a rag for that bleeding."

"My bag—"

"They took it downstairs. I'll fetch that, too."

Hammond shuffled off behind the bar. Josephine waited until his footsteps had faded, and then she asked, quietly, "Are you all right?"

"Could have been better," Adaar said. "Could have been worse."

"That does not answer my question."

Adaar met her gaze. "I don't think I can leave this place unguarded. There are other Kosters out there." She shook her head. "And other Vilyas. I'm sorry. I know we're stretched thin."

Josephine brought her other hand to cover Adaar's and squeezed. "We will make do."

Adaar's lips quirked up on one side in a tiny, crooked smile. "You know, when you say that, no matter how impossible the task seems, I believe you. Especially after that display." Her eyes danced. "It's a pleasure to watch you work."

"Oh, that man was insufferable," Josephine said darkly. "I could have carried on for another quarter-hour and still found more ego to chip away at!"

Adaar laughed. The sound, bright and joyful, was infectious; Josephine found herself laughing, too, on the verge of hysteria, all her relief pouring out in a flood.

"That business with the little piece of paper," Adaar choked out, between gasps, "can you believe…"

"You didn't see his face," Josephine said, wiping at her eyes. "He was so sure—"

"You showed him."

"No, my dear, I think you showed him, in the end."

Adaar pulled her hand free from Josephine's grasp, but only to reach out, to sweep Josephine fully against her as their laughter died down to chuckles and hiccups. Josephine wound her arms around Adaar in return, pressing close to her welcome, living warmth, savoring it.

"You shouldn't have grabbed the daggers," Adaar admonished. 

"You shouldn't have gotten caught!"

Adaar let out another chuckle. The sound rumbled pleasantly beneath Josephine's cheek. "Fine. We're even."

Adaar pulled back, just enough to look down at her. She tucked an errant strand of hair behind Josephine's ear.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Josephine's heart leapt. Gone were her old doubts; she recognized the intent in that look, the affection, and leaned a little closer— 

"We can put you all up in some of the rooms, Herah," Hammond said, and they both jumped. He hoisted Adaar's pack up onto the bar counter and brandished a wet rag. "You'd better get that wound seen to."

"Right," Adaar said, and with a rueful smile at Josephine, she gently pulled away and got to her feet. She offered a hand to help Josephine up. "Getting blood everywhere."

"You ought to stay," Hammond continued. "For a few days, at least. People'll be happy to see you. You take your sweet time between visits."

"Yes, I was a little preoccupied with the giant hole in the sky for a while—"

"You been Inquisitor for ten years?" Hammond interrupted.

Adaar stared for a moment, then shook her head. "No, messere," she said, much more meekly.

"I thought not. Now, you get yourself cleaned up, and we'll have a proper homecoming." He made for the front door of the tavern. As the door swung shut, Josephine heard him barking names.

"You hear that old codger?" Adaar asked wonderingly. "I lose a piece of my ear, and he wants to have a party."

Josephine tried very hard not to burst out laughing again. She almost succeeded.

[writingismyhappytime]

Escaping Grace (Part 3)

Warnings: Angst, Language

The city is pretty crowded tonight, and whoever made the decision to walk all the way to this restaurant is in the dog house with me tonight. It wasn't supposed to be too far away from the club, but whichever one of the guys made this decision has obviously never had to walk a long distance in heels --- to be fair, these are my favorite boots with just enough heel to make me a decent height, but they still hurt after a while.

I sigh, shoving my hands into my jacket pockets, glad I'd decided to wear one after all. I'd just barely thought to grab it last minute as we'd headed out the door, and Vale had sent me such a look --- well, I bet she's cold now in her sleeveless shirt!

Clarke keeps an easy pace with me, looking down at his phone as he goes. I'm fairly certain he has a girlfriend, or at least someone who likes to blow up his phone pretty frequently. He's a very private person, and he especially likes to keep everything from Vale, who in turn pries incessantly until she knows everything. It must just be a thing betweens siblings.

"Hey, Vale, right?" I hear CC ask a few paces ahead of us, and my eyes focus on the back of his head. He's walking with Vale, her long legs easily keeping pace with his.

"Yeah. It's really Valerie, but no one calls me that." She shrugs.

"Well, I go by CC, but it's Christian."

"You definitely look more like a CC." Vale glances up at him, cutting her eyes beneath her fake lashes; how she manages to always get them to stay on is beyond me, I've tried and mine always fall off or I feel like I'm trying to take flight with them.

Vale hugs herself as we continue down the street, rubbing her bare arms against the cold. "How long are we going to keep walking? I thought this place wasn't too far."

"It's just a few more streets down. We usually walk it from the studio to there, the food is totally worth it." CC replies, and I stare as he suddenly shrugs out of his black jacket, draping it around her shoulders. "Here, I know it's getting cold."

Did he for real ---?

Vale's fingers curl around the jacket, and she gives him an appreciative look. "Oh, thank you! I was just wishing that I'd brought my own."

She planned this, didn't she? I told her to bring a jacket, but --- there's no way. I can't believe he gave her his jacket, that's such a gentlemanly thing to do and I just can't believe I witnessed it with my own eyes.

"Why don't either one of you ever offer me your jacket?" I grumble at Clarke and Nate where we walk, both of them sticking close to me. "I get cold sometimes too."

"We don't control the weather," Clarke retorts, shooting me a look. I roll my eyes at him, pushing my hands deeper into my pockets. CC and Vale are talking a few feet in front of us, but otherwise our bands are staying separate as we walk.

I'm kind of... bummed, actually, that Andy is so quiet tonight. I thought, since he wanted to meet us, that he would be nice, even if he was faking it. Chat us up, have casual conversation, etc., but he doesn't exactly seem to be in the best of moods. He just went right to business, as if he didn't already know what we were going to play to open for his band.

I sigh as we come to a stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change so we can keep going.

"So, where are you guys originally from?" CC is asking Vale, standing rather close to her.

"Small town down south," she replies, checking her phone. "Even if I told you the name, you wouldn't know where it was."

"Doesn't sound so bad," he says as we start to cross. His hand slips to her lower back, guiding her forward, and I'm surprised Vale doesn't shirk away from him. She hates it when guys do that, she feels like she's being manipulated. "This is kinda cool, isn't it?" Nate murmurs after a few minutes, bumping me with his shoulder. He's smoking as we walk, so there's a haze around him that makes my nose curl. I hate the way the smoke smells, and he knows I don't like it, he just doesn't care.  "None of the other bands we've opened for have ever taken any interest in us."

"Well, maybe this means we're doing something right?" I offer, unsure really what this meeting was about. We could have just met at the show, or even right beforehand, if they wanted to get a feel for us. Obviously we're an up and comer, but our live performances have always been good --- Vale likes to put on a show, and all the women seem to like Clarke's stoic attitude and Nate's... very welcoming one.

"We're here!" Ashley announces proudly as we finally stop in front of a diner on the corner. I glance up at the red neon sign, the large windows displaying a fifties-looking diner with the red booths and the jukebox in the corner. There's even oldies music playing as we walk inside, being seated at a large table near the back so we can all fit.

Somehow I get seated between Andy and Ashley, with Vale and CC across from me, CC conveniently sandwiched between the siblings. I'm not sure if he's aware that Clarke is Vale's brother, but if he keeps trying to flirt with her I'm sure it's going to become fairly obvious.

I press my hands into my lap, glancing around. I'm sure we look a strange group, dressed in various shades of black, my hair the most colorful part of all of us. I know it's kind of lame, the streaks of red and blue layered beneath the top half of my blonde hair, but I thought it was so cool; I was never allowed to dye my hair when I lived at home, so I took full advantage of the rainbow of colors once I was free.

Now at least I can afford to have it professionally done so it looks nice.

"They have some great food here," Ashley tells as as he twirls a laminated meu on the table. "When we first came here, Andy ordered the whole menu to go."

Andy glances up from his phone where he'd been furiously typing, shrugging his shoulders. He's been pretty focused on it the entire night, instead of the company he keeps; I'm honestly a little annoyed.  "What can I say? The food is good."

I try not to watch his fingers move across the screen, which he was mostly holding under the table for privacy, I guess. I keep my focus on where Vale sits across from me, her chin propped on her hand as she listens to something Clarke says. Nate is on his other side, chatting up the other members of the band. He's our drummer, and yet he's more focused on the guitarists and their techniques; what, does he want to trade with Clarke to Vale now?

I thought he liked doing the bang bang thing. I gingerly lift up the menu, but I already know what I'm going to order. I order the same thing everywhere I go, it's a safety thing, plus I really like chicken tenders. It doesn't look like there's a ton of variety either, just what you'd expect from diner food. I wonder if the milkshakes are good.

"Hi, I'm your waitress Camilla. What would you guys like to drink?" A waitress pops up at the end of the table with a tired smile, and we all rattle off our drink orders. She has no trouble scratching it on her notepad, but she also doesn't have an accent and looks like she knows what she's doing. She just nods her head before turning on her heel. "I don't know why you're looking at the menu," Vale grumbles at me after a moment, eyeing me over the one she holds when she sees me looking; I notice her and CC's chairs are pretty close together, despite she's at the end of the table where I wish I was. I'm squished. "You already know what you're going to order."

"Don't food shame me, if they mess up chicken tenders, there's no hope for the rest of the food." I reply, leaning back in the chair. The table is big enough there's at least room for us not to be right on top of each other, so I'm not bumping elbows with either of the men I'm between but I still feel like we're too close. I have a thing about personal space. The chair however is a little uncomfortable, the cushion is worn and the metal cold. I can feel it pressing through my back even with my jacket. "So, are you guys excited for the show?" Ashley offers up some conversation when it starts to lull, there's only so much to talk about. "It's going to be a nice sized venue." He leans back in his chair casually, and I notice his arm slips along the back of mine. Is he trying to be smooth or he just needs somewhere to put his arm? I mean, he's cute, and talented as hell and I like his outfit choices, but I've also heard he's quite the ladies man, and I don't date.

He'd have a better chance of hooking up with Nate.

"Oh, we've played there before. I love the Stoles Arena, the dressing rooms are the cleanest." Vale says, absently twirling the ends of her dark hair. "I almost thought Nate was going to get us banned though. He managed to smooch with the stage managers girlfriend before the show."

I stare at her over my menu, trying with my eyes to convey how much she did not need to reveal that we could be troublesome; well, that Nate could be, anyway. He's usually the one that's causing chaos. He doesn't mean too, he just can't seem to help himself. Maybe it's the whole acting before thinking thing... also could be the fact he doesn't have much to think with either.

"What!? You mean little Sarah with an H?" Ashley looks impressed, tapping his fingers on the table, his attention suddenly riveted on our drummer. I shift in my chair again and his arm suddenly leaves to prop along the table.

Nate grins from a few seats down, looking smug. "Yep. She has a thing for blondes," he gestures at his very dyed hair with dark roots.  "But to be fair she conned me into jello shots for the before party and let me tell you, that girl can handle her alcohol."

"Craig was so mad," Vale chuckles, steepling her fingers in front of her. She's glancing at the long table we're all sharing, not at all phased that all eyes are on her. Sometimes I really wish she was the singer, so we could switch and I could be out of the limelight. Ironic, isn't it? I want to be famous but also be invisible at the same time; I really should have chose a different profession.  "He gets us a gig there and Nate almost goes and blows it within a few hours."

"Craig?"

"Our manager."

"Ah okay."

I tap my nails against my thighs, growing impatient. I wish the waitress would come back with the drinks so I could at least have something to do while everyone else forces casual conversation. Do we seem settled enough? Out of control? What kind of impression are they hoping to get off of us tonight?

Are we failing? Passing? What's the verdict?

Finally the waitress appears, but she has a waiter with her, helping her carry all of our drinks. I notice he keeps staring at us, his eyes flicking back and forth between all of our faces. His eyebrow piercings glints beneath the buzzing lights above, and the tattoos peeking out from under his shirt sleeve gives me the hint he might be someone who listens to our genre of music.

He helps pass the drinks around, lets the waitress take all of our orders while hovering obviously in the background before rather meekly asking if he could have an autograph. "I'm so sorry to bother you, I know you're trying to eat, but I could I please get an autograph from you guys?" He asks nervously, clutching a napkin in his hand.

"Really, Ryan? We bring pretty girls here and you ask for their autograph?" Ashley says, but his tone lets us know he's teasing, so they must know the waiter fairly well. The waiter has the decency to look embarassed, but Vale takes charge, putting her hand out.

"Sure. One of these days you can sell this on eBay and make a ton of money," she says as she scribbles her signature on it, the V of her name a lot larger than the rest. "Tell the world you met Escape from Grace when they were ordering chicken tenders."

I try not to smile at the comment, adding a hasty scribble of my name before sliding the napkin down the table towards him. He snatches it quickly, beaming at all of us before making a beeline for the front of the diner where the other waitress is standing.

"He doesn't meet many famous people, forgive his manners." CC apologizes for him, bumping Vale with his shoulder lightly. "We come here enough he's used to us, but when you guys come back, expect the same reaction."

"Oh, so we're coming back here?" Vale looks at him, her lips curving.

"Oh, I, uh, I just meant if you come back here. I mean, the food is great," CC shifts suddenly, Vale is making him nervous. It's the way she looks at people, so directly, it makes them squirm. I aspire to have that level of confidence one day.

I brush my hair behind my ears, reaching for my soda and sliding it towards me. The others had all finished their drinks off before we'd left the club, so some greasy food would do them wonders.

"So what are you guys planning for your first show?" Clarke asks, drawing the attention back to business. He glances around, always the one to get to the point. "Are you going for a big performance initally or saving it until the last show?"

"We haven't decided," Andy replies, clicking his phone screen black and slipping it into his pocket, apparently done with the conversation that's been taking up his attention all night. "We still have a little time to decide what we're going to do, it's one of the reasons we wanted to meet with you guys. We want to keep the crowd entertained."

Entertained? So long as he's talking, who cares about the rest?

What is it with me and guys with voices like him? I gaze at him as he speaks, watching the light bounce off his black lip ring, his dark hair falling into his eyes slightly. He's tall, and incredibly warm where he sits beside me. I can smell just a hint of his cologne, he doesn't shower in it like Nate does, and it suits him well enough. He's covered in tattoos, from his neck down, and especially on his arms. "You guys have been together for a year or two, right?"

Huh?

I blink, realizing I'd zoned out and lost some of the conversation. Andy was looking at me expectantly, and I hastily straightened in my chair, feeling my face flush.

"What? Oh, yeah. Two years coming up. We had our big debut last year at Stoles, actually."

"Cool. Bandmates are hard to find that stick around. You all seem to get along." He comments, and I notice Ashley glances at him.

"We've always been together," I reply, shifting so my butt doesn't go numb. I hope it doesn't take too long for our food, I'm genuinely starting to get hungry and something is smelling amazing. Sure, initially the place had smelled like cheap coffee and french fries, but there's also something comforting and familiar about it too. "I couldn't imagine anyone else being with us. It would be too crowded."

I leave it at that, deciding that I was not going to rattle on tonight and find a way to embarrass myself. I'm going to play it cool, keep my comments fairly short but still friendly enough. I seem to be doing okay, being social and all that, although it's mostly Ashley who tries to keep conversation with me. I kind of didn't like his arm along the back of my chair, mainly because I can't lean back properly, but I don't want to say anything about it, either.

Vale would have literally shoved it off and not cared about his reaction, but her attention has been focused on CC solely. They seem to have hit it off pretty well, he's even slightly leaning in her direction as they talk.

The waiter suddenly reappers, carrying all of our food on platters. I perk up as my chicken tenders slide in front of me, and a full ketchup bottle with it! How nice! I hate having to hit the bottom of the glass to get any out, or if the water just runs out all gross.

I dip one of my fries through the ketchup, watching CC use so much mustard on his burger I could smell it from across the table. I almost cringe as he bites into the burger almost oozing the yellow slime, and I realize I'm outright staring at him in horror when Ashley nudges my elbow with his.

"CC puts mustard on everything, you get used to the sight," he tells me, pretending he's whispering but loud enough I know his friend hears him. "He keeps an array of mustard flavors on the tour bus. Takes up way too much room in the fridge."

"Hey, different flavors make the food," CC defends himself, pointing with a napkin as he wipes at his stained fingers. "And you're the one who stocks the fridge full of rabbit food all the time. Can't get anything else in there for all your lettuce!"

"Well one of us has to be healthy when we eat!"

I relax a little more as the night goes on, and Andy starts talking a little more, that black cloud above his head starting to lift. He seems to get over whatever it is bothering him, him and Clarke getting into a detailed conversation about the technicalities of performing on stage. I'm just glad that we haven't embarrassed ourselves just yet.

My back is starting to ache from sitting so straight in this chair, though, and the boys on either side of me are starting to feel like individual furnaces. I don't suppose it would be very polite of me to start fanning myself with the menu.

"Hey," I grab a spoon, thoughtlessly whacking Nate's hand as he tries to reach for one of my fries. He's always such a jerk, ordering something cheap and trying to pick out of someone else's plate if he thinks they're not looking; or honestly if he just wants something he goes for it. "Hands off."

He gives me a wounded expression, rubbing his fingers. "You're not even going to eat it all, Leah!"

"If you wanted fries, order them. And I might." I defend myself. I mean, typically I just end up taking my food home with me and eating the rest within fifteen minutes of being there, but that's beside the point. Fries are like my favorite food, and I'm not sharing. Nate eyes me warily, but I threaten him again with the spoon, so he decides to keep his hands to himself. Good enough for him to not always get what he wants.

We all sit and chat for a while, listening to oldies tunes and enjoying the food which actually is pretty good. Everyone starts passing around show stories, and Andy tells us how he managed to break three ribs performing at one of his earliest shows.

"Oh, I remember that. We were at that show," I say thoughtlessly, having a vague recollection of cringing when he'd started to fall.

"You were?" he looks surprised.

"Yeah. It was when we decided to become a band, it was one of the first concerts we went too." I motioned at the table in general. "It was kind of like a celebratory type thing."

"Yeah, the whole climbing on the wall and jumping down thing, really should have given that more thought," Vale adds, stirring her straw in her drink. "It was a good show though, despite the fact you tried to end it early."

"Well, I like to make my shows memorable." Andy replies, his arm brushing mine as he leans back.

"That you did." My guitarist agrees. "Leah is afraid of heights, so at least I don't have to worry about her getting some big brain idea to climb something. Plus she's clumsy, and I don't think it looks very cool to roll her out on stage in bubblewrap."

Yes, thank you, Vale, let's tell the cute guy about my irrational fear of heights and that I'm unable to stand up without falling.

"I would end up popping all the bubbles during the song, so it might be distracting." I say lightly, earning a grin out of her. My eyes flick to the clock on the wall behind her, noticing that it was getting late. We have an early morning in the studio tomorrow, and staying out all night isn't going to help me focus on recording.

Besides, socializing so long is starting to wear on me, and I can only grit my teeth so much more before I need to see a dentist. I'm normally getting ready for bed at this point anyway, I'm old and like to get plenty of sleep. Plus, well, the medication I take makes me sleepy and I don't like to fight it.

I make an off comment about heading off, and Nate immediately starts whining that it's not late at all, the night is still young and there's so much to do.

"I said that I was going to head off, not that you have too."

"Actually, I should get going too." Andy says, looking at something on his phone. "We have to finish some stuff up in the studio before tour, we still have to get that organized."

"Seriously, I thought they said we could finish that on Monday." Ashley complains, looking annoyed.

"We're supposed to premier it for the show," Andy reminds him, shrugging. "So we need to get some practice in."

Everyone starts shuffling to their feet, and the waiter miraculously appears before us, handing us all our separate bills. Nate, of course, isn't able to pay for his, and so I sigh as I end up swiping my card for both of us like usual. Vale tells me I shouldn't buy his way all the time, but I feel bad if I don't, he gives me those puppy dog eyes.

Vale and CC step outside with some of the others, and I notice that her hand is on his arm as they talk and laugh. I'm a little irritated when Nate and Clarke suddenly head off down the street with Jinxx and Jake without even a word, like where are they even going this time of night? Sure, the city is still awake, but it's late!

Again, we have an early morning!

The waiter hands me a receipt, his fingers lingering against the white paper for a moment. "Hey, um, Miss Kabinov, would it be okay if I got a picture with you?"

"With me?" I blinkat him in surprise, hesitating. Someone wants a photo with me?

"If you don't mind."

"I mean, yeah, that's fine." I fold up the receipt, slipping it into the tiny backpocket of my jeans that are basically useless; why do jeans never have decent pockets? We step out of the way so Andy can pay for his meal, and I quickly let the waiter take a photo with me so he can prove to his friends he met the singer from Escape from Grace.

I'm sure I don't look very cool, my makeup is barely done and I'm in civilian clothing, as Craig calls it when we're not dressed in stage attire. The waiter thanks me profusely before hurrying behind the counter, and I turn, expecting to head out the glass doors where my friends are waiting.

Oh.

I hesitate, staring at the empty street as I suddenly realize everyone has disappeared. Did I just get ditched by my entire band for another band?